high_seas | In the evening when the smoke has cleared

Entry tags:

In the evening when the smoke has cleared

Who: Elissa and Haytham
Where: Cabin on the Sinewave
When: Backdated to the night after Defeating the Captain but before Treasure Hunting
What: Spending the evening recovering from injuries suffered during the battle and having a few long overdue conversations, among other things.
Warnings: PG-13
Status: Closed

The day’s events had left him worn. The battle with Captain Fu Xi Yue and her fleet of Navy ships had gone in their favor but not due to any dazzling master plan on their part and not without some pain and sacrifice. While others had taken only minor damage at least two of their number had been seriously injured. Damn foolish on his part to allow it but in the heat of battle these things could happen so quickly. One false step, or in this case a large man slipping up on you with a cudgel, and you found yourself impaled.

Haytham frowned as he gently eased himself back into the mattress preparing himself for the searing pain placing pressure on his side would bring but to his surprise there was none. Magically healed the wound had stopped bleeding the instant the magic had been cast, though it had still ached for some time after that. Now it seemed even that symptom had faded away.

“Remarkable ability that healing magic. Little wonder the Navy sees us as such a threat. If power such as that could be harnessed for the greater good, antiquated and poorly run organizations like theirs would cease to exist.”

It was something to work towards if the Navy proved itself unwilling to listen to reason... and thus far it had. Were all of them cruel, bumbling, tyrants? If so the Navy might have to be destroyed before it could be rebuilt. Then the pirates could be dealt with.

But, one look from her and these thoughts were set aside, albeit temporarily. Rather difficult to think of war and instilling order in the world when you are laying shirtless in locked cabin with a beautiful woman. If only he hadn’t been injured... damn carelessness!

“I presume I can look forward to your keeping watch on me tonight... Just to be certain the magic did as it was intended?”

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Elissa's bloodied armor had been traded for a fresh tunic and trousers as soon as she'd been able to shed it and wipe off the remains of the fight. The gore from the battle had long since dried and it wasn't the first time that dragon hide had awaited a cleaning until Elissa could get to it. For now, she had other priorities - the largest of which was named Haytham Kenway.

"While I have complete faith in Anders' healing ability after experiencing it for myself, that excuse is exactly the one that I gave to Codi when I told her this was where I could be found," Elissa agreed with a smile as she tucked another pillow behind Haytham as he eased into the bed. Her own injuries, while small, were completely absent from her face since the mages had paid a visit. "I believe she and Hachiken are taking turns at watch since they both hid in the galley during the battle. It is only fair, after all. Still..."

She sat on the bunk to face Haytham, one foot upon the floor and the other foot tucked behind its opposite knee. Elissa reached out a hand to brush her fingertips against his temple. "I will take the last few hours before morning, so the knock on the door will be for me. Codi, I am certain, suspects that we can often be found in the same cabin despite our attempts at discretion." Her grin was unrepentant. "And I do not even care."

"There's a comforting thought, having the ship looked after by those two."

Neither one of them really inspired confidence but surely they could spot a ship approaching? Pure sour grapes kind of talk, though in Elissa's presence the words were softened to where there was no real bite to them. He was just upset he could not take part in things. While they were taking turns with the watch, something he should have been doing as well, he would likely be resting. It was much needed rest... but it was annoying to have been so sidelined.

Haytham had not taken much time to straighten himself up after the battle. Because, really with it being night and he being as worn as he was what would have been the point? He had removed the most bloodied of things and made his way directly for the bed. He was free of any gore but his poor shirt and overcoat... tch, what a mess and with a hole through both as well. They had been set aside on a trunk on the other side of the room to be seen to later.
A look was spared to the nearby table where two pistols were laying. He had at least seen fit to reload those and place them well within reach before succumbing to the lure of the bunk. There had been enough of being surprised by the Navy. If they did manage to board this ship again and make for a cabin he would not be caught without a means of defense.

Her touch brought him back from those thoughts as he turned and looked into hr eyes. That really was a comfort! Knowing she would be around, looking after the ship and himself. The realization surprised him as he looked up at her warm, yet wholly mischief filled face, he trusted her.

"It was only a matter of time before some one noticed. It's something of a wonder we had such a long span without any one prying."

He could use a little tending, but that would mean getting up and leaving his side to fetch a basin of water and a cloth - something she was loathe to do just yet. Wiping down Haytham's torso would likely make her thoughts stray in directions that should currently be avoided in the name of letting the poor man rest, so it was a good thing that the blood had already been cleaned away. Perhaps, with time, her excitement would diminish, but for now she was just as eager for him as she had been on their first night together.

