Chapter Ten

The days blended in together for Fenris. He always woke up near high noon and fell asleep shortly after nightfall. The stormy clouds and thick jungle overgrowth did little to help him decipher the division of days. Only when everything turned dark did he realize a day had passed.

He and Kallian fell into a routine fairly quickly, which wasn't hard to do considering they spent most of their time confined to their tent. Well, at least Fenris did. For the most of the week, they spent their days making potions, draughts, and poultices to add to the Fog warriors' stockpile. He could not shake the feeling something important, something big, was looming upon them but he didn't voice it since the chores gave them something to do with all their free time. His only gripe was the rain, which persisted much longer than he had expected and was the sole reason he was still cooped up in their tent. Both Kallian and Ezra insisted he simply relax and enjoy the pampering treatment.

When they weren't working on alchemy, they cleaned gear and sharpened weapons. All types of activities one does when they are 'taking it easy.' Kallian excelled at most of their chores with the exception of mending socks… and shirts… and trousers and other linens. He spent most of that particular day fixing her errors. He hadn't minded since she'd brought him candied ginger to snack on while he worked.

Most of his gripes were easily ceased by the food Kallian brought him each and every day despite his protests of fetching them himself. She was unrelenting and insisted it was her responsibility to take care of him on Ezra's orders, of course. In between their activities, she piled him with exotic pastries and meal spreads far more tantalizing than anything served in Danarius' estate.

Fenris found himself waking up to succulent smells daily. Long gone were the rituals of smoke and spice by mid-week. Instead, he woke up greeted to sweet rolls baked fresh that morning and infused with black berries or crushed almonds and glazed with honey or accompanied with a cinnamon sweet butter to spread. While they worked, she showered him with candies or sweet dates and figs to nibble on, and for supper he enjoyed roasted or braised meats, skewered vegetables, and sometimes thick stews steamed with lemongrass and curry and tamarind. Surprisingly delicious smelling and delightful to eat.

He was eating well. Better than well. He was thoroughly well-fed each and every day, far more than he had ever expected to eat in his lifetime, sampling a cuisine that was both foreign and satisfying.

She was killing him through gluttony. Kindness andgluttony. He was definitely sure of it now.

Each meal, Fenris ate to his heart's content, till the laces of his trousers needed to be loosened because as soon as he cleared his plateful, Kallian would swiftly filled it again with more helpings and who was he to say no? His frame even filled out more. There was a round plumpness to his cheeks and frame that he'd never seen before; the feeling of being satiated still new to him. He could no longer get away with scarfing down his meals in a hurry. She chided him to slow down and savor new flavors and textures, to try and shake away the beaten-in instinct to eat quickly or be punished otherwise.

At times, she brought him new fruits, like the pineapple and coconut he had sampled last week, to snack on along with the pastries and candies. He could tell she relished in his wary behavior and cautious approach to the exotic. So she teased him about it.

"You're cute when you squirm about," Kallian had said with a wolfish grin, handing him a plateful of orange colored fruit chunks. She'd peeled its green and red skin with a swift flick of her knife and discarded the oblong stone pits in separate vase. "You make the funniest faces sometimes, Fenris."

"Why are you saving the seed?" He asked, ignoring her observation. "For more oil, I presume?" That was meant to be sarcastic but Kallian had thrown her head back in a hearty laugh deflecting his tone.

"Yes! How'd you know?" She excitedly exclaimed. "They'll press them for oil and store it in jars for trade later, whenever we'll reach Seheron. Apparently it's quite popular in Antiva where the air is dry and days are long and hot."

He quirked a brow, hastily stuffing his mouth full of mango fruit. Long and hot. Oh Maker.

In an attempt to rid his mind of such lecherous thoughts, Fenris immersed himself in the day's chores.

That very same evening she'd somehow managed to conjure a steaming mug of hot cocoa topped with whipped cream instead of his daily prescription of tea. He accepted it with the same caution and delightful curiosity he had for all their meals, eyeing particularly at the dollop of cream that was melting into the rich cocoa liquid in milky white rivulets.

"Our little secret," she whispered, winking at him and bringing a finger to press against her pretty little mouth. He didn't even realize he had been staring at it till she made such a small motion.

Anxious to occupy his mouth and prevent something foolish from being blurted out, Fenris dug in, mouthwatering, and took a large hot gulp of the steaming liquid. He managed to scald his tongue and smear the cream on his nose at the same time, adding all the more to the humiliation he felt.

Kallian laughed at him not in a malicious or cruel way but rather bemused and playfully. He spun curses in his native Tevinter tongue as his mouth hung agape to cool off his burnt tongue. Distracted by the mild stinging pain, he allowed her to take his mug from his hands and set it aside. He all but glared at her when she brought a hand up to wipe the smear of cream away from the tip of his nose. And without thinking, Kallian brought the cream to her lips and licked it clean off her finger, promptly dissolving all coherent thought from his mind.

