Couple of warnings:

1) Not beta'd

2) Small, tiny spoilers

3) Written on a whim

4) Slight OOC (okay a lot of it)

5) Kill me and I won't write a sequel… unless that is your plan… in which case I'm dead anyway, so carry on!

6) Yours insanely

7) Golumfryingeggs

8) He he he

NOTE: Fixed some of it, so hope it is better this time round. I realized I miss spelled the names... oops

The Sten and The Mage

"Mage"

Wynne sighed. Would it kill him to use her name? After four months of fighting alongside one another on the battle field, one would think that some simple form of respect would birth from it. She carefully looked up from her herbs, his stoic, hard expression burning into her own.

She sighed again.

It probably would kill him.

"Yes Sten?" She straightened up slowly, a sharp pain stung in her lower back, but she quickly covered her discomfort with a comforting smile. How the age eats away at the body. The hard, curiously noble warrior watched her with crimson eyes.

A long pregnant silence loomed.

She shifted slightly, trying to relieve the pain in her back, but the hard eyes seemed to pin her on the spot. She waited patiently, the calm smile remaining in place, her hands folded in front of her. The herbs bubbled in the small pot on the fire, the midday sun beating down on the two.

A cricket chirped.

Wynne blinked at the Qunari, he never moved, he nary blinked. What was wrong with the man? By the maker he was driving her insane!

"Did you need anything Sten?" her voice was calm, her heart was trying to break the sound barrier. Heavens he could make one nervous.

Sten blinked (finally!) and then spoke in that deep serious tone of voice.

"There is a strange… ritual you humans do," for the first time since he addressed her he broke eye contact, but only briefly, "It normally involves two people from the opposite sex, they move together, pressed up tightly sometimes. It apparently has a very joyous effect."

She froze dead.

By the Maker. Wynne's eyes grew wider and wider as the giant spoke. He must know what this is! He's teased Morrigan about it so many times! Is this perhaps a jest? A silly joke to give the old bag a heart attack?

Well it's not working!

"I was hoping you could perhaps show me how this ritual works,"

It's working! It's working!

The silence that followed was void of absolutely every damn thing. No cricket chirped no wind whipped at the trees. All the other members had gone to the village, they were alone.

The use of her voice seemed to have failed her. Oh maker! I'm going to have a silent rape! I'm going to be raped and I won't even have a say about it!

Her heart hammered, her eyes were still wide. All this she could deal with, but the burning blush that graced her cheeks was something she was not accustomed to in her old age. Maybe if her blood pressure went high enough she could be struck with that heart attack now he'll leave her alone!

Or maybe he'll just teach himself on my quiet body.

Where was that spirit when you needed it?

"I am judging by your expression" Sten spoke carefully, as if not to startle her further, "That my request was inappropriate, I was not aware that this ritual was so unspoken of. I shall ask the elf instead, he seems to know a lot about these sorts of things,"

Her mind shut down at this point.

"Please stop!"

Praise! I found my voice! Sten stared at her strangely, the midday sun gleamed off his armor, and she knew this because right now she was focusing on a spot just by his broad shoulder.

He'll crush me! She wailed inside.

"Sten, why would you want to … learn this?" she asked shock apparent, "I thought you were educated in this… ritual,"

"No not this one," he shook his head, "But perhaps this is inappropriate, we don't seem to have music, which seems to be an essential part of the act,"

Wynne blinked, feeling much like a pigeon starring at a piece of corn running off into the distance screaming 'I'm a pebble!'

"Music?" she asked in a small voice, fearing the answer she would get.

"Yes," he said, still careful not to startle her further, "I believe it is used to move on, apparently they do it quick or slow, depending on the people playing,"

Wait a moment. Wynne frowned up at the tall man, finally meeting his gaze again. "My dear, are you talking about dancing?"

Sten paused for a moment, his gaze drifted to the ground, the permanent frown on his stark features deepening even further. He looked up and nodded curtly, "Yes I believe that was what she'd called it. Excuse me? Is something humorous?"