Had it really been a month since they'd started sneaking back and forth between cabins? At least it was easier on the Sinewave.

Elissa could sense Haytham's discontent at his need to rest and knew the feeling all too well, but he would have been much worse off had Anders not been around. It was becoming more and more apparent to her that mages were being wasted by the Chantry's restrictions. It was a subject she would take time to address with Hawke and the healer when she was able. For now, it was time to address another difficult subject.

"Will it bother you for people to know that we are lovers?" she asked the man as her fingers reached toward the red ribbon that kept his hair tied away from his face. "I know that it will create far more complications for you than for me."

"You mean due to Connor."

Elissa and that ribbon. For a moment he smirked, amused with that fascination she had with his hair but before too long he leaned into her touch making it easier to push her way past the pillow he had been laying against and capture the end of the ribbon. The thief did not escape entirely unscathed however, before settling back into place on the bed her hand was captured and a kiss pressed into her palm. This was usually far too tender a gesture for him but it had been a difficult day and given her question it seemed he had a great deal of explaining to do. The kiss was something of an apology for not having confided this in her before.

"It seems I have left you with a false impression. I thought discretion for the best only because what happened between you and I was a private matter. If it were discovered, it would change nothing between us, I simply saw no reason to reveal our association to anyone else when they were in no way involved."

He was not the kind to kiss and tell, at all, and private matter were just that, private. It was why he took a deep breath now trying to prepare himself for the conversation that had to happen.

"As for Connor... He and I are not close. I had thought by bringing him on-board the Mistress we might come to know each other better but I wonder if we ever will. I am not sure how it came to be that he was raised solely by his mother but he mentioned I died before her so perhaps that was the reason. Or perhaps my being brought here set things on a different course. Those I left behind may well have thought me dead."

Connor had been a little vague on details when it came to his mother so it was hard to say what had happened between himself and Ziio. Since Haytham was from before that time he did not know he had been told to leave and never seek her out again. He had been rejected once his Templar ideas were discovered and his son kept away from him, until now. His mother's attempt to shield her son from the dangers she perceived in the Templar lifestyle.

Elissa's eyes were sought as he debated how much more to say on this. It might be wiser to say nothing else, but it would not be entirely kind. Since Elissa had decided to walk this path with him she ought to know what she was getting herself into.

"Her name was Ziio. She was a Mohawk woman whom I rescued from a group of soldiers seeking to make the native people of the Colonies into slaves. She was like you in many ways, a strong fighter, proud... When I was pulled here I had no way of knowing she was with child, but I suppose she must have been."

Haytham still held a fondness for her. Their romance had grown slowly over several months just as his relationship with Elissa had grown but... His feelings became muddled with this line of thinking. There was something of a guilt at having left Ziio to raise a child on her own, a curious 'what may have been' if they had managed to stay together, but there was an over riding feeling that that chapter of his life might have closed. There was no point trying to relive the past.

"Connor was close to his mother. I have no idea how he might take to the thought of you and I being together."

Edited (Typo! I killed the extra 'an'!) 2014-03-31 16:42 (UTC)

"It must be very strange, indeed, to know you have a son - especially when he is very nearly your age. Still, Haytham... he is your son. Perhaps he has misconceptions about you, since he did not get an opportunity to know you the way that I knew and adored my own father," Elissa said as she slid nearer to him on the bed and leaned to touch her forehead to Haytham's. Memories of her own father were still so vivid - in life and as he was dying. Bryce Cousland had been a good man and a great father. She could not imagine her life had he not helped to shape it. She closed her eyes and faintly smiled. "Do not give up on him. You should reach out to him as much as you are able while you have the chance."

He was a harder man than her father and far less open, but she had faith that Haytham could improve his relationship with Conner. "When you are ready to tell him about us, I will go with you. Just remember that we are not apologizing or asking for permission - we are simply giving him the courtesy of the truth."

The stolen red ribbon was gently threaded through Elissa's fingers with an absent motion, the ends dangling against the man's chest. "He could be the only son you will ever have, Haytham. Get to know him." Easing back a few inches, Elissa met his eyes. "For me?"

Edited (Switcheroo!) 2014-03-31 18:27 (UTC)

"Difficult to reach out to someone as openly hostile as he."