The anger dissipated, smoldering into flushed embarrassment. He turned an unusually deep shade of crimson and looked away, coughing awkwardly as he moved to lie down on his bed roll. His mind instantly wandered to earlier that day when she had brought him a basket full of mangos, and then peeled and served them to him.

"They'll press them for oil," she had said.

Mmm… oil. Sweet and fragrant. Slick on skin. Glistening in the hot Antivan sun.

Fenris gulped thickly again, shaking his head to chase away the lewd images flooding his mind. He scolded himself instantly. Such thoughts, such desires were not permitted of a slave. Pleasure, happiness, aspiration; all notions taboo and forbidden for elves of his stature.

Ah, but then again he was no longer a slave, was he? How could he still be? Danarius hadn't come for him after all. Yet, anyways. He kept that thought tucked away at the back of his mind still.

His nose twitched, the ghost of her touch lingering at the tip of it. It spurned more racing thoughts, though of less salacious nature. Lying on his side and facing away from her, he pondered on the same questions without answers that he'd been thinking on since he'd met her. Why does she do all of this? Why does she insist on taking care of him, feeding him delicious food, tending to his wellbeing? She was dangerously treading the fine line of selflessness and downright foolish, being criminally helpful.

She was kind, too kind. A person like that isn't without secrets or demons of their own, and he had yet to uncover them. He wasn't sure if he wanted to. It could shatter the almost perfect (though he'd never admit it aloud, much less to himself) image of her that he cherished and again, he'd never admit that aloud.

He wondered time and again how she does it, how she maintained a smile in such a bleak, gloomy world? But he knew the answer to that. She had faith, and hope, and family. Things he never had but could somewhat start to see, start to understand. Like a glimmer of light at the end of a very long, treacherous tunnel.

After some time feigning sleep and waiting for her to blow out the light to the lamp, Fenris sat up and picked up his untouched mug of hot cocoa. It was cool now, no longer scalding, but not yet cold. And because she wasn't looking, he drank it down quickly and quietly not wanting the treat to go to waste.

Fenris savored it like it was the last beverage he'd ever drink, just like he savored every meal she served him, every sweet roll she brought him each morning, and all the fruit and candy she introduced him to.

That night Fenris didn't sleep well, and slipped in and out of the Fade every hour or so.

There were butterflies fluttering in his gut but he didn't feel sick or queasy. He felt warm and cold at the same time but definitely not sick or feverish, and he had a sneaking suspicion that his terrible night's rest was due to the fact that he'd skipped out on last evening's medicine.

Hours later, he heard rustling next to him. It was still dark but he figured it must have been morning time and Kallian was stirring awake. A thought struck him. At last, he could catch her before she left and see where she spent her mornings, and especially where she recovered the delicacies he adored feasting on.

He could make out her outline faintly in the dark, and watched as she pulled on layers of clothing and moved about to fix her bed roll and furs. She was almost out of the tent when he called out to stop her with a half groan, half yawn.

"Good morning," he greeted, trying desperately not to sound anxious and sleepy.

It was too dark to see her expression though he was sure it was probably surprised and guilty by the tone in her voice.

"Oh I'm sorry Fenris," she whispered back. "Did I wake you up?"

No. I've been awake all night. I couldn't sleep. Because of you.

"Where are you going?" He asked, unable to shake the almost instinctual feeling of suspicion creeping up on him.

Fenris, you are being unnecessarily paranoid.

No, Fenris, she could be up to something.

Shut up.

Kallian made a face he couldn't see and hurriedly replied, "Oh, um, morning chores. Off to see Ezra and fetch some breakfast."

"Chores? What chores?" This caught Fenris by surprise which washed over into guilt as she went on to explain how every morning since their arrival she had been woken up far too early for her comfort due to the persistent showers. To occupy her abundant free time, she ventured towards the center of their little tent village and was 'taken in', so to speak, by the Fog warrior matriarchs.

Kallian went on to describe how each morning she would help them with their morning duties, such as herb picking, crop harvesting, laundry washing, and meal cooking, and that before returning to Fenris with a meal tray, she would seek out Namir for a chore for him to do – figuring that Fenris would be bored out of his mind without something to occupy his time with.

Much to his chagrin, he was grateful for her consideration. It would have driven him insane being cooped up in tent with nothing to do. The little chores she brought for him made him feel useful. Her confession of the rainfall causing her unease was both comforting and startling too. He hadn't thought a little bit of pitter patter made her restless; he had always assumed she was a heavy sleeper since their first night together.

Her revelation made him feel lazy and guilty for not pulling his own weight even though she had maintained many times that he was doing enough, just fine, and should just 'take it easy.' It wasn't something Fenris could stand for any longer.

"Take me with you. I would like to help," he finally answered after a long pause, determined to be of more use.

