There and Back - Chapter 116 Edited
This is the edited version of this chapter with no explicit sex. If you prefer to read the naughty bits, please see my previous post.
Chapter One Hundred Sixteen: *Three Campfires
The Joining that night went about as well as expected. While three mages and three templars had survived until the potion was ready, most of them were ravaged by the taint, barely able to stay upright, skin blackening, hair falling out, fever running rampant through their ruined bodies. Alim and Rolan were the exceptions; the mage looked pale, but otherwise well, and Rolan had black veins visible only under the skin of his hands and arms. Unsurprisingly, they were the only two who survived, and in Rolan’s case, it was a close thing - he convulsed and stopped breathing for a handful of agonising seconds before he seemed to stabilise.
It was interesting, feeling the taint alter in the bodies of the two who survived - overshadowed, of course, by the horror of losing four more recruits, not to mention all of those Aedan and Alistair must have had to put out of their misery earlier. I’d warned Zevran that Aedan would need some extra support later; no matter how necessary, wielding the sword of mercy was still an execution. Aedan would never admit that it bothered him - stubborn ass - but having Zevran prepared to handle the emotional storm could only be a good thing. And I’d be ready for Alistair, whatever he needed.
Anders sighed sadly, eyeing Rolan’s unconscious form; it would be worse, I knew, if he had known what I did about the future, instead of just generally knowing that the man was an ass. Alistair and I shared a lingering glance, both resolved not to allow bigotry to impact our friends who just happened to be mages.
Pyres had been prepared for those who didn’t make it, and we all had a moment of silence - a disgruntled, irritated, depressed silence - as Aedan and Alistair lit them. Alim and Rolan woke within the hour, and after being fed a Warden-sized snack, were ushered to tents to get some much-needed rest.
Cailan had been informed of the Grand Cleric’s disgusting decision to hide tainted mages and templars from the Grey Wardens, and from the thunderous expression on his face, I guessed that when he confronted the old hag, the fight would be epic. I was too tired and too sad, however, to find out, and I dragged Alistair back to our tent immediately after the new surviving Grey Wardens recovered.
My husband had been too quiet since they’d returned from the Chantry’s hidden camp; I hadn’t counted how many people had been tainted, but given only six left to take the Joining, I was guessing Alistair and Aedan both had probably granted merciful deaths to a dozen or more. I knew Alistair wouldn’t want to talk about it with me - he seemed to remain convinced that if I was forced to confront some of the more brutal truths about life in Thedas and the acts he had no choice but to participate in, I’d lose respect for him, or lose the desire to stay in Thedas altogether.
Instead of discussing the details, I helped him take off his dragonbone armour, undressed myself, and pulled him down into our combined bedroll, allowing him to bury his face in my belly while I held him and stroked my fingers through his scruffy hair.
“I love you, you know that, right?”
He shuddered, and I dug my fingers in harder, kneading his scalp. The noise outside slowly settled as the camp went to sleep, and he continued to hold me, pressing his face into my skin. I’d almost have thought he’d fallen asleep except for the periodic spasms that passed through him; finally, after what might have been a half hour, I felt the telling wetness of the tears he’d probably been trying to deny since morning spilling onto my stomach.
He looked up, then, but his expression, instead of the regret or sadness I expected, was furious.
“How dare she? That…that…bitch!” He was almost stuttering in his anger.
I nodded. What else could I add? He’s not wrong, and I’d like to say worse things about her.
He lowered his eyes, whispering so softly I could barely hear him. “Being a leader is even worse than I expected.”
I couldn’t deny it; he was right. It was often easier to follow, to let someone else make the hard decisions and live with the consequences. I stroked his cheek with one finger. “What do you need?”
His eyes darkened as we made eye contact again and he saw the truth in mine - whatever he needed, I’d give, and give gladly.
“You,” he replied, his voice a plea that sent a shiver of pleasure down my spine.
I nodded, and with one massive push, reversed our positions quickly, pressing him down on his back as I leaned over him, capturing his lips in a searing kiss. He tried to chase me as I pulled away, but I held him down with one hand in the centre of his chest. After all the times he’d held me, distracted me, kept me sane through the Deep Roads and everything with Duncan…the least I could do was return the favour, and I planned to make it count.
I started sensually; I left him on the bedroll and dug through my things until I found a clean cloth, and my little stone shower head. With a cautious movement, I dampened the cloth with warm water, and then turned to carefully wipe his face with the warm, wet fabric. I slowly removed sweat and dirt as I dragged the cloth down his neck, his bulging, muscular arms, and his lean, sculpted abdomen. He laid quietly, his eyes never leaving me as I worked, and while I blushed periodically as I reached across him, I didn’t stop until his entire upper body had been cleansed.
It was his turn to blush as I washed the rest of him, and then spent the next while making sure he was thoroughly distracted from the events of the day.
We collapsed together onto our bedroll, and I curled up in his arms, pulling the covers over us both. He kissed my temple, and we fell asleep together, sated and smiling.
*****
The next morning, it became obvious the Wardens were going to have a few more challenges than we’d even anticipated. With so many Grey Wardens, as well as the rest of our companions, our group had become large and somewhat unwieldy - and then there were the politics.
At breakfast, Alim and Jowan immediately began acting like feral cats, backs up and hissing at each other. I wasn’t surprised; Alim was the reason Jowan had been threatened with Tranquility, after all - whether justified or not, I still wasn’t sure - but given the large group, we decided two campfires were perhaps a good idea, and we separated the two mages with alacrity. At the same time, Anders and Alim both bristled around Rolan, who refused to call any of the mages by their names, instead calling them ‘Mage’ or ‘Warden’ in mocking tones. Aedan and Alistair both tried to intervene, with little success - proving a ‘tone’ was difficult, after all, and he was careful to do nothing that technically crossed the line, though he was rebuked strongly until he desisted - and the two campfire plan changed to three.
Conrad and Dougal had a falling out over the Dark Ritual and Conrad’s choice to stay in Ferelden, and Oghren and Faren were suddenly not on speaking terms, for no reason I was able to ascertain.
In the end, Loghain and Sten joined Rolan at one campfire, Conrad and Faren joined Anders, Solona, and Jowan at another, and Alim, Dougal, and Oghren sat sullenly at a third. The rest of us - Alistair and I, as well as Aedan, Zevran, Bel, Riordan, Leliana, and Mornwulf - rotated through all three, trying to bridge the gaps and keep everyone calm.
The following day, Nathaniel, Fergus, and a portion of the Ferelden Army were going to be leaving for Highever; Aedan took the opportunity to solve some of the problems we were having.
“I want to send some of the Wardens with Nathaniel. They can help out around Highever, then go with the Arl to Amaranthine and begin preparing for the darkspawn assaults we know will be coming,” Aedan muttered to Alistair and I.
“Good idea. And if we plan it right, maybe fewer problems with those left behind?” I hope.
“Exactly,” Aedan agreed. “I also think we should send a smaller group to Soldier’s Peak - they can work with Avernus, and help out the Drydens with getting everything ready.”
“I’d send Jowan to Soldier’s Peak,” I suggested. “Avernus will work better with a mage, and our other options are less likely to be open to working with an ancient blood mage. Anders and Alim both would probably prefer to kill him.”
“What if we send Conrad with Oghren, Bel, and Rolan to Amaranthine? No conflict there, and Conrad can handle any trouble Rolan tries to make.” Alistair looked at us, briefly surprised when neither of us disagreed with his suggestion. “We obviously need Sten, Loghain, Riordan, Dougal, and the three of us in Denerim, for a while at least.”
