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“Where’s Regan?” Alistair pulled himself out of the tent he was forced to share with the would-be assassin who had tried to end their journey far earlier than they would like. They had decided to set up camp after fighting off the failed ambush, not as worried about travel time as they could have been. When the strange woman had run up, not long after they’d left the circle, begging for help, it had seemed to be the best choice to send Leliana ahead with Greagoir’s men to Redcliff. Even after their arrival, preparation would take some time; better to get it underway as soon as possible, while still helping out others. The Wardens needed the good image, after all.
“She and Jasper took the elf to the river to tend to his wounds.” Wynne looked up from the pot she was stirring and smiled at the young man. She’d agreed to take over dinner detail for several reasons, not the least of which included the fact that the young woman and her mabari were a little better equipped to handle any sneak attacks that might come. They’d decided to let Alistair sleep, because he would be taking first watch. “She also said something about perhaps washing up. But I think she forgot her change of clothes. Would you be a dear and take them to her, just in case?”
Alistair just stared at the mage for a moment. Had she just said that Regan had taken the assassin with her … somewhere alone and in the dark? Was she insane? It took several tries to form a coherent sentence, and even then it was short and barely understandable. Thankfully, Wynne seemed to catch his meaning and pointed off in the direction she said they’d headed. He grabbed her clothes and a torch and headed through the trees, telling himself he was just concerned about their leader being all but alone with an assassin who’d admitted he was hired to kill them.
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“That sounds awful.” Regan worked the soap through her hair, trying to get the last of the blood out. She knew it was probably stupid … bathing with the man who’d tried to kill her nearby. But, Maker’s balls, she had to get the blood off, and Wynne couldn’t be asked to deal with both guarding him and making dinner. That’s why Jasper was with her. She’d taken precautions, of course; she wasn’t stupid. But still, there she was … having a conversation about The Crows, with a Crow, while bathing, like it was nothing out of the ordinary.
Alistair neared the edge of the brush just in time to hear her ask what the elf fancied. His stomach felt like it just dropped. She sounded … interested. He heard splashing … and the elf’s laughter before the response that included her. Pushing through the last of the branches as quietly as possible, he wasn’t sure what he’d see. But it certainly wasn’t the scene in front of him.
She asked a few more questions as she worked on getting the rest of herself clean. The occasional glance back at the elf told her all was still safe – he was still blindfolded and bound to a nearby tree; loosely, of course, but bound none the less, with Jasper’s attention fixed on him. “Well, I’m happy to have you along,” she laughed. Eventually certain the last of the blood had been removed, she dropped beneath the surface, trusting Jasper to keep a sharp watch.
Alistair was relieved to see the elf was tied up; at least she’d been careful. He could make out a bandage around an arm, and maybe one around the leg, but he was still securely bound … and blindfolded. Not to mention he was turned so he was facing away from the lake. He felt a little better about the whole situation … until he looked out at the water and saw her rise out of the water. It would have been awkward enough had she simply shot out of the water and sank back down. But she surfaced where the water was only up to her waist! She had her back to the shore, mostly; he could make out the lines and shadows of curves, but the details were lost to distance and a cloudy night. But it was enough to set his cheeks blazing. After staring, silently, for more than a full minute, he all but dropped her clothes on a nearby rock and tore back through the trees toward camp.
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Regan stared out at the forest. She’d taken over for Alistair halfway through the night, hoping for a little pleasant conversation before he turned in. What she’d gotten was barely a ‘good evening’ before he disappeared into his tent. And she didn’t know what to make of it. He’d never been that short with her … even the first time they’d met. She’d wanted to ask Wynne if he had said anything, but the mage was sleeping soundly. So she just … sat, watching the trees and murmuring to her mabari. “I didn’t realize I’d gotten so used to talking to him, Jaz. I … I already miss him. What am I going to do if he just … stops? If this is how it’s going to be from now on?”
“My lady?”
A quiet voice from behind her somewhere tried to interrupt her thoughts. Sure she was imagining things, she didn’t bother turning around. It was just her mind playing tricks on her … sounding like him after he’d gone to bed with hardly a word. It was just wishful thinking that he’d be there.
“Regan?”
There it was again. His voice, louder this time … more like him. Could it really be him? Was it possible that she wasn’t hearing things? But she couldn’t make herself turn around. It was still too likely that she was simply imagining his voice because she wanted to hear it. And when she turned around and found him not there, it would hurt worse than if she just … didn’t. Her shoulders shook with the faintest of sniffles, but she kept her eyes on the trees in front of her.
“I … I’m sorry I was such an ass.” Why wouldn’t she look at him? Maker, was she that furious with him? Alistair supposed he couldn’t blame her, really; his behavior when she’d returned to camp and after had been awful. He’d barely said a word to her all through dinner, moving to put distance between them if she tried to sit nearby, and only sort of grunted a response when she’d bid him good evening before turning in and again when she came out to relieve him. Void, he hadn’t even been able to bring himself to look at her during dinner, though the elf certainly had. He’d been painfully aware of how she answered Zevran’s questions with enthusiasm. “I … I’m an idiot. Can I … can we talk?”
