Her Destiny Lies Elsewhere | By : TheStarvingArtist Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 7181 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN DRAGON AGE. This is a work of fiction, and I make no money from it. This fic contains dialogue from the game. |
Author's Note: So yaaaaaaay, this is done! (It's only about half the chapter I planned... soooo here's to the hilarity that will come with chapter ten! And it will be hilarity, trust me.)
Yay, more Krem, more Bull, more Kaaras! And more Cole! I love writing Cole-speak...
Review Replies:
Rhino—Heehee, awwww, you don't like Johnny? That's okay, no one likes the knickerweasel. And yeah, when I initially designed them, it was coincidental that they looked similar, and then I decided to just run with it. It does make for a very interesting dynamic. The Nuggalope is my favorite mount, followed by the Dracolisks. Kaaras will be around for a long time, so no worries there.
As always, enjoy!
**This fic contains many quotes and much dialogue straight from the game.**
Chapter Nine
Not As Planned
The wind howled outside the tent, throwing ice and snow about the camp as nearly everyone tried to settle in for the night. They had managed to flee far and fast enough that the remaining Red Templars were unable to chase them down, and miles of ice and snow lay between them and the remains of Haven now. They were safe for now, but many wondered at what cost.
Sitting in their tent, Josephine watched as Cassandra began to suit up to head back out into the storm. It was nearly dawn now, and they had found no sign yet of any more survivors. The troops were growing weary, but many refused to sit it out, believing the Herald was still out there. Even Josephine held tightly to that hope, but the longer they went, the less likely it felt they might find her.
She did not argue when the Seeker simply ducked out of the tent, only calling after her to be careful before she secured the tent flaps again. Shivering inwardly at the rush of colder air, she pulled her heavy furs tighter around her before climbing into her bedroll, seeking any tiny measure of warmth she could find. She hated to think of willowy Rio out in this weather—the young woman had never endured a true Ferelden blizzard, and she'd been left out there with only a moderate coat to shield her from the elements. Josephine felt a chill pass through her before trying to push her thoughts aside. She would need rest, the morning would bring new problems and questions, and they needed to be ready for them...
Across the camp, Cullen and Leliana were faring little better, pouring over a map of the area as they tried to determine what sections had been searched, what ones had not, and any hidden places for the enemy, or even the Herald, to hide. The scouts were optimistic that Rio could pull through, Thanduil pointing out several winding caves beneath Haven could've easily sheltered her, and she could just be waiting for a rescue. Efforts were well under way to try to locate each of them safely, but the storm slowed them down and made matters worse. Tempers flared and ebbed, but hope suffered the most as their progress seemed continually hindered by every little thing.
Many huddled close around small fires, tending to the injuries and wounds of others, offering comfort and solace where they could, eager to keep the hope alive. The Herald had to be out there still, they said. She would return to them, as the threat was not yet gone. They just needed to believe... Stories were shared to raise weary spirits, to give hope and strength where it was needed most. Songs drifted on the wind through camp as a bard sought to bring a smile to the people who listened. Believe, the bard's voice implored to the tired refugees, for the Herald, for all of us.
Their song drifted through the camp to where the Iron Bull, several of the Chargers, a half-dozen soldiers were getting ready to head out. The last wave of scouts were returning with no better news than they'd had all night, and with dawn approaching, they hoped to find something with the slowly growing light. One scout reported that it had looked like a flare had gone up once, but they couldn't get a good bead on it before the storm swallowed it, and that gave Bull hope. He remembered back to the last time he'd seen Rio, remembered her pack slung over her shoulder, and even remembered helping her keep it organized. Emergency supplies, she'd called them, and while some of it had been obvious, bandages, gloves, small tubes of salve, the rest of it wasn't, a little clear bag with small colored tablets, a small orange and black contraption, and something marked “fire blanket”, but she insisted that it all had its uses.
She would be all right, he told himself. She could handle herself until they found her. She was made of tougher stuff—it would take more than an avalanche to take down Rio. Still, he had to push aside the other memories, flashes of her eyes looking up at him with hope, with pain, with tears and sadness. He had to bury the memories of her eyes begging him to trust her, to believe the lie, even when he knew what she was going to do. He needed to tell himself again that she would wait for them to come and find her, and that she would be right there waiting...