“So that leaves Jowan and…Wulf? For Soldier’s Peak?” Aedan suggested.
“Not Wulf,” I interjected, thinking of Kallian. “Take him to Denerim.”
Aedan gave me a knowing look, but didn’t ask. “What about Faren? He’s pretty practical - pragmatic, even - and doesn’t seem bothered by mages.”
“They’ll need an escort,” Alistair agreed. “I’ll ask Cailan.”
“He promised to provide the Peak with a guard anyway, until I could hire my own people. I’m sure he’ll agree.”
I was right, and it was decided, with Cailan’s approval, to send a group of soldiers with the two Wardens to Soldier’s Peak, but not before he made the group officially swear fealty to me. I was extremely uncomfortable with the entire thing, but he insisted it was the only way to ensure the loyalty of the men I would have directly under my command.
He asked for volunteers, and apparently ended up having to refuse dozens when he picked fifteen soldiers to transfer. Apparently the Wardens’ reputation had earned admirers, and there was no shortage of people willing to work with us. Some of them even offered to join the Wardens, but Aedan declined, saying that he wanted to get the current Wardens settled before he accepted any more, but that he would keep them in mind. There were a few that seemed disappointed, but Aedan’s sincerity was obvious, and I knew that, down the road, he would truly consider those who proved themselves and were still interested.
With the exception of one. Among the group of knights who’d volunteered to go to the Peak was one familiar face that I doubted I’d ever forget, nor would I allow her to go through the Joining. There were few women among the group, and that made Ser Mhairi stand out even more from her peers. When she volunteered to Join the Wardens, I caught Aedan’s eye, and very subtly shook my head ‘no’. I admired Mhairi’s eagerness and desire to serve, but no one would benefit from her death, least of all her. While Avernus may have updated the Joining Potion, I wasn’t ready to trust it and use the poor woman as a guinea pig.
What I did, instead, was accept the fealty of the fifteen knights, including Mhairi, and then promote her to be the leader of the group - the Lieutenant, Alistair whispered in my ear when it became obvious I had no idea what rank to call her. Maybe if she sees advancement in her future outside the Wardens, she won’t be so keen to join and we won’t have to refuse. She seemed surprised at being singled out, but stepped forward confidently and agreed to take command of the small platoon of men assigned to me.
I wondered if some of them would balk at being placed under the command of a woman - either Mhairi or myself - but none of them even blinked. There were a few surprised glances at Mhairi’s sudden promotion, but my guess was that she lacked seniority over some of the people she’d just been put in charge of. I’ll ask Faren to keep an eye on her and see if she’s competent.
I made it clear to the knights that, in my absence, they would follow directions from Faren and Levi Dryden, my seneschal. They were to secure the fortress, aid in repairs and renovations as needed, begin patrols, and mark the route through the maze leading up to the Peak to make it more accessible. Aedan gave Faren a map, which he’d copied from the one he made for himself on their way there the first time.
And then it was time for goodbyes. The two groups leaving - for Highever and for Soldier’s Peak - were planning to march at dawn, so there’d be no time for talk in the morning. Fergus shook hands with Cailan and Alistair, pulled an agitated Aedan in for a tight hug, and with a glance in my direction that I couldn’t interpret, he excused himself to get the Highever troops ready. Cailan bid those leaving good luck. The rest of us went back to the Warden camp and spent the evening talking and laughing together. Faren and Oghren seemed to have called a truce, and the two started a drinking contest that soon had them unconscious together, and for once not only Conrad, but Dougal joined in.
Perhaps there hadn’t been time for complete forgiveness, but the upcoming parting had made everyone rethink their hostilities, it seemed. Rolan, Alim, Sten, and Loghain retired early to their tents. I got the opportunity to hug everyone leaving us, though it wasn’t a terribly sad farewell since I knew we’d be seeing them again before too long.
Finally, everyone settled into tents. I woke early, hearing the packing of the Wardens leaving, and slipped out of the tent I shared with Alistair just in time to see Nathaniel sneak out of Leliana’s tent, face sombre. I hugged Jowan, Conrad, and the dwarves one last time and then slipped into Leli’s tent.
The bard was laying listlessly on her bedroll, naked, though with a blanket covering her; she startled and tried to cover herself better when I entered, but relaxed when I reassured her it was just me.
“You okay?” I asked her, concerned for the hopeless expression on her face.
She attempted to smile at me, but it fell flat. “I will be fine, my friend.” I frowned, and she sighed. “I have an obligation. I cannot stay, any more than he can go.”
“Dorothea?” She nodded. “But, Leli…she doesn’t own you. The Chantry doesn’t. You need to do what’s right for you, too. In the game, the next one?” She nodded again. “You’re the Left Hand of the Divine. You end up trying to improve the situation in Kirkwall. But Leli…you didn’t look happy. You were up to your eyeballs in conspiracies and intrigue, but you never smiled. You were involved with a Seeker doing some rather shady things. That isn’t who you have to be!”
“She saved me!”
“And if she knew that what she had planned for you would make you miserable, do you think she’d still insist on going forward with that?”
The bard looked at me, a single tear sliding down her cheek, then turned away, burying her face in her pillow. I rubbed her back, silently offering support, until she relaxed again.
“Perhaps there is a way to aid Dorothea, and still remain yourself. To stay with Nathaniel. Just…think about it, okay?”
She squeezed my hand gratefully. “Dorothea really becomes the Divine?”
I nodded. “In the game, anyway. I suppose things might have changed since then. Justinia, I think. That’s the name she takes. You say, in the game, that she’s a good person who thinks mages deserve to be treated fairly, who wants to reform the Circles and help people. She sounds…good.”
“She is.”
“I’m glad. We could use some of that.” I slapped her hip with a smile. “Now put on some clothes, lazy girl. You can’t just lay around naked all day!”
She laughed and I grinned as I climbed out of her tent. The six Wardens were gone, and Aedan had just started breakfast. With fewer of us - and the troublemakers temporarily separated - we kept just two campfires; while Aedan worked over a pot at one, I started a pot of porridge at the other. Soon the smell of food had Wardens tumbling out of their tents, and we all settled in to eat.
Afterwards, Aedan informed us that we would be leaving for Denerim in two days. “The wagons to transport the injured have arrived, and they’ll follow behind, but we will be accompanying Cailan back to Denerim to await the Weisshaupt delegation, Cailan’s formal re-coronation, and the celebrations planned for the end of the Blight. Afterwards, Loghain, Riordan, and Dougal will be leaving for Jader, Sten for Seheron, and the rest of us will travel to Amaranthine.
“What about you, Leliana? The Blight is over. What will you do next?”
Leliana wiped her mouth daintily and smiled. “I’d like to come with you to Denerim, if you don’t mind, and perhaps to Amaranthine after that for a short time. I have some obligations to a friend in Orlais to fulfill after that, but,” she glanced at me with a sly smile, “I think I can delay those for a little while.”
“Excellent!” Leliana actually looked surprised at Aedan’s enthusiasm. “What? I could use a good archer to train any new recruits. And you tell the best stories.”
The bard giggled happily and blushed, and Aedan turned to Wynne, who had joined us for the first time in what felt like months. “And you, Wynne? I know you’ve been helping out with the wounded. Will you be travelling with us?”
