After our conversation, Zathrian summoned Lanaya to his aravel to inform her of his intentions, and of her imminent promotion to keeper, while I filled the others in on the situation.
Sten grumbled his objection to the plan as a whole, reminding me that he thought the entire venture into the Brecilian was a waste of time because "the elves are weak" and he "failed to see how an undisciplined band of Halla herders would serve as anything but a meal for the Archdemon", while Morrigan, eyes hungry for knowledge and power, quizzed me on the finer details of spirit-binding and life-force tethering, huffing in frustration when I couldn't answer a single one of her questions.
A couple of the hunters who had led us to Zathrian were lingering nearby, watching us suspiciously, and Zevran, Alistair and Grayson approached them to ask about the dangers we should expect to encounter in the deeper parts of the forest. Upon hearing the words "giant spiders" and "giant tree wraiths", Wynne swiftly left to speak with the clan's herbalist to replenish her stock of healing potions.
Leliana wandered further into the camp, calling out friendly greetings to the Dalish as she went. I leaned against Zathrian's aravel, wincing as a painful reminder of my earlier fall shot through my bruised ribs.
"It must feel quite at home here." Shale's gravelly voice made me jump. Despite its size, it had an uncanny, statuesque ability to stand so still and silent that I had a habit of forgetting it was there until it spoke.
"I'm not an elf, Shale." I said, wearily.
"Is it certain?" The golem asked, peering down at me. "If it is not an elf, why is it so short and puny? Is it some manner of strange, frail dwarf?"
"I'm not that short." I protested, moodily. One of the elves walked past us as I said this, noticeably taller than me, and Shale made a show of looking at her and then tilting its entire torso forward to look back down at me. I rolled my eyes. "Alright, you've made your point."
"How does it expect to kill an Archdemon with arms like little twigs?" Shale asked, doubtfully.
"Well, I thought I might try feeding a golem to it and hope that it chokes to death." I glowered, crossing my little twig arms and sinking further against the aravel, involuntarily wincing again when my ribs throbbed, painfully.
"The whiny blonde one said the same thing." Shale said, with a bored kind of curiosity, looking over at Alistair and Grayson. I followed its gaze and saw that they had finished speaking with the hunters and were engaged in conversation with one another, throwing frequent glances in my direction.
"No prizes for guessing who they're bitching about." I muttered, under my breath. "You know, Shale, I'm starting to feel quite under-appreciated in this party. I'm too short, but too big for my boots. I'm too weak, but too dangerous to be left unsupervised. I'm too reckless, but when I try to be careful I get the third degree. Half of them are still angry with me for dying, and Sten's angry with me for living. I don't tell them about the future, and it's my fault when it happens. I do tell them about the future, and it's still my fault. Like I asked for any of this."
Shale was still watching the Wardens, and it acted like it hadn't been listening to a word I said. I looked over at them again to see that they were making their way over to us.
I sighed, looking away as I awaited their approach.
"I'm just waiting for Zathrian." I said, when they were within earshot, hoping to head off another of Grayson's lectures by wresting control of the conversation first before he had the chance. "Did the hunters tell you anything useful?"
"Sure." Grayson said, leaning beside me. "A few of them have agreed to accompany us to the ruins, to protect Zathrian until he can do what he needs to do to end the curse."
I shifted, uncomfortably, biting my lip.
"Are we sure that's a good idea?" I asked.
"Why wouldn't it be?"
"Well…the extra bows would be a nice bonus if we run into trouble on the way, but I don't exactly trust them to keep their heads when the werewolves show up." I frowned, thinking. "Zathrian can probably keep them in line. I dunno. Just an unknown variable I hadn't factored into the equation, that's all."
"We'll make sure they're all aware of the stakes." He assured me. "Their people's lives depend on our success. I don't think they're likely to do anything to jeopardise that."
I nodded, frowning in thought. The pain in my side grew harder to ignore, and I absent-mindedly rubbed a hand over the tender area, hissing quietly at the contact.
"You're hurt." Alistair said, taking a step toward me. I glanced up, momentarily hesitating before acknowledging him, acutely aware that this was the first time he had attempted to speak to me directly since Redcliffe.
"I'm fine. Just bruised from being thrown into your plate, I think."
"Oh. I'm sorry." He said, looking crestfallen. I smirked, fondly, before I could catch myself and I quickly tried to rearrange my expression into one of cool indifference.
"You're not the one who threw me, Alistair." I said, gently. The corners of his mouth quirked upwards when I said his name, and I felt my own lips tug into a small smile in response, despite my best efforts.
