Oh Maker. Alistair felt his cheeks turn bright red as he whipped back around to face the not naked woman area. In the brief second before he blinked hard, he caught a flash of skin pale as moonlight with a hint of marks up and down her stomach. Pinching into his nose, he tried to blot out the image. Professional. Be professional.
"There? Is that exposed enough now for you to heal it?" he heard Reiss snipe at the mage, her voice crackling on the edges as she sat half naked before the assembled heads of state. Alistair wished he could toss a blanket to her or something, but in his state he'd have to walk backwards and would probably throw it onto a chandelier where it'd catch on fire.
"Your Majesty," Cade began, trying to wheedle into Alistair's light panic attack.
"Look, your complaints have been recognized and recorded, or they would be if my clerks hadn't run out the door pinwheeling their arms at the first sign of trouble. We keep things as they are. It was just getting into a routine. I don't see any reason to rock the boat once again." Alistair expected more needling from the Commander, he'd been grumping and groaning about Reiss for over a week. It got to the point Alistair was surprised he didn't wake up with a portrait of Brunt and a lock of his hair to convince the King just how perfect of a man he was.
Instead, Cade parted his hands and slid back. "As you say, Sire. It is after all your neck on the line." He scrunched up those meaty lips and smacked them once. "However..."
"Andraste's sword, here it comes," Alistair groaned to himself.
Cade barely dropped his voice down, but he glanced over at the half naked woman with only caginess in his face. "Be careful putting your trust in someone so unknown to us. There are reports of sightings of your bodyguard slipping into the stables at night."
"What? That's..." Alistair wanted to insist it was impossible, but it wasn't as if he was around her constantly. That would make using the privy even more awkward than usual. Forgetting himself, Alistair glanced over his shoulder. She'd slipped her tunic back on and was inspecting the gash to her shirt above the dried blood. What did they truly know about her? What did he? If he couldn't trust Ghaleb then there was no reason he could trust the Spymaster's information either.
"Sire?" Cade prodded again, his non smile glittering in his eyes.
"When at night?" Alistair asked. The elf's gaze darted up to him for a minute, her fingers reaching for the tossed breastplate, before her eyes skipped down to the ground. If she was a liability, he'd get to the bottom of it himself.
***
She was a fool. It was bad enough being berated by the Commander of the royal guards while standing over a dead body once again picked clean of all identification, then having to explain three times that her sword was wedged inside the gate mechanism and that's why they couldn't open it. But suffering that dithering mage's fumbling attempts to heal up her wound made Reiss wish she could climb inside of a bottle and never get out. Way to represent your people, there rat. Why not give the shems even more reasons to dismiss you?
The King said little to her. He inquired a few times if she was of sound health to continue on her feet, which, despite the mage's novice level spell casting, was the case. Reiss had known worse in her time, though she was certain there would be a scar. One more in a long line. After moving through his usual steps of the day, the man seemed colder after the attack. There was no reason to be surprised, he did have his life threatened for a second time. Perhaps he needed to shuffle deeper into himself to keep from lashing out.
Once the princess was put to bed, about the only time the King brightened for the day, he led them back to their shared room and said he intended to turn in for the night, provided no assassins were lurking under his bed. Reiss offered to check with her sword, but he declined and gave her leave. After mending her tunic, the once proud scarlet fading to a dingy red-grey, Reiss headed towards the stables. She patted her hip thrice to make certain the offering was there while twisting down the servants entrance. Despite it leading nearly right to the courtyard that opened back upon the horses, the King never took it. There were probably rules about where royalty should and shouldn't trod. If it's not gilded and carpeted, no noble foot may touch it lest the limb rot away.
Reiss chuckled to herself as she slipped through the heavy night into the barn. Okay, it wasn't really a barn. She knew those all too well, this stank of far more shit than the barn she had to sleep in. Despite the chill, the flies were on point, hissing in anger as they dove in and out of their own heaven from the piles plopping up in the horse's beds. Reiss expected to find the stablehand here, a young man who despite looking human grew up in the Alienage -- the curse of having a single elven parent. He could pass as human but didn't have much of a foundation to prop him up. Normally he'd be whistling under his drawn cap while shoveling the shit into his cart, but no one seemed to be in the closed stables. Due to the rain they probably tugged down the wooden window panes giving the place a strangely ominous feel.