I wish I could stop laughing.

* * *

"Alright let's try again,"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes! I am, now-"

"I do believe I stepped rather hard earlier, perhaps a short break-"

"Sten, I am fine" Wynne sighed softly, a small smile tracing her lips, "The no boots policy is definitely helping,"

The Qunari's face broke into a soft smile, before nodding and stepping closer. His large hand grasped her around her waist, the other taking her thin worn hand in his own. She was surprised by his gentleness, his manner and over all performance. He was not a gifted dancer, but his determination more than made up for that.

"Now remember, left foot first," she spoke as she placed her hand on his broad shoulder, silently thanking the maker that it wasn't crushing her, "Then you count: One, two, three, one, two, three and it goes down, up, up."

Sten stared down between their bodies at his feet, she could tell that he was trying, but he was used to battling monsters head on. These small strange 'rituals' as he calls them was not enough like a battle.

To put it bluntly; he had two left feet.

He nodded and she couldn't hide the smile.

"Lelliana if you please,"

It had taken some time and about 50 silvers worth of cookies, but eventually Sten had agreed to let the Orlesian girl come along. They needed music and she had promised to keep it their little secret.

That had been accomplished by a fleet of shoes.

"As you say!" The young girl nodded and then started blowing on her pipe.

Wynne mentally prepared herself for the stumble, the misstep, the painful, but accidental kick. She had more bruises than a hairless mabari beaten up by an ogre. Everything ached.

But she braced herself and allowed the strangely careful giant to guide her through the dark forest. He took it slow and Lelliana quickly adjusted her flute to his pace, Wynne focused on her feet, she was in no mood to lose a toe.

"Much better Sten," she smiled looking back up when she felt confidant that she wouldn't lose an appendage.

"Be quiet," he snapped.

Wynne blinked at his rudeness. A retort was already forming on her tongue, but she was deftly cut short by a sudden realization.

He was dancing… quite well.

His footing was flawless, his movements graceful and his eyes were focused on hers. By Andraste's grace, he was dancing!

Her gaze flicked down to their feet and she couldn't help but grin-

"Ow!" she yelped, lost her footing and crashed to the forest floor. She heard a soft giggle from Lelliana, her sharp gaze glared at the girl, the laughter died away just as quickly.

Idiot! She cursed at herself, just when the man understood the movements she had to go and trip on herself. Stupid!

Wynne sighed and finally looked up at Sten. He stood dead still watching her with a stare she could not place in his normal three glares:

# 1 I'm going to kill you

# 2 I'm going to kill you, painfully.

# 3 I'm going to kill you, painfully and enjoy it.

She settled this one on number four.

# 4 I'm going to kill you, but for now you're useful, so let's leave this for another time.

Thank the stars I'm being useful!

"Sorry my dear," she sighed, pushing up from the ground. "I lost my footing. I guess my age is affecting me more than I thought" A searing pain shot through her back and straight into her eyes. For a moment she paused and waited for the burning sensation to simmer down. Right now she hated her age!

A large hand came into view; she stared at it and watched mesmerized as it grasped her arm and gently, so very gently pulled her up.

Sten held on softly, she'd seen the power in those hands and right now she could feel it through her robe, but the softness and the gentleness in his movements shocked even her. She felt ashamed for thinking so about the Qunari, but he was always so hard and forthright that it was hard to imagine him… so caring.

"Thank you" she said weakly when she stood next to him.

He nodded with another ghost smile.

"I knew you were a big softie!"

And then it died away. Wynne cursed the bard into the first twenty hells she could think of at that moment. Blasted woman! Why did she bring her again?

"Thank you Lelliana," she said with forced kindness, "That will be all for tonight,"

The Orlesian girl giggled merrily as she slid off the rock and headed back to camp. Her hips swayed with an odd rhythm and despite the annoyances that girl caused, Wynne could not help but feel a tad envious.