A thin boy with ragged blonde hair watched them ride from the camp, raising his head just enough to see them silhouetted against the darkness beyond before they melted away, off in search of their wayward Herald. He said nothing, simply watching them go, and then watching the darkness for a long time afterwards, silence echoing as he stood there, songs and stories and .
He waited, and he listened.
* * *
Pain hit her first, and it hit hard. Each breath made her chest hurt, and more than once the blackness washed over her again as she tried to keep herself awake. She couldn't tell how much time passed, her eyes drifting closed again as heavy snowflakes fell around her were she lay. When she finally came to for more than a minute, she couldn't help groaning, blue-gold eyes looking around the cavern as she lay still for a long time, feeling the cold biting in her lungs.
She was slow to get back to her feet again, struggling to roll herself onto her side as she shivered all over. Pushing herself to her knees, she looked up and spied the hole she'd fallen through, almost covered in snow and a long way up. Thick snowflakes flurried around her as she watched her breath mist before her, eyes distant as she struggled to focus. Her head hurt, and it was hard to think clearly as she reached up to lightly run a hand through her hair. Looking up again, she forced herself to look at the sky, measuring the shade of dark, angry grey as the wind howled through the opening. When that got her nowhere, she groaned, hugging herself tightly as she muttered, “So much for a celebration... Wonder how long I’ve been down here...” Reaching up to touch the knot on the back of her head, she tried to focus on what she should do, her head still spinning as she tried to work out what had happened.
There was fire, and screaming, and that grating voice that rang in her head. A shape in the darkness, burst of flame—a dragon. “Of course there was a dragon,” she grumbled to herself, shaking her head. Slowly, she started to piece things together: the trebuchet, loaded and ready to go; shouting for the others to go, to run; more explosions… Rubbing her forehead again, she lightly touched the bruise that throbbed there. Bull and Blackwall had fought her on it, she definitely remembered that. She’d had to push them towards the trail and order them to go. “I have a plan, I’ll be fine!” she remembered yelling at them both to silence their arguments, shoving her staff into Bull’s hands as she pushed them on. Solas had said little to try to stop her, only frowning before he turned to follow the others, while Dorian was almost as difficult as the warriors to convince, but nothing would have changed her mind.
She had lied to them, bold-faced and so sure of herself, but there was no other way... The dragon out there and this Elder One had wanted her, and they would have stopped at nothing to get her.
She remembered losing her nerve when she faced the Elder One at last. Corypheus, his name had been, the name grating in her head as much as his voice had. Remnants of fear shot through her as she remembered that voice, shaking her head again as she tried to push it down. He’d picked her up and tossed her like he might fling a doll, and she couldn’t so much as stop him. Even her spirited kick hadn't done anything beyond make the creature even more pissed.
She'd had a stroke of luck, though, when he threw her at the trebuchet. Rubbing her forehead, she sighed again, remembering her grin of triumph. She laughed in the face of danger, they’ll say, she thought to herself as she looked around where she’d landed. She had launched the rock without a real thought as to how she would make it out—surviving wasn’t at the forefront of her mind until she'd turned to run, feeling that wall of ice and snow fast-approaching. Luck alone had been the only reason she fell into the cavern, and even now, that luck was fading fast as she looked around her again, cringing.
She would have been okay with it ending in that valley, right then and there... She had done what had been asked of her—seal the rifts, heal the Breach, and stop the war. Hell, she'd even done the extra credit and tried to save everyone in Haven. Her job was done, and yet, here she was...
Starting to get up, she stumbled, falling to her knees as her left ankle gave out. As she landed, she found her own pack in the corner, the strap broken, its contents tumbled out. She crawled over to it, flinching when she saw the broken vials. So much for potions, she thought to herself, pulling out the dry bandages and medical tape as she tried to take stock of everything that hurt.
Her ribs were worst, but there wasn’t much she could do about them. She wasn’t bleeding from it though, and she wasn’t drowning in fluids, so probably just bruised, maybe a little cracked. Her ankles hurt, but nothing broken there. Taking off one boot, she felt the sprain in her left ankle and started the hard work of wrapping it. After a couple of tries, she managed to pull her boot back on, testing the other foot gingerly. When only the one seemed to hurt, she checked her arms next. A few bruises and scrapes from fighting the Templars, but none the worse for wear. She shivered again in the cold and reached into the pack to pull out the emergency gloves. They’d just been cheap ones she’d found at the store, but they were better than nothing. Pulling them on, she tucked them down into her bracers before taping up the tips to keep some kind of grip.
