Every reason to hate you

Elissa stepped to the bank of the river and took a deep breath of the cool, clean air, closing her eyes and feeling the gentle night breeze caress her face and ruffle her hair. She had needed to step away from camp and clear her head. Behind her, she could faintly hear Oghren and Anders arguing back at the campfire, followed by a loud crashing sound. Velanna's shrill voice suddenly rose in anger and Elissa sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. She was getting so weary of this. She missed Alistair and the others, but her templar had sacrificed himself to protect her and the rest of the world from the Archdemon and left her here alone, to carry on the Warden tradition. She would continue to do her duty, but it was with a heavy heart. She had lost so much, her parents, her nephew… Alistair. A vision of the tall, golden-haired warrior crossed her mind; of the night he had told her he could not imagine life without her. And yet, now he was gone and she was the one forced to face life without him. Some days, it was difficult to climb from her bedroll and face the day, but duty commanded her and she could rest only once she had restored the Grey Wardens of Ferelden.

"I owe you an apology," a low voice suddenly said at her side. Elissa suppressed another sigh as she lifted her head to face the dark haired man coming around the tree to stand on the bank beside her.

"Any specific reason in mind?" she asked, thinking of several things she would like apologies for, starting first and foremost with the slaughter of her family at the command of his father. As soon as that thought crossed her mind, the more rational part of her mind took over and silently admitted that Nathaniel could not reasonably be held accountable for the actions of his father.

"For not believing you about my father… You were right all along, I just couldn't believe…" Nathaniel trailed off, head bowed.

"How could you have known?" Elissa said, cursing her endlessly fair mind even in the face of this man whom she wished she could hate.

Nathaniel lifted his head to look at her. "Perhaps you are right… Still, I feel a fool. My father ruined our family's name and left us to suffer the consequences!" He slammed a fist into his open palm, frustration painted on his face.

Surprising herself, Elissa reached out and laid a soothing hand on his shoulder. "It's not your fault, Nathaniel. It's up to you to turn that around and I have faith that you will succeed admirably in that."
Nathaniel gazed at her and she suddenly removed her hand, flushing in embarrassment. "Thank you, Elissa. That means a lot to me." She heard the caress in his voice as he said her name and she lowered her eyes, feeling suddenly awkward. His voice suddenly took on a note of concern. "Are you all right? Have I said something wrong?"

Sighing slightly, she shook her head. "No, Nathaniel, you have done nothing wrong. I am fine. Truly," she added when he looked skeptical. "I think I'm just a bit tired. You know, traveling all day, fighting darkspawn, can wear you down a bit." Nathaniel nodded at her but restricted any further comment to simply wishing her good night.  As she strode away from him back toward the camp, she could feel his eyes lingering on her. She felt a cold chill shiver through her that had nothing to do with the cool night air.

Why can't I hate you? she thought sadly to herself as she skirted the edge of the camp. Velanna was still shrieking at Oghren and Anders for Maker only knew what; Sigrun was already wrapped in her sleeping rolls near the fire; only Justice noticed her passing, but he simply contented himself with a small nod, his white dead eyes following her until she stepped into her tent and secured the flaps.

Alone at last, though it could hardly be called peaceful with the elf's shrill voice echoing through the night, Elissa sat down heavily on her bedroll and began tugging off her boots. Her mind went again to Nathaniel, his serious expression framed by dark hair, his droll sense of humor that was only now starting to manifest itself as he grew more comfortable with the companions, his fierce devotion to his loved ones. She remembered again the tone of his voice as he had said her name and her heart thumped painfully. He was so unlike her Alistair; both born of noble fathers, Alistair had been forced to live the life of a poor child raised by the chantry, shunned by family, while Nathaniel had lived the privileged life of a beloved eldest son. Yet Nathaniel was not a spoiled, pampered brat.  He fought hard for what he believed in and did not expect anyone to pick up his slack.

She drew her knees to her chest and rested her forehead upon them, sighing heavily. "Don't do this to yourself, Elissa," she said quietly to herself.