She hadn't seen Connor's face when he first arrived. It had been a twisted in a snarl of confusion, shock, and raw fury... more like he was facing an enemy than his Father.

Haytham couldn't imagine ever looking at his own Father that way, but then Edward Kenway, when he had known him, was a devoted family man. He was always around to teach and instruct him in the ways of adulthood. Connor had not had that. Mightn't that make it too late?

"Does it really matter to you?"

Her eyes held a firmness that showed it was without her needing to answer, but he found himself curious to know her reasoning. Was this just a sense of family, of what was right, or was there more to it?

"Were you very close to your parents?"

It was a night for difficult subjects, it seemed. With a slight sigh, Elissa angled her torso across Haytham's, internally thanking the Maker for Anders' quick response to her call - otherwise, she would have to be wary of causing further injury. She nestled into him, tucking her head against his opposite shoulder and curling both legs up on the bunk. It was the closest thing to a hug that she could manage while still facing him and sitting at his side.

"Yes, it matters to me and... yes. I was very close to them. Both my parents and my brother. I was the youngest of the pair of us," she quietly replied. Though Haytham wasn't always the tender sort, Elissa was grateful he was tolerant of her need for closeness when they were alone together.

He more than tolerated her touch, he moved an arm to hold her gently in place. Haytham was a man who had been tempered by his experiences like a rod of steel, a hard man as she had observed, but he was not so lost yet that all of the softness was gone. He still found it in himself to feel compassion for those he had seen die today, for her experiences which the more he heard of them reminded him of his own, and to enjoy unguarded moments like these.

"Until this Howe betrayed your family?"

It was a shame to bring this up now but there had never seemed a good time to speak of her past and he had wanted to ask about it for a long while now.

It had been close to two years since the attack. Why did the wound still feel so fresh? Haytham's unexpected question cut into her like a hot knife and Elissa lifted her head in surprise to look into his face. She had never...

"How do you know that? Did Anders mention it?" she asked in surprise, very nearly sounding accusatory. Hearing Haytham's voice say that hated name was almost surreal. A frown drew her brows downward as she searched the man's nearby face for an answer.

So she didn't remember? The expression on her face said as much. What did she think now that he had been checking up on her? Should have been maybe, but he hadn't. Before her curiosity overwhelmed her the question was answered as tactfully as he could think to do it.

"No, you mentioned it during that time when your mind was being controlled by the Witch. I had wanted to ask about it sooner, but the timing never seemed right for it."

Tension ebbed from Elissa as a sense of embarrassment overcame her initial reaction. "I... You did not deserve my tone. I apologize," she offered in a gentler voice. "That man changed my life in terrible, irrevocable ways, so to hear his name from your lips was entirely unexpected. As for the Witch, it is difficult to remember much of what happened when I was under her influence. There are... flashes of images and noises in sudden bursts like bolts of lightning and I recall very vivid memories of something terrible that happened at home, but you ..."

She shook her head in frustration. "Why would I mention that? What did I say?"

The apology was readily accepted. He might have reacted the same upon hearing the name of the man who had ordered his Father's murder... if he knew who that man was.

"At the time you spoke of how Howe led his men against your castle while the majority of the army was away, that your father was killed, but that you had managed an escape."

No mention that she had at the time felt he was Howe or of her bloodthirsty desire for revenge. This he could not blame her for either.

"I assumed you were seeing visions of past events."

Elissa lowered her gaze to the hollow of his throat as she brushed the end of his hair ribbon there against his skin. She was silent for a long span of moments as she tried to sort through the complex tangle of emotions these memories brought to the fore without losing herself within them. Finally, she spoke, though her voice had gone a bit thick from the grief that remained.

"Any other time, and I could have tried to distract you from this subject," she said with a tiny, sad smile. "But this is something that..." Elissa cleared her throat. "They all died. Not just Father, but Mother, my brother's wife Oriana, my little nephew Oren. Nan. Mother Mallol. Ser Gilmore. So many that served and lived in our castle. Lady Landra who was visiting mother. Landra's son Dairren. Even her maid Iona. Humans and elves - anyone associated with us was cut down.

Fergus as well, I am sure. He was my brother and I never found him at Ostagar. Even if he survived the Darkspawn, which is unlikely, then Howe's assassins may have found him. They found me."

She was doing a fair job at distracting him while not actively trying to distract him. It took a good deal of self control to focus on her words and not the dancing ribbon playing on his neck... at least until the strand could be captured between finger and thumb ending it's interruption.

