Chapter 20: Leliana

Returning to camp took less time than Leliana would have liked; they were discovered by a patrol after they’d walked only a few minutes on the trail where they’d been ambushed. King Cailan had noted that they – or really, Nathaniel – was missing and had sent out search parties at sunrise. As the patrol hadn’t realised they would find Leliana with their missing Arl, they’d only brought one spare mount, but neither archer could bring themselves to complain about sharing.

As they rode, Nathaniel amused her with sarcastic and witty comments whispered in her ear, which she couldn’t react to without the soldiers figuring out their game; she punished him by shifting imperceptibly in the saddle, ensuring that she brushed up against him suggestively, relishing the gasps and stutters she could hear each time. By the time they reached the King’s camp, they were both breathless and aroused – but they also both had duties to attend to.

Nathaniel promised to see her at the campfire after supper, bowing to her formally and weaving his way towards the command tent. He’d insisted she take the day off – and truthfully, someone else would have been assigned to ride her usual route already – so she had some time. She felt edgy, torn between wishing the evening would come sooner, and hoping it would never come. Her doubts had returned as soon as Nathaniel had disappeared from sight.

Muttering to herself irritably, still feeling tired and cold, she liberated a bucket each of hot and cold water from the firepit where they were kept, and then trudged to her tent – reminded of Nathaniel again by the Amaranthine Bear on the fabric of the tent and her blankets – and washed. When done, wrapping herself in warm, dry bedclothes, she fell into her bedroll and was asleep before she remembered hitting the pillow.

Her dreams were of a far naughtier variety than the night before; she woke, groaning in frustration, right before she would have attained satisfaction in the dream. It didn’t make for a pleasant mood, and she flopped gracelessly onto her back, working to calm her breath and her racing heart.

“My Lady?” she heard through the wall of the tent; Nathaniel was clearly outside, but she wondered if he’d overheard her wordless complaints.

She sat up abruptly, ran her hands through her hair and looked around. She was covered; her hair was probably stuck to the side of her head since she’d fallen asleep with it wet, but otherwise she was presentable. She grabbed her brush and took a quick couple of swipes through her hair before responding.