This is a little bit of nonsense to celebrate our 100th page.
. . .
Absently spinning an arrow around in his hand, Nate watched the movement below. "How many?"
"One hundred ser." It was an effort not to sound nervous, but Gwyn refused to let the Commander see she was worried.
One hundred. That might be a problem. "I have fifty arrows. You?"
"I have fifty arrows." She shifted on her feet. "It might be best if you do it."
"I have faith in you girl. You won't miss."
"Ser!? I mean, yes ser." If her hands stopped shaking she might manage. "Still might be best if you do it."
"
I might miss." Despite the threat of imminent death, he grinned when she shook her head. "I appreciate your confidence."
"Not confidence ser. Never seen you miss yet." The movement below changed and a moment later she heard a shout. "They've spotted us."
"Yes." Lifting his bow, Nate notched an arrow. "Ready girl?"
Gwyn did the same. "Ready." She waited until she saw Nate's first arrow fly down into the oncoming darkspawn before releasing her own.
Then it was a matter of rhythm. Notch, pull, aim, release, notch, pull, aim, release. Each arrow flew straight, taking one more darkspawn out of their number. Sheltered and up high as they were, their enemy had little chance to attack at range. They would soon though, if those emissaries managed to get within casting range. "Emissaries ser."
"I see them." His next arrow was aimed at one. "Far right."
"Ser."
Their arrows flew in unison, embedding themselves in the throats of the casters, removing them from the battle.
They seemed tireless but neither of them was immune to fatigue. Oddly, it was Nate that missed first. "Curse it." He didn't pause but notched another arrow. "Missed one."
Gwyn didn't answer but continued shooting.
When their arrows ran out, there three darkspawn still alive. Both of them dropped their bows and reached for daggers.
Nate lifted braced himself for the impact when the first one threw itself into the air. It landed hard just at his feet, a dagger in its eye. "Nicely done."
"Yes ser." Gwyn hefted her remaining dagger, wishing she could tell Zev his lessons
had saved her life. Just as he'd said they would. "Two left."
Oddly the two darkspawn halted a few paces away. After a few moments of seeming indecision, they glanced at each other, grunted and turned around.
"There's luck ser. Cowardly darkspawn."
"Indeed." Nate stood still beside Gwyn watching the two survivors run away. "I've never seen darkspawn run away before."
"You ever kill this many on your own before?" His head shook. "We scared them. Reckon they might think we're demons."
"Perhaps they do." As certain as he could be they were safe, Nate jumped lightly down off the ledge and into the cave proper. "Collect your arrows Gwyn, we may need them."
"Yes ser." It was a bloody task but worth the effort. Every arrow tugged from a body sprayed blood in her face. It was thick and black and tasted as vile as she remembered. "I'll need an ale after this."
"We both will." Nate had the advantage of height and longer arms, so didn't get quite as messy as his elven companion. "You should wash that off. Its poison." She glanced at him then back at the body she was standing over. "Gwyn?"
"Its alright ser." She flinched when he swore at her. "Too late for that Commander."
"Apparently so." Abandoning the arrows he straightened to glare at her properly. "I thought we'd decided you weren't interested in becoming a warden?"
A long sentence from Nate was never good. "
You decided.
Alistair decided. My decision was different." And taken for good reasons. Very good reasons.
"You're a child! You can't." He stopped on a curse when she threw a darkspawn helm at him. "Don't throw things at me!"
"I am not a child! I travelled across Thedas, fought off pirates, slavers,darkspawn and Qunari! I think have the right to decide whether I want to be a Warden."
"You. Fine! Its too late to reason with you I suppose." He hadn't wanted this for her. This, death sentence. Not when it wasn't necessary, not when there wasn't a Blight. "What was Alistair thinking!? I knew he was an idiot. I shouldn't have let you go with him."
Gwyn swore, then threw another helmet at him. "Don't call Alistair an idiot!"
"He obviously is an idiot or he would have stopped you!" He dodged another missile, this time a shield.
"And you didn't let me do anything! I wanted to go and I went." The sound of his disbelieving snort sent her across the cave to glare up into his face. "Don't you dare!"
"Don't yell at me!" She growled instead. "I. Oh for the Maker's sake." When she growled again Nate lost control of himself and laughed. "You sound like a mabari."
"Funny ser." Watching him laugh, Gwyn felt her own humour surface. "I scared an assassin off by growling at him. In the Free Marches. Zev said he must have been afraid I was rabid." Now her anger was gone, she thought about why he was annoyed. "I know you want to protect me, Nate. You can't."
That killed his good humour. "That doesn't stop me wanting to." He'd managed to avoid looking at her since she'd come back. Really looking at her. "You've grown up Gwyn."
"Yes ser." She let him lift her chin, reminded of when she had been young and he'd spent a good amount of time protecting her. From herself usually. "I'm old now."
"Hardly that. You were only gone four years." Her face might have changed, a little, but those eyes were the same. Sombre and bottomless, they'd tugged at him since the first time he'd looked into them. "No wrinkles yet."
"No ser." Gwyn didn't blink, couldn't, when he slowly bent towards her. He couldn't possibly be going to kiss her, could he?
Yes, he could.
Modifié par Avilia, 18 décembre 2010 - 05:52 .