What she wouldn't give to be 25 again...even just for a day. To have men twist their necks and die whistling. To be able to read without spectacles and have the strength to run up the stairs, just for the hell of it! At least the elf thought she had a nice bosom. She stared down in dismay at her old, but perky breasts.

Should have seen them thirty years ago, she mused with a glare.

"You are not old,"

Wynne blinked and looked up to stare at the Qunari, "Excuse me?" she asked genuinely confused.

Sten stared at her strangely, this time no death glare graced his stoic features, but it certainly wasn't a 'cuddle me' stare either. Still she couldn't quite place this look, this gaze he'd decided to grace her with.

"You fight with vigor and spirit rarely seen, you are wise, and you keep up with the longest of treks." The same smile as before traced his lips. "You enjoy games, laughter and even tease the other members of our team. You let no one do your duties and even when you are tried you say no word of it."

Wynne stared at him with wide eyes, where does he come from? Honestly?

"But I'm…" she started, "I'm almost-"

"Age does not matter," he said holding up one of his large hands to pause her, "Our actions determine this not our years. In this land I have come to realize that young people are of worth, where old ones are not, simply because they can not do anything truly of worth,"

Her eyes dropped down, despite herself. He was right, far too right, how does he do this? Take any idea or concept in our land, tear it up and show us exactly what is bare on the inside? His insight into the world defines him on so many levels, his strong demeanor proving only that wisdom and strength could live alongside in harmony.

Why does he have to be so right?

A large hand dropped on her small shoulder and she quickly found his red gaze once more. The smile still graced his features, but now it had reached into his eyes, making them sparkle with an understanding and kindness she would never have dared to look for in this giant.

"If age was determined by actions and worth," he smiled, "Then you would be a young powerful twenty-five year old mage. Pardon, I did not mean to upset you"

I wish I could stop crying.

* * *

The Aerl was healed and the people of Redcliff rejoiced in the only way they knew how; Celebration! The music flared, the finest wines and ale were aired in the cool night and everyone danced away their worries. Wynne watched with amusement as her companions enjoyed the festivities.

Lelliana played her flute to the best of her abilities, all the other musicians envious of her talent, but grateful for her skills. She played the flute like a cat plays with a mouse, effortlessly and enjoying every single moment of it, as if this golden opportunity will never come to pass again.

Oghren laughed with the other drunks, telling obscene jokes and practically choking himself to death before the ending. Morrigan watched with mild interest, although the sudden pink hair of the dwarf could only be blamed on her wicked smile.

The warden and Alistair were happily on the dance floor, giggling more than necessary and Wynne could only hope that this would not end badly.

She sighed inwardly.

Personally she sometimes hated to be the mother, forever the worried hen that looks out for her chicks; unfolding her wing to protect them against the elements, puffing her feathers to keep them warm and giving them a push when they fear to tread forwards.

She sighed miserably, where had her youth gone? Her fun loving nature, her quirky humor, her quick tongue and her more perky breasts than usual?

I don't care what that elf says, she growled inwardly staring down at her bosom, they were a lot perkier a few years back. I could have poked someone's eye out!

"Mage,"

Would it kill him? Honestly, if you had to look at in a logical way, no it won't bloody kill him!

"Yes Sten?" she sighed.

There was a pause. He stared at her with another burning gaze, the music drifted across the village and slowly shifted from a quick pace to the well known rhythm of the waltz.

Sten was still staring at her.

Not this again! She wailed in terror as his stare burned through her mental defenses. You would make a brilliant interrogator. She briefly imagined men hanging on the bars of their cells while screaming like lunatics.

"I did it! I swear by the name of every god in the universe, but just make him stop! By the maker I can't take it anymore!"

With Sten standing in the background, his cool gaze focused on the victim, watching quietly as the man tried to chew through the bars.

She blinked rapidly and then realized that he'd spoken.

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that dear?" she smiled.

