Fic - A Child Unexpected (Interlude the Last)
Title: A Child Unexpected (Part 8 of 12)
Author: skybound2
Word Count: ~2600 this chapter (~25900 so far)
Characters: Fem!City-Elf PC (Kallian Tabris), Sten, Zevran, Alistair, and Morrigan (the overall fic is Zevran/Tabris with Sten and some others tossed in. Liberally, at times. References Alistair/Tabris, Alistair/Anora, and Zevran/Other.)
Rating: T
Summary: Kallian Tabris decides to leave Ferelden for Seheron with Sten, but a night spent with Zevran prior to the fall of the Archdemon has a lasting impact. In this bit: A small interlude between our Warden and favorite witch.
Spoilers: Through end game.
Author's Note: Another "Interlude" which will hopefully give some more depth to Tabris, as well as some insight to Morrigan. Next time, we shall return to the regularly scheduled plot! Many, many thanks to pennydreadful for the beta!!! Also, I wish to thank everyone who is following this story once again. You rock! This story can also be found at FFN.
Previously: (On LJ)
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Interlude (the First)
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Interlude (the Last)
The Bannorn: Dawn before the Fall of the Archdemon
Kallian awakened, limbs tangled together with Zevran's; her pale skin blending with his skin-kissed hues. She ached: a crick in her neck from sleeping lopsided against his arm; little fiery blemishes peppering her flesh where bugs had taken to nibbling during the night; and a warm throb between her thighs.
As the last threads of sleep washed away from her, her body was filled with a new tension - memories of nightmarish dreams suddenly too real. For a moment, she fancied that she could smell fire and brimstone; and her heart paused in her chest in fear. It was only a twist of her imagination, however, and soon the muscle began to pump fiercely again. In reality the air was moist with fog, thick with morning dew, and the twittering of a dove echoing from the tree above them.
Zevran appeared innocent in repose. His features softened, hair tangled up in a golden halo about his head. With slow eyes, she traced the curving mahogany tattoos that cover the expanse of his body in swirling patterns; down his chest, over his abdomen, and wrapped around his thigh. They led her back: up, up, up to his sleeping face once more. His eyes darting back and forth behind closed lids, a tiny smile touching the corners of his sinful mouth. Part of her longed to cup his cheek, to brush the pad of her thumb against his lower lip, but she's conscientious enough to realize that this was likely their (all of theirs) final day. The least she could do was allow him to sleep until the sun had fully risen.
Carefully, she extricated herself from him, and slipped into her clothing (a feat not easily accomplished, as at least one article of clothing had ended up hanging from a tree-branch overhead). Once done, she wasted little time making her way to the watering hole situated on the other side of camp. A quick bath, a bit of three-day-old bread, and that tonic that Wynne was ever-so-fond of producing sounds indulgent and precisely like what she needs.
Watching each footfall as carefully as she could, she made her way through the still sleeping camp with little issue (a brief nod to the two guards still on duty not-withstanding). The sight that greeted her at the water's edge was not entirely surprising, but it did change her plans a bit.
Morrigan was situated along the bank, one foot dangling down into the water, and the other drawn up to her chest. Her chin propped against her knee, and long arms wrapped around the limb. Kallian paused, spying, while the other woman drug a foot slowly back and forth in the stream, a far-away look upon her face. Kallian's stomach clenched at the sight, worry eating at her.
Morrigan had been quiet since they'd left Redcliffe. Not to say that she was ever overly-talkative; but most of their travels included at least some commentary from the witch. Whether it was a bit of (somewhat) well-meaning debate with Wynne (alright, more often than not these debates ended with a huff on one end and a growl on the other, but they rarely ended in lightning storms or earthquakes, so Kallian marked that off in the 'success' column), desperately trying to avoid fashion advice from Leliana (while simultaneously trying to pilfer useful tidbits regarding make-up and hairstyles - Morrigan's sneaking skills apparently didn't extend to such topics), or exchanging scathing banter with Alistair (this was a nearly-non-stop source of amusement/annoyance for the entire party) Morrigan's voice could often be heard.
This had not been the case during the final march, and it bothered Kallian.
While the Warden and the Witch had never truly bonded, neither had they ever really argued. For certain, they had their occasional disagreement (and Kallian could not possibly recall the number of times the words 'stop baiting Alistair' had crossed her lips) but these were were easily balanced by how often they agreed.