"Do you need healing before we head out?" Grayson asked, in a business-like tone. I shook my head.
"Nah, I'll be fine." I said, dismissively. I twisted at the waist before stretching my arms above my head and bending from side-to-side to test my range of motion, ignoring my body's protests at the movement, and nodded. "It smarts, but I can move just fine."
"Do you enjoy pain?" Grayson asked, casually.
"Are you hitting on me, Cousland?" I grinned up at him.
"You wish, DuVal." He rolled his eyes. "I'm just saying, there's no need to grin and bear it when we've got packs full of elfroot and two mages at our disposal."
"At your disposal, indeed." Morrigan sauntered over to us, shooting Grayson an unimpressed look.
"At our service?" Grayson tried, cringing under her glare.
"At your throat in a minute if you're not careful, Cousland." I grinned.
"I thought Alistair was the only Grey Warden who could not count." Morrigan drawled, her eyes glinting in amusement.
"Hey! I'll have you know I'm very well-educated, thank you very much." Alistair protested, before apparently realising the counting error Morrigan was hinting at, and adding. "Which is why I know we have three mages, not two."
It took me a moment to realise he was talking about me and I scoffed.
"I'm not a mage." I said, dismissively.
"Right." Alistair said, slowly, apparently emboldened enough by the three minutes we had gone without fighting to break out the sarcasm. "What would you call yourself, then?"
"Quirky." I said, firmly.
"Of course." He agreed, facetiously. "That well-known quirk of setting things on fire with your mind. I'm sure there's another name for that…"
"You know what I mean." I said, looking between the three of them, whose bemused expressions said they apparently did not know what I meant. "Morrigan, you tried to teach me basic force magic a few nights ago and I had to lie down for an hour after barely managing to lift one tiny rock a foot off the ground."
"Yes, well, I did not imply you were a good mage." She said, pointedly.
"I prefer to think of myself as a rogue with benefits." I said, chewing my lip, thoughtfully. "Potential benefits, anyway, once I get the hang of things. Right now, I'm more like a rogue with side-effects."
"Have you learned anything more about why your magic was dormant until after…?" Alistair trailed off, clearing his throat, gruffly.
"No." I said, quietly. "Wynne thinks that Irving might know more, if anyone does. She's going to write to him the next time we're passing through Redcliffe, although who knows when…" I trailed off, as a cold realisation hit me and I swore under my breath. "I forgot to write to Cullen." I groaned, exchanging a pained look with Grayson.
"Oh." Alistair breathed, raising his eyebrows in surprise. "I…didn't realise you were still writing to him."
He was trying far too hard to sound casual, but he couldn't hide the wounded look in his eyes. I oscillated between regret and annoyance as I met his gaze.
"Grayson wrote to him after Haven. To let him know that I…well, you know."
He nodded, offering me an apologetic grimace. I lowered my eyes, as a thought occurred to me.
"Maybe it's best if I just leave it at that." I sighed. "He's already in Kirkwall a year ahead of schedule because of me. It might be better to just let him forget he ever met me and hope his destiny catches up to him, despite my meddling. I tried to write to him, but I was…interrupted. Maybe that was the universe's way of forcing my hand off the wheel. To let it take its own course."
Before Alistair could respond, Zathrian and Lanaya emerged from his aravel. I wasn't sure how truthful he had been with her about his role in the creation of the curse, but the bittersweet combination of hope and sorrow on the young woman's face indicated that he had at least been honest about the means by which he meant to end it.
He saw us waiting for him and acknowledged me, with a sober nod.
"Grey Wardens. This is Lanaya. She is my first, and will assume my role as keeper of this clan upon our departure into the forest."
"Well met." Alistair smiled, pleasantly, at the young woman, and it was all I could do to tear my eyes away from his face. He looked so handsome when he smiled.
"We're ready to head out when you are." I said, shaking myself, trying to rid my ruined brain of all Alistair-related content. The man had spoken a couple of sentences to me and it was like my heart had forgotten who had broken it.
"I understand your urgency, Warden, but I must prepare Lanaya and the rest of my clan before I can accompany you."
"How long do you need?" Grayson asked, and we exchanged wary looks.
"Allow me the day." Zathrian said, miserably. "The ruins are half-a-day's walk from here. If we were to leave now, we would not reach them before nightfall. It would be best if we set off at first light."
"Very well." Grayson said. "We will be ready."
"You are welcome to stay here for the night. We have some empty aravels to spare…" He trailed off, with a mournful sigh. "Too many. You were right, Warden." He looked down at me, sadly. "I have let this go on for far too long."
