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As the sun dips behind the red cliffs of their newfound surroundings, casting a blanket of chilly evening air over their camp, the Grey Warden Nova Amell and her companions find themselves faced with the familiar task of setting up for the night. With the threat of Darkspawn lurking in the area and no nearby functioning inn to seek refuge in, they have become accustomed to the routine of wilderness living in the short time they have passed together.
As every night, the duties of the evening are divided among them, alternating between them so that everyone has to do every task at one point. Tonight Sten gathers firewood, Alistair arranged the tents, and Leliana fetched water from a nearby river. Meanwhile, the faithful Mabari companion Barkspawn roams about, hopefully not causing any mischief or destroying precious belongings as he has done on previous nights.
Morrigan has moved further away from them all, having her own tent and campfire in solitude a stone throw away. Nova looks over at her and lets out a small sigh. She has gotten closer to the witch she met a few weeks prior in the swamp by Ostagar, but they are still not what one could consider a friend. Their conversations are mostly limited to the discussion about their magic powers and abilities and a few questions about each other’s upbringings that couldn’t be more different. A lonesome Apostate witch who was raised by her mother in a swamp versus the sheltered and controlled Nova who was torn from her family at a young age to learn magic under the watchful eyes of the Templars within the Circle Tower walls.
She makes the decision to head over and speak to her as Alistair's voice breaks through her thoughts, his tone teasing as he reminded her of her assigned task for the evening.
"Isn't it your turn to cook?"
"I don't know how to. We never learnt this at the Circle Tower." She admits with a sheepish shake of her head. How to craft herbal potions and weave spells doesn't particularly help with mundane everyday tasks that Nova finds herself having to learn lately. Her knowledge of the outside world is limited to childhood memories, tales and what she read in the library of the Tower she spent almost all her life in.
"It's very simple." Alistair explains and steps closer to her after the foundation of their resting places had been laid out. He has been busy with removing stones from where they are going to place the tents soon. "You just put everything in the pot, simmer it over the fire and once it goes from a colorless liquid to an appetizing brownish grey broth, toss in some herbs. Easy. You can do it."
He pats her shoulder, gives her another smile and a look that lingers a little too long on her brown eyes before he seems to remember that he needs to continue his work. Rubbing the back of his neck, Alistair returns to preparing the tents. Nova looks after him as he walks away, feeling a warmth on her cheeks that shouldn't be there. After all, it's cold already with the sun vanishing behind the cliffs and mountains that surround them. She blinks and turns her head to the stone circle that Sten prepared for the fire place to distract herself, but his warm smile and lingering gaze leave her feeling unexpectedly flustered.
With slow steps Nova walks towards the stone circle and kneels down to assemble the cooking gear that someone placed next to the stone circle. She spends the time assembling the metal rods to build a proper stand for the cooking rack while waiting for the big Qunari to return with the fire wood. The young mage tries to remember how her friends used to prepare meals for the group in the previous nights and tries to find a pattern she can follow. After all, it is not so different from brewing alchemical potions, right? Still struggling with finding the best strategy to prepare food and almost thinking that the ending the Blight is way easier than this terrible challenge, Sten arrives with the firewood and the Mabari in tow.
Barkspawn runs towards his mistress at once and barks happily as he settles down next to Nova, eager to get some pets like he usually does when he is in her reach. Ever since she saved his life from the terrible illness that had befallen him in the Ostagar kennels, Barkspawn has been a loving and loyal friend to her. It is impossible not to give in to the dog’s excitement and run a hand over his head. With a warm smile, Nova massages his scalp with her fingers and the Mabari closes his eyes in a display of pure happiness.
In the meantime Sten places the wood next to the stone circle, gives Nova a small grunt and walks away immediately to get more so it will last them the whole night. She has a thought of asking him how he would prepare a proper meal, but eventually decides against it.
No. Showing weakness or helplessness isn't something she wants the Qunari to witness. She will figure it out on her own, somehow. Whatever food she makes, it can't be worse than Alistair's strange lamb stew.
Her eyes move once more to the other Grey Warden and she catches herself watching him for longer than she wants to while her hand still strokes over Barkspawn's head. Alistair is quite handsome, she admits to herself in this moment.
In their own way, they all are, she reminds herself. A group of really beautiful people, inside and out – mostly, that is. Nova knows what a strange mix of companions she has following her on her mission, but even though she met them all only a few days or weeks ago, she’d not trade anyone of them.
Moving her hand from the dog's head to the branches supplied by Sten, Nova skillfully stacks them in the manner she learned during her time at the Circle Tower. There, the necessity of fireplace construction for room heating and the arrangement of pyres for magical practice has become second nature. Once satisfied with the arrangement, she extends both hands, focusing her energy on conjuring a small, steady flame that dances eagerly toward the awaiting wood, igniting it effortlessly. It is a task she has mastered, the easy part of their evening routine.