A massacre. The scene must have been a brutal one and it conjured up vile images of blood, death, the acidic scent of smoke clinging to the air. It was easy enough to form a mental image of the past she spoke of, after all he had lived through one similiar.

"I'm sorry."

Not the same assassins but he found that strangely similiar as well.

"You eventually found the one responsible for the attack and put an end to him?"

"Mmhm. I did. My father's dear friend Rendon Howe died at the hands of the last Cousland and my three associates," she quietly agreed. "We killed everyone in the estate who wore the uniform of a guard or who took up arms against us. I, however, did not attack in the dark of night when everyone was abed. No, we entered in full daylight, the four of us, and went room-to-room until we found him."

Since the end of the ribbon had been captured by Haytham's fingers, Elissa idly began to caress his hand while remembering the hatred in Howe's face as he spat his final words at her. "Revenge is a strange thing. The satisfaction from it is very short-lived once you realize that it has changed nothing. I shall always hate that man for what he did to my family. He will always be the one who took them from me."

"It would never undue the wrong that had been done to your family, but at least you made those responsible pay for it."

He slowly released the ribbon and laced his fingers between hers, holding the hand as gently as one might hold a delicate porcelain vase. He understood that feeling all too well. Even with blood the missing pieces of one's family could never be sewn back together. It was probabally the deep similarities between their two experiences that made him speak of his own. She must have been older, from her story it sounded as if she was, but they had both witnessed the sudden tragic murder of their father.

"I was only ten when the men attacked my home in Queen Anne's Square. The five of them set upon us in the middle of the night, killing any they could find. I had seen something in the garden and stepped outside or else they might have found me asleep in my bed. It was one of the first places they checked. I ran back to the house when I heard the screams and, though just a boy then, managed to dispatch one of the men with his own sword when he made a clumsy attempt to kill Mother. Father managed to kill another but the man's partner was quick with a sword and my Father was overcome by him."

He could never forget that terrible moment. Amidst the thick choking smoke of a house set ablaze a young boy with his weak attempt to fight was brushed aside, landing hard against the wooden floor. Weaponless after his fall he had watched while his Father was run through and had been entirely helpless to do anything to prevent it.

"A family friend arrived in time to save my life, but not before my elder sister was made off with. I have over the years found and dispatched those mercenaries who attacked us, but I have not found my half-sister and I have not discovered the one who ordered the attack. When I do..."

His expression changed very little during the story, but his jaw tensed enough at the end to give a sad but very predatory implication to his final words.

"That person will meet the same fate as your Howe."

As he spoke, she traced the edge of her thumb against the hand that held it, the motion slow, repetitious, and meant to comfort. Elissa's other hand eased around his neck in a warm, but gentle embrace as if he, too, was fragile - perhaps picturing the boy he had been at the time of his loss. "Oh, Haytham," she murmured. "You were so young. I am so very sorry that you lost your father that way."

Both attacks had happened under the cover of night, Both had left them feeling helpless and betrayed. Both had left them with uncertainties about their siblings and the loss of beloved fathers. How strange that they should have such tragedy in common. No wonder she had been so drawn to the man.

"If I could, I would help you get your revenge. Since I cannot, you shall simply have to settle for my attempts at comfort."

Edited (Redo!) 2014-04-04 07:14 (UTC)

"I do not require your sympathy."

Words that might have sounded harsh but were spoken in a soft way as he made no move at all to squirm free of her grasp. Her touch was wanted even if he felt her feelings of remorse for his sake were misplaced. It did still hurt in a way, but it had happened so long ago that some of the pain had dulled as time had a way of doing.
And a moment later, perhaps realizing that could have been abrasive, an grateful addendum was spoken.

"But, thank you. You have always been a very compassionate lady."

For these efforts she was granted a smile. It was a strange new feeling to have some one offer their comfort... but nice really. Best to move on. Dwelling on such sentimental thoughts was likely not a wise idea.

"I suppose, I told you that story to ease the burden you must be feeling. Some times it helps to know others have experienced similiar tragedies."

That smile did a great deal to additionally soften his words as Elissa was well aware that it was a gift just for her. It was something he needed to do more often. The glimpse into his past did a great deal to explain why Haytham may have hardened his heart to be more pragmatic than sentimental - in her mind, he'd grown up far too quickly.