The mage nodded, looking pleased. “I will. His Majesty has asked me to remain at court for a time as a healer, and will allow me to continue working with the soldiers there. After his confrontation with the Grand Cleric, I feel I may be able to recruit some of the other healers and possibly gain crown support to open a free clinic in Denerim. I won’t stay there forever - I have some research of my own to do, and Shale and Caridin have requested my help in discovering the key to golem sentience - but I’d like to get things established, perhaps aid in the transition to having more free mages outside the Circle.”
I looked at the healer in shock. “I thought it might be nasty, but I never heard what happened with Cailan and the Grand Cleric. I assumed they hadn’t talked yet. What did happen?”
Aedan laughed. “It was marvellous, Sierra. I wish you’d been there. Cailan was furious, and he had most of the nobility standing with him, looking supportive even if they didn’t all totally understand what he was up to, or agree. He called her a ‘self-serving, shrivelled-up, power-hungry hag,’ wasn’t it?”
He looked at Zevran for confirmation, the elf blushed slightly and nodded. “Exactly so, amore mio. I wasn’t aware you knew of my…presence.”
I raised my eyebrow - Zevran had snuck in, and been caught? Hysterical - but Aedan just laughed. “I know you, Zevran. Anyway, Cailan accused the old bitch of murder, and told her he was going to make a plea to the Divine to have her replaced.”
Leliana interjected. “The Divine will have little to do with it, no? Most Holy is getting on in years, and will likely have forgotten that Orlais no longer rules over Ferelden.”
Aedan nodded. “Her advisors, the most senior Grand Clerics, will have to deal with it - it will be interesting to see what happens there. Anyway, Cailan told Elemena she may remain in Denerim for now, but that he would consider exiling her completely if she did anything to undermine him or the Wardens again. And he demanded that she grant the Circle some independence - he didn’t threaten it, exactly, but the implication that he’d place the Circle under secular control if she didn’t agree was certainly obvious. Greagoir didn’t say a word, but it was clear even he approved. So now the Circle is going to train mages, but they’ll be permitted family visitors when they’re young, and will be allowed to leave the Circle more permanently after they’re Harrowed if they apply for permission. They’ll have to check in at the local Chantry wherever they go, and it only applies in Ferelden, obviously, but they’ll be able to live outside direct templar supervision.”
I snuck a look at Wynne, surprised at her beatific smile. She’d always seemed so fanatically religious before, and I thought she might have been worried about allowing mages too much freedom.
She returned my look with a wink. “What? Some very wise person I know convinced me that I have to look at what the Circle is attempting to accomplish, and decide if the current status quo is achieving that. It is not. I saw what desperation drove some mages to in Uldred’s uprising. He may have been possessed, but the rest were just…desperate. I’m an Equitarian, Sierra - we need the Circles, but not as prisons. You were right.”
I blushed. “I distinctly don’t remember saying that.”
She chuckled. “I may have paraphrased a little.”
Anders looked absolutely astonished, and I giggled at the open-mouthed expression on his face. “The Circle is independent?”
“Well, not totally. But more than it was, yes. There’ll still be Chantry oversight, and not all applications to leave the Circle will be approved if the First Enchanter and Knight-Commander don’t think the applicant is stable, but some mages will be allowed to live on their own.” Aedan looked pleased, proud even, and I knew he was as impressed with Cailan as I was. Taking away the Circle entirely was a recipe for disaster - mages did need somewhere to go and learn to control their powers, and those who’d been living in Circles shouldn’t be dumped out unceremoniously with nowhere to go - but the way things were just wasn’t going to be sustainable.
Over the next two days, we ended up spending some time with Sereda - who was engaged to a Deshyr’s son, one of Harrowmont’s supporters, not the former casteless she’d taken on as her second - and heard about how the changes had been going in Orzammar. They’d recovered Aeducan Thaig, as a result of the war games they’d used as training exercises for the Warrior and Military Castes, and hoped that by the time they returned to Orzammar, most of the Thaig would have been cleared of the taint and habitable. She’d found some stone masons willing to train some of the former casteless as labourers, and had rebuilt Dust Town, settling it with labourers, military, and servants who needed accommodations. She planned to populate much of the Aeducan Thaig with the former Casteless, who would be allowed to set up businesses and provide services to the few upper Caste families who chose to resettle there - for generous tax advantages, of course.
Gorim joined us, as he was no longer needed on the war council as a liaison, and would be returning to his family in Denerim. He and Sereda exchanged some tortured glances, but he seemed almost relieved to be going home, once she’d left at least.
Dariel came to visit as well, confirming he would be staying with Lanaya’s clan. He and Mithra, his new bond-mate, had been acting as messengers between Lanaya and Cailan, but would be heading out to Ostagar with the rest of the clan. He thanked us, again, for sparing his life in the ambush where we’d met, and for introducing him to his new clan. He even shook my hand, despite his fear of templars, and I wished him well. I knew Lanaya would help him with his magic and with proving himself to the clan.
Bodahn, who’d evidently made a fortune selling supplies to the army over the previous few months camped in the Bannorn, was heading out - I knew he’d make it to Amaranthine and a boat to Kirkwall eventually.
“I hear the Free Marches will have lots of opportunities for a merchant such as myself, and my boy’s never been on a ship before,” he declared.
“Ocean, crossing the ocean,” Sandal sang to himself, using a small rune he held as a pretend boat floating over invisible waves.
“The Waking Sea,” Bodahn corrected almost automatically.
I sat down beside the simple dwarf boy, putting one hand on his shoulder gently. “Sandal? You know the runes that go boom?”
“Boom!” he cried, smiling broadly. “Enchantment!”
I nodded. “Exactly. If you end up going into the Deep Roads, you keep some of those with you, you hear?”
He grinned and pressed the rune he was holding into my hand. On closer inspection, it was smoother and shinier than the usual runes we used; I wasn’t sure if it was just a pretty rock, or if Sandal had somehow enchanted it. “Pretty lady.”
I pocketed the stone, ruffling the boy’s hair and then giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. I turned to Bodahn, giving him a quick hug and making him stutter with a kiss too.
“You meet someone named Hawke, you stick with her, okay?”
“My Lady?”
I was never sure how much Bodahn knew about me; he’d have been able to eavesdrop a few times over the year travelling together, I was sure, but he might have been too polite - and he was too clever to admit it in any case. “You take care up there, okay? I’ll miss you.” And it was true; at the very least, Sandal’s enthusiasm and Bodahn’s unending optimism had been worth their weight in gold when things had been difficult during the Blight.
Shale and Caridin were returning to Orzammar with Sereda and the dwarves; they planned another expedition into the Deep Roads to find inactivated golems, and then Caridin wanted to really begin his research into how to make the golems sentient like Shale. And they wanted to go to Cadash Thaig, as well - evidently they’d never made it there before the final battle.
“Thank you, my Lady,” Caridin said after he’d said goodbye to Aedan. He held his enormous stone hand out towards me, and I carefully laid my hand on his. “Your foreknowledge has given me a new purpose, and a chance to atone for my terrible mistake. I wish you well.”
“You too, Caridin. I hope you and Shale find what you’re looking for.” I leaned in to whisper, “Take care of Shale for me, okay? She may be made of stone, but that doesn’t mean she can’t be hurt.”
He nodded sagely, then turned and walked away without looking back.
“I find myself wondering if I shall miss It and Its friends.” Shale approached me, and I turned to face her with a smile. “It is, perhaps, less feeble than I believed when we met, which was a relief.”
“Thanks, Shale. I will miss you. But you can come visit - Soldier’s Peak will be in much better shape before long - and I’ll probably end up in Orzammar at some point. I’ll see you again, I’m sure of it.”
“Tell the Silly Warden to take care of It, or I shall find him and squish him.”
