Dragon Age Campfire Tales

Family

Camp was quiet tonight as everyone was lost in their own thoughts. The last few days had been nothing but exhausting for everyone in different ways. The group had just finished helping to stop a war between a Clan of Dalish Elves and a group of Werewolves.  The weary group had set up camp just near the edge of the Brecillian forest, intending to get as much rest as possible before setting off again the next day. 

Sitting on a log near the camp perimeter fiddling with a stick, Alistair looked around at his travelling companions.  

Morrigan had retreated to her own campfire and was sorting through potions whilst Shale stood a few paces away from her as though guarding her from some potential danger.  Sten was walking the perimeter,  making sure that the camp was secure. Near the campfire sat Wynne and Leliana, sorting through various potions and herbs, checking supplies.  Oghren was sat close by, drinking ale from his flask, which he carried on his belt. Zevran was sat opposite the Dwarf, sharpening his daggers with the Mabari Falon lying sleeping at his feet. Just inside the boundaries of the camp the two Dwarven merchants that had taken to travelling with them were sleeping within their tent. 

The only person missing from the group Alistair noted, was Lyna, his fellow Grey Warden.  She had decided to stay at the Dalish camp for a little longer. In a way Alistair envied her a little. She got to be with her people, even if only for a little while. It may not be her Clan but it was still her people.  

Up until he joined the Grey Warden's he hadn't felt at home anywhere. The Wardens had made him feel welcome and helped to train him. In the six months he had spent with them he had finally felt like he belonged. Like he had a family.

As the young ex Templar looked around he realised he felt a similar feeling towards this ragtag band. In a strange way they had become, even if reluctantly, a family. Alistair realised with sudden clarity that he would willingly protect every member of their group. Over the last nine months their small group had been steadily growing in number and shared experiences. Each member had been growing closer and learning more about each other.  If he really thought about it Alistair realised that Lyna was the catalyst that brought them all together. She had a way with people that he had never seen before. She was open and honest with her opinions and emotions in such a way that people were drawn to her. It was one of the reasons that he loved her so much. 

Glancing back to the forest he could only hope that she was alright.

xoxoxoxo

Lyna made her way back to the camp that her ragtag group of travelling companions had made at the edge of the forest. The last few days had been difficult for everyone involved. The Dalish Clan were mourning the many lives lost to the Werewolves as well as Keeper Zathrien's death, as well as welcoming back members of their clan who had been turned into Werewolves. The now Human Werewolves were adjusting to their new lives as they left the forest. Lyna herself was exhausted as she was the only one who both the Elves and Humans would trust. 

When she had left her Clan with Duncan Lyna had not expected to be trying to build an army whilst solving problems she couldn't even dream of. She had only really known life within her Clan with only few interactions with Humans or Dwarves.  Now she was travelling all over Ferelden helping as many people as possible whilst asking for their help to stop the Blight.

As she slowly made her way through the forest, feeling the dampening grass brush through her toes thanks to her foot wraps, she couldn't help but feel relaxed. In the last nine months she hadn't had the chance to walk through the forest and enjoy nature. Spending time with this Clan had felt nice and they had welcomed her as one of their own. Even so, she felt out of place. She had seen some of the confused, disgusted and judging looks that the rest of her group had received from the Clan. No longer was Lyna the innocent nieve young Elven girl she had been when she left the Sabrae Clan.  She had grown and learnt so much about the world and the people who lived in it that she could never really fit back in with her Clan, as much as she might wish to. Her opinion on the other races had changed and she no longer judged a person on their race, but on the individual themself. 

As she walked Lynas thoughts turned to those she travelled with.  Though their group had started off small and untrusting they had grown in both number and closeness. As strange a group as they were Lyna found that she felt a kinship with them all, that she felt as though she was safe with them. She knew that they would all look out for each other despite their many differences. Though she hadn't had the opportunity to spend time with the Grey Warden's before the battle at Ostagar she didn't feel alone. Alistair kept the Warden's alive in the stories he told about his time with them. He always seemed to know how to cheer her up when she was sad or worried.  Oghren had told many a drunken tale of life in Orzammar whilst Zevran would regale them all with tales of Antiva. Leliana would sing songs or tell stories of Orlais. Both Wynne and Morrigan would replenish their salves and potions whilst bickering over the different schools of magic. Sten and Shale would often patrol the perimeter, Sten stoically with Shale cursing whatever feathers creature was nearby or lamenting the lack of squishy things to pulverised. Falon would occasionally join them though seemed to prefer curling up next to the fire. Lyna would often find herself flitting around the group, making time to talk to everyone and often found herself learning something new.  

Whenever they set up camp they all, without spoken agreement,  set to their own tasks and camp would be set up efficiently.  Each person would take a turn at cooking though most times it was either Wynne, Leliana or herself. Zevran would put too much spice in, Sten's cooking was incredibly bland and no matter what Alistair cooked it seemed to come out looking and tasting the same. Morrigan often cooked for herself though did join them on occasions,  mostly when Lyna ws cooking. Oghren tended to either burn what he was making or added a lot of ale to it and Shale didn't eat so saw no reason to learn.

Her thoughts on her travelling companions Lyna came to realise that she thought of them as her new Clan, her family. Even Bodahn and Sandal felt a part of it,  as much as they kept to themselves. Bodahn would always have some wisdom to share and though he didn't say much, Sandal had a big caring heart.

As she approached the campsite she looked around at everyone she had come to care so deeply for knowing that when the battle against the Blight was over she would miss them all. Everyone was so engrossed in what their activities that most did not see her return. Only Sten saw her approach and nodded in greeting. Spotting Alistair sitting on a log nearby she headed towards him, knowing he would have sensed her return. 

The ex Templar was sharpening his sword, brow furrowed as though deep in thought. 

"Hi!" she said softly as she lowered herself onto the log beside him.

"Oh, I......... ummmm,hello!" Was the somewhat distracted stumbled response. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence he ventured, "How's the Clan?"

"They are shakenand in mourning but they will endure." Lyna replied with certainty.  "It will be a long road but they will be stronger for it". 

"Yes, I suppose they will. They won't be the same though". 

"No, they won't.  Though none of us are the same as we were. I am not the same as I was before I met Duncan. We change and we grow with each decision we make and with each person we meet." Carefully Lyna moved her hand and placed it on Alistairs now still hand that was holding the whetstone. 

The young couple sat quietly for a while, watching the others in the camp settling into their tents for the night, aside from Shale who would stand guard and Falon who remained by the fire which Zevran had put another couple of logs on before turning in.

"We should rest, we have a long journey ahead of us tomorrow. " Lyna said softly standing and gently tugging Alistair along with her as she moved to her tent.

A small flush crept it's way up Alistairs face as a soft chuckle escaped his lips. "Of course, we really should rest." He said as he stepped close behind her, lowering his head slightly so that his breath skimmed lightly over the very sensitive points of her ears, sending a shiver through the shorter Elven woman, a matching flush appearing on her own face.

Both Warden's picked up their pace to the tent.