"It does help to know that you understand, though I am saddened that tis due to a similar tragedy," she agreed while drawing their clasped hands close enough to press a kiss to the back of his wrist and then another to his hand. "Tell me about your father?" While he was in the mood to reveal things, she would learn more, if she could.

With such tender encouragement as those kisses he took a deep breath, remembering all those traits about his father that in his youth had made the man seem indestructible.

"My father, Edward Kenway, was a man of means, a gentleman by any standard, but he held a great depth of compassion for those less fortunate than himself. He tried to instill in me the importance of that and of keeping an open mind. To look beyond what is said and to see the world as most others never bother to see it. He was courageous, caring... I quite idolized him. I suppose most young boys do see their fathers in this way."

He was also secretive. In a trick of memory the harder times were forgotten in the nostalgia.

"Maybe daughters do as well? You sounded as if you were very close with your father."

"Mmm. Edward. I like that name," Elissa stated with a small, warm smile. "Much of what you said to describe your father could be applied to my own. He was a Teryn - the highest title of the nobility, one of only two in all of Ferelden, and second only in power to the king. Still, he took his duties to our people very seriously and did his best to instill the value of stewardship in both Fergus and myself. Father was not the sort to spend all day indoors, though he was educated and did a lot of reading. He made certain that we learned the lands of Highever, learned how to live from them, learned how to hunt, learned to respect and appreciate the people in our care.

He was very popular amongst rich and poor alike and respected by the other nobles. Dairren even said that many thought he should have been king instead of Prince Cailan after King Maric died."

As she spoke, she studied the strength and shape of Haytham's sunbrowned hand, brushing kisses over a few, pale scars on the skin of his fingers. His hands were capable of great gentleness as well as great violence and she found that dichotomy to be fascinating. "I adored my father and he doted upon me. Perhaps too much. I was his ferocious, precocious 'Pup' - as he called me."

Edited 2014-04-06 04:08 (UTC)

Her inspection on his hand was watched with a certain curious fascination of his own. It was almost as if she were trying to memorize every line, winkle and scar he had collected over the years.
A very good thing he had taken to not wearing the ring. She no doubt would have asked after the mark of office and he was not entirely sure how well she would take to his Templar ideas.

"And your mother? Was she as worldly wise as your father?"

"Ha! Perhaps more so," Elissa replied with a laugh after pressing a kiss to his knuckle. "She, too, fought in the rebellion against Orlais. That is how she met my father. Mother had a quick wit, but was equally at home with the softer arts as in battle. In truth, I never saw her fight until we joined forces to fight against the men who were invading our home. She fit right into her old armor and took up a bow as if it were an extension of herself. Despite her years playing Teryna to Father's Teryn, she had not forgotten her past."

"Tis a shame that I shall not live long enough to see if I would be her equal at that age," was absently added while she pressed her cheek to the back of Haytham's hand. "What of your mother?"

It was comforting being this close to him - the warmth, his masculine scent, and that voice. She was fairly sure Haytham could warm her in winter simply by murmuring into her ear. Thinking of warmth made her remember her own time recovering from blood loss and she pulled back a little to give him an inquiring look. "Are you warm enough with me as your blanket or shall I pull up the bedding?"

"Why would you say that, due to your perilous lifestyle?"

A short but merry life, or so pirates claimed. For assassins it could be the same way, and she had chosen the warrior's path, it might have been the same way of thinking for her.

With her cheek on his hand as it was the involuntary tensing of the tendons betrayed the drawing away before it had begun. It was the natural course of things for Elissa to ask after his mother since he had asked after hers, but it was a source of old sorrow. His voice gained an edge again as he spoke of his mother in a cold clinical way, a far different manner than he had spoken of his father.

"Tessa Kenway was from a noble wealthy home. I have often suspected hers may not have been a marriage supported by her parents, as we never heard from them but she was content with the union and happy to be a mother. She saw to the needs of the household, kept the servants in line, and always doted on the family. She was a very loving person..."

His hand fell away from her face, moving instead to rest on the mattress so his view of her was no longer obstructed.

"Until that night. Even if I had acted to save her life she could never look at me the same way again. She grew cold, distant, and sent me away to continue my studies in Europe. In that moment I had ceased being her son and had become nothing but a murderer in her eyes."

She was fussing with the blankets before he even had a chance to offer an answer, but cold, hardly. He hadn't had the chance to get cold with her so near. Though now that she had moved away the chill from a draft under the door caught his shoulder and froze him to the core... or maybe this shiver was more due to the memory of his mother's icy nature?