I giggled, hugged the golem - not that she’d have cared, I was sure, but it made me feel better - and watched her stomp away towards the dwarves. I actually will miss her, stubborn acerbic pain-in-the-ass that she is. Huh.
Teagan was going to Redcliffe to run things in his brother’s absence - Eamon was going back to Denerim to meet up with Isolde and Connor, and then I hoped Cailan would find something for him to do elsewhere. I knew Teagan would be much better for Redcliffe than Eamon ever was. The redhead came to bid us goodbye, and I spent a few minutes teasing him about Kaitlyn - until he showed me the ring he planned to give her. “I like your Earth tradition,” he whispered as he put the ring away. “Do you think…are you sure…”
I rolled my eyes. “She’s going to say yes. Don’t be ridiculous. I know you two will be very happy, Teagan. And probably have lots and lots of babies!”
He blushed, and I laughed. He sat with us for the rest of the evening, laughing and carousing, and then he set out at dawn with the Redcliffe forces.
We finally got underway for Denerim much later in the day than we planned. I’d already discovered travelling with nobles was irritating, and though I’d blamed it entirely on Isolde before, it became obvious that pretty much the entire nobility was just as bad. Some of them rode horses which had to be saddled for them, several insisted on carriages, and none of them were willing to wake a few minutes early so their things could be packed. Many of them had carried ridiculous amounts of stuff - I saw two full-sized mattresses being loaded onto a cart, as an example - and no one wanted to carry or pack anything of their own. The few servants were being run off their feet, so some of the soldiers were having to help out which made them cranky, and the whole thing was complete chaos.
Aedan and Alistair decided the Wardens would scout ahead, and so we split into teams of two, slowly meandering through the wilderness of the Southern Bannorn, aiming for the main highway leading to Denerim. A group of soldiers had been assigned to clear the way for the carts and carriages, cutting down inconvenient trees and creating a passable path, so we all kept an eye on them to ensure they weren’t accosted by any darkspawn stragglers or local wildlife.
It had taken two weeks for us to get from Denerim to the Bannorn - travelling only with Wardens was a huge advantage - but it looked like it would probably take close to four to get back, between late starts and slow-moving carts. Things went a little better on the highway, with the carts able to travel more efficiently than on uneven ground, but summer was almost upon us by the time we made it to the city.
Denerim was still all but abandoned when we returned. Messages had been sent out to those evacuated before the battle, but it took time for people to return, and the city was like a ghost town. Walking through the market, only a handful of people - those too stubborn or too sick to leave - stared suspiciously at us, giving it a surreal feel. The market stalls were vacant, some of them sagging, with torn awnings swaying in the slight breeze. The stalls look almost depressed, or…lonely. Strange thought.
The only redeeming feature of the creepy, empty streets was the smell; for once, Denerim didn’t smell like human waste and rotting corpses. There was a lingering, unpleasant odour when the air stagnated, but the light wind kept it moving, and for once I wasn’t forced to breathe through my mouth to avoid nausea.
We marched straight through the city, the fastest trip across I’ve ever made, to be sure, and finally arrived at the gates to the Palace. There were a handful of servants with us, and another handful who’d either managed to return faster than the rest of the evacuated residents, or who had stayed put when everyone else left. There weren’t going to be enough though - not for Cailan, and all the other nobles, never mind the wounded. As a group, we watched the chaos as Cailan tried to organise the few servants they had to getting everyone settled; to avoid making it worse, we decided to take care of ourselves. We helped ourselves to the rooms we’d held previously, putting away our things before meeting for a supper of leftover trail rations in the little dining room we’d used before.
Anders and Wynne excused themselves to help with setting up an infirmary, and after bidding everyone goodnight, I decided to have a long hot bath. Grateful to Sereda for about the millionth time since leaving Orzammar, I filled the tub and slid in, submerging fully before almost falling asleep in the warmth. I didn’t stir until Alistair joined me, and after spending far too much time ensuring we were completely, squeaky clean, we both collapsed onto the bed and fell straight asleep.
We were all surprised to wake up and find elven servants bringing us breakfast and offering to run baths for anyone who needed them. The confusion only lasted a few minutes, until Kallian arrived, and the elves all jumped to attention before rushing away breathlessly to start hauling water.
“Kallian?” Wulf stood immediately, staring at the beautiful elf with dark, uncertain eyes.
Ignoring his obvious discomfort, or perhaps nervousness, she pulled the former werewolf into a hug, pressing her forehead against his sweetly, and the battle-hardened Grey Warden practically melted.
“What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be on a boat, or in the Free Marches.” Wulf shook her slightly, and she chuckled.
“What can I say? I’ve never been good at following orders.” Wulf growled, and she winced. “Look, a bunch of families from the Alienage wouldn’t leave. They were afraid being loaded onto carts and forced to leave together was an excuse to sell them to Tevinter or kill them outright. So they stayed. But there were looters, and then a fire, and they were in danger. When I realised I couldn’t convince them all to go, I stayed too, and brought them here. The guards recognised me and let us in. There was food, beds, and plenty of places to hide if the darkspawn had come. And together, we helped the guards keep the looters out of the Palace.
“In return for being safe in the Palace, I convinced them that if I was right, and that the King wasn’t selling the rest of the elves or hurting them, they’d all help out here until the servants came back.”
“You could have been killed!” Wulf was squeezing her waist now, angry and worried and completely exasperated, and she kissed his cheek as she slipped out of his grasp somehow.
“But I wasn’t. I’m fine, Wulf. And now we have people to help out until everyone gets back.”
Leliana approached the elf, who looked much less haunted than she had when we’d left, and claimed a hug as well. “Nicely done, Kallian.” We all agreed, sending her smiles and nods of approval.
“So anyway, I’m here to inform you that his Majesty would like to meet with the Warden Commanders and Lady Theirin at your earliest convenience.”
Aedan and Alistair exchanged pouts, and I laughed. “Come on, boys. Let’s not keep the King waiting.”
Kallian escorted us to another wing of the Palace, where the furniture had largely been moved out of two adjacent ballrooms, and instead pallets had been built for the wounded soldiers. Cailan paced through the makeshift infirmary, calling out orders and stopping to hold a hand or wipe the brow of an injured person as he passed by. Waving acknowledgement when he saw us, he spoke briefly to a couple of people who appeared to be more-or-less in charge, then rushed over to us.
His skin was slightly sallow, dark circles ringed both of his eyes, and he was wearing the same clothes from the evening before. His expression was one of grim determination overriding complete exhaustion, and Alistair and I exchanged worried glances before following him down a hallway to a nearby sitting room.
He slumped into a chair, sighing heavily, and we all did the same as he gestured to chairs. “Kallian? Would you join us?”
The elf, surprised, settled into a chair gracefully, and it was nice to see she didn’t appear nervous in a relatively small room with three human men. We all turned our attention to the exhausted king.
“Cailan?” I ventured. “When was the last time you slept?”
He twitched slightly, and I scowled - he was preparing to lie to me, and I wasn’t going to have any of that. “The truth, if you please.”
He sighed. “On the road. There’s been too much to do since we arrived.”
“Cailan…” Aedan’s tone was almost motherly, and I stifled the urge to giggle.
“Tonight, okay? I promise. But that’s not why I asked you here, so could you all quit pretending to be my parents for a second or two?”
I did laugh at that, and we all flushed slightly. “Yes your Majesty,” I teased, and even Kallian giggled as Cailan stuck his tongue out at me. “How may we assist the Crown?”
