Guarded Love (COMPLETED)

Damn

On the whole, things were going well. Alistair's metric for well was that no one had threatened to flay someone alive and stretch their entrails through the trees like party decorations. That low of a bar was the only one they'd managed to cross. The dalish town or whatever they kept calling it because, as they kept insisting, the lone wanderers didn't build cities was achingly quaint. With bright pops of the primary colors dashed across eaves bearing nothing but curves and gentle slopes it was the kind of place that made one expect to find white haired grannies selling their homemade quilts on every corner.

Instead, about two dozen hardened Dalish warriors watched the human caravans with wary eyes, their arms all crossed tight enough to let a hand drift down to a hilt. But, behind the razor sharp edge, lurked the bits that made a place a home. Children rampaged often from one fire to another, the smaller ones begging the bigger ones to slow up and let them have a go at using a bow. He'd often drift off from another argument courtesy of a Bann insisting the place was fetid and must be condemned to smile at the kids playing a rousing game of "halla." Alistair wasn't certain what the rules there were, if any, but it'd remind him of the hazy afternoons when Spud would shake off her minders, drop to her knees and become their pet mabari Sprinkle Toes. He had to play the cat Sprinkle Toes was always chasing, of course.

Maker he missed that squirt. It'd only been a week and all he wanted to do was pull up stakes and head right back to her. Every night he wrote a little letter about the day's excitement even though Spud couldn't read and there'd be no one to deliver it before their return. It gave him something to do and also created the illusion the King was working extra hard.

When he wasn't missing his kids, or accidentally paying a bit of attention to the continuing arguments, he'd glance over at the woman at his side and do his damnedest to not sigh. Everyone kept the two of them continually occupied. If not crowds swarming the King, once they arrived in the hamlet the Dalish took it upon themselves to specially welcome the elf in his employ. He wasn't certain what all was involved but after an hour's disappearance she returned with berries and twigs in her hair, her boots sloshing, and a growl on her face. After that minor hazing, the local elves folded Reiss into their groups, often speaking elvhen to her while glaring over at the shemlan trying to not lose a pint of blood to the insects. How'd he forget about those from the first time in the Kokari Wilds?

There'd been barely any chances for him to even get close or whisper a question in her ear all while he kept drifting off watching the curve of her guarded smile -- the armor slipping off courtesy of her people. When she grew exhausted from either a day of tramping back and forth across swampy waters, or dealing with swampy politicians, a crinkle formed in the bow of her upper lip. Alistair came to look for it, and in turn found himself aching to skirt his finger across it, to kiss her full on once again. Maybe try with his tongue. He still had the hang of it after all these years warming the bench.

Maker but she was beautiful.

It struck him worst of all when the Keeper, her squad, the Bann and his posse all trekked up to the Dalish's hard fought dam. Water pounded against the rocks, the elven created lake full to bursting from rains that never seemed to stop, while down below the little hamlet waited serenely. It was a source of contention because the Banns thought the Dalish had no right to take a claim upon water that would wind towards theirs, while the Dalish argued uncontrolled flooding would wipe out their village. After three days or bickering over the proper shade of red to paint a barn, this was an easy one to give to the elves.

Proud of her accomplishment in building the first ever Dalish dam since ye olden times, the Keeper moved a few levers and pulleys to open up a lock and send a stream of water bursting over the edge. It shot out like a toddler fleeing bath time, tumbling down the rocky slope and sliding over a controlled river right to the Dalish's doorstep. A rather pretty marvel, the King was about to comment when he turned to Reiss and his breath rolled up into a knot.