Sten clenched his jaw tightly, his broad chest puffing up as if he was about to fry her with dragons breath. She wouldn't put it past him truth be told.

"Would you dance with me, mage?"

Nothing could have prepared her, no spell, no dark force, human force, hell not even by the grace of Andraste could she picture herself taking this any better than she did. She swallowed, tried to keep herself from falling of the chair… or fainting for that matter.

Oh Maker! I'm about to faint!

Then breathed deeply and smiled, "Of course" Now if only my voice won't crack like a teenage boy that would be wonderful.

He nodded and took off for the dance floor; Wynne leapt up and quickly followed the giant, easily keeping an eye on his tall shoulders which towered above the others by about a head. Then suddenly he stopped, turned and awaited her.

Wynne walked straight to him and smiled at his serious expression as he held out his hand. Deftly she took it in her own, so rough and hard from fighting, hers soft, small and pale in comparison. He settled the other on her waist and with a quick glance she moved her own up to his strong shoulder.

Still happy it isn't crushing me.

"Ready?" he asked and she nodded.

Their dance started and Wynne suddenly felt so very young. Having such a handsome… man… in her arms and dancing for the world to see. How long has it been? Twenty years? Thirty? Perhaps more, but for now that did not matter, in this moment he made her feel young. For just a day, perhaps an hour, that was all that mattered.

He guided her gently and carefully through the crowds, his movements perfect and flawless. The Qunari had been practicing, she could tell.

Sten frowned at her smile, "What are you thinking, mage?"

Wynne glared playfully at the giant. "Why won't you use my name, Sten?"

"Because you don't use mine," he said grimly.

"Very funny," she replied watching him smile, "So Sten is not your name?"

He shook his head, "Where I come from we value names highly, they are treasures, important to the owner and are very rarely used," they circled around a few couples, settling in a slower pace he continued, "We are defined by our title and only when we trust someone completely, when we feel that we wish to be more than a fighting companion, then and only then we share our names and even then in secrecy,"

The dance continued their footsteps slowing as the music lulled to a slower tempo. Wynne found herself leaning forwards and resting her head against the giant's chest. She was surprised at the lack of comment or reaction.

And grateful for it.

"Why did you want to learn to dance?" she asked softly.

"Because I wished to ask someone to dance" she felt him speak more than heard, his deep voice vibrating through his chest.

"Oh," she was disappointed at the answer, but really should have seen that coming, "Who?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

They danced some more, the music filled them to the core and she found herself listening to his heart beat, it lulled her to near sleep, "I suspected as such," she finally said, "That you wanted to ask someone, but I was certain it would be our leader,"

"She is taken," he shrugged.

"But why me?" she asked, genuinely curious, lifting her head to look at the Qunari. He sighed, obviously annoyed at her endless questions. She vaguely remembered a conversation between the Warden and Sten.

"What do the Qunari have then?"

"Little patience for endless questions,"

"Morrigan annoys me; Lelliana tries to find my softer side… far too much." He looked up as if thinking of each companion as he went, "The elf is humorous, but not my type. Alistair is taken, as is the warden and can you honestly see me dancing with a dwarf?"

Despite herself she giggled. She felt so young in his arms, looking up into his handsome face how she wished she was a simple twenty years younger. Just for a single day.

"So I was chosen by default?" she asked, swaying softly with the rhythm and not really caring what the answer was.

"Partly," he twirled her gracefully and brought her back to his broad chest.

"Oh?" she questioned tilting her head upwards to stare into those burning eyes.

"You are sensible mage, kind and accept me exactly for who I am," he stared at the floor for a moment as the music enveloped the two dancers, "You're strong, wise and yet humorous, though you have a tendency to mother" he raised a discontented brow and she tried not to look guilty.

"But mostly," he paused and if Wynne did not know better she could swear he was going to kiss her. His eyes staring through hers, capturing something deeper, something she'd not felt in a long time. His dark stare softened.

"I like you," he whispered.