“Alright, so…hear me out before you make a judgement, but…I want to burn down the Alienage.”
Chapter One Hundred Sixteen: *Three Campfires
The Joining that night went about as well as expected. While three mages and three templars had survived until the potion was ready, most of them were ravaged by the taint, barely able to stay upright, skin blackening, hair falling out, fever running rampant through their ruined bodies. Alim and Rolan were the exceptions; the mage looked pale, but otherwise well, and Rolan had black veins visible only under the skin of his hands and arms. Unsurprisingly, they were the only two who survived, and in Rolan’s case, it was a close thing - he convulsed and stopped breathing for a handful of agonising seconds before he seemed to stabilise.
It was interesting, feeling the taint alter in the bodies of the two who survived - overshadowed, of course, by the horror of losing four more recruits, not to mention all of those Aedan and Alistair must have had to put out of their misery earlier. I’d warned Zevran that Aedan would need some extra support later; no matter how necessary, wielding the sword of mercy was still an execution. Aedan would never admit that it bothered him - stubborn ass - but having Zevran prepared to handle the emotional storm could only be a good thing. And I’d be ready for Alistair, whatever he needed.
Anders sighed sadly, eyeing Rolan’s unconscious form; it would be worse, I knew, if he had known what I did about the future, instead of just generally knowing that the man was an ass. Alistair and I shared a lingering glance, both resolved not to allow bigotry to impact our friends who just happened to be mages.
Pyres had been prepared for those who didn’t make it, and we all had a moment of silence - a disgruntled, irritated, depressed silence - as Aedan and Alistair lit them. Alim and Rolan woke within the hour, and after being fed a Warden-sized snack, were ushered to tents to get some much-needed rest.
Cailan had been informed of the Grand Cleric’s disgusting decision to hide tainted mages and templars from the Grey Wardens, and from the thunderous expression on his face, I guessed that when he confronted the old hag, the fight would be epic. I was too tired and too sad, however, to find out, and I dragged Alistair back to our tent immediately after the new surviving Grey Wardens recovered.
My husband had been too quiet since they’d returned from the Chantry’s hidden camp; I hadn’t counted how many people had been tainted, but given only six left to take the Joining, I was guessing Alistair and Aedan both had probably granted merciful deaths to a dozen or more. I knew Alistair wouldn’t want to talk about it with me - he seemed to remain convinced that if I was forced to confront some of the more brutal truths about life in Thedas and the acts he had no choice but to participate in, I’d lose respect for him, or lose the desire to stay in Thedas altogether.
Instead of discussing the details, I helped him take off his dragonbone armour, undressed myself, and pulled him down into our combined bedroll, allowing him to bury his face in my belly while I held him and stroked my fingers through his scruffy hair.
“I love you, you know that, right?”
He shuddered, and I dug my fingers in harder, kneading his scalp. The noise outside slowly settled as the camp went to sleep, and he continued to hold me, pressing his face into my skin. I’d almost have thought he’d fallen asleep except for the periodic spasms that passed through him; finally, after what might have been a half hour, I felt the telling wetness of the tears he’d probably been trying to deny since morning spilling onto my stomach.
He looked up, then, but his expression, instead of the regret or sadness I expected, was furious.
“How dare she? That…that…bitch!” He was almost stuttering in his anger.
I nodded. What else could I add? He’s not wrong, and I’d like to say worse things about her.
He lowered his eyes, whispering so softly I could barely hear him. “Being a leader is even worse than I expected.”
I couldn’t deny it; he was right. It was often easier to follow, to let someone else make the hard decisions and live with the consequences. I stroked his cheek with one finger. “What do you need?”
His eyes darkened as we made eye contact again and he saw the truth in mine - whatever he needed, I’d give, and give gladly.
“You,” he replied, his voice a plea that sent a shiver of pleasure down my spine.
I nodded, and with one massive push, reversed our positions quickly, pressing him down on his back as I leaned over him, capturing his lips in a searing kiss. He tried to chase me as I pulled away, but I held him down with one hand in the centre of his chest. After all the times he’d held me, distracted me, kept me sane through the Deep Roads and everything with Duncan…the least I could do was return the favour, and I planned to make it count.
I started sensually; I left him on the bedroll and dug through my things until I found a clean cloth, and my little stone shower head. With a cautious movement, I dampened the cloth with warm water, and then turned to carefully wipe his face with the warm, wet fabric. I slowly removed sweat and dirt as I dragged the cloth down his neck, his bulging, muscular arms, and his lean, sculpted abdomen. He laid quietly, his eyes never leaving me as I worked, and while I blushed periodically as I reached across him, I didn’t stop until his entire upper body had been cleansed.
It was his turn to blush as I washed the rest of him, and then spent the next while making sure he was thoroughly distracted from the events of the day.
We collapsed together onto our bedroll, and I curled up in his arms, pulling the covers over us both. He kissed my temple, and we fell asleep together, sated and smiling.
*****
The next morning, it became obvious the Wardens were going to have a few more challenges than we’d even anticipated. With so many Grey Wardens, as well as the rest of our companions, our group had become large and somewhat unwieldy - and then there were the politics.
At breakfast, Alim and Jowan immediately began acting like feral cats, backs up and hissing at each other. I wasn’t surprised; Alim was the reason Jowan had been threatened with Tranquility, after all - whether justified or not, I still wasn’t sure - but given the large group, we decided two campfires were perhaps a good idea, and we separated the two mages with alacrity. At the same time, Anders and Alim both bristled around Rolan, who refused to call any of the mages by their names, instead calling them ‘Mage’ or ‘Warden’ in mocking tones. Aedan and Alistair both tried to intervene, with little success - proving a ‘tone’ was difficult, after all, and he was careful to do nothing that technically crossed the line, though he was rebuked strongly until he desisted - and the two campfire plan changed to three.
Conrad and Dougal had a falling out over the Dark Ritual and Conrad’s choice to stay in Ferelden, and Oghren and Faren were suddenly not on speaking terms, for no reason I was able to ascertain.
In the end, Loghain and Sten joined Rolan at one campfire, Conrad and Faren joined Anders, Solona, and Jowan at another, and Alim, Dougal, and Oghren sat sullenly at a third. The rest of us - Alistair and I, as well as Aedan, Zevran, Bel, Riordan, Leliana, and Mornwulf - rotated through all three, trying to bridge the gaps and keep everyone calm.
The following day, Nathaniel, Fergus, and a portion of the Ferelden Army were going to be leaving for Highever; Aedan took the opportunity to solve some of the problems we were having.
“I want to send some of the Wardens with Nathaniel. They can help out around Highever, then go with the Arl to Amaranthine and begin preparing for the darkspawn assaults we know will be coming,” Aedan muttered to Alistair and I.
“Good idea. And if we plan it right, maybe fewer problems with those left behind?” I hope.
“Exactly,” Aedan agreed. “I also think we should send a smaller group to Soldier’s Peak - they can work with Avernus, and help out the Drydens with getting everything ready.”
“I’d send Jowan to Soldier’s Peak,” I suggested. “Avernus will work better with a mage, and our other options are less likely to be open to working with an ancient blood mage. Anders and Alim both would probably prefer to kill him.”
“What if we send Conrad with Oghren, Bel, and Rolan to Amaranthine? No conflict there, and Conrad can handle any trouble Rolan tries to make.” Alistair looked at us, briefly surprised when neither of us disagreed with his suggestion. “We obviously need Sten, Loghain, Riordan, Dougal, and the three of us in Denerim, for a while at least.”
