Chapter 39: Choices

With Wynne, Morrigan, and Zevran all exhausted and Leliana still asleep, we decided to delay travel for another day to allow for recovery. I climbed into our tent, grimacing at the two new holes in the canvas. Aedan, Alistair, Sten, and Shale set up some sort of watch schedule, and after a few minutes to fix trampled tents and settle in, every quieted down and slept. I cuddled into my bedroll and was asleep in moments despite being alone in the tent.

When I woke, the sun was shining fully down on the canvas, and the air inside the tent was stiflingly warm. Sitting up and scooping my tangled brown hair into a quick pony tail, I crawled out of the tent in my night dress, too worried to care who saw me. Alistair was sitting right outside, and he smiled sweetly at me as I emerged. A quick look around showed Morrigan sitting by the fire making poultices, Aedan and Zevran leaning casually back against a fallen tree trunk talking quietly, and Sten and Shale, still vigilant, watching the woods suspiciously. The mage was awake, huddled in a ball near Morrigan, with Prince still staring at him balefully. Of Leliana and Wynne, there was no sign.

I plopped down beside Alistair, leaning in to rest my head on his shoulder. He handed me a hunk each of bread and jerky, and I took them gratefully.

"You okay? You look tired. You should have woken me."

"I'm fine, love. Just sick of worrying. We need to figure out what to do with him." He nodded in the direction of the young elf cowering by the fire. "You should have seen his face when he realised both of us were templars. I thought he'd soil himself."

I allowed myself a brief moment of satisfaction, and almost immediately felt guilty. I shrugged and changed the subject.

"Wynne? Leli?"

"Wynne was out a few minutes ago. She told me she's keeping Leliana asleep to help her recover. She went back in there just before you came out."

I sighed with relief. "Thank God. If she ... if we hadn't..." I was unable to voice the terrible thought of a world without Leliana. Alistair wrapped his arm around me and squeezed slightly.

"I know. We all love her too. But she's going to be fine. And by the way, that thing you did last night was amazing. I'm impressed."

I heard a rustle, and Aedan and Zevran appeared, settling in beside us. Aedan squeezed my hand. "Me too, little sister. You're amazing."

I blushed crimson, stuttering, trying to demur. "I didn't ... it's not ... Look, any of us would have done it if they knew how."

"Yep. But no one else did, did they? I'm assuming that's how you saved Theron and Tomas?" Aedan squeezed again.

I nodded, and Alistair kissed the top of my head. The blush just wouldn't go away. I was embarrassed by their praise, embarrassed to be embarrassed, which just made it worse. I ducked my head and tried to interrupt the vicious cycle of blushiness.

Zevran spoke up. "How did you even know we were under attack, cara mia? Even our lovely Orlesian Bard did not realise until it was too late."

I giggled. "It's your fault, really, Zev. I woke up and had this itchy feeling down my spine ... sort of like when Aedan makes you follow me, or when you try to play pranks on me while I'm meditating. Apparently living with a Crow has given me a sixth sense about these things."

I grinned as Zevran puffed out his chest. "Excellent! Then I shall claim the victory as my own, yes? Without me, you never would have known what that sensation was."

We all laughed, but I could see the underlying insecurity in Zev's smile. He was feeling responsible for Leliana's injury, thinking that as an assassin, he should have known we were about to be ambushed. I wanted to hug him and tell him it wasn't his fault, but I knew acknowledging it would only make things worse. Alistair, in his own endearing fashion, solved the dilemma for me. He held his hand out to Zevran, and when the surprised assassin took it, Alistair pumped it enthusiastically.

"You can claim any victory you want. Last night you saved Leliana's life and nearly ran yourself to death doing it. You have our gratitude, and my respect. Thank you, Zev. Truly."

The shock on Zevran's face was priceless, and I wished I had a camera. Aedan grinned at Alistair, pleased, and I chuckled softly, nuzzling my face into the brawny shoulder of the man I loved. I was impressed; in the game, it hadn't seemed like Alistair had the maturity to recognise Zevran's worth underneath all the Antivan's bluster, and I was amazed at this more confident Alistair. Duncan's death damaged him so deeply – I didn't realise exactly how deeply until now. I shuffled to my knees, leaning over to draw Alistair into a soft, loving kiss, then pulling away and climbing to my feet.

"I'm going to go check on Wynne and Leli."

The three men smiled and nodded, and I padded over to the tent the two women shared. Passing Morrigan, I smiled brightly at her and she nodded back, a small smile of her own looking so uncomfortable on her serious face. I called out quietly, and then entered when Wynne invited me in. Leliana was still asleep in her bedroll, but she'd recovered her colour and looked comfortably normal. I smiled at Wynne and sat beside her; the mage returned my smile. When she spoke, it was soft, but she didn't whisper, and I inferred that we wouldn't disturb Leli with a conversation.