She blinked, Andraste I feel like that pigeon again!

"And I wanted to give something back," By the maker he was bashful! His body was slightly more tense than usual, he was avoiding her eyes and if that wasn't a blush then she was a dragon's egg.

"Oh Sten" she smiled softly, "You make an old woman feel young again,"

He looked at her and smiled, truly smiled and just as the music died away so did that grin slip from his face. She was almost sad to watch it go; almost feeling her youth was connected to him in some strange way.

I sound like a teenager… a very old one mind you, but still!

"Good," he said suddenly dropping his hands, "Now that that's done I still have many duties to complete, this was pleasant, good evening to you."

Wynne blinked as he strolled off with his hard march. Did he just blow her off? That… that… rude man!

Don't sound too old now Wynne. She growled inwardly. Well old or not he's not getting away with it! Dancing with her then just leaving! The nerve of the man!

Flicking her nose up, she strolled after him with a determination that few would dare get in front of. Indeed most people leapt out of the way as she stormed past. She radiated anger, her eyes flashed fire; the Arch Demon would cower.

He moved fast for such a large man, when she finally left behind the crowds she could see him making his way up the path to the campsite. Well he won't reach it. Picking up her robe she stormed up the mountain, her eyes still blazing.

"Sten of the Berrasad!" she called just as he rounded a corner in the cliff. He turned to look at her, his normal angry glare etched onto his face. Wynne paused a blissful moment, desperately trying to get her breath back.

Running… up… mountain… not good… Idea…

"How dare you-" she heaved.

"It's Arikon,"

She froze.

"What?"

"My name" he shrugged, "is Arikon, please use it at your disposal"

She blinked owlishly.

"You really shouldn't do that," he said with a near disgusted frown, "You look like a dumbfounded pigeon,"

"Who is watching a piece of corn running off, while it is screaming 'I'm a pebble!'"

He blinked.

She smiled.

He pinned her with glare # 3.

"So why did you just leave?" she asked a little nervous.

He shrugged again, "I tire of dancing," he shook his head, "You humans are strange beings, finding pleasure in the silliest things,"

"This coming from a man who eats cookies and plays with kittens?" she smiled.

"Parshaara!" he cursed, obviously displeased. He looked up and sighed deeply, "I'm going to clean Asala. Do you wish to join me?"

Her head tilted left, such a strange man was he, asking the woman he wanted to dance with to teach him in the first place. He seemed to read people a lot better than she first thought or maybe he was just a fast learner.

"I would love to Arikon" she said and stepped closer. "But I should warn you I don't know much of weapon cleaning,"

The ghost smile traced his lips when finally he spoke, "No matter Wynne, the company will be all that's needed. Wynne?"

I wish you never stop smiling.

Epilogue

Later that evening;

"You know you never gave a reason not to ask the dog," Wynne said as the fire crackled in the night air. Sten raised an eyebrow, but said nothing "I mean you were very adamant about the rest, but the dog never even came up,"

Still he remained silent, scraping the stone across his blade.

She paused, "Perhaps it hadn't been needed to mention the dog, I mean its-"

"She'd already said no," Sten said with a dark voice.

"Oh," Wynne settled for, quietly wondering if the Qunari was all that sane in the head. Then again, if he had asked the dog it wouldn't have been such a surprise, he liked that mutt, despite everything and-

Wait a minute!

"I was your second choice, after the dog?"

Sten smiled.

I hope you guys like it; I like writing stories with the original characters, new characters always put me off and I don't think there's a whole lot of Wynn/Sten fanfiction anyway. I know it was a lot OOC, but Wynn is still human, so I tried to play on that fact. I want to right write a sequel, but let's just see what the reaction is.

*Takes blood dragon armor, Asala and about 100 potent health poultices.*

I'm ready!

*clang*

Just a pity I'm a mage and I can't pick up this sword… do you think Sten will notice another chip?

*Vicious growl*

… Never mind.

Yours insanely

Golumfryingeggs