“So that leaves Jowan and…Wulf? For Soldier’s Peak?” Aedan suggested.
“Not Wulf,” I interjected, thinking of Kallian. “Take him to Denerim.”
Aedan gave me a knowing look, but didn’t ask. “What about Faren? He’s pretty practical - pragmatic, even - and doesn’t seem bothered by mages.”
“They’ll need an escort,” Alistair agreed. “I’ll ask Cailan.”
“He promised to provide the Peak with a guard anyway, until I could hire my own people. I’m sure he’ll agree.”
I was right, and it was decided, with Cailan’s approval, to send a group of soldiers with the two Wardens to Soldier’s Peak, but not before he made the group officially swear fealty to me. I was extremely uncomfortable with the entire thing, but he insisted it was the only way to ensure the loyalty of the men I would have directly under my command.
He asked for volunteers, and apparently ended up having to refuse dozens when he picked fifteen soldiers to transfer. Apparently the Wardens’ reputation had earned admirers, and there was no shortage of people willing to work with us. Some of them even offered to join the Wardens, but Aedan declined, saying that he wanted to get the current Wardens settled before he accepted any more, but that he would keep them in mind. There were a few that seemed disappointed, but Aedan’s sincerity was obvious, and I knew that, down the road, he would truly consider those who proved themselves and were still interested.
With the exception of one. Among the group of knights who’d volunteered to go to the Peak was one familiar face that I doubted I’d ever forget, nor would I allow her to go through the Joining. There were few women among the group, and that made Ser Mhairi stand out even more from her peers. When she volunteered to Join the Wardens, I caught Aedan’s eye, and very subtly shook my head ‘no’. I admired Mhairi’s eagerness and desire to serve, but no one would benefit from her death, least of all her. While Avernus may have updated the Joining Potion, I wasn’t ready to trust it and use the poor woman as a guinea pig.
What I did, instead, was accept the fealty of the fifteen knights, including Mhairi, and then promote her to be the leader of the group - the Lieutenant, Alistair whispered in my ear when it became obvious I had no idea what rank to call her. Maybe if she sees advancement in her future outside the Wardens, she won’t be so keen to join and we won’t have to refuse. She seemed surprised at being singled out, but stepped forward confidently and agreed to take command of the small platoon of men assigned to me.
I wondered if some of them would balk at being placed under the command of a woman - either Mhairi or myself - but none of them even blinked. There were a few surprised glances at Mhairi’s sudden promotion, but my guess was that she lacked seniority over some of the people she’d just been put in charge of. I’ll ask Faren to keep an eye on her and see if she’s competent.
I made it clear to the knights that, in my absence, they would follow directions from Faren and Levi Dryden, my seneschal. They were to secure the fortress, aid in repairs and renovations as needed, begin patrols, and mark the route through the maze leading up to the Peak to make it more accessible. Aedan gave Faren a map, which he’d copied from the one he made for himself on their way there the first time.
And then it was time for goodbyes. The two groups leaving - for Highever and for Soldier’s Peak - were planning to march at dawn, so there’d be no time for talk in the morning. Fergus shook hands with Cailan and Alistair, pulled an agitated Aedan in for a tight hug, and with a glance in my direction that I couldn’t interpret, he excused himself to get the Highever troops ready. Cailan bid those leaving good luck. The rest of us went back to the Warden camp and spent the evening talking and laughing together. Faren and Oghren seemed to have called a truce, and the two started a drinking contest that soon had them unconscious together, and for once not only Conrad, but Dougal joined in.
Perhaps there hadn’t been time for complete forgiveness, but the upcoming parting had made everyone rethink their hostilities, it seemed. Rolan, Alim, Sten, and Loghain retired early to their tents. I got the opportunity to hug everyone leaving us, though it wasn’t a terribly sad farewell since I knew we’d be seeing them again before too long.
Finally, everyone settled into tents. I woke early, hearing the packing of the Wardens leaving, and slipped out of the tent I shared with Alistair just in time to see Nathaniel sneak out of Leliana’s tent, face sombre. I hugged Jowan, Conrad, and the dwarves one last time and then slipped into Leli’s tent.
The bard was laying listlessly on her bedroll, naked, though with a blanket covering her; she startled and tried to cover herself better when I entered, but relaxed when I reassured her it was just me.
“You okay?” I asked her, concerned for the hopeless expression on her face.
She attempted to smile at me, but it fell flat. “I will be fine, my friend.” I frowned, and she sighed. “I have an obligation. I cannot stay, any more than he can go.”
“Dorothea?” She nodded. “But, Leli…she doesn’t own you. The Chantry doesn’t. You need to do what’s right for you, too. In the game, the next one?” She nodded again. “You’re the Left Hand of the Divine. You end up trying to improve the situation in Kirkwall. But Leli…you didn’t look happy. You were up to your eyeballs in conspiracies and intrigue, but you never smiled. You were involved with a Seeker doing some rather shady things. That isn’t who you have to be!”
“She saved me!”
“And if she knew that what she had planned for you would make you miserable, do you think she’d still insist on going forward with that?”
The bard looked at me, a single tear sliding down her cheek, then turned away, burying her face in her pillow. I rubbed her back, silently offering support, until she relaxed again.
“Perhaps there is a way to aid Dorothea, and still remain yourself. To stay with Nathaniel. Just…think about it, okay?”
She squeezed my hand gratefully. “Dorothea really becomes the Divine?”
I nodded. “In the game, anyway. I suppose things might have changed since then. Justinia, I think. That’s the name she takes. You say, in the game, that she’s a good person who thinks mages deserve to be treated fairly, who wants to reform the Circles and help people. She sounds…good.”
“She is.”
“I’m glad. We could use some of that.” I slapped her hip with a smile. “Now put on some clothes, lazy girl. You can’t just lay around naked all day!”
She laughed and I grinned as I climbed out of her tent. The six Wardens were gone, and Aedan had just started breakfast. With fewer of us - and the troublemakers temporarily separated - we kept just two campfires; while Aedan worked over a pot at one, I started a pot of porridge at the other. Soon the smell of food had Wardens tumbling out of their tents, and we all settled in to eat.
Afterwards, Aedan informed us that we would be leaving for Denerim in two days. “The wagons to transport the injured have arrived, and they’ll follow behind, but we will be accompanying Cailan back to Denerim to await the Weisshaupt delegation, Cailan’s formal re-coronation, and the celebrations planned for the end of the Blight. Afterwards, Loghain, Riordan, and Dougal will be leaving for Jader, Sten for Seheron, and the rest of us will travel to Amaranthine.
“What about you, Leliana? The Blight is over. What will you do next?”
Leliana wiped her mouth daintily and smiled. “I’d like to come with you to Denerim, if you don’t mind, and perhaps to Amaranthine after that for a short time. I have some obligations to a friend in Orlais to fulfill after that, but,” she glanced at me with a sly smile, “I think I can delay those for a little while.”
“Excellent!” Leliana actually looked surprised at Aedan’s enthusiasm. “What? I could use a good archer to train any new recruits. And you tell the best stories.”
The bard giggled happily and blushed, and Aedan turned to Wynne, who had joined us for the first time in what felt like months. “And you, Wynne? I know you’ve been helping out with the wounded. Will you be travelling with us?”
The mage nodded, looking pleased. “I will. His Majesty has asked me to remain at court for a time as a healer, and will allow me to continue working with the soldiers there. After his confrontation with the Grand Cleric, I feel I may be able to recruit some of the other healers and possibly gain crown support to open a free clinic in Denerim. I won’t stay there forever - I have some research of my own to do, and Shale and Caridin have requested my help in discovering the key to golem sentience - but I’d like to get things established, perhaps aid in the transition to having more free mages outside the Circle.”