Which happened more regularly than either would have suspected.
Despite all of that, their budding friendship had never fully gotten off the ground. Since she was a child, Kallian had always felt more at ease around men, than woman. Her mother had died young, and her most constant playmate had been found in her cousin Soris. Her other cousin, Shianni, came to the Alienage from Highever a bit later, and, while Kallian loved her dearly, the two had decidedly different ideas as to what constituted 'fun'. Eventually the two had grown quite close; even closer than her and Soris. But it had taken years.
Morrigan and Kallian simply hadn't had that much time together. In Sten, Kallian had found a kindred spirit. In Alistair, a fast love. And, in Zevran, a true confidant. There simply hadn't been room for the witch.
It was always the Warden and her boys.
Even so, she did have some affection for the other woman. It was plain to any that bothered to look that Morrigan was exceedingly sheltered, despite her abrasive nature and immense magical talent. Kallian, for all the time she'd spent behind the walls of the Alienage, had infinitely more experience when it came to personal relationships. And witnessing Morrigan deliberately withdrawing from the group over the course of the March set the Warden's teeth on edge. Something would simply have to be done before they were drawn into the final battle. There was too much at stake, and she needed everyone at their best.
“'Tis impolite to stare, Warden.” Morrigan did not so much as lift her head as he spoke.
Heat spread through Kallian's cheeks, but she soldiered on, moving forward with careful controlled steps until she was only a few paces from the other woman. She pulled her shoes from her feet, and folded her body down on the ground beside the witch in a mirroring position. “I didn't want to disturb.”
“And yet, here you are.”
“Quite.”
The silence stretched on, a smattering of starlings scattered through the trees on the other side of the water, their song echoing across the distance.
“I assume that you did not merely come down here to sit in silence with me.”
“No. I actually came down here to bathe.”
“Ahh,” and now she did turn chasind yellow eyes upon Kallian, some of their typical luster absent. “If you wish for privacy, you need only ask. 'Twould certainly be the quicker option then waiting and hoping I will simply depart on my own.”
“The bath can wait. I wanted to talk with you, actually.”
Steel and stone stole across the other woman's features, hardening her abruptly. “What of?”
Kallian sucked in a moist breathe, and allowed her gaze to return to the fog rolling in waves over the slow-moving water in front of them. “I wanted to thank you.”
Shock registered on Morrigan's face, and Kallian felt oddly grateful that she was able to catch the woman off guard. “I- thank me? For what?”
“For staying with us. For not deserting like you could. For providing us more of a guarantee that the blight will end, here and now, then anyone else could have done.” Kallian angled her head towards the witch, and hoped that her sincerity could show through. “For saving Alistair...and me. Thank you.”
A confused laugh, dressed up in cold tones was her response. “'Tis an unexpected response considering... You had not seemed quite so accepting at the time after all.”
Kallian bobbed her head in acquiescence. “I am not a fool, Morrigan. A bit over my head at times, perhaps, and certainly baffled at all we've managed to accomplish. But I am no fool.”
“I - no. I don't suppose you are.” Something like a smile graced Morrigan's face, it lightened her features up remarkably.
“We couldn't have accomplished half of what we have if we hadn't all stuck together. Any one of you could have chosen to run off, or to challenge my authority - and you would have been right to - especially at the beginning, when I was a leader by default then.” She flashed jesting eyes at the other woman. “A babe with barely any blood on her sword.”
“Truly? I seem to recall a tale that depicted your conscription as a bloody one.”
A vice gripped Kallian's heart at the reminder, but it loosened nearly as quickly. Her voice, however, retained the chilled air that surrounded the memory. “That was a lifetime ago now it seems. I... recall it. In extensive detail. But it almost seems as like it happened to someone else.”
A bird that had landed upon a rock several feet away, a wriggling worm in its mouth, caught Kallian's attention. “The choices I made back then, they were not my own. None of them. Not the choice to be married, nor the choice to murder the raping bastard that stood between my cousin and I.”
The worm dropped to the stone, only to be snatched up by the predatory bird a moment later, and scarfed down in two choking gulps. “That was life. That was survival. There was nothing grand or special or avoidable about any of it.”
The bird turned; beady little black eyes in a red and gray stripped face, and cocked its head towards the pair of humans in front of it. A long second drew by, before it opened its beak and released a delightful little song into the air. “But the choices I have made since then...for better or for worse...they have been my own.”