"How is she?"

"She is fine, actually. I was just thinking about dispelling the sleep spell. She should be fully recovered, though she'll need a bit of extra rest for the next few days."

I nodded. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine. Just needed a bit of time for my mana to recover. I suppose most of us needed some time after last night."

Turning to Leliana, the mage muttered an incantation under her breath and I felt the brief flare of magic I'd become accustomed to. She placed her hand on the bard's forehead, and Leliana's eyes shot open with a gasp. Her eyes were wild, until her gaze settled on Wynne's motherly face, and she relaxed.

"What happened?" Her voice was gravelly, and I handed her a water skin which she drank from gratefully.

Wynne and I took turns telling her what had transpired since the attack. She was visibly shaken by learning how sick she had been; despite this, she gave me a dirty look for getting Zevran to threaten the little mage. I just shook my head – she was too forgiving, by half.

Wynne helped her to sit, and she pushed the covers back to gaze sadly at the ugly puckered scar on her thigh. I was sympathetic, but she was quick to dismiss that and assure me she wasn't bothered by it. I decided it was a good thing Fereldans didn't wear mini-skirts, Morrigan aside.

Wynne and I helped Leliana dress. Her armour was damaged from both the arrow and the subsequent cutting to expose the wound, and we bound the pants together with strips of cloth as best we could. Finally ready, the three of us emerged from the tent, and I realised all eyes were on us. The elf mage hastily looked away when he saw me, and I grimaced. Alistair held his hand out to me, and I went to him, snuggling as much as I could into his armoured chest.

Finally the group of us gathered around the fire with the mage who Aedan called Dariel across from me and Alistair. I tried to look non-threatening; by the pale complexion on the elf's face, I didn't succeed very well. Before Aedan could start talking, I spoke up, and Dariel flinched at the sound of my voice.

"Look, Dariel? I want to apologise for threatening you. We needed to know what that poison was, but ... I shouldn't have. I'm sorry." He refused to make eye contact, and I sighed and tried again. "You should know I'm not a real templar. Neither is Alistair. We're not associated with the Chantry or the Circle. I'm just a girl with a few weird tricks up my sleeve. I wouldn't have actually hurt you, I swear. I just wanted to make sure you weren't hiding anything. It was a nasty thing to do and I really am sorry."

The elf risked a quick glance at me, and I tried to smile at him. He nodded, slightly, and looked away again, but he sat up straighter, his expression more confident. He still looked scared – unsurprising, really – but he didn't look like he was about to wet himself any more.

Aedan took over, introducing each of us in turn. The elf looked with interest at Morrigan, and with poorly disguised pity at Wynne, to my surprise. Once that was done, Aedan asked Dariel to tell the rest of us his story.

"Start from the beginning, okay?" He smiled reassuringly, and Dariel nodded.

"I was born in the Alienage in Amaranthine." He had a surprisingly low baritone for such a small, young-looking boy, and I blinked in surprise. "It was ... not a nice place to live. My mother worked when she could as a servant in some of the shops and things, and my father was a drunk. There was never enough coin to support all of us. I had an older brother and a younger sister, and most weeks, we were very close to starvation. Even the other elves looked at us with pity. Half the time we lived on the street, begging to survive."

I was surprised at the completely flat tone he maintained during his entire speech. Uncomfortable as the subject matter had to be, I expected more squirming or stuttering. More emotion. Then again, maybe he'd had to learn to suppress those emotions.

"When I was seven, I was trying to earn some coin by doing odd jobs – cleaning out the mabari kennels, or sweeping floors, that sort of thing. If I got lucky, I'd get a few coppers for my efforts, which I used to buy food for my little sister. My brother tried to work too, for a while, but eventually got mixed up with a group of thugs. We didn't see him much after that – he went to live with them, wherever it was that they lived. One day, in the kennels, one of the kennel masters saw me cleaning up, and lost his temper. He had always been scary, and I usually avoided going there when he was working, but we hadn't eaten in two days and I was desperate. The kennel master got angry, and started hitting me, and calling me names, and I just ... lost it. I don't know exactly what happened, but the next thing I knew, the kennel was on fire, and his clothes caught ... he dropped me and I tried to run, but I just couldn't stand the thought of the dogs burning. I released as many as I could reach, but one of them had been burned and couldn't walk. I half dragged, half carried the poor beast out, and when I put my hand over his burn, it just ... healed.