I looked at the healer in shock. “I thought it might be nasty, but I never heard what happened with Cailan and the Grand Cleric. I assumed they hadn’t talked yet. What did happen?”
Aedan laughed. “It was marvellous, Sierra. I wish you’d been there. Cailan was furious, and he had most of the nobility standing with him, looking supportive even if they didn’t all totally understand what he was up to, or agree. He called her a ‘self-serving, shrivelled-up, power-hungry hag,’ wasn’t it?”
He looked at Zevran for confirmation, the elf blushed slightly and nodded. “Exactly so, amore mio. I wasn’t aware you knew of my…presence.”
I raised my eyebrow - Zevran had snuck in, and been caught? Hysterical - but Aedan just laughed. “I know you, Zevran. Anyway, Cailan accused the old bitch of murder, and told her he was going to make a plea to the Divine to have her replaced.”
Leliana interjected. “The Divine will have little to do with it, no? Most Holy is getting on in years, and will likely have forgotten that Orlais no longer rules over Ferelden.”
Aedan nodded. “Her advisors, the most senior Grand Clerics, will have to deal with it - it will be interesting to see what happens there. Anyway, Cailan told Elemena she may remain in Denerim for now, but that he would consider exiling her completely if she did anything to undermine him or the Wardens again. And he demanded that she grant the Circle some independence - he didn’t threaten it, exactly, but the implication that he’d place the Circle under secular control if she didn’t agree was certainly obvious. Greagoir didn’t say a word, but it was clear even he approved. So now the Circle is going to train mages, but they’ll be permitted family visitors when they’re young, and will be allowed to leave the Circle more permanently after they’re Harrowed if they apply for permission. They’ll have to check in at the local Chantry wherever they go, and it only applies in Ferelden, obviously, but they’ll be able to live outside direct templar supervision.”
I snuck a look at Wynne, surprised at her beatific smile. She’d always seemed so fanatically religious before, and I thought she might have been worried about allowing mages too much freedom.
She returned my look with a wink. “What? Some very wise person I know convinced me that I have to look at what the Circle is attempting to accomplish, and decide if the current status quo is achieving that. It is not. I saw what desperation drove some mages to in Uldred’s uprising. He may have been possessed, but the rest were just…desperate. I’m an Equitarian, Sierra - we need the Circles, but not as prisons. You were right.”
I blushed. “I distinctly don’t remember saying that.”
She chuckled. “I may have paraphrased a little.”
Anders looked absolutely astonished, and I giggled at the open-mouthed expression on his face. “The Circle is independent?”
“Well, not totally. But more than it was, yes. There’ll still be Chantry oversight, and not all applications to leave the Circle will be approved if the First Enchanter and Knight-Commander don’t think the applicant is stable, but some mages will be allowed to live on their own.” Aedan looked pleased, proud even, and I knew he was as impressed with Cailan as I was. Taking away the Circle entirely was a recipe for disaster - mages did need somewhere to go and learn to control their powers, and those who’d been living in Circles shouldn’t be dumped out unceremoniously with nowhere to go - but the way things were just wasn’t going to be sustainable.
Over the next two days, we ended up spending some time with Sereda - who was engaged to a Deshyr’s son, one of Harrowmont’s supporters, not the former casteless she’d taken on as her second - and heard about how the changes had been going in Orzammar. They’d recovered Aeducan Thaig, as a result of the war games they’d used as training exercises for the Warrior and Military Castes, and hoped that by the time they returned to Orzammar, most of the Thaig would have been cleared of the taint and habitable. She’d found some stone masons willing to train some of the former casteless as labourers, and had rebuilt Dust Town, settling it with labourers, military, and servants who needed accommodations. She planned to populate much of the Aeducan Thaig with the former Casteless, who would be allowed to set up businesses and provide services to the few upper Caste families who chose to resettle there - for generous tax advantages, of course.
Gorim joined us, as he was no longer needed on the war council as a liaison, and would be returning to his family in Denerim. He and Sereda exchanged some tortured glances, but he seemed almost relieved to be going home, once she’d left at least.
Dariel came to visit as well, confirming he would be staying with Lanaya’s clan. He and Mithra, his new bond-mate, had been acting as messengers between Lanaya and Cailan, but would be heading out to Ostagar with the rest of the clan. He thanked us, again, for sparing his life in the ambush where we’d met, and for introducing him to his new clan. He even shook my hand, despite his fear of templars, and I wished him well. I knew Lanaya would help him with his magic and with proving himself to the clan.
Bodahn, who’d evidently made a fortune selling supplies to the army over the previous few months camped in the Bannorn, was heading out - I knew he’d make it to Amaranthine and a boat to Kirkwall eventually.
“I hear the Free Marches will have lots of opportunities for a merchant such as myself, and my boy’s never been on a ship before,” he declared.
“Ocean, crossing the ocean,” Sandal sang to himself, using a small rune he held as a pretend boat floating over invisible waves.
“The Waking Sea,” Bodahn corrected almost automatically.
I sat down beside the simple dwarf boy, putting one hand on his shoulder gently. “Sandal? You know the runes that go boom?”
“Boom!” he cried, smiling broadly. “Enchantment!”
I nodded. “Exactly. If you end up going into the Deep Roads, you keep some of those with you, you hear?”
He grinned and pressed the rune he was holding into my hand. On closer inspection, it was smoother and shinier than the usual runes we used; I wasn’t sure if it was just a pretty rock, or if Sandal had somehow enchanted it. “Pretty lady.”
I pocketed the stone, ruffling the boy’s hair and then giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. I turned to Bodahn, giving him a quick hug and making him stutter with a kiss too.
“You meet someone named Hawke, you stick with her, okay?”
“My Lady?”
I was never sure how much Bodahn knew about me; he’d have been able to eavesdrop a few times over the year travelling together, I was sure, but he might have been too polite - and he was too clever to admit it in any case. “You take care up there, okay? I’ll miss you.” And it was true; at the very least, Sandal’s enthusiasm and Bodahn’s unending optimism had been worth their weight in gold when things had been difficult during the Blight.
Shale and Caridin were returning to Orzammar with Sereda and the dwarves; they planned another expedition into the Deep Roads to find inactivated golems, and then Caridin wanted to really begin his research into how to make the golems sentient like Shale. And they wanted to go to Cadash Thaig, as well - evidently they’d never made it there before the final battle.
“Thank you, my Lady,” Caridin said after he’d said goodbye to Aedan. He held his enormous stone hand out towards me, and I carefully laid my hand on his. “Your foreknowledge has given me a new purpose, and a chance to atone for my terrible mistake. I wish you well.”
“You too, Caridin. I hope you and Shale find what you’re looking for.” I leaned in to whisper, “Take care of Shale for me, okay? She may be made of stone, but that doesn’t mean she can’t be hurt.”
He nodded sagely, then turned and walked away without looking back.
“I find myself wondering if I shall miss It and Its friends.” Shale approached me, and I turned to face her with a smile. “It is, perhaps, less feeble than I believed when we met, which was a relief.”
“Thanks, Shale. I will miss you. But you can come visit - Soldier’s Peak will be in much better shape before long - and I’ll probably end up in Orzammar at some point. I’ll see you again, I’m sure of it.”
“Tell the Silly Warden to take care of It, or I shall find him and squish him.”