"I suppose I should attempt some rest."

That would be a Kenway yes to the blankets, though he kept speaking while she straightened them out for him.

"With all this talk of families and tragic situations at home, I wonder... it was asked on the journals what people would wish for if they did have the jewel Jones was looking for, would your answer be to return home like most of the others said they would wish for?"

"We should get some rest," was her gentle correction. She started to say something about his mother's unfortunate reaction to a grieving son, but remembered his earlier admonition that he did not need her sympathy. Still, words of comfort were upon her lips until he asked that question about the Jewel.

"Had you asked me that when I first arrived, I would have said yes," she murmured with a tiny smile. "Now, I am not certain what I might wish. Thankfully, t'will be a long time yet before all of the shards are gathered."

No sense revealing to him that the thought of returning home to the mess that awaited her was far less pleasant than her current situation - especially since Haytham did not exist in her world. She was growing far too fond of him far too fast and had decided to cease fighting it. By the Maker, if anyone deserved a little happiness after the past year or so, it was her. Might as well enjoy it while it lasted.

Uncurling her legs, Elissa paused long enough to lean in to offer Haytham a slow, sweet, and very thorough kiss.

Here he had been moving to withdrawal, to duck behind a few of those mental barriers of his, but it seemed that was not to be allowed. Elissa's words were a gentle reminder of that, 'we' instead of 'I', and her kiss drew him back out as quickly as he had pulled away.

"You might manage a few hours sleep before you have to take your watch."

Might, if she were given a quiet peaceful moment to settle down instead of having her lips captured for a second kiss.

"Careful," she admonished him with a breathless laugh when the reciprocated kiss had ended. Elissa pulled the bed linens up to cover most of Haytham's bare torso as she settled down atop the blankets at his side. Since she was still fully dressed for her upcoming turn at watch, she thought it best not to join him beneath the blankets.

"You were injured today, remember?" the woman teased almost against his lips. "I would hate for my kisses to make you lightheaded." Despite her warning, she did not take any pains to move away.

How galling to be so rightfully called out not once but twice. In the moment and with no pain to remind him of it there had been a danger of forgetting there had been any injury at all.

Still she hadn't moved away which made it quite easy to trace the curve of her cheek from ear to chin with a few fingers and offer one last kiss before settling back into the pillows to get the rest he had just been reminded he needed.

"Concerned I will be so overcome by your charms as to swoon?"

A laugh escaped her at his question and she propped herself up on one elbow to look at him with a warm, twinkling gaze. "If I truly thought I could have such an effect upon you, I might be very proud. You are winning in this playful war of love despite my best efforts. You, supposed paragon of self control, have weaknesses - and I shall find them all in time."

She nuzzled closer, settling into the bed at his side. "Tis only fair," she tiredly murmured, "Since you wield that voice with such success against the strength of my knees."

These bold statements proved difficult to readily respond to. Though he searched his mind for some witty rebuttal silence settled in instead. Winning in the game of love she had said. Love?

It was not a sentiment he felt up to reciprocating and yet... he was fond of her. They would not have come so far or grown so close if that were not the case.

"You should be careful. It sounds as if you are in far more danger of a swoon than I."

"Me?" she playfully scoffed. "The Last Cousland? Defender of Ferelden and all of Thedas? Mighty Slayer of the Archdemon Urthemiel and Hero of the Fifth Blight? Me? Swoon?"

As she asked her good-humored questions, she laced her fingers with his nearest hand and pillowed her head against his strong, bare shoulder.

"Perhaps, if you had not stopped kissing me," she conceded at last as she tried to hide a smile.

She could quite easily hide the smile by just looking away from him but the mirth behind the words betrayed her happiness all the same. Elissa was content and he was worrying too much. This was decided before his arm fell naturally to the comfortable nook of her waist and the hand she held was given a soft squeeze.

"So many titles. You're rather like the King, you gain a new one every year."

The soft laugh that was her response was swallowed up by a badly suppressed yawn. "Not a king," she corrected with a bit of an impish smile, "But I could have been the Queen of Ferelden. That, however, is a long story and I am too tired to tell it."

In a warmer, gentler voice, Elissa murmured, "Sleep well, Haytham."

"Later then, it sounds an interesting tale."

Definitely a story that he would like to hear, if there were any more to in than she had said already.

He looked one last time to her still form beside him before blowing out the only lit candle.

"Good night."

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In the evening when the smoke has cleared

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