The bird spread its wings, and lifted itself into flight, is song trailing behind it. Kallian titled her head back to Morrigan, to find she had the other woman's rapt attention. “That is the blood that stains my blade. There is a...discernible difference.”
She sighed, and turned from Morrigan's unwavering gaze. Soon, her legs began to cramp, and she stretched them out before her, a relieved grunt escaping her at the change in position. “What will you do, once this is all over?”
The air bristled with the return of tension in the witch. “I will leave. As previously discussed.”
A laugh, light and with a small amount of humor rent the air. “Of that, I am certain. But - and forgive me, I am not trying to pry. I am merely...curious. Do you intend to settle somewhere?” Kallian raised a hand to prevent the outburst brewing on Morrigan's lips from erupting, “Or to continue to travel? It will be high in summer when you give birth. I can't imagine that it would be comfortable to be heavy with child, and traveling, in that heat.”
Morrigan gave a wary look, obviously not trusting the line of questioning. “I imagine any traveling I am doing will need to end long enough to have the child. Yes.”
Kallian nodded, and turned back to the water. “I intend to keep my promise you know. I will not go looking for you...and, while I can not speak for Alistair, I imagine he will let you be as well.”
"'Twould be a fruitless search, you would not find me unless I wished to be found."
“And would you?”
“Would I what?”
“Wish to be found? I know that we have not always been the closest of friends. But we are - friends, I mean.” Pale eyes settled upon yellow. “I can't imagine that raising a child alone would be easy.”
The stiffening of Morrigan's shoulders was the only sign that the line of conversation was getting to her. “If you are trying to ply me for more information, in the hopes that I will spill some dark secret regarding the child, it 'twill not work.”
“I am not.”
This time, it was a sarcastically arched eyebrow (Kallian idly wondered how eyebrows could express emotion). “Then you are hoping that I will falter under your caring and kind words, and allow you the chance to know your love's bastard babe.”
A muscle in Kallian's jaw twitched, and her fists clenched in the dirt by her sides. “No. I do not.” She relaxed her breathing, calming her body's reactions. “This has nothing - okay, this has little - to do with Alistair. I am asking about you, Morrigan. And yes, the child is at the forefront of my thoughts. I believe that we both agreed earlier that I am not a fool?” She did not wait for a rebuttal, but pressed on. “If you think for a single moment that I believe that you laid with Alistair in a ritual intended to breed a old god in human form simply so that you could have a go at being a mother, you are truly mistaken.”
“Wha-”
A sharp nod from Kallian cut the witch off. “I know that there is more to it than that. There has to be. But, I do not care. Not really. I trust you, Morrigan. And perhaps that is folly on my part, but there it is, all the same. And I do not believe that anything you intend to do with this child could be worse than what we are dealing with now. Generation after generation of Wardens have succeeded in slaying one Archdemon after another, after all. And still, more rise. If there is any way to put an end to that...”
She paused to both allow her words to settle into Morrigan's mind, as well as to organize the rest of her thoughts, which were tumbling fast and tangled through her head; the morning's nightmare fresh in her memory. “The Archdemon's they - they ache, Morrigan. Their songs are bitter, twisted things. There is no beauty to be found there. And yes, I have a hard time imagining you being a party to anything of the sort.”
Morrigan blinked, and shifted her eyes away. “You...trust me?”
“I do.”
Morrigan nodded, and stood, slender hands reaching back to brush dirt and debris from her robes. “The merry little band of misfits you have acquired would deem you a fool for doing so.” Her stance shifted towards the camp, but she did not move. “And there would be little evidence I could use to refute them.”
“And what of you? Have you changed your mind as well? Would you so readily call me a fool?”
For a short time, Kallian though that she was wrong. That Morrigan was going to laugh in her face and call her out on her idiocy. It was in the hard edge to Morrigan's body, in the unreadable quality of her beautiful face. But there was also a light in her golden eyes that eased some of those worries. Surely Kallian could not be so off-based.
“No, Warden. I would not.” She ducked her chin briefly, a nod between equals or friends - it didn't matter, before she pivoted on her heel in that overly graceful manner of hers, and headed deeper into the woods. Quite clearly declaring the conversation to be over.
Kallian stared long and hard out over the water, before she too stood and swiped the dirt from her clothes. There would be no time for bathing today.