Picking through the stash of pills she had tucked in a plastic bag, she took a sip of water from the small waterskin on her belt, quickly swallowing a couple of painkillers. Every little bit would help with the pain, she told herself. Slipping the skin into the inner lining of her jacket, she made sure it was tightly secured before tucking the rest of the pills into a small pouch on her belt. Unwrapping her sash, she adjusted her coat and buttoned it closed up to her chin. Taking the sash, she started to wrap it around her head, fashioning a makeshift scarf and hood as she braced herself to face the cold, careful to make sure her ears were sufficiently covered.
Rising gingerly to her feet, she gathered the last of the gauze and little bit of supplies she could, slipping it into her coat. The last thing she grabbed was the flare gun and emergency blanket, smiling a little. They had been an impulse grab at the time, but it was proving to be a great idea. If she could flag a scout down, maybe she wouldn’t be out in the cold for long...
Stumbling down the corridor, Rio hugged herself as she tried not to think about what else lived in the caves. Thankfully, nothing leapt out at her as she made her way out, finding an open passageway and staring in silence out at the scene before her.
She must’ve been somewhere near Haven still, but there was hardly a sign of it. Here or there, debris poked out of the snow, a wagon here, a wheel there, but nothing telling her which way to go. Her heart sank as she leaned against the stone, eyes scanning the distant horizon for something, any kind of sign to keep going.
Her eyes lit up as she caught sight of a faint rosy glow between two peaks, and she felt her hopes rise as she reached for the flare-gun. Raising it high, she quickly pulled the trigger, the bright red flare lighting the area around her with a faint crack that she could barely hear over the wind. She held her breath for a second before she swore loudly, shouting into the storm in her frustration before flinging the flare gun back down the cave's dark path. Why had she just shot into a storm?! They weren’t going to be able to see it, not at that distance, and they certainly wouldn’t send scouts in this weather. She sighed softly as she felt her hope diminish, realizing there had only been one flare in her pack. Staring forlornly across the snow, she resolved herself to make her way out when the storm stopped and just camp out near the cave's entrance until then...
A roar from inside the cave changed her mind with that, Rio shooting out of there like cannon-fire. A hundred feet away, she debated if she should go back, but when she looked over her shoulder and saw the rage demon roaring at the cold, kept at bay by the wind, she made up her mind. Turning again, she set her sights on the bright halo and started to walk, praying it wasn't the Red Templars' camp.
She didn’t know how long she walked through the storm, but her stumbling walk was soon down to a vaguely onward shuffle. Everything ached, each snowflake hitting her face felt like a needle that melted and chilled her further. More than once, she had to stop to gather the strength to trudge on, telling herself to just keep going, keep moving, one foot in front of the other foot in front of the other foot, keep walking...
She gave a silent prayer to the snow that she wasn’t too far behind everyone when she lost sight of the rosy glow, hoping as hard as she could that she was at least going in the right direction. Trudging onward through the snow, she found each step harder and harder to take, the ice building up on her pale eyelashes and freezing her from head to toe until she couldn't remember what it was like to be warm.
She didn’t know how long she walked, only knowing that at the edge of her mind that she had to keep going. Even with her heavy coat tight around her, she was chilled to the bone, and she struggled to keep her head up as she walked. She tried to think of warm things, hot cocoa, tea, soup, even tried once to summon a tiny flame, but it had snuffed out before she’d even gotten a couple of feet. She started to stumble more, falling into the snow a couple of times before she finally had to stop, the snow threatening to bury her as she fought the urge to get up again. The pain in her ribs met with the pain in her legs and was amplified as she had trekked, and she couldn’t take it anymore. The snow was nearly thigh-deep now, and she had better luck almost crawling through it. Standing now, she looked around her as she tried to see through the storm, stars, constellations, the moon—she desperately needed something to help find her way.
Looking back over her shoulder, she couldn’t even see her trail through the snow save for a few feet behind. Her shoulders slumped, sighing breathlessly. She needed to get out of the wind, out of the cold...
Shivers danced down her spine before she looked down at the snow, starting to kneel, digging herself a little hole. She needed to rest, and she would get nowhere with the snow berating her. Tired hands pawed and pushed the snow, managing to carefully pack it together. With a small spell, she layered the inside of her little hole with ice, settling down in her little hole as she closed her eyes.