"It's never too late to do the right thing." I said, with a sympathetic grimace. I didn't really believe it, and I could tell from his face that neither did he.
"Perhaps. Please, excuse me. I must gather the clan elders and…Lanaya, will you make arrangements for our guests?"
The young woman nodded, sadly, and Zathrian departed with a final, curt smile.
"Please, make yourselves comfortable." Lanaya said, with a friendly smile. She beckoned to someone behind me, and I turned to see Mithra approach us. "Mithra, the Grey Wardens and their companions are our guests for the night. Please inform the others that they will be staying with us, and they are to be given whatever food, water and supplies that they need. Ready the empty aravels for their stay."
"Empty?" Mithra hissed, looking outraged. "Those aravels belong to our kin. Are we so quick to forget their memory? To allow shemlen to sleep in their places?"
"Without their aid, there will be many more empty aravels, Mithra." Lanaya said, her gentle, friendly disposition giving way to a calm, authoritative one.
Mithra looked from Lanaya to me, her outrage morphing into thin-lipped disapproval, but she nodded to the other woman before marching off to do as she was bid.
Lanaya flashed an apologetic look to Alistair.
"The others will be wary of you. They are not quick to trust shemlen."
"Perhaps understandably." Alistair replied, diplomatically. "Yours is certainly the friendliest face we've come across so far."
"I was not born among the Dalish, so my perspective towards the outside world and those who dwell in it is a little different from the others in the clan." She said, looking up at him through her eyelashes.
"You do seem different." Alistair smiled.
She blushed. He noticed, and blushed in response. I blinked.
"Oh, I'm nobody special." She said, smiling sweetly. "Although, I do admit, I am curious about the outside world. Do you mind if I ask you a question or two?"
"Well, that was one question." Alistair said, charmingly. "But you can have as many as you'd like."
She giggled, and he smiled, warmly at her.
He was flirting. With someone who wasn't me. And she was flirting back. I felt like I might be sick.
"What the-?" I looked up at Grayson's yelp of surprise to see that the grass at my feet was burning. Morrigan extinguished the flames with a gesture and I staggered back, looking down at the charred ground.
"Are you well, Warden?" Lanaya asked, with genuine concern in her voice.
"I…" I looked up from the black, smoking grass, trying to think how to explain away my involuntary outburst, and my eyes went immediately, automatically to Alistair. He looked confused and concerned, but not guilty. I realised that he hadn't even been aware that he had been flirting. For some reason, that made it worse.
"It is my fault." Morrigan said, unexpectedly, stepping towards me. "Lauren has only just started to develop her magical talents, and I am afraid I pushed her too far in our lesson last night. This sort of…random flare up can happen, in such cases."
I shot her a grateful look. God, I wished I could lie as easily as she did. It was too bad that Alistair had spent years training as a templar. He screwed his face up in confusion.
"What? Random flare ups?" He said, doubtfully. "I mean I've heard of young mages accidentally burning their homes down before they've been schooled, but that's usually because some strong emotion has made them lose control. I've never heard of…magical exertion aftershocks."
"I assure you, Alistair, the amount of things you've never heard of could fill several books." Morrigan replied, in a clipped voice.
"Right." He said, eyeing her suspiciously. "Just none of the many books on the subject they make you read during templar training. That seems unlikely. They were rather verbose when it concerned accidental magical arson, you know."
"Drop it, Alistair." Grayson said, with a warning tone. I looked at him and his eyes were trained on my face. He grimaced, sympathetically.
"I should go." I said, cutting off the next question I could already see forming on Alistair's face. "I should probably go and…be somewhere that is…else."
"Is something the matter?" He asked, looking from Grayson to me with a worried frown. I met his gaze, reluctantly, and tried to force a nonchalant smile, but it must have been weak because the concern in his eyes deepened.
"Nope, nothing." I said, with faux cheerfulness. "Just…what Morrigan said. I should probably go and find a nice, empty aravel to lie down in. You know. Recover from the…magic thing."
"Are you certain you're okay?" He asked, starting towards me just as I started backing away from them.
"You know me." I said, with a strained smile. "I'm always okay."
I turned and picked up speed as I walked away, swearing silently at myself for being so stupid. I had seen him smile at a pretty girl and almost self-immolated. I couldn't lose control like that, it was dangerous. Not to mention embarrassing. Morrigan's cover story was ingenious, but for the fact its intended audience consisted of a mage, a former-templar, and a man who knew me well enough to know exactly what had happened.