On to Chapter 7!
Author: skybound2
Word Count: ~2600 this chapter (~25900 so far)
Characters: Fem!City-Elf PC (Kallian Tabris), Sten, Zevran, Alistair, and Morrigan (the overall fic is Zevran/Tabris with Sten and some others tossed in. Liberally, at times. References Alistair/Tabris, Alistair/Anora, and Zevran/Other.)
Rating: T
Summary: Kallian Tabris decides to leave Ferelden for Seheron with Sten, but a night spent with Zevran prior to the fall of the Archdemon has a lasting impact. In this bit: A small interlude between our Warden and favorite witch.
Spoilers: Through end game.
Author's Note: Another "Interlude" which will hopefully give some more depth to Tabris, as well as some insight to Morrigan. Next time, we shall return to the regularly scheduled plot! Many, many thanks to pennydreadful for the beta!!! Also, I wish to thank everyone who is following this story once again. You rock! This story can also be found at FFN.
Previously: (On LJ)
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Interlude (the First)
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Interlude (the Last)
The Bannorn: Dawn before the Fall of the Archdemon
Kallian awakened, limbs tangled together with Zevran's; her pale skin blending with his skin-kissed hues. She ached: a crick in her neck from sleeping lopsided against his arm; little fiery blemishes peppering her flesh where bugs had taken to nibbling during the night; and a warm throb between her thighs.
As the last threads of sleep washed away from her, her body was filled with a new tension - memories of nightmarish dreams suddenly too real. For a moment, she fancied that she could smell fire and brimstone; and her heart paused in her chest in fear. It was only a twist of her imagination, however, and soon the muscle began to pump fiercely again. In reality the air was moist with fog, thick with morning dew, and the twittering of a dove echoing from the tree above them.
Zevran appeared innocent in repose. His features softened, hair tangled up in a golden halo about his head. With slow eyes, she traced the curving mahogany tattoos that cover the expanse of his body in swirling patterns; down his chest, over his abdomen, and wrapped around his thigh. They led her back: up, up, up to his sleeping face once more. His eyes darting back and forth behind closed lids, a tiny smile touching the corners of his sinful mouth. Part of her longed to cup his cheek, to brush the pad of her thumb against his lower lip, but she's conscientious enough to realize that this was likely their (all of theirs) final day. The least she could do was allow him to sleep until the sun had fully risen.
Carefully, she extricated herself from him, and slipped into her clothing (a feat not easily accomplished, as at least one article of clothing had ended up hanging from a tree-branch overhead). Once done, she wasted little time making her way to the watering hole situated on the other side of camp. A quick bath, a bit of three-day-old bread, and that tonic that Wynne was ever-so-fond of producing sounds indulgent and precisely like what she needs.
Watching each footfall as carefully as she could, she made her way through the still sleeping camp with little issue (a brief nod to the two guards still on duty not-withstanding). The sight that greeted her at the water's edge was not entirely surprising, but it did change her plans a bit.
Morrigan was situated along the bank, one foot dangling down into the water, and the other drawn up to her chest. Her chin propped against her knee, and long arms wrapped around the limb. Kallian paused, spying, while the other woman drug a foot slowly back and forth in the stream, a far-away look upon her face. Kallian's stomach clenched at the sight, worry eating at her.
Morrigan had been quiet since they'd left Redcliffe. Not to say that she was ever overly-talkative; but most of their travels included at least some commentary from the witch. Whether it was a bit of (somewhat) well-meaning debate with Wynne (alright, more often than not these debates ended with a huff on one end and a growl on the other, but they rarely ended in lightning storms or earthquakes, so Kallian marked that off in the 'success' column), desperately trying to avoid fashion advice from Leliana (while simultaneously trying to pilfer useful tidbits regarding make-up and hairstyles - Morrigan's sneaking skills apparently didn't extend to such topics), or exchanging scathing banter with Alistair (this was a nearly-non-stop source of amusement/annoyance for the entire party) Morrigan's voice could often be heard.
This had not been the case during the final march, and it bothered Kallian.
While the Warden and the Witch had never truly bonded, neither had they ever really argued. For certain, they had their occasional disagreement (and Kallian could not possibly recall the number of times the words 'stop baiting Alistair' had crossed her lips) but these were were easily balanced by how often they agreed.
Which happened more regularly than either would have suspected.