I giggled, hugged the golem - not that she’d have cared, I was sure, but it made me feel better - and watched her stomp away towards the dwarves. I actually will miss her, stubborn acerbic pain-in-the-ass that she is. Huh.
Teagan was going to Redcliffe to run things in his brother’s absence - Eamon was going back to Denerim to meet up with Isolde and Connor, and then I hoped Cailan would find something for him to do elsewhere. I knew Teagan would be much better for Redcliffe than Eamon ever was. The redhead came to bid us goodbye, and I spent a few minutes teasing him about Kaitlyn - until he showed me the ring he planned to give her. “I like your Earth tradition,” he whispered as he put the ring away. “Do you think…are you sure…”
I rolled my eyes. “She’s going to say yes. Don’t be ridiculous. I know you two will be very happy, Teagan. And probably have lots and lots of babies!”
He blushed, and I laughed. He sat with us for the rest of the evening, laughing and carousing, and then he set out at dawn with the Redcliffe forces.
We finally got underway for Denerim much later in the day than we planned. I’d already discovered travelling with nobles was irritating, and though I’d blamed it entirely on Isolde before, it became obvious that pretty much the entire nobility was just as bad. Some of them rode horses which had to be saddled for them, several insisted on carriages, and none of them were willing to wake a few minutes early so their things could be packed. Many of them had carried ridiculous amounts of stuff - I saw two full-sized mattresses being loaded onto a cart, as an example - and no one wanted to carry or pack anything of their own. The few servants were being run off their feet, so some of the soldiers were having to help out which made them cranky, and the whole thing was complete chaos.
Aedan and Alistair decided the Wardens would scout ahead, and so we split into teams of two, slowly meandering through the wilderness of the Southern Bannorn, aiming for the main highway leading to Denerim. A group of soldiers had been assigned to clear the way for the carts and carriages, cutting down inconvenient trees and creating a passable path, so we all kept an eye on them to ensure they weren’t accosted by any darkspawn stragglers or local wildlife.
It had taken two weeks for us to get from Denerim to the Bannorn - travelling only with Wardens was a huge advantage - but it looked like it would probably take close to four to get back, between late starts and slow-moving carts. Things went a little better on the highway, with the carts able to travel more efficiently than on uneven ground, but summer was almost upon us by the time we made it to the city.
Denerim was still all but abandoned when we returned. Messages had been sent out to those evacuated before the battle, but it took time for people to return, and the city was like a ghost town. Walking through the market, only a handful of people - those too stubborn or too sick to leave - stared suspiciously at us, giving it a surreal feel. The market stalls were vacant, some of them sagging, with torn awnings swaying in the slight breeze. The stalls look almost depressed, or…lonely. Strange thought.
The only redeeming feature of the creepy, empty streets was the smell; for once, Denerim didn’t smell like human waste and rotting corpses. There was a lingering, unpleasant odour when the air stagnated, but the light wind kept it moving, and for once I wasn’t forced to breathe through my mouth to avoid nausea.
We marched straight through the city, the fastest trip across I’ve ever made, to be sure, and finally arrived at the gates to the Palace. There were a handful of servants with us, and another handful who’d either managed to return faster than the rest of the evacuated residents, or who had stayed put when everyone else left. There weren’t going to be enough though - not for Cailan, and all the other nobles, never mind the wounded. As a group, we watched the chaos as Cailan tried to organise the few servants they had to getting everyone settled; to avoid making it worse, we decided to take care of ourselves. We helped ourselves to the rooms we’d held previously, putting away our things before meeting for a supper of leftover trail rations in the little dining room we’d used before.
Anders and Wynne excused themselves to help with setting up an infirmary, and after bidding everyone goodnight, I decided to have a long hot bath. Grateful to Sereda for about the millionth time since leaving Orzammar, I filled the tub and slid in, submerging fully before almost falling asleep in the warmth. I didn’t stir until Alistair joined me, and after spending far too much time ensuring we were completely, squeaky clean, we both collapsed onto the bed and fell straight asleep.
We were all surprised to wake up and find elven servants bringing us breakfast and offering to run baths for anyone who needed them. The confusion only lasted a few minutes, until Kallian arrived, and the elves all jumped to attention before rushing away breathlessly to start hauling water.
“Kallian?” Wulf stood immediately, staring at the beautiful elf with dark, uncertain eyes.
Ignoring his obvious discomfort, or perhaps nervousness, she pulled the former werewolf into a hug, pressing her forehead against his sweetly, and the battle-hardened Grey Warden practically melted.
“What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be on a boat, or in the Free Marches.” Wulf shook her slightly, and she chuckled.
“What can I say? I’ve never been good at following orders.” Wulf growled, and she winced. “Look, a bunch of families from the Alienage wouldn’t leave. They were afraid being loaded onto carts and forced to leave together was an excuse to sell them to Tevinter or kill them outright. So they stayed. But there were looters, and then a fire, and they were in danger. When I realised I couldn’t convince them all to go, I stayed too, and brought them here. The guards recognised me and let us in. There was food, beds, and plenty of places to hide if the darkspawn had come. And together, we helped the guards keep the looters out of the Palace.
“In return for being safe in the Palace, I convinced them that if I was right, and that the King wasn’t selling the rest of the elves or hurting them, they’d all help out here until the servants came back.”
“You could have been killed!” Wulf was squeezing her waist now, angry and worried and completely exasperated, and she kissed his cheek as she slipped out of his grasp somehow.
“But I wasn’t. I’m fine, Wulf. And now we have people to help out until everyone gets back.”
Leliana approached the elf, who looked much less haunted than she had when we’d left, and claimed a hug as well. “Nicely done, Kallian.” We all agreed, sending her smiles and nods of approval.
“So anyway, I’m here to inform you that his Majesty would like to meet with the Warden Commanders and Lady Theirin at your earliest convenience.”
Aedan and Alistair exchanged pouts, and I laughed. “Come on, boys. Let’s not keep the King waiting.”
Kallian escorted us to another wing of the Palace, where the furniture had largely been moved out of two adjacent ballrooms, and instead pallets had been built for the wounded soldiers. Cailan paced through the makeshift infirmary, calling out orders and stopping to hold a hand or wipe the brow of an injured person as he passed by. Waving acknowledgement when he saw us, he spoke briefly to a couple of people who appeared to be more-or-less in charge, then rushed over to us.
His skin was slightly sallow, dark circles ringed both of his eyes, and he was wearing the same clothes from the evening before. His expression was one of grim determination overriding complete exhaustion, and Alistair and I exchanged worried glances before following him down a hallway to a nearby sitting room.
He slumped into a chair, sighing heavily, and we all did the same as he gestured to chairs. “Kallian? Would you join us?”
The elf, surprised, settled into a chair gracefully, and it was nice to see she didn’t appear nervous in a relatively small room with three human men. We all turned our attention to the exhausted king.
“Cailan?” I ventured. “When was the last time you slept?”
He twitched slightly, and I scowled - he was preparing to lie to me, and I wasn’t going to have any of that. “The truth, if you please.”
He sighed. “On the road. There’s been too much to do since we arrived.”
“Cailan…” Aedan’s tone was almost motherly, and I stifled the urge to giggle.
“Tonight, okay? I promise. But that’s not why I asked you here, so could you all quit pretending to be my parents for a second or two?”
I did laugh at that, and we all flushed slightly. “Yes your Majesty,” I teased, and even Kallian giggled as Cailan stuck his tongue out at me. “How may we assist the Crown?”
“Alright, so…hear me out before you make a judgement, but…I want to burn down the Alienage.”