I hadn't been sure where I was walking to, I was just trying to put distance between me and the furious jealousy clawing strips out of my chest, but I looked up when I heard a commotion and saw three of the Dalish struggling to restrain Demon at the entrance of the camp. I was so grateful for the distraction that I could have kissed that big, dumb boy.
"I've got it." I called, jogging towards them.
"By the dread wolf! What is wrong with this animal?" One of them shouted as Demon bucked and whinnied, knocking another of the elves to the ground.
"He's…" I struggled to think of an appropriate adjective as I reached them, grabbing a handful of his reins and backing him up, away from the fallen elf before he could trample him to death. To my astonishment, my arrival actually seemed to calm the horse. I blinked up at him in surprise, searching his dark, intelligent eyes for an explanation. He nickered, low in his throat and I stroked his neck, soothingly. "He's spirited."
"We were trying to tether him with the others, but he can't stay here like that. He needs to burn off some of that energy first, or he'll end up hurting himself…or someone else…again." The elf who had fallen was rising shakily to his feet, brushing himself off. The other elves walked away, shooting wary glances back at the horse as if he might be planning a sneak attack. "He's a strong beast."
"Sorry." I said, as the elf rubbed the back of his neck and winced in pain. "I would say he doesn't know his own strength, but I would just be lying to you. He does it on purpose."
Demon growled.
"Did that horse just growl?"
"No." I lied. "Of course not. Come on, Demon, let's-"
"You named the growling horse Demon?"
"I didn't name him." I protested, before shrugging. "Honestly, though, it's kind of fitting."
"And your name?" The elf asked. His face was still pained, but he started to smile.
"Lauren." I said, returning his smile.
"Andaran atish'an, Lauren. I'm Tommen."
"Aneth ara, Tommen."
"You speak elvish?" He asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise.
"Don't look too impressed. You've just heard most of it, so…not really." I grinned. "But then, who does these days?"
"True enough…but don't let the others hear you say that." He said, glancing around conspiratorially. "We Dalish are a proud folk - not many would take kindly to a shem disparaging our limited ancestral vocabulary."
"I'm swiftly getting the impression you're not many." I said, raising an accusatory eyebrow. "I thought Lanaya was the only member of your clan who didn't hate outsiders on sight. Or was that whole "I'm not like other girls" bit just a ploy for attention?"
If he picked up on the sneering way I had said her name or the bitterness in my voice, he didn't show it.
"If anyone asks, I'll deny it. But I'm grateful that you're here. I was…one of the bows. When Mithra stopped you in the forest."
"Oh, that was you? Well, I suppose I should thank you for not shooting me."
"I wouldn't have shot you." He said, with a small smile. I raised my eyebrows, questioningly.
"No?"
"No, I was aiming for the Qunari. He seemed the biggest threat."
"I'm offended." I said, with mock outrage. "I'll have you know, I'm deceptively dangerous."
"I was going to say if I'd known better, I'd probably have aimed at him instead." He said, nodding towards Demon.
"That wouldn't have done any good, I'm afraid." I said, looking up at the horse and patting his neck, affectionately. "You'd only have made him angry."
"I heard what you said. To Mithra." Tommen said, looking at me with unabashed curiosity. "You really came here to help us deal with the werewolves?"
"Would you think less of me if I said it was for selfish reasons?" I offered. "Your clan pledged an oath to the Wardens to aid us with the blight. That'll be much easier to do if you're alive."
"Well, then, for my own selfish reasons, thank you." He said, with a friendly smile. "The last couple of months…all the attacks…it's been…trying. My sister, she…well."
"I'm sorry." I said, sadly. "I…can't imagine what that's like." I wasn't sure why I had lied.
"Thank you." He said, with a pained smile. He opened his mouth to say something more when Demon reared up, almost yanking my arm out of the socket. I tightened my grip on his reins and gave him a warning look, and he pawed the ground, impatiently.
"Sorry, Tommen. I think that's my cue. I'll take him for a ride, try to tire him out a bit." I said, hoisting myself into the saddle. "I don't suppose there's anywhere around here that I can really let him open up?"
"If you head west, you'll find a meadow. The ground is decent enough - not too soft, not too many rocks lying around. It's not far."
"Sounds promising. Say, there wouldn't happen to be a whole big pack of werewolves who hang out there, would there?"
"Not usually." He said, with a wry smile. "There's nowhere in the forest that I would say is safe, but the werewolves tend to remain closer to the heart of the woods when they're not attacking the camp. This close to the outskirts, the most dangerous thing there is likely to be your Demon."