"Pst," Reiss called out. Shadows flickered around the stables, horses whinnying at someone new who might be there for them, but nothing that right shade of grey darted around. "Pst pst," she tried again. "Maker's sake, you better be here!"
Slapping her hand against her thigh, Reiss peered under a few of the stable beds, but found only horse legs. "Are you in the loft?" she tried again, her finger trailing along the ceiling as she hunted for the tuft of grey. "Sylaise, come out, come out wherever you are."
Through a door past the stables rested the kennels. Reiss did her best to keep the damn cat from sneaking through it, offering up many good reasons why cats shouldn't have anything to do with dogs, but like all cats she completely ignored her. Left open a crack, Reiss pushed upon the door and cried out, "Sylaise?"
A few of the mabari opened their eyes, most down for the night. They weren't impressed with the elf skulking in their kennels but didn't think it was worth getting up for. "Maker's sake, you better not be hiding in here you stupid..." Reiss' trail of thought died off as she stepped towards the last partition. She could have sworn she caught the swish of a grey tail slipping in through the bars. "Sylaise, you're going to get ripped apart! Get out here." Reiss dropped to a knee into the scattered straw and tried to reach in for the cat when a dozen mabari stood up at attention and began to bark like mad.
Her first instinct was to reach for her sword, the elf whipping her head to the door behind her where a shadow stood. It seemed to have roused the dogs into a frenzy, each of them stomping their feet into the ground as they hopped back and forth. "Maker damn it all," the shadow cursed before turning up a lantern in his hand.
"Your Majesty?" Reiss stuttered. She yanked her hand away from her hip and tried to rise to her feet.
"Damn dogs, yes, fine, it's me. Look at that. Will you shut up? Okay, one pet," he reached through the bars to rub his hand on the mabari with a tan coat before placing down the lantern and going full in for petting the rest.
"Sire, er, Ser?" Reiss froze at the end of the kennel, "What are you doing here?"
He paused in his petting and turned a cold eye on her, "Funny, I was about to ask you the same."
"I..." There was no chance she could lie her way out of it. Throwing down her shoulders, Reiss gestured him closer. The King froze a moment, his eyes casting down over her hip where the sword rested in its sheathe. "Forgive me, I don't know if I'm allowed, but I..." He slid nearer as she dropped to her knees and reached through the bars for that damn cat. Sylaise rolled out of the straw and batted without claws at her hand before stretching high and sliding out. "I brought a cat with me to the palace."
Reiss scooped Sylaise up into her arms and she began to climb her way up the elf's shoulders. The King paused, his jaw hanging slack as he watched. "You...you have a kitty?" Even with his eyes on Reiss as if expecting her to transform into a demon, he absently reached out to scratch along Sylaise's head.
"I was feeding her at my old guardhouse, she's a stray, and when I went back she sort of stowed away in my things. I di
dn't want to be any trouble and thought maybe another mouser wouldn't be a problem on the grounds," Reiss admitted, her fingers fluffing up Sylaise's tail.
Those haunting yellow eyes beamed upon the human in their midst, seeming to size him up. "Sweet Maker, it's a cat. You're feeding a cat," he laughed once and threw his hand up.
"Forgive me for..."
"No, no," the King spoke over her and with both hands scooped Sylaise up to him. She meowed uncertainly before the man tucked her close the same way he would his infant son. "Hello kitty cat. Er, she probably has a name."
"I call her Sylaise," Reiss smiled, scritching along her back.
"Sylaise," Alistair grinned, "why does that sound familiar?"
"It's a uh," Reiss pivoted back and forth on her feet before answering, "An elven goddess." She expected the human to frown, but he chuckled and lifted Sylaise up high in his arms.