Despite all of that, their budding friendship had never fully gotten off the ground. Since she was a child, Kallian had always felt more at ease around men, than woman. Her mother had died young, and her most constant playmate had been found in her cousin Soris. Her other cousin, Shianni, came to the Alienage from Highever a bit later, and, while Kallian loved her dearly, the two had decidedly different ideas as to what constituted 'fun'. Eventually the two had grown quite close; even closer than her and Soris. But it had taken years.
Morrigan and Kallian simply hadn't had that much time together. In Sten, Kallian had found a kindred spirit. In Alistair, a fast love. And, in Zevran, a true confidant. There simply hadn't been room for the witch.
It was always the Warden and her boys.
Even so, she did have some affection for the other woman. It was plain to any that bothered to look that Morrigan was exceedingly sheltered, despite her abrasive nature and immense magical talent. Kallian, for all the time she'd spent behind the walls of the Alienage, had infinitely more experience when it came to personal relationships. And witnessing Morrigan deliberately withdrawing from the group over the course of the March set the Warden's teeth on edge. Something would simply have to be done before they were drawn into the final battle. There was too much at stake, and she needed everyone at their best.
“'Tis impolite to stare, Warden.” Morrigan did not so much as lift her head as he spoke.
Heat spread through Kallian's cheeks, but she soldiered on, moving forward with careful controlled steps until she was only a few paces from the other woman. She pulled her shoes from her feet, and folded her body down on the ground beside the witch in a mirroring position. “I didn't want to disturb.”
“And yet, here you are.”
“Quite.”
The silence stretched on, a smattering of starlings scattered through the trees on the other side of the water, their song echoing across the distance.
“I assume that you did not merely come down here to sit in silence with me.”
“No. I actually came down here to bathe.”
“Ahh,” and now she did turn chasind yellow eyes upon Kallian, some of their typical luster absent. “If you wish for privacy, you need only ask. 'Twould certainly be the quicker option then waiting and hoping I will simply depart on my own.”
“The bath can wait. I wanted to talk with you, actually.”
Steel and stone stole across the other woman's features, hardening her abruptly. “What of?”
Kallian sucked in a moist breathe, and allowed her gaze to return to the fog rolling in waves over the slow-moving water in front of them. “I wanted to thank you.”
Shock registered on Morrigan's face, and Kallian felt oddly grateful that she was able to catch the woman off guard. “I- thank me? For what?”
“For staying with us. For not deserting like you could. For providing us more of a guarantee that the blight will end, here and now, then anyone else could have done.” Kallian angled her head towards the witch, and hoped that her sincerity could show through. “For saving Alistair...and me. Thank you.”
A confused laugh, dressed up in cold tones was her response. “'Tis an unexpected response considering... You had not seemed quite so accepting at the time after all.”
Kallian bobbed her head in acquiescence. “I am not a fool, Morrigan. A bit over my head at times, perhaps, and certainly baffled at all we've managed to accomplish. But I am no fool.”
“I - no. I don't suppose you are.” Something like a smile graced Morrigan's face, it lightened her features up remarkably.
“We couldn't have accomplished half of what we have if we hadn't all stuck together. Any one of you could have chosen to run off, or to challenge my authority - and you would have been right to - especially at the beginning, when I was a leader by default then.” She flashed jesting eyes at the other woman. “A babe with barely any blood on her sword.”
“Truly? I seem to recall a tale that depicted your conscription as a bloody one.”
A vice gripped Kallian's heart at the reminder, but it loosened nearly as quickly. Her voice, however, retained the chilled air that surrounded the memory. “That was a lifetime ago now it seems. I... recall it. In extensive detail. But it almost seems as like it happened to someone else.”
A bird that had landed upon a rock several feet away, a wriggling worm in its mouth, caught Kallian's attention. “The choices I made back then, they were not my own. None of them. Not the choice to be married, nor the choice to murder the raping bastard that stood between my cousin and I.”
The worm dropped to the stone, only to be snatched up by the predatory bird a moment later, and scarfed down in two choking gulps. “That was life. That was survival. There was nothing grand or special or avoidable about any of it.”
The bird turned; beady little black eyes in a red and gray stripped face, and cocked its head towards the pair of humans in front of it. A long second drew by, before it opened its beak and released a delightful little song into the air. “But the choices I have made since then...for better or for worse...they have been my own.”