Amidst the crackling of the newly kindled fire, Barkspawn's bark draws her attention as Leliana approaches, bearing a bucket of water and a smile as warm as Nova's own magical flames. The redhead deposits the bucket nearby, offering the dog a friendly pat before making her way over to Alistair to lend him a hand. Nova can't help but feel a twinge of jealousy, quickly quashing it with a reminder of her own task at hand—procrastination is not an option.
With renewed focus, Nova retrieves the vegetables and dried meat from their rations bag, deftly chopping them into bite-sized pieces. She then turns her attention to the pot, suspended over the fire on the metal rod construction she assembled earlier. Treating it like a familiar cauldron, she adds a chunk of butter, followed by the sausage, meat, water, and herbs, each ingredient added with practiced precision.
Throughout the process, Barkspawn remains faithfully by her side, offering silent encouragement as he observes her every move. And as Nova stirs and tastes the burgeoning meal, she can't help but feel a sense of pride in her ability to adapt and overcome—even in the face of unfamiliar challenges.
By the time she is done, the tents are built and Sten has returned once more with thicker chunks of firewood. Except for Morrigan, who chose to stay in her own little private camp, the companions all sit down by the fire and watch Nova cook while they are chatting about the experiences of the day. It was mostly travelling with a few bands of Darkspawn they fought while being on their way to Redcliff and Alistair shares once more how eager he is to see his home again after all these years. This time however, Nova keeps her focus on the meal and doesn't look up to get distracted by the man next to her. One last taste testing and the food is ready to be served. Each of them is handed out a big spoonful of the meal, including a serving on an extra plate that Nova brings over to Morrigan.
"I hope it tastes alright." She tells the witch as she hands her the plate with the stew. "It was my first time cooking."
Morrigan's catlike eyes fall on the young Grey Warden as she takes the dish. "Are you serious? Didn't these Templars and Mages teach you anything useful besides magic?" She asks, her voice once more filled with vitriol whenever something like the chantry or the Circle Tower are brought up.
"Well, not cooking, that's for sure." Nova says with a small shrug of her shoulders. "Enjoy." She offers the witch a smile and heads back to her side of the camp, feeling that she is by now rather hungry herself.
Sten is shoving the spoon into his mouth, saying nothing as he so often does while Leliana and Alistair are still chatting about the city they will enter come tomorrow morning: Redcliff, located at the Lake Calenhad. Lake Calehand... the same lake that the Circle Tower was located on. It was where she was raised and the only place she had known. The whole world was new ground for her. An interesting, mysterious and dangerous place she can finally explore freely. It’s exciting!
Her big brown eyes look at Alistair as he gesticulates and describes the place as he remembers it, partly sharing fond and partly sharing bad memories of it.
She purses her lips, gently blowing over her dish to cool it down a bit. The aroma isn't too offensive, and the fact that no one has politely pushed it aside or offered it to the dog reassures her that it turned out decently.
The Grey Warden takes a spoon full and tastes her first ever meal. It is seasoned alright, definitely could be improved if she was sure which herb had which taste to add to the dish, but at least it isn't oversalted or outright bland. She smiles to herself, proud of overcoming such a mundane challenge that yet seemed such a damn big hurdle for her for some reason.
With newfound confidence, she gazes back at Alistair, who continues to share his stories, his eyes glowing in the warm fireplace light. She can't help but smile a little wider. Feeling a twinge of embarrassment at her loss of composure, she quickly shifts her gaze to the pretty redhead sitting across from her instead. It lingers there or a moment before she turns her head to her right where Sten is finishing up his meal. The strong and stern man surely is frightening, but Nova isn't afraid of him. Instead, she is eager to win his respect.
With this dish she prepared tonight it seems that it gained her some points in his favour as he demands seconds. The Grey Warden gladly obliges and gives him another big spoon full of veggies and meat. Her eyes move further to her right, glancing over at Morrigan all alone by her smaller fire. The witch is still a mystery to her, but Nova is sure she can get to know the woman better over time. After all, their journey together has just begun.
To Nova's surprise, nobody is commenting on the food. They are all treating it as it it was nothing special at all. And maybe that's a good sign. A sign of success even. No complaint is almost a compliment, she thinks and looks into her empty bowl with a small smile. She doesn't have much time to think about the food either.
Leliana's laughter fills the nightly air and once more reassures Nova that it all will be fine. The meal, the Blight, the world. And if it won't be, at least they had this night to warm themselves from the inside like a good meal.