A/N: Ok, the codex only says so much about Dalish culture, so I'm basing a bunch of it on a mix of Celtic and Norse. Celtic because of their lifestyle, but Norse for their mythology (Fen'harel, Fenril, get it?) The name Arella for example is Gaelic (ancient Celtic language) for angel. Much of the storyline I'm basing off the idea that Zevran will still eventually give the character his earring, even if she doesn't sleep with him immediately. (Yes this is possible.)
Arella groggily lifted her head. That last hit had left her vision blurry, but what she saw through the haze made her forget all the injuries she acquired earlier in the battle. An ogre had a firm grip on her best friend, about to slam his head into the ground. Even an assassin wouldn't survive that kind of blow. "Z!" she shouted as she unsteadily jumped to her feet. Willing her body to move past its limits, she leapt onto the creature's back. She hit it in the back of the head with her shield twice to draw its attention away from the elf in its hand. She waited until it looked up to jab her sword down, straight through its face. The ogre went limp, dropping its unconscious prey in the process. The creature began to tip backward, forcing the warrior on its back to jump off lest she be crushed. Despite turning her landing into a tucked roll she still felt the snap of torn tendons as she hit the ground. "Oghren! Cut that damn thing's head off. I want to make sure it's dead," she ordered, remembering what her codex said about ogres on the battlefield.
"Sure thing boss lady," the dwarf replied before bringing his massive greatsword down on the creature's neck, severing the head completely. Of course he'd be the one to have absolutely no qualms about being covered in blood.
"I hate ogres," she muttered to herself as she limped towards Zevran. He was just waking up when she stood in front of him and asked, "You okay?"
"As okay as one with a possible concussion can be I suppose." he replied with his usual smirk in place.
However this did not seem to affect the Dalish warrior before him, for she merely replied, "Good," before falling face-first into the dirt, unconscious.
When she next awoke, she was being carried piggyback style. By something that smelled good, she noted. She took a deeper breath to get more of the scent, causing the smell-good thing to notice her awakened state. "Ah, so my dear warden you are awake now, yes?"
"I can…" She started to say, 'I can walk,' but she realized with her injury that wasn't entirely true.
"You can? You can what?" Zevran pressed.
She let out a deep sigh, "I can't feel my foot." It may have been a cover-up, but that didn't stop it from being true. Her foot really had gone numb.
"Ah, that might be because Morrigan froze it about ten minutes ago," he replied with a chuckle.
"Huh?" She looked down at her ankle. A block of ice encompassed it from the bottom of her calf to the top of her heel. She gave it an experimental wiggle. At least she could still move.
"From what I recall she said it was to reduce the swelling, but I think it was because you were in pain."
"'Tis only half true," Morrigan had an uncanny ability to appear whenever someone was speaking of her. "Yes, you appeared to be in pain, but I only froze it at the insistence of the elf that we 'Do something'."
"That true Z?"
To his credit, he only faltered a moment, too small to be noticed if she hadn't been watching for it. He covered it up by shifting her weight higher on his back. "Of course, we cannot allow our fearless leader to become permanently injured. Then who would lead us into battle? Alistair?"
Morrigan gave a rather unladylike snort, "That simpering fool? He would sooner let the dog lead than take charge himself."
"Or perhaps our drunk smelly friend, no? What do you say my dwarven compatriot? Would you lead us valiantly into battle, banners flying, and trumpets playing?" Oghren just belched in response.
Arella, on the other hand, wasn't even listening to their antics. She was too focused on a patch of red just behind Zevran's ears. 'Is that a blush?' she thought incredulously. While most people blush along their cheeks, it has been known for show up elsewhere on others. Some blush on their neck, Alistair only blushed on the tops of his ears, and apparently Zevran blushed behind his. Maybe it was the pain. Maybe it was the head injury. Or maybe she was just plain crazy, but whatever the reason, she decided to point it out to him. She leaned close to his ear so that only he could hear her. "Your bluuush-iiing," she said in a sing-song voice. "No wonder everyone thinks you never get embarrassed. They just can't see cuz it's behind your ears."
"You know I could just drop you right now," he replied in a warning tone.
"You could," she paused and let out a long yawn, "but you won't." Whatever he may have said to that is unknown. She had fallen asleep and remained so all the way back to camp.