Gift With A Bow

Watching Alistair from across the fire, Ilyria Cousland couldn't help but smile. It was his night to cook, and Leliana was standing over him looking into the pot with distrust. Ilyria didn't feel the same way about Alistair's cooking as her companions. It reminded her of Nan's cooking and for a moment she could imagine her family crowded around the table. Fergus making disgustingly sweet eyes at his pregnant wife; her mother and father quieting her as she pretended to be ill at the sight of them, and laughing when she hugged Orianna and told her it was all in good fun.
Ilyria swiped a betraying tear off her cheek and tore her eyes away from the man she now considered her family. He was all she really had now. She looked down at the rose he had given her that day and thumbed its' silken petals. She felt a twinge of guilt as well; she had given him gifts, yes. But they had been small, unassuming things. Trinkets she thought he may enjoy. Elissa had done this for all her companions however. This rose was sincere. There was thought put into it and sentiment behind it.
Struck with a sudden idea, Ilyria crossed the camp to where the old mage Wynne was sitting.
"Excuse me, Wynne?"
"Greetings young lady. Is there something I can help you with?"
Ilyria smiled. The healer had grown on her, becoming the closest thing she would ever have to a mother again.
"I was hoping to give Alistair a gift, but I'll need your help."
Wynne looked up, curiosity piqued, and nodded.
"Meet me in my tent in ten minutes?"
After the plans were made Ilyria went into her tent to dig out the gift she intended to give. She pulled it out and smiled. What better way to say I love you? She thought to herself, and looked up when Wynne entered the tent. The elderly mage smiled sadly when she saw what Ilyria intended to give. "He'll love it, my dear," and sat next to Ilyria to hear what was needed of her.