"Thanks." I said, wheeling the danger around to face the camp's entrance. There was an excited bark from behind me, and Larry raced up to us, skidding to a stop and sneezing impatiently. I grinned down at him, affectionately. "Alright, let's go boys."
Demon lurched forward, breaking into a fast canter at the lightest bump of my heels, and I steered him west in search of the meadow. "I think we could both use a good gallop today, boy." I said to him, and he whinnied in response. Larry barked a reply and I couldn't help but laugh.
Who cares if Alistair was flirting with some bimbo? And by bimbo, I did mean the highly-educated, well-respected, nothing-but-nice, soon-to-be keeper of the Dalish clan who had sworn an oath to follow us into battle against the Archdemon. And she had really pretty eyes. But still, what did it matter? I had my badly behaved horse, my trusty hound, and the wind in my hair. I was fine.
My treacherous mind replayed the highlights back to me: his smile, his blushing face, the way his eyebrow quirked in pleasure at the sound of her giggling at his lame joke. Whatever. I told myself, firmly. I don't care.
Whatever. Myself said back, slyly. But I bet they're still at it. What if he likes her? He's single, she's single…who knows what will happen? Then, more scenes played in my mind's eye, unbidden. He was whispering in her ear while she giggled. Then she was trailing her fingers up his chest, he was shirtless, he was kissing her, he crushed her body to his-
Demon seemed to sense my growing agitation and he whinnied in alarm, bringing me back to the present.
Nice try, brain. I thought, shaking the images away.
We reached the clearing and I kept him restrained to a canter while we made a couple of wide circles, just to test the ground. Satisfied that Tommen's assessment had been accurate, I reached down and patted the horse's neck, before securing myself in the saddle.
"Alright, Demon. Let's see what you can do."
He burst forward, so wild with the joy of finally being let loose that he bucked a few times, exuberantly, and I laughed - a little hysterically - holding onto the pommel for dear life. We galloped flat-out until the meadow started to slope down into an embankment, and I steered him to circle back. The meadow was large enough; larger than any of the fields I had taken my own horses to gallop in back home, but Demon was so much faster than any horse I'd ridden before. Considering that I learned how to ride on my Uncle Gary's champion thoroughbred, that was really saying something. But this wasn't the gait of a trained race-horse. This was raw and wild and exhilarating. Larry was a speck of brown in the distance as he sprinted to try to keep up.
After he had burned off his initial burst of speed, his gallop slowed into a smooth, easy rhythm and I let go of his reins to spread my arms like wings. I tilted my head back to look up at the sky and breathed, deeply, releasing myself into the moment. I closed my eyes and let myself believe I was flying. I felt high on a dizzying combination of freedom and danger. I would never need drugs if I could always have this.
I wasn't sure how long we rode for but, eventually, Demon came to a natural stop, breathing heavily. I swung myself forward in the saddle, hugging his neck and sighing, contentedly.
He growled.
I rocked back in my saddle, ready to admonish him for his grumpiness, when he pawed the ground in agitation and started to skitter away from the treeline a few feet in front of us and I realised the growl hadn't come from him. Somewhere, on the other side of the meadow, Larry barked, and I heard someone call my name from behind me. I whipped my head towards the noise, distracted at the exact wrong moment as a wolf lunged from the trees, snapping at Demon's legs and he reared, throwing me from the saddle before I could react.
I landed on my already painful ribs and the air was knocked from my lungs. I gasped, trying to scramble to my feet, to throw myself back into the saddle, but I couldn't breathe. I drew my daggers, forcing myself up to one knee with no small amount of effort as my lungs still refused to expand.
I heard my name being called again, closer now, but not as close as the snarling wolf in front of me.
Realisation dawned on me at the same moment it seemed to dawn on the wolf, as I felt the amulet's weight against my chest, and he stopped growling and cocked his head at me. I held his eyes, still trying to breathe, and eventually I was able to swallow a lungful of air and find my voice.
"Good boy." I said, rising to my feet and sheathing my daggers.
"Lauren!" Alistair was beside me, and I barely had a moment for my brain to register surprise that it was him before he turned his attention to the wolf, raising his sword.
"No!" I said, moving to stand between them. Larry flew to my side, snarling, and I stilled him with a hand. "Down, boy."
Alistair looked at me like I had lost my mind. I rolled my eyes, fishing the amulet out of my armour and raised an eyebrow, pointedly.
"Protection against wolfies, remember?" I said, only realising how intimate a reference that was when I saw the look on his face, and I averted my eyes, turning back to the wolf. "White wolf." I noted. "One of Witherfang's scouts. Hey, boy."
