Into the Woods (a Dragon Age fanfiction)

In the Still of the Night

By the sixth night out, they had developed routines for setting up the campsite. Fergus and Fenris went to work putting up the tents; Jennie and Varric hunted for dinner. Oghren hauled firewood and Anders went for water and then started the fire. Isabela skinned whatever game was caught, and Zevran, by communal decision, did the cooking. Anders usually ended up with the clean-up, as he tended to be the quickest about it.

They'd eat, talk a little, mostly about inconsequential subjects, and then head for bed or watch. Tonight first watch had been drawn by Oghren and Anders. They stayed up, near the fire, while the others slowly settled down.

Oghren took a contemplative pull off the flask he carried. "Want some?" He held it toward Anders.

The mage looked at it longingly. "I wish I dared to. Justice would not be pleased. He is already upset with me for embarking on an affair."

"Oh? Got a girl back in Kirkwall?"

"No." Anders looked in the direction of the tents, then turned back to Oghren. "With Zevran," he said softly. "He came to me the first day out on the road."

Oghren snorted. "Tumble's not the same as an affair."

"It wasn't a tumble!" Anders protested.

The dwarf frowned. "What happened to you, Sparkle-fingers? Used to be you knew the difference. Swishy's not into you—he's workin' on a bet."

"A what?"

"A bet. Him an' Flashy-tits tryin' to see who can bed the whole company." Oghren grinned, taking another swig from the flask. "So far, they're even."

Anders stared at his friend, mouth agape. "A bet? No, that can't be right. He was ..."

There was pity on the dwarf's face, pity that made Anders uncomfortable. They were old friends, but he had never seen that particular expression on Oghren's face before—as if he, Anders, were the foolish ne'er-do-well, and Oghren was the wiser of the two. Anders's face flushed with embarrassment at having been caught romanticizing, and he, too, wondered what had happened to him that a practiced seduction had worked so well, and fooled him into imagining intimacy where none existed. He looked into the fire to cover the confusion and anger he couldn't help but feel. After a moment, the secondary import of Oghren's statement, and the knowledge behind it struck him.

"Wait, you ... and Isabela? What about Felsi?"

Oghren spat into the fire. "Felsi left me. Took little Ricky, went back to Orzammar with him."

"Ricky?"

"Short for Wulfric; named 'im after the Commander." He grunted. "Man saved me from drownin' in my own filth in Orzammar. The lava's own end for a warrior, stripped of 'is weapons and 'is caste, too. Stone woulda turned me away from the very shame. Now ... now I got things to do. People to care about. Even if she didn't stay, she might've. Yeah, that's why I'm goin' along. Blighter mighta up and run from the Wardens, but we look after our own."

There was a pause, and Oghren glanced sideways at Anders, his eyes narrowed.

"What are you talking about?" Anders asked.

"Didn't tell ya yet, eh? S'pose it slipped their minds that they hadn't told everybody." Oghren shifted closer on the log. "We're goin' to find 'im."

"Wulfric?"

"Yeah."

"What for?"