"Well, if anyone's going to act like a goddess it's a fat ol' alley cat." Sylaise took offense to this and in true catlike fashion twisted around in his arms to leap free land flush on the kennel. She began to mewl, her eyes fully on Reiss.
"Right, sorry," she fished out some of the crumbs from the meat pie for dinner and held them out for Sylaise. A single white paw landed on Reiss' palm while the cat chewed thoughtfully upon the morsels.
The two of them watched silently until the cat finished eating, then as she stretched her back up against the underside of an eave. Tired of the audience, Sylaise leaped down off the partition to land back into the kennel Reiss pulled her from. "I wish I could move like that," she mused to herself.
"From what I saw today you can," Alistair responded.
A burn inched along her cheeks, both from shame and...something else Reiss was doing her best to ignore. "Sire, when I abandoned you..."
"You were doing your job," he interrupted.
"No, I wasn't, which is the problem. I should have left it to the guards. I reacted instead of acted and it could have done untold damage. I understand if you do not wish to employ my services any longer."
She shored up her voice but kept her focus on Sylaise who was batting her paw at the slumbering lump in the kennel. Reiss feared that if she glanced over at the King she might break down into hysterics, pain and exhaustion in equal parts rubbing her soul raw.
His hand landed upon her shoulder and he smiled, "I have no intentions of firing you. Oh, I didn't touch your wound, did I?" he suddenly panicked, yanking his hand away as if her arm burned.
"No, you did not. It is lower and...not important," Reiss felt a smile stir in her stomach but she kept it off her lips.
"So," he sighed ruffling up his hair, "you're probably wondering what I'm doing skulking around in the kennels."
Reiss shrugged a shoulder, "Others must have spotted me visiting with Sylaise and rather than inquire of me or the stablehand, they assumed it was some clandestine meeting with spies and informed you." She glanced over at the King to find his mouth hanging slack jawed.
"How in...you figured all that out in like," he snapped his fingers unable to shake the awe from his face.
"I am an unknown," Reiss stated. She'd been expecting something of it for awhile, in particular after this second attempt. Slowly a smile lifted up her lips and she laughed at the ground, "which is why you selected me to be your bodyguard in the first place."
"That, uh..."
"An unknown chosen without any predetermination means the chances of slipping a spy in undetected is almost impossible. Clever."
Alistair scoffed at her, "You are probably the first person in all of thedas to ever call me clever."
Turning to face him, Reiss' eyes danced around his sunny face. It hid away his anger and pain, trying to coat any major slight in a patina of sugared jam but she saw its existence that first night. "Perhaps people aren't looking closely enough."
"I...um," he gasped, both hands digging through his hair, "am feeling particularly unclever right now. Forgive me for suspecting you." He dangled his hand before hers.
She accepted it, but answered, "You were within your rights given all that's happened."
"Maybe, but I don't want to become the crazy king that leaps at every shadow and can't put his trust in anyone. I'm not a fan of slippers, can barely grow a beard, and my hygiene is eh."
There was that damn earnest charm again ensnaring her faster than she could deflect it. Reiss kept pumping their hands up and down, a smile rising up her cheeks as she glanced in on her cat. Sylaise was kneading against the mabari's snout who finally lifted up his head. He leaned closer to the cat, and in a quick huff, splattered snot across the grey fur. Sylaise mewled at the slight and in response the mabari's tongue rolled out. He didn't attack the cat, didn't snap his fangs nor growl, only lapped up the snot he peppered the cat in and then shuffled back to sleep. This time, the mabari left two paws extended so Sylaise could snuggle up beside him.
"I feared that the dogs would scare her or worse, but..." Reiss sighed, "they shouldn't get on so well."
The King tipped his head as he watched the grey cat folding against the rumbling of the white mabari, both of them lulling back to the comfort of sleep, "It's funny how things in thedas are bad at doing what they're supposed to."
"I..." Reiss' eyes met his for a heartbeat, and then two more. She yearned to say something to him, but had no idea what. Patting her fingers together like blocks, Reiss sighed, "I should return to my room."