She just needed to rest... She could keep going once she had her strength back, then she could keep going. Just a little nap... she told herself before slipping into red-tinged nightmares.
***They’d been out of danger for nearly two days now. When the storm lessened to a gentle snowfall, they redoubled their efforts to search for the Herald, but no matter how hard or far they searched, they did not find her. Caves had been searched and cleared—one in particular had been promising, with a scorched pack and shattered potion vials and the strange contraption from Rio's bag, but no Rio. They had taken out the rage demon that was in the cave and were thankful when there had been no sign that Rio had fallen prey to it. However, that meant that somewhere between the camp and that cave, Rio had disappeared. Solas could find no lingering rift magic anywhere, so she hadn't gone through a rift, but the trail was long-cold by the time night fell on them again and they made no headway. Bull and the others had gone out multiple times with each of the search parties, desperate to keep hope. Rio was resourceful, Blackwall had said more than once. “She’s still out there,” Dorian insisted as he had mounted up that morning, “I’ll only believe she’s gone when we find proof otherwise.”Each search turned up less and less until finally nothing, and he saw the hope slowly fading in the troops. Even his own Chargers had a hard time keeping the hope that she was alive out there. After a second search since that morning, he fell onto his cot to get a minute or two of rest, slipping almost immediately into sleep.
He wished he could stop seeing her standing there, practically unarmed and defenseless, trapped between a Darkspawn and an archdemon, but the dream refused to leave him be as it played again for his torment. He started to jerk himself out of it again as she launched the boulder, his eye fluttering for a moment before he started to drift back to sleep once more, slowly slipping into the grips of dreams again. Again and again he saw it, from a hundred different angles until he thought he would go mad from it. Each time she fell, he fought the dream, pushing against it, determined not to let it happen again before it looped back and started again, holding him captive in his torment.
She had been barely able to control spells with her staff, let alone bare-handed, but when she’d pushed the grip of the staff into his hand and gave him that look, he had some hope she might have come up with some kind of backup plan. She hadn’t, of course, but that hadn’t stopped her from doing what needed to be done, despite what it cost her.
Still, he told himself, he couldn’t help feeling responsible. They had all looked like they held some weight of the loss, seeing the Herald fall with Haven, but it burned the worst with Bull. He remembered taking the scout’s scope to see what was going on, but he’d barely been able to make out anything, the dragon was in the way, and he worried that she wasn’t going to be able to launch the trebuchet after the flare went up. He felt relief when the rock had been loosed, and then, as the snow came barreling down and buried Haven, they all felt the fear that seized them tight in their hearts. Just like that, the Herald—Rio—was lost.
She had been his boss. More than that, she had been a friend, curious and insightful, full of ideas, even when she didn't think she was. She had trusted him to keep her safe after everything she had been through, the torments and pain... Even when the dream faded and his eye opened blearily, he could clearly remember those blue-gold eyes looking up at him with absolute faith shining in those depths.
It had been that way since Redcliffe, since she’d disappeared in a puff of smoke and ash before she stepped out of nowhere, an unwavering conviction echoing in her voice as she stood victorious before Alexius without so much as raising her staff. Later, when she crumbled and told them what she had seen, the red lyrium, how it was grown and mined, when she fought sleep because the dreams haunted her, she had trusted him to keep her safe. She had trusted them all, and they had all failed...
He slipped under again, letting sleep wash over him as he twitched slightly, willing himself to see something different, anything...
Red-washed visions gave way to a stark black and silver dream, and he couldn't help the shiver that worked its way up his spine. All around him, he could feel cold snow, ice pressing against his back, a deep ache in his ribs and back, shooting pains through his legs... Opening his eye in his dream, he felt the world slip into focus. There, huddled in a small space, was Rio, who shivered, lips tinged blue as she weakly fought to wake herself. The deep furrows between her eyebrows were back, face pale as she gasped for breath. Tears clung to her eyelashes and ran down her cheeks as she hugged herself tightly, wrapped in a shiny looking blanket as she whimpered. She looked terrible, exhausted and beaten, like she'd just crawled into a hole and given up...
Bull clung to that dream, the thought giving him hope that she might be out there still, but it slipped away before he could stop it, something startling him awake as he stared blankly up at the roof of the tent. Blinking groggily as his senses normalized to the world around him, he reached up to rub his face, starting to sit up. Been pushing too hard, he told himself, trying to push the image of a half-frozen Rio from his mind...