The wolf padded over to me, bowing his head in submission, his eyes darting warily between Alistair and Larry, and I dropped to kneel in front of him, ignoring Alistair's protesting hand on my shoulder.
"Tell the Lady of the Forest that there are to be no more attacks on the Dalish. We leave for the ruins at first light tomorrow, and we're bringing Zathrian to her. This ends tomorrow."
The wolf gave a low whine and I scratched his ear, gratefully, rising back to my feet. I started to turn to Alistair before turning back to the retreating wolf.
"The curse, I mean." I added, realising how my words could have been misinterpreted as a threat through a game of wolf telephone. "We're going to end the curse tomorrow."
I nodded, satisfied with my clarification, and reluctantly turned to face my would-be rescuer, clutching my side. The ribs had been bruised before I'd been forcibly thrown from a giant horse. I might have to accept some healing after all.
Demon was grazing a few feet away. Most horses would be spooked and skittish for a long time after a wolf encounter, but this horse was completely insane.
I looked from Demon to Alistair and my mind replayed the images from earlier: the smiles, the blushing, the giggling. I forced down the rising bile in my throat but I felt my eyes darken.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, trying to keep my tone light and unaccusing.
"I might ask you the same question."
"You might, but I asked you first."
"I was looking for you." He said, glancing away, nervously. "I thought you seemed upset. I didn't think you ought to be left alone, given your…you know. Flammability."
"That's not your concern." I said, in a clipped voice. I really didn't want to have a conversation with him about my flammability. It had been bad enough that he'd witnessed it, I didn't relish the prospect of furthering my humiliation by admitting that he had been the spark. "How did you even find me, anyway?"
"I followed you." He said, as though it should have been obvious.
"What do you mean, you followed me?" I demanded. "I've been here for like an hour. What, were you hiding in the trees spying on me the whole time?"
"I wasn't spying! And I wasn't hiding, either. I followed you because you looked really upset, and when I saw you ride off, I was worried. I probably should have left when I realised you were just taking Demon for some exercise, but…you just looked so happy. I haven't seen you so unburdened in so long. I didn't want to interrupt, but I…guess I lost track of the time, watching you ride."
"Right." I said, eyeing him, curiously. "So...not hiding or spying, just following me, waiting where I couldn't see you and not announcing yourself so that you could secretly watch me for an hour?"
"Do you have to make it sound so…?" He searched for the word.
"Creepy?" I offered, helpfully.
"Oh, thank you." He said, sarcastically. "I was going to go with sinister, but sure."
"Well, what would you call it?"
He looked away, clearing his throat.
"Love?" He said, quietly.
I tensed, warily, and narrowed my eyes at him.
"Well…you and I haven't exactly managed to agree on the definition of that term lately." I said, trying to keep my voice as neutral as possible.
"I know things between us are…strained, at the moment, but you must know I still care for you." He said, quietly, watching my face intently.
"Things aren't strained between us, Alistair." I muttered, glowering at him. "There is no us. And I don't need you to watch out for me, okay? I can take care of myself."
"Hmm." He said, doubtfully. "So then I bet it wouldn't hurt if I was to do this."
He reached out, faster than I could move to stop him, and lightly grazed his fingers along my injured ribs. The gesture was almost playful. If Grayson had done the same thing, I'd have grumbled and slapped his arm away. But Alistair and I had been so far from playful for so long that my shock at his actions almost overrode the pain that shot through my side. I gasped, sharply, doubling over and holding my ribs, protectively.
"You need to get that looked at." He said, grimly.
"Are you done?" I demanded, feeling the bile I had swallowed rising back up. "What's the matter, Alistair? What, you thought you hadn't already hurt me enough for one day?"
"I gently touched you." He said, but he threw me an apologetic look. "Perhaps not the best way to prove my point. I'm sorry. I don't enjoy hurting you, Lauren."
"I find that hard to believe." I snapped. "We all enjoy what we're good at."
He studied me, thoughtfully, and nodded.
"Alright. I suppose I deserved that." He said, quietly. "That's okay, Lauren. I can take it. If you need to say cruel things to hurt me, if that makes you feel better. I can take it from you."
"I wasn't…" I stopped myself from finishing the lie when I realised that's what it was, and I sighed, feeling my anger deflate. The reflex to mask my hurt with vindictiveness was disarmed by his calm display of maturity. "You're right. I'm sorry."
"You needn't be." He said, and I forced myself not to glare in response to the affection in his eyes. "I meant what I said. I can take it, if it helps."
"No." I said, reluctantly, lowering my eyes. "You don't deserve that. I just…I thought it would be easier. To hate you."