Wait … he wanted to talk to her again? Was he really there? Did this mean he didn’t hate her? Regan swallowed a last whimper and slowly turned, hoping she didn’t look too much like she’d been crying. “Alistair?” He was really there, wasn’t he? He was really standing in front of her, shuffling from one foot to the other while his fingers fidgeted with his tunic’s lacing. He looked … worried. “I … sure, we can talk … if you want?”
His heart near broke when he saw her face. Even in the shadows, he could tell there had been tears involved. Maker, he was such a fool. He’d been so concerned about processing what he’d accidentally seen that he hadn’t given a thought to how his behavior might seem to her, especially if she didn’t know he’d been there. He’d moved quick enough, he hoped, that maybe she hadn’t noticed him. “Please forgive me? I … I was a fool; an idiot and a fool tonight.”
“What did I do?” She missed the part where he called himself an idiot, lost in her own head. Regan had tried all night to figure out what she could have possibly done to make him change how he behaved around her so quickly. And she’d come up with nothing. “What did I do that made you … that drove you …?”
What did she do? Maker’s breath, what was she talking about? She hadn’t done anything. It had all been him and his own stupidity. “What did you …?” He dropped to his knees. One hand reached out for her, the other worried at the hem of his tunic. “Oh, no … no, no, no. You didn’t do anything. This was all me and my foolish self.” He brushed fingers across the back of her hand, biting back a sigh of relief when she flipped it over to give them a squeeze. “I just … I didn’t mean to look ….”
Didn’t mean to look? Didn’t mean to look where? When? What was he going on about? “Didn’t mean to look … where?” She couldn’t figure out what he was so … off … about. When his fingers touched her skin, she could feel them shaking until she took hold of them, and even after there was this … vibration coursing through them. “Alistair … what’s wrong?
Alistair closed his eyes and fought the urge to hide, again. It had done nothing but make things worse. She was still here … holding his hand. She was speaking to him, looking at him … waiting for an answer. And he owed her one, didn’t he? “I … I was … Wynne asked me to bring you your clothes ….” He started and stopped a few times, trying to get his brain and mouth on the same page. It wasn’t until her other hand brushed against his cheek that he could make his words work at all. “I didn’t mean to look when you were in the water. I just … Wynne had said you took Zevran, and I was worried about you, so when you weren’t on the shore with him, I looked for you. I just didn’t think you’d be bathing and I didn’t mean to stare and I … I’m so sorry I acted poorly after.”
It took her a minute to realize what he was talking about. When she did, her face instantly went red. But as embarrassed as she was, a small part of her wanted to ask his opinion. She had no doubt their … prisoner – was he really a prisoner? She had no doubt he would tell her in a heartbeat, probably would have as it was happening, had he been able to see. But Alistair … Maker’s ass, could she just go hide under a rock now?
He was too distracted … too focused on his own apology and embarrassment that he didn’t notice her face going red. “I guess … I just didn’t know what to say after that. I mean, every time I looked at you, I just … saw that, and I … I ….” He’d known almost immediately that it had been the wrong decision, but he hadn’t known what else to do. That was why he’d asked Leliana for her help. Her instructions to simply ‘be himself’ was what got him into that mess. Maybe Wynne would have better advice … or maybe he should ask Teagan. Wasn’t that the sort of thing uncles were supposed to be good for? “Anyway, I … I’m sorry. And I’ll understand if … if you don’t ….”
Well, at least she knew why he’d been acting so strangely, and it wasn’t her fault. Well, it wasn’t entirely her fault, anyway. She should have remembered her things, or woken Alistair up to have him watch Zevran instead of trusting just Jasper and some simple ropes. “Alistair, I … I’m not mad at you, Alistair. I thought you were angry with me.” The feel of his skin beneath her fingers, his stubble lightly scratching against her skin sent shivers down her spine … the good kind. “I really should apologize as well … for all but dropping you back in the tower. I just … I don’t even really know why I did. I just … felt this jolt and was surprised and I just … let go.” She didn’t mention the fact that she had flashes of his hands on her in far more intimate places.
Alistair finally looked at her; he still missed the furiously pink cheeks, but he did look at her. He saw her lip pinned between her teeth and those bright green eyes, red-rimmed and moist, watching him. He felt his heart thrum in his chest as words started to just … fall from his lips. Wait, what was he saying? “Should I apologize for thinking you are the most be-….”
Jasper suddenly sprung up, nearly knocking Alistair over, his booming bark effectively cutting off whatever the man had been about to say. The mabari dropped into a crouch, as if ready to lunge at something, teeth bared and menacing growl rumbling in his chest. Regan instinctively reached for her blades, tossing one to the currently weaponless Alistair. He obviously hadn’t expected to come under attack while having a chat. The trio stood ready to fend off whatever was approaching; searching the surrounding darkness for whatever had caught Jasper’s attention.
Wynne and Zevran stumbled out of their tents, the latter rather surprised to discover he’d been left moderately unattended, though still bound.
“What … what is all that commotion? Could you please quiet that mabari before he wakes the next town over?”
Regan’s response was cut off by a rustle in the bushes. Everyone turned, eyes on the spot they’d seen a hint of movement. Tension was high, bodies ready to leap into action when the source of the disturbance struggled through the leaves. A ram had gotten its horns caught in some vines and was busy trying to free itself, not realizing quite how close it had come to doom.
Regan glanced over at Alistair and smiled shyly before turning to face the others. “Well, I’m awake now. I guess we should break camp and head on toward Redcliff?”