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On an autumn trip to the Freemarches, Surana’s party had met an unexpected cluster of Darkspawn one evening and had almost been overwhelmed. She was locked staff to blade with a genlock, teeth gritted, when a rallying cry came through the trees, and with a palpable sense of relief on everyone’s part, the tide turned.
The Wardens fell into step together, but none so well as her and Carver Hawke.
“You’re impressive,” she told him after the battle had ended, pulling her stray hair back into its ponytail. “Most people have to be taught to move with magic like that.”
“Yeah, well.” He was a new recruit—fairly young, though despite it all she was too. He was tall with dark hair and rapidly flushing cheeks. Interesting. “My sisters were mages. Are. One is. Um.”
He wasn’t under her command, directly, and his eyes flicked back to his captain.
“I should—I have to go.”
Surana grinned as he disappeared back into the huddle of Marcher Wardens. She hoped this wasn’t the last time they would meet.
— — — —
She hadn’t really thought about who would be answering her letters when she sent them to the captain of the local Wardens, though for a while she’d had a nagging suspicion he couldn’t read. The newest came back with an affirmative—a joint operation to wipe out this new cell was a go—and it was signed by Carver Hawke, his name crossed out with a single strike to read the captain’s instead. She wondered if he’d done it on purpose, or if it was just muscle memory. Some Wardens wrote home often.
She spotted him when the parties met at the entrance to a cave. She and the captain had each brought a small contingent of mostly melee fighters—it would be a close-quarters fight, and arrows and spells bouncing off the walls would help no one. She waved to Carver as they descended into the dark, and he waved back, already blushing. He was cute—she couldn’t deny it. Maybe they’d have a chance to talk after the battle.
They didn’t, though. The groups walked back to the city together, but the captain hogged her attention. When they reached the gates, the Wardens dispersed. Maybe he wasn’t interested after all.
She’d have time to find out. They’d be in the city for a week.
— — — —
They finally talked in a pub: the Tipsy Nug, where the Marcher Wardens were staying while in town. The younger Wardens had gotten together for drinking games, and it felt good to let loose, to sip mead and lose at cards. Carver sat next to her, a burning space between them.
“And that’s how we ended up with a mabari named Pupcake!”
She liked the way he told stories, crowing,
a little tipsy and a little grand. It was loud enough to be for the group, but his attention was on her.
“Have you met my mabari?” she asked. He was napping back at her inn.
“Just in battle.”
“Would you like to? We’re only a few blocks away from my room.”
Carver turned red, glancing over his shoulder as if some stranger would overhear. Her offer had been innocent, but she wasn’t upset he’d taken it another way.
“Yeah, no. Of course. Actually, I think it’s time for me to turn in. Feeling a little tipsy.”
“It is the Tipsy Nug.”
He laughed, but stood anyway, rubbing the back of his neck.
“I enjoyed this,” she told him. He gave a quick nod. She stood too; the party was dying down. Gathering her things, she turned toward the door. Carver had already approached the stairs.
“Wait! Surana!”
She turned back to him, eyebrows raised. He met her eyes, then looked down at the floor.
“Goodnight,” he said. She sighed.
“Goodnight.”
— — — —
They had one final mission together before Surana’s party would travel south again. Hopefully, they’d get to the root of the Darkspawn problem tonight. They split into pairs to sweep the forest.
“I’ll take Carver,” Surana announced. Her reasons weren’t entirely selfish—he truly did work with her magic better than any warrior she’d known. They went off through the trees, moving silently, and before long they hit a camp of hurlocks.
She held up three fingers. Carver nodded. Two, one….
She lashed out with a freezing ray, covering Carver as he surged forward. They’d caught the Darkspawn off guard and downed the first few quickly.
“Watch out!” Surana called as a thrown dagger flew Carver’s way. He ducked behind her arcane shield like it was second nature. They wove closer together, back to back surrounded by a cluster, and she covered him while he swung out, and he did vice versa. There was one darkspawn left when, inexplicably, Carver turned toward her.
“I have to ask you something!” Carver called as she shot a bolt of ice over his shoulder. The hurlock’s sword only barely missed. “Would you go out with me? A date? Mabari walking?”
“ What?” she cried, astounded that he’d picked now to talk. He whirled around, and with a final blow, the hurlock hit the ground. “I— Yes.” She took a moment to right herself—armor in place, hair in check, thoughts mostly in order. She managed a smile as she caught her breath. “I’d been waiting for you to ask.”
He looked a combination of embarrassed and relieved.
“Let’s get back to the group,” she told him for now. She let him nod and cross through her space. When he was close enough, she briefly linked their hands, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. She smiled. She didn’t think he could get any redder.