"Is it?" He asked, hopefully. "Easier?"
I shrugged.
"Couldn't tell you." I admitted, with a rueful smile. "Never did manage to pull it off. It would help if you could be a little meaner. Give me something to aim at, at least."
"I can be mean." He said, helpfully. "Do you want me to shout at you? Call you names, make fun of your hair, that sort of thing? Maybe poke you in the ribs again?"
"Not sure name-calling would do it, honestly." I replied, thoughtfully. "I'm pretty self-assured. Sticks and stones, and all that."
"So you'd like me to throw stones at you?" He said, looking doubtful. "I'm not sure that approach is congruent with my desire to keep you alive. I have terrible aim, you know. One badly thrown rock at the wrong moment and it could spell disaster."
"Well, I'm sure you'll come up with something." I said, with a tentative smile, hesitating before rolling my eyes at myself and adding. "Like…if you really want me to hate you…you should keep flirting with other women in front of me. That's probably a sound strategy."
I tried to match his light, teasing tone, but his face fell and he studied me, looking confused.
"Flirting?" He asked, gravely, as though I'd accused him of murder. "I'd like to help, Lauren, but I'm not sure I could manage that, if I'm honest."
"No?" I asked, flippantly.
"Well, it's just…I'm not exactly available for flirting these days." He said, his eyes boring into me with a searching look. "Sort of a…self-imposed lifelong ban, you see."
"Really?" I asked, narrowing my eyes slightly. I shrugged. "Could have fooled me."
"You're talking about earlier. With Lanaya." He said. I watched as realisation spread across his face and his eyebrows shot up in surprise. "So that's what the fire was all about. I knew Morrigan was making that whole "magical exertion" thing up!" He looked pleased with himself that his instincts had been correct, before growing serious again. "But…you know I wasn't flirting with her. Right?"
"Please. I've never seen such flirting." I said, snippily.
"Well, what about you and that…Tommen fellow." He said, indignantly. "I'm deceptively dangerous." He purred, seductively, in a poor imitation of me.
"Well, someone isn't beating the spying allegations." I said, with an involuntary laugh of surprise. "And I did not say it like that."
"Did too." He argued. "Honestly, I think the poor bloke's smitten. He'll be ruined forever now, thanks to you."
"Oh, come off it." I grinned, despite myself. "At least he didn't blush. Does Lanaya know you weren't flirting with her? I'm sure she'll be very disappointed to hear that. How many broken hearts does a man have to leave behind before it can be called a string, anyway? What do you reckon, three?"
"Oh, you come off it!" He replied, propping his hands on his hips. "If you want to start a tally of broken hearts, you've got a head start on me, you…you vixen."
"I do not!" I insisted, folding my arms, indignantly. "And…if I do…well, I can't help that I'm naturally charming and charismatic. And really, really, devastatingly beautiful. It's a curse."
"Well, I can't help that I'm naturally charming and charismatic and really, really, devastatingly handsome, can I?"
"Evidently not." I snapped. "It's very annoying."
"Well…then…I guess we can agree on something, at least."
"Oh, no, no. I'm not annoying. I'm annoyed. I'm the annoyee in this relationship." I huffed, moodily. "Or…non-relationship." I grumbled.
"Do you know what's really annoying?"
"Yes." I said, shortly, eyeing him pointedly.
"No, what's really annoying is that this…sparring match is the most fun I've had in weeks." He said, with a barely-suppressed smile. I scoffed, shaking my head. "Oh, come on. You can't tell me you're not enjoying it a little."
I crossed my arms, stubbornly.
"I can." I insisted, but my voice sounded unconvincing even to my ears. The soft, hopeful look on his face broke my resolve and I rolled my eyes. "Okay, fine. I suppose it hasn't been…completely terrible."
He grinned down at me, apparently satisfied, but didn't reply. I let the silence linger for a few moments more before raising my eyebrows, prompting him for a response.
"What?" I asked, squirming uncomfortably under his gaze.
"Nothing. I'm scared that if I keep speaking, I'll say the wrong thing and you'll stop talking to me again." He said, nervously. "And I'd really like us to keep talking. I'd like us to be friends. If you'll have me."
"Well…I do reserve the right to stop speaking with you again at any time, for any reason, real or imagined, in perpetuity throughout the universe." I said, haughtily, before softening. "But right now, I guess I'm okay with us being…friends, or whatever."
"Or whatever." He grinned, happily. "I'm glad to hear that. Very glad."