“She is cold...” a voice said gently, making him look up to find that strange boy standing just outside his tent, leaning against the support pole. “Shaking, shivering, sheltered, but too sheltering...” he said, his voice soft, urgent, yet gentle, and he turned to Bull, clear-blue eyes looking at him from under a wide-brimmed hat. It reminded Bull of the hat that Rio wore sometimes...
Pushing the thought aside, Bull grunted, starting to get up again as the boy turned to look at something in the distance. Pulling his boots back on, he almost jumped when the boy was suddenly at his side, trying to figure out how he'd moved when the boy said, “Can't you hear her? She's screaming, shouting, shivering... Red-laced dreams, can't wake up, too cold...” His voice trailed off, sad and almost pained before looking up at Bull again, reaching out to him, “Please, no one will listen... they can’t hear her, but she’s still there...”
Moving quickly away from the strange kid, he frowned as he said nothing more, only watching him as he quickly made his way from the tent. Something about the kid’s eyes made him uneasy as he stared at him, unblinking, but something in the things he said...
Looking away from the kid as he started to walk around, he felt the thoughts start to stir in his head even as the memory of the boy faded again. Something in his words made his hope flare to life, but he wasn't about to go charging off into the ice and snow on a feeling. Brushing off what the boy said, Bull turned to make his way around camp. There was plenty to check on, and it did good to keep busy. He nodded at some of the Chargers as they waved. Krem, Grim and Dalish must've been out with the current search groups, the others huddled around a fire to keep warm. He didn't blame them, but needed to keep himself up, keep moving to quiet the voices in his head that told him to saddle up and ride, just one more time, one more look to be sure... Rio had been a little slow to keep up when she was tired, so she might just have been taking her sweet time...
Or, his mind supplied as he walked past the mess tent, she's buried under fifteen feet of snow...
He squelched that thought again as he approached the makeshift stables where the mounts had been tied. A snort brought him out of his reverie, drawing his gaze as a pink and grey muzzle pushed at him. He almost smiled as he reached out to affectionately pat the Nuggalope's head, brushing away the snow from his horns. Kaaras, Rio had called him. Her navigator.
He lightly scratched behind one of the giant nug's ears as he remembered how big her eyes had gotten when she found out what ten thousand royals bought her, and despite the looks she got when she rode the great beast, she proclaimed that it had been her best decision, and since then, they'd been nearly inseparable.
He felt a small twinge of sadness as he realized that the Nuggalope looked at him with large, questioning eyes, ears swiveling as he tried to look around the Qunari, as if he was hiding his mistress behind his back. Upon finding she was in fact not there, he looked at Bull and brayed angrily at him. “Oh, sure,” he said softly, patting his nose when the beast snorted at him, “blame me... it wasn't my fault she insisted to stay behind...”
The great beast bumped his snout hard into the Qunari’s hand, chittering at him before raising his head to look over the ridge where they had come. He stared intently up at that spot before looking at Bull and snorting again, ears flicking at him. Leaning back, he jerked hard on the lead tying him in place, straining as he tried to pull it free. Bull reached up to try to calm the Nuggalope, getting a nip at is hand for his trouble before Kaaras chittered at him before jerking his head back hard, pulling on his lead. It did this several times, trying to tell him something as he started to chew on the rope holding him. From the looks of things, he had been doing it for some time, and some more frayed rope nearby told him it was probably not the first lead he'd tried chewing through.
Reaching up to pull the rope from his mouth, Bull sighed, telling himself that he needed to stay, to wait until the scouts returned. Another nip from the Nuggalope drew his attention as the beast looked at him with those too-smart eyes. Groaning to himself, Bull unlooped the rope and pulled the gate open to let him out. He had to almost jump out of the way as the beast lunged out of the stall, stopping a short distance away to look back at Bull as if to ask him if he was coming or not. Bull frowned as the Nuggalope looked back to that far ridge again before looking at him and braying again at him impatiently.
Waving off the stablehand, he closed the stall, grabbing the saddle and blanket. He ignored the questioning looks he got as he pulled the bridle on the great beast, who was patient under the Qunari's hands. Quickly saddling him up and adjusting the straps for his longer legs, Bull mounted up and nudged Kaaras forward with a light nudge of his heels. Perhaps a ride would calm them both, just something to keep busy, to let the creature work off some energy and wear the Qunari down enough to sleep a little better...
