Strings Attached - a There and Back Again side story

Part 26

Twenty-Six: Leliana

He was gone in the morning when she woke, but he'd left a piece of parchment with a note scrawled across it in hasty handwriting: Your route is being handled by another scout for the day. I thought you could use some rest. I hope to see you tonight.

She sighed and stretched. She could admit she had been looking forward to waking up together but knew Nathaniel would be eager to report back to Cailan. It left her with a day to herself – a rare luxury – and she was determined not to waste it. She jumped up and dressed quickly, eating a brief meal of rations from her pack. There was still a small pile of ale-soaked clothing in the corner, and she gathered it up with a wrinkled nose.

Nathaniel's tent had been disassembled, leaving a small pile of belongings under a tarp made up of the old, torn tent; Leliana transferred everything except his bedroll into her, larger pavilion, determined that Nate would have his tent back. The bedroll she discarded; it smelled awful, and she'd never trust the assassin's needles had all been removed.

Thinking about the needles – and what she'd done to ensure none of them had harmed Nathaniel – left her pink-faced, but grinning.

She packed her own belongings, leaving them in one corner of the tent, and then went to the requisitions officer and got herself a new tent and bedroll, which she also stashed inside Nate's. She stepped out through the tent flap when she was done, and nearly knocked Sierra straight off her feet.

"You okay, Leli?" Sierra grabbed her arm, holding on until they were both stable. "I haven't seen you the last few nights."

"Oh, yes, my friend. How are you?" Leliana distracted the woman with small talk, having no desire to discuss what may – or may not – be happening with Nathaniel. But she made sure to borrow the small stone showerhead the Queen of Orzammar had gifted her, willing herself not to blush again as she considered the many uses to which it could be put...later.

The two women wandered through camp together, stopping to chat with several of their friends, who all seemed to be around, for once. Aedan started to talk about the assassination attempt, but Leliana shot him a look, tilting her head towards her friend when she wasn't looking. Did the idiot really want to discuss that with Sierra? His eyes widened, but then he nodded in understanding and changed the subject. Zevran just flirted with the both of them, a sly grin on his face, leaving Aedan sputtering; the dwarves were already well into their cups, and they didn't linger. Wynne and Anders were working in the rough infirmary, trying desperately to stem the tide of a stomach malady that seemed to be going through the camp; Wynne shooed them away to reduce their risk of catching anything. No one had seen Conrad all day, and by mutual unspoken agreement, the two avoided the command tent entirely. Leliana had no desire to have to school her expression around Nathaniel – and Sierra had no desire to get pulled into planning sessions with Cailan and Loghain shouting at each other endlessly.

When Sierra left to go find her husband – and how adorable were they? – Leliana began the preparations she had in mind to finally, hopefully, give her and Nathaniel the chance to see if there was anything more to their relationship than mutual attraction and awkwardness. She gathered some supplies, scouted the area surrounding the camp for a likely location, and then hastily scrawled a note and handed it to one of the young runners to deliver.

It was almost supper time. She wouldn't have to wait long.