"Well, good." I said, unfolding my arms and trying to remember how to stand like a normal person. "Then I don't have to try to hate you anymore."
"So, to be clear, that means I shouldn't flirt with any other women in front of you?" He asked, mischievously. I narrowed my eyes.
"In perpetuity throughout the universe, Alistair." I reminded him, with a glare.
"Alright." He said, holding his hands up in surrender. "I can live with that."
I nodded, looking away from him, trying to process how I felt about the prospect of embarking on some kind of weird, stumbling friendship with him. He was standing too close to me, I couldn't parse it. My mind was swimming with him. His stupid perfect face was like kryptonite, and my brain was useless before it. The encounter had caught me off-guard and I still hadn't regained my footing in reality. I'd have to think about it more when I was alone…but it didn't feel awful.
"We should get back to camp." I said, reluctantly, fighting my self-destructive desire to spend more time alone with him. "I think Demon's suitably tired out from his ride. Where's your horse?"
He stuck his fingers in his mouth and blew a short, sharp whistle and his steed galloped into view, crossing the meadow and skidding to a stop beside him. I considered my own horse, who was still grazing a few feet away, and blew a whistle of my own. He lifted his head and nickered, defiantly at me, and then went back to grazing, but Larry rushed to my side, looking up at me expectantly. Alistair grinned at the exchange and I deftly ignored him, trudging over to Demon and hoisting myself into the saddle.
We rode back to camp in something that might have been companionable silence, but for the fact that any time I looked over at him he was looking at me with a dopey, infuriatingly endearing smile on his face.
Tommen greeted us at the entrance, and I noticed with a sense of grim satisfaction that Alistair's smile faltered. I threw him a knowing look and rolled my eyes, and the smile reappeared instantly.
We handed our reins over to Tommen and his friend, and I watched them until Demon was securely tethered to his hitching post, relieved that the run-around had actually appeared to improve his disposition. He was on his absolute best behaviour now. He only tried to bite Tommen a couple of times, and his attempts were half-hearted at best, like he was only doing it because it was his expected duty.
I thought I had sensed Alistair drifting back to where we had left Grayson and Morrigan, so I whipped my head around in surprise when I felt his hand on my arm. I shot him a questioning look and saw that he appeared to be weighing up his next words carefully before he spoke.
"Cullen." He said, softly.
"Alistair, how many times-"
"You should write to him." He said, firmly, cutting me off. I frowned up at him, wondering what this meant. Was he telling me to move on? Was that what I had agreed to when I had accepted his friendship?
"What?" The question was posed to be all-encompassing. What do you mean by that?
"Earlier, you said it would be best to let him believe you were gone, and hope he forgets that you ever existed." I nodded, and he grimaced, shaking his head. "He won't. It's not possible. You should let him know. If it were me, I'd want to know. I know what it's like to live in a world without you in it. I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy."
"Oh." I said, relaxing slightly at his words. "Right."
"To be clear." He said, raising an eyebrow. "Cullen is my worst enemy."
"Ahead of the Archdemon?" I smirked, but my heart swelled.
"Well, you let me know if the Archdemon starts making moon eyes at you, but until that happens…yes." He said, decisively.
"You're a sort of moron, really, aren't you?" I asked, affectionately.
He laughed, nodding.
"This is nice." He said, looking back down at me, thoughtfully. Grayson spotted us across the camp and beckoned for us to join him. I nodded, directing Alistair's attention to him, and he turned to jog towards him, gracing me with a final smile before he left. I stood where I was, watching him with a thoughtful frown.
Friends.
Now that I was out of range of his tractor-beam eyes and his arresting smile, I suddenly realised what a truly unmitigated disaster this was. What was I thinking? I had heard him telling Wynne the night before that he was reconsidering our breakup, and it seemed to largely stem from how much he hated us not talking. And now we were. So now he had no reason to miss me, and his simple little chantry boy heart would be settled, and I had just blown my chances of him realising his doubts to their natural conclusion. I had been too hurt and stubborn and uncertain to really admit to myself that I was lost without him. But one conversation with him was all it took to shatter my flimsily constructed illusions, and I had never been more sure about anything: I didn't want to be his friend.
"Sure." I whispered, as I forced myself to swallow the roar of warring emotions raging within me before begrudgingly making my way over to join them. "This is nice."
AN: I could give you a long, dramatic explanation for the years long delay, but I would like to think that we're past that point in our relationship.
So this was weird! I haven't written anything in forever that wasn't uni-related, so I thought what better time to return to writing fanfiction than two weeks before my as yet unfinished dissertation is due? Let it never be said that I don't have my priorities in order.