Bull quickly grabbed the reins as Kaaras took off at a hard gallop, holding tight as he struggled to keep seated as they sped out of camp, up and over the ridge and across the open expanse of moonlight white. The snow was almost blinding as Kaaras rode hard, the cold biting at them, but nothing he did stopped the determined animal. Holding tightly to the reins, he told himself to just hang on for the ride and perhaps see where this would go.
They rode past the search party, Krem shouting a question after him, but they didn't stop. Even shouting at the beast to slow down and digging his heels in didn't seem to deter it. The Greater Nuggalope was quite content to do what he damn-well pleased as Kaaras ran on for a few miles, over another ridge and still on, though his path slowly veered to the left as Bull continued trying to talk sense into him. He started to wonder if the beast would ride all the way back to Haven when Kaaras gave a sharp bray and skidded to a stop, nearly sending Bull flying. Kaaras snorted, sinking a couple feet into the snow as he sniffed quietly at a snow drift.
Looking around, Bull frowned as he found himself greeted by nothing but snow and distant mountains, fresh snow swirling lazily around them. Now and again, the moon peaked between the clouds, bathing everything in a bright silver light. His frown deepened as he realized that instead of going just south, towards where Haven was, they'd also gone a bit west, and he wondered if the beast had only wanted them to get lost.
Looking down, he watched as the Nuggalope sniffed and snorted in the snow for a few moments before, without warning, shoving his head into a snowdrift and braying. He couldn't help it as he covered his face with one hand, groaning as he rubbed his eyes. “Shit,” he grumbled, sighing as he shook his head. “Can't believe it... got talked into following a stupid beast to go out and play in the snow... in the middle of nowhere... Stupid fucking nug...” Yanking on the reins, he clicked his tongue, trying to get Kaaras to turn around and head back, the Nuggalope shaking his head and braying again, shoving his head into the snow again.
“CHRIST ON A CRACKER!” he heard from the snowdrift, head lifting a little as his brow furrowed. Leaning around the Nuggalope's head, he almost couldn't believe his eye as a trembling hand appeared from the hole in the snowdrift, feeling and petting along Kaaras' snout as he heard, “K-Kaaras? Am... Am I dead?” He couldn't dismount fast enough as he heard a pitiful wail of “But if I'm dead, then y-you're dead, and I don't know if I can live with that!” Pushing Kaaras out of the way as the creature gave an excited bellow, Bull started to dig, crunching through a thick layer of ice to find, tucked in a tight ball, wrapped in something shiny and sprinkled with snow, was Rio, shivering and looking up at Bull with tears in her tired eyes.
“B-Bull?” she asked shakily before she reached for him, voice cracking as she struggled to climb out herself. Bull didn't wait that long, reaching down to slip his arms around her, pulling her out as she clung to him. Cradling her close, he let one hand slip into her hair, his other arm tucked under her legs as he held her tightly against him. Her cool face pressed into the hollow of his neck, the tips of her ears nearly frozen against his skin as he told himself that she was really there, that he had actually found her in time...
The grey and pink muzzle appeared over one shoulder as Kaaras gave a chittering sigh, getting her to look up with a weak chuckle. “There's.... my good boy...” she said tiredly as Bull turned to pull the saddle blanket out, tucking it around Rio as she pressed weakly against him, murmuring weakly, “All the carrots... when we get to camp, Kaaras... you earned them...”
* * *
The trek back was slow-going as Bull rode with Rio tucked into his arms, wrapped up as tightly as he could manage as the wind whipped at them. She didn’t seem to care that nearly every other step jostled her, burrowing into his arms as she shivered, only faint groans escaping when pain jolted over her ribs. She had both arms and legs wrapped around him, practically straddling him as she clung to him. It felt like it took forever for her shivering to calm down. When she started to radiate her own warmth again, Bull's worries eased. He could feel her small movements against him and realized she could still move all of her limbs—she simply opted to stay as close as she could to him.
The wind picked up as they crested the ridge, hitting Bull hard in the face as Kaaras tried to take it nice and easy. One arm held the blanket around her, the other supporting her backside and holding tightly to the reins, though it seemed Kaaras had things in hand as the moonlight poured silver light around them. The only time Rio seemed to really move was to pull off her gloves and toss them away, cool fingers pressing against his chest as she drew on his warmth.