There was some shuffling. Kallian shifted on her feet, the corners of her mouth were pulled down. "No, it's alright," she insisted, "You don't –"

He interrupted her with simple words, "I want to." It wasn't fair, he thought, that she did nearly twice the amount of work as him, tended to his injury, and fetched his meals for him like he was a toddler; if only he had been this lucky and well cared for as a toddler, not that he remembered anyways.

Kallian cringed a little, even in the dark Fenris could read the discomfort in the lines of her eyes. It caught him off guard. Was there something she wasn't telling him? Was there more to what she had already divulged? He raised a brow, both bewildered and somewhat offended by her reaction.

"What?" He demanded.

She cringed again and made a squeaky noise that sounded like, "Ehhhh… Umm…"

He demanded again, this time more firmly.

Kallian reached around her neck, scratching her shoulders, and fidgeting in her spot nervously. She shifted her eyes, looking anywhere but directly at him and nibbled on her lower lip as she searched for the right words… the appropriate words to answer him.

"Well… I didn't quite take you as a… a social butterfly? Are you sure you wouldn't be more comfortable here? Where it's nice and warm… and dry…" The tone in her voice was terribly unconvincing, trailing off at the end like that. Her words nipped at Fenris; it felt strangely insulting and he was not one easily insulted.

He huffed in exasperation, jutting his chin out and scowling. "I can be sociable," he briskly countered, trying not to sound as nervous as he was feeling.

She shrugged her shoulders, reluctantly agreeing to his request. With a silent nod, she beckoned to him to get ready and walked outside to wait for him.

It took him little time to pull on an extra shirt. Out of the furs, he hadn't realized how much chillier it was in the morning time. The sun had barely risen; it was still dark outside save for the burning light that flickered in between tents from the center of the camp. It rose high and roared fierce in spite of the morning dew and dusk's drizzle. Fenris rubbed the tired from his eyes as Kallian dragged him towards the center, towards the light. He eyed the shadows warily, peering up at the tree tops and around the outskirts of their camp situated in the thick of the jungle.

The distance between them and the fire was short. Its blinding light strained his tired eyes. He could hear rustling and the soft whispers of feminine voices, both young and old, gathered in and around a particularly large tent house. Kallian entered first, leading him in by holding the flap open.

"Kallian! What took you so long? We've been waiting for you–"

The moment Fenris stepped over the threshold, there was a hush of silence as everyone ceased their activities to look up and stare at him. He swore he heard a wolf-whistle from somewhere deep in the corner.

They were staring at him, at his tattoos, at his ghost-white hair, at the fact that he was the only male in the room. They stared at him for what seemed like an eternity before a bronzed amazon with curly dark hair stepped forward wearing a grin that seemed all too familiar and mischievous.

She reached out and placed a palm on Kallian's shoulder, giving the pixie elf a brief amiable shake. "Finally Kallian, you've brought the hermit out of his shell. We had begun to think we'd never catch a glimpse of your husband you keep so well-hid away," she declared in a deep sultry voice that made the hairs on the back of Fenris' neck prickle.

At the mention of the word husband, Kallian chortled, choking on a rapid intake of air.

Fenris replied for her, "We're not married."

The Fog warrioress glanced down at their hands, eyes glinting when she realized there was an absence of rings on their fingers. "Oh," she responded. "Sorry, I didn't see the resemblance."

That was a lie. There was little resemblance between Fenris and Kallian, except for the fact that they were both elves and not even from the same nations. "We're not siblings either," he tersely countered, shooting a sideways glance at Kallian who'd been curiously silent throughout the exchange.

A sharp nudge at her ribs from the Fog warrior's elbow shook her out of her reverie. The simply gesture prompted Kallian to finally speak up, nudging back at the dusky woman with her own elbow. "Ziva!" She exclaimed. "How many times have I told you? We're just travelling together!"

Fenris raised a surprised brow at Kallian. You talk about me?

She hid from him, deliberately shifting her body to avoid his gaze. He was shocked, speechless even. What does one say or do in a situation like this? Should he have been… flattered? Ziva, the Fog warrior-amazon woman laughed, loud and boisterous, clapping her large hand down on Kallian's back. "I jest, I jest!" She turned to Fenris, winking at him with that all too familiar toothy grin. "It's nice to finally meet you, Fenris, is it? Welcome."

The only appropriate response Fenris could come up with was to simply nod. Another sideways glance to Kallian revealed she was still turned away from him, probably blushing furiously or fuming with embarrassment at Ziva, or perhaps both. Her curt voice cut through the laughter rumbling throughout the hall, her mild disdain dripping thickly in her tone. "Alright, alright. Ha. Ha. Now that we've all had a good laugh at my expense, let's get on with the harvest before the rain drowns us all, yeah?" Kallian made a sour face that Fenris didn't catch but he did notice the scowling expression Ziva made behind her back.

A/N: Sorry for the long wait.

Many thanks to Billini, FeZeTh13, Leeirane, and Jakob the Girl for the kind reviews, and to everyone who has favourited or alerted this story.