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Alistair groaned, his muscles aching beneath his pack, his sword and his shield. It had been a long day, and it felt longer still after miles trudging in the Brecilian Forest. Dhargus, it transpired, loved rolling around in the mud and the loam, but had not proven himself to be particularly good at directions. Zevran had laughed when asked. “You do realize I am from Antiva City? I can scarcely tell the bottom of a tree from its top, my friend.” Which had left Alistair and Dis to try and navigate.
Normally Dis was excellent at directions. She’d been able to lead them unerringly through the Deep Roads and through Kinloch Hold, but here in the woods they found themselves going in circles more often than not. The first few times it happened Dis laughed at herself. It became less funny as the afternoon wore on into the evening, the sky darkening, starlight and moonlight edging through the boughs of the trees. They were trying to find a place to make camp at, and Dis had seen a good one several miles back in the middle of the day, but now they were turned around all over. Alistair had tried to keep track of the forest’s twisting trails, but found himself just as hopelessly lost.
“Stupid sodding trees,” Dis muttered.
“Now there, it’s not the trees’ fault,” Alistair protested. She gave him a dangerous look and he amended his statement. “Clearly it’s the dirt’s fault, you see. Who gave it the right to cover the ground like this?”
Dis tried to chuckle, wiping a few stray hairs back from her face, gazing up at him. Sometimes it still surprised him how small she was, especially when she seemed so fierce. “Oh, you’re right. Dust and dirt do ruin everything.” She let out a sharp laugh. “I knew things would be different on the surface,” she said ruefully, “but this is the first time I’ve really felt it.”
“Oh?” Alistair asked, nearly walking into a tree branch. He ducked quickly, feeling it arc over his hair and scratch his scalp. For a moment he envied her height; far fewer branches to avoid at that level. “Ouch.”
“See what I mean? For one, there’s all these bloody trees. Even the ones thataren’t attacking us are weird and tall and way too branchy.” She scowled at a drooping birch as if expecting it to ambush them. Alistair reminded himself that it was perfectly capable of doing so here, and in fact well within its rights. “But aside from that, this is the first place where I’ve really noticed I have no Stone sense.”
“I’ve heard of that. It’s how dwarves navigate in the Deep Roads, yes?”
“Sort of. It’s like a song, but one you can feel,” Dis mused. She yawned, and almost tripped over a pile of brambles Alistair could barely see. He lunged for her, grabbing her before she could tumble into them, and pulled her back.
“Careful there!” Alistair said, though did he mean it towards her, or himself? He liked the way it felt, his arms around her, her close against him –
She was still in his arms for a moment, for longer than she needed to be, before she extricated herself. She did not meet his gaze. “Um… uh, thanks, Alistair,” she said.
“Any time,” he said, and then felt immediately self-conscious. Oh, bother it all, he couldn’t be letting himself daydream like this, thinking of holding her closely, in the dark –
“Right!” she said hastily. “Um. What was I talking about? Stone sense? Anyway, I can’t feel it here. Hear it. And that’s why we’re lost.” She sighed. “I should’ve asked the Dalish for a map or something. If they even make maps. Do they make maps? I have no idea.” She yawned again.
“Come on,” Alistair said, catching sight of a familiar oak up ahead. “I think I know where we are.” He could just make out Zevran and Dhargus at the base of the tree, Zevran waving. “We’ve found it!”
“About bloody blasted time,” Dis groaned. “Remind me once this is over, to stay as far away from forests as I can unless we’ve got a guide.” She glanced down. “Though some of these plants do smell nice –”
Alistair thrust out an arm to keep her from getting any closer to the plant in question. “That’s rashvine!” he warned. “And as much as you would still look lovely covered in stinging pustules and blotchy rashes, perhaps you’d rather not.”
She laughed. “Well then, I’m glad you’re here to help,” she said, pulling back from the rashvine tendrils fluttering in the night breeze. She paused, then glanced up at him. “So you think I’m lovely?”
“Um – uh –”
Dis laughed again, starlight catching in her dark eyes. She really was lovely. “Well, thank you.” She hurried off to meet the others, leaving Alistair feeling very much a fool. And more than a little pleased.