It took some time, but Rio managed to finally get herself comfortable against him, her hips rocking slightly against him in time with Kaaras' careful strides. More than once, her hips pressed hard against his, grinding ever so gently against him. He could feel her warmth there, her body pressing against his and creating a slight, but rather delicious friction. He rumbled low in his chest as he felt the heat pool there, shifting his hand on her shapely rear to shift her against him. She gave a groan and hiss in protest of being moved, but she soon settled again, holding her as carefully as he could manage to keep his focus on keeping them in the saddle.
Passing over the next ridge, Bull tucked the blanket around her again when the wind caught it, Rio protesting at the draft as she shuddered in his arms. Chuckling low, Bull urged Kaaras on, knowing camp wasn’t far off now. As the snow finally stopped, he was able to spot a few of the search team nearby. One of them, Krem, shouted a question that was lost on the wind, though the gesture was pretty clear. Where did you go? He managed a responding shout, raising his arm to signal them over, the blanket falling away again as Rio gave a yelp of protest as her head and shoulders were uncovered again. Krem and the scouts only hesitated a moment before they scrambled across the field of white towards them, the lieutenant yanking his helmet off and keep running, armor glinting in the moonlight as he quickly closed the gap, the scouts just behind.
Bull drew Kaaras to a stop as Rio continued to protest, looking around tiredly as she tried to bring the blanket back up over her head with a loud groan, “I could do without being refrozen, thank you! Some of us are not Qunari!”
Krem reached them first, skidding to a stop next to them, drawing Rio’s tired attention as she blinked down at him, Krem’s smile lighting up his face as he realized it was definitely the Herald, battered, bruised, a little burned, but alive. “Krem!” she said happily, smiling wearily as she realized who it was, the other scouts gathering close as more rushed to join them. “Thank god, I was worried that... well...” She shrugged off the end of her statement as though it was nothing, though the look in her eyes said it was a lot more than nothing.
“Where was she?” Krem asked as Rio leaned into Bull again, closing her eyes as she rested her forehead against his chest.
Bull gave a soft grunt, jerking his head back the way they had come. “Back that way a couple of miles, buried in a snow drift...”
Fawn eyes narrowd a little at Bull, a small smirk crossing his face. “... And in all that snow... you managed to find her?”
“Kaaras found me,” Rio piped up, reaching back to lovingly pat the Nuggalope's neck, earning a happy chitter, “good boy...”
Bull grumbled a little, nudging Kaaras back into motion as Krem struggled not to fall over with laughter. His lieutenant jogged to catch up to them again as Bull had to slow down when Rio protested at the faster pace. “Ha! Well, it seems Kaaras proved more useful than you originally thought, Chief! Looks like the first round of ale is on you!”
* * *
Rio was out again when they reached camp, even as the people cheered their return. She didn't wake until the cold washed over her again, eyes fluttering open as she groggily tried to sit up. Hands held her down and were grabbing at her clothes, trying to keep her still.
Panic shot through her, eyes bleary as she tried to focus on the faces hovering above her, the bright lantern overhead nearly blinding her as her heart raced. Tears filled her eyes as she fought against them. Rio gasped for breath, choking on a sob as she begged them to stop as she felt her coat fall away, her loose linen shirt pulled open as she tried to fight them. “P-please, don't!” she cried, shaking her head, trying to twist away from the arms that held her down, crying out in pain as she jostled her injured ribs. “Don't,” she gasped, tears falling freely. She didn't care who saw her tears now, she just couldn't do it anymore. She kicked out with her feet, a little relieved when her foot hit something solid before she felt her ankle caught by a strong arm, boot wrestled off as she tried to jerk her leg away, candle and lantern light too bright for her to make out their faces.
She kicked out hard with her other foot, hearing a satisfying crunch as the heel of her boot connected with something, a cry of pain making the other pairs of hands release her. She didn't even think, simply curling tightly into herself as she gasped between her sobs, stars dancing across her vision. The pain was too much, the memory...
As the darkness threatened to swallow her again, strong arms lifted her from the ground. She tried to fight as her coat was peeled away, but a deep voice assured her she was safe, and the warmth returned again. Her head was tilted back, cool glass pressed against her lips as she was ordered to drink. It was cool and minty over her lips, making her shiver as the cold pooled in her stomach before quickly warming her from the inside out, the tent swimming around her as her eyes fluttered closed, head lolling back as she drifted once more into that dark and dreamless sleep.
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