Alistair nodded at her as she moved to slip out of the kennels. Out of the corner of her eye she watched him bend over the partition to run his fingers across the slumbering pets. Reiss stepped out into the night, the cloying scent of wet grass and horse shit clinging to the crisp air. "So," he called behind her, "I was thinking I might take you up on your offer to check under the bed for assassins. You know, because you never know." He shrugged his shoulders in that charming impotence before bouncing back on his heels.
Barely suppressing a chuckle at the idea, Reiss said, "It would be my honor, Ser."
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
A Nap
Screaming and smoke filled the forest air, one of those crimson feathered birds struggling to rise away from the battle. Red templar or perhaps mage fire struck it; it was impossible to tell in the chaos. Reiss yanked up on her tunic below the Inquisition armor, trying to cover her mouth against the toxic ash flittering down from the sky. The others fighting in the stream barely gave it pause, pain crying out through the wilds. Blood streaked across the ground, Reiss struggling to keep upright as she pursued an injured templar. It wasn't one of the human looking ones, this person had been transformed beyond anything approachable. The entire face was cracked and glowing like demonic glass, red shards erupting off the back. Or had been until Reiss hacked away at them, spending nearly all her energy to take it down and still it continued onward. How did the Inquisitor and his company make it look so easy?
Her prey limped down a hill, and Reiss felt herself slipping to a knee. Splashing into the creek, she was surprised by how warm the water ran, soaking into the cracks of her armor. The stream glittered scarlet, as if the land itself bled from the pain they were inflicting. Shaking her head and looking anew, Reiss could see only the murky depths of what had once been a crystal stream. After splashing herself in the face, she rose and summoned the last of her energy to pursue the templar.
At the bottom of the hill he roared back, his arms extended wide to try and pick off... "Ethan, no!" Reiss' mind cried out at the solider bracing himself behind his shield. Without thinking, Reiss leaped down the hill, her oversized boots scrabbling to find purchase in the shifted terrain as she aimed for the red templar. It was drawing back its arm, pounding red fire across Ethan's shield while the man had no opportunities to respond. Growling, Reiss swung her body forward and barreled fully into the walking crystal. Jagged edges punctured her skin, slicing sharper than any blade could across her face and hands, but Reiss ignored the blood dripping down her arms.
While the red templar scra
bbled to find footing, Reiss pinned herself on top of it and drove her blade through its throat. It didn't go in instantly, and she had to work it back and forth slowly sawing the templar's head clean off. When it penetrated the neck, blood gushed out from her hole dissolving through the crystal armor. Slowly the lights in the templar's eyes drained away.
She nearly plummeted face first onto the creature in exhaustion, but a hand grabbed onto her shoulder. Rising up she first caught the look on Ethan's face. It wasn't pride at her accomplishment or even gratefulness in his face, but a calculating pout causing the acid in her stomach to boil. She yearned to leap up, to berate him, to shout all the things she'd kept bottled up for years, but the hand turned her around. An elf gripped her, an older one with black hair and startling green eyes.
"That was a near thing," she spoke in an Orlesian accent before shifting her staff to the other side and offering a hand to Reiss.
"I got lucky," Reiss answered, staggering to her feet.
"Perhaps, but it takes courage to even try," the older woman smiled.
Reiss began to slide away from the mage back to her people when a scream shattered the sky. That wasn't a poetic turn of phrase, it literally broke apart the bright blue of the forest, a shadow blotting out the sun as the power of the roar smashed hardened Inquisition soldiers to their knees. No, no, no... The archdemon, just like the one in Ferelden all those years ago, flailed its wings above the sky and dipped down through the trees.
Fire dribbled from its mouth, a deadly purple erupting through the trees while new screaming - the kind mortal and familiar - followed in its wake. The mage waved her hands, and the air tasted like iron to Reiss. Her arms felt lighter while a strange red sheen drifted across the side of her vision.
Love's Blush Page 20