The bird spread its wings, and lifted itself into flight, is song trailing behind it. Kallian titled her head back to Morrigan, to find she had the other woman's rapt attention. “That is the blood that stains my blade. There is a...discernible difference.”
She sighed, and turned from Morrigan's unwavering gaze. Soon, her legs began to cramp, and she stretched them out before her, a relieved grunt escaping her at the change in position. “What will you do, once this is all over?”
The air bristled with the return of tension in the witch. “I will leave. As previously discussed.”
A laugh, light and with a small amount of humor rent the air. “Of that, I am certain. But - and forgive me, I am not trying to pry. I am merely...curious. Do you intend to settle somewhere?” Kallian raised a hand to prevent the outburst brewing on Morrigan's lips from erupting, “Or to continue to travel? It will be high in summer when you give birth. I can't imagine that it would be comfortable to be heavy with child, and traveling, in that heat.”
Morrigan gave a wary look, obviously not trusting the line of questioning. “I imagine any traveling I am doing will need to end long enough to have the child. Yes.”
Kallian nodded, and turned back to the water. “I intend to keep my promise you know. I will not go looking for you...and, while I can not speak for Alistair, I imagine he will let you be as well.”
"'Twould be a fruitless search, you would not find me unless I wished to be found."
“And would you?”
“Would I what?”
“Wish to be found? I know that we have not always been the closest of friends. But we are - friends, I mean.” Pale eyes settled upon yellow. “I can't imagine that raising a child alone would be easy.”
The stiffening of Morrigan's shoulders was the only sign that the line of conversation was getting to her. “If you are trying to ply me for more information, in the hopes that I will spill some dark secret regarding the child, it 'twill not work.”
“I am not.”
This time, it was a sarcastically arched eyebrow (Kallian idly wondered how eyebrows could express emotion). “Then you are hoping that I will falter under your caring and kind words, and allow you the chance to know your love's bastard babe.”
A muscle in Kallian's jaw twitched, and her fists clenched in the dirt by her sides. “No. I do not.” She relaxed her breathing, calming her body's reactions. “This has nothing - okay, this has little - to do with Alistair. I am asking about you, Morrigan. And yes, the child is at the forefront of my thoughts. I believe that we both agreed earlier that I am not a fool?” She did not wait for a rebuttal, but pressed on. “If you think for a single moment that I believe that you laid with Alistair in a ritual intended to breed a old god in human form simply so that you could have a go at being a mother, you are truly mistaken.”
“Wha-”
A sharp nod from Kallian cut the witch off. “I know that there is more to it than that. There has to be. But, I do not care. Not really. I trust you, Morrigan. And perhaps that is folly on my part, but there it is, all the same. And I do not believe that anything you intend to do with this child could be worse than what we are dealing with now. Generation after generation of Wardens have succeeded in slaying one Archdemon after another, after all. And still, more rise. If there is any way to put an end to that...”
She paused to both allow her words to settle into Morrigan's mind, as well as to organize the rest of her thoughts, which were tumbling fast and tangled through her head; the morning's nightmare fresh in her memory. “The Archdemon's they - they ache, Morrigan. Their songs are bitter, twisted things. There is no beauty to be found there. And yes, I have a hard time imagining you being a party to anything of the sort.”
Morrigan blinked, and shifted her eyes away. “You...trust me?”
“I do.”
Morrigan nodded, and stood, slender hands reaching back to brush dirt and debris from her robes. “The merry little band of misfits you have acquired would deem you a fool for doing so.” Her stance shifted towards the camp, but she did not move. “And there would be little evidence I could use to refute them.”
“And what of you? Have you changed your mind as well? Would you so readily call me a fool?”
For a short time, Kallian though that she was wrong. That Morrigan was going to laugh in her face and call her out on her idiocy. It was in the hard edge to Morrigan's body, in the unreadable quality of her beautiful face. But there was also a light in her golden eyes that eased some of those worries. Surely Kallian could not be so off-based.
“No, Warden. I would not.” She ducked her chin briefly, a nod between equals or friends - it didn't matter, before she pivoted on her heel in that overly graceful manner of hers, and headed deeper into the woods. Quite clearly declaring the conversation to be over.
Kallian stared long and hard out over the water, before she too stood and swiped the dirt from her clothes. There would be no time for bathing today.
On to Chapter 7!