The Warden Commander Lichae Mahariel reported himself as being totally exhausted the moment that the Architect had vanished and The Mother was defeated. Even despite this, everyone knew that the very moment he'd arrived back in Vigil's Keep he'd done all he could do to help. There wasn't much, of course. He was a Dalish, not a Dwarven stonesmith, or a house builder, or 'much of anything' as he'd said, but he did his best with whatever task he could do, as he always did. Their Warden Commander spent the next few days tending to the wounded and imparting a helping pair of hands wherever he could, getting the barest few hours of sleep here and there until his Mabari, Meyeh, and companions somehow all decided, at the same time, that it was time for him to get a real rest, in a real bed.
That was how Lichae ended up herded into a bedroom, and with Meyeh laying in front of the door. Well, humans said to let sleeping dogs lie for a reason, and when Meyeh growled at him everytime the elf so much as glanced as the door Lichae eventually gave in and went to bed. He'd ended up sleeping over 12 hours, and only Oghren saying 'this happened after fighting the Archdemon, too' stopped Anders from going into the room to shake the Warden awake to make sure he was only sleeping and not dead.
A messenger found him early in the morning a week after the return to Vigil's Keep, halfway off his bed and still dressed. No one could say for sure what set Lichae (without seeing the letter), but he burst out of the room with the letter in his hands, ignoring called questions and heading out of the keep, out of the walls. It took both ice and roots from Anders and Velanna to stop him, and Oghren and Nathanial both had to take an arm in order to drag the Commander back to the keep.
They couldn't let their Warden run off to Denerim in what he was wearing, after all. It didn't matter that the letter clenched in his hand was so disturbing that he was prepared to walk to Denerim in bare feet and without a shirt.
Even if there were Templars taking the children of his people.
The messenger left days before Lichae, and yet the Dalish and his Mabari passed him on the road. Unlike the shemlens who stuck to the road, he was fearless and used to the woods. He needed no roads. Game trails across the countryside were his path, and his stamina could keep him running for long distances as long as he was mostly unburdened. It was something he'd always done, chasing after prey in a hunt, and while there was an urgency to chasing a deer, or a stag, or anythig else, this was a whole different urgency. This was about the fate of his people.
The letter had been from the Warden in the compound of Denerim, though the message had been from the Dalish settling around Ostagar. The chantry had moved into the nearest human settlement during the time the Dalish had settled, and with them came Templar. It wasn't hard to find out what Dalish children were magical when the gift showed. The keepers, after all, paid extra attention to the da'len who were blessed.
To Lichae, such children were doubly blessed. He had never had the gift, despite the fact that his father had been a Keeper in his time. Lichae could remember his clan half watching him, curiously, but the gift had never come. No, his skills had come in other areas, and they smiled and said that he'd taken after his mother. A fine hunter was what they'd hoped for, and he had not disappointed. No, he'd spent his life trying to become a person they could be proud of.
Lichae didn't even nod in greeting to the guards in Denerim as he marched through the streets. He was panting, yes, and tired, but he refused to rest. Not until he reached the bottom of this and there were no more Templars hunting his people. Side alleys and side streets made the trip to the castle short enough, though it had never seemed so long.
Well, the faster he got this over with, the faster he could rest.
The guards knew him by sight and he was let into the castle without any question. He made his way directly for Anora's quarters. Where else would she be?
"Is the lady in?" Lichae asked, putting on a pleasant smile for the guards.
"Well, yes-" one guard started, and that was all Lichae needed.
They couldn't stop him from going right in. He kicked the door open and Anora jumped at her desk. When one of the guards grabbed the elf's shoulder to stop him, Lichae grabbed his wrist. He twisted, and there was a large crack that left the guard holding his wrist. Zevran had taught him that handy trick.
"Stand down," Anora said, before the other guard could jump into action. "...Take him and take care of that wrist. I'm sure that our Warden Commander can protect me if the need arises."
Lichae crossed his arms as the guards left, closing the door behind them.
"Can I help you, Warden Commander?" Anora asked, raising an eyebrow. She clasped her hands together, resting them in her lap.
"Remove your Chantry's Templars from the Dalish settlement." Lichae kept his arms crossed. He was tired and felt like he could have fallen over at any moment, but he kept awake. This was Dalish pride he had, and if he didn't have that then what did he have? If he could not keep his people safe, than what good was he? The idea of being able to help his people was the only thing keeping him here, with the Wardens, instead of returning to the clans.
"The...Do you have any idea how dangerous that is? Apostates are dangerous enough as it is, and Dalish on top of that-"
"Remove them!" Lichae said, raising his voice. It was not something that happened often, and it was startling. "If you do not, then I will remove them myself. My people will not react well to their children being taken and turned into your circle pets!" He reached over his shoulder, to his quiver, and pulled out a single arrow. "I am an excellent marksman, Queen of Ferelden. I have held a bow since the moment I was strong enough to lift it. I assure you, I, and any Dalish hunter worth his vassalin, can fire an arrow and kill a templar without them even knowing they are being hunted. You'd be surprised how many gaps there are in armor, at how loud Templar are when they're hunting."
Anora's didn't bat an eyelash, though she did narrow her lips. "You are not helping your cause. Enough people see the Dalish as barbarians, and as your Queen I-"
"You are not my Queen, nor that of the Dalish! Firstly I am a Dalish, and I will watch out for my people. Then I am a Warden. That leaves you last on who I listen to." Lichae rested a hand on her desk, leaning against it, still holding his arrow in his other hand. "Andraste did not free our people from slavery so we could be controlled, over and over. We have offered homes to those in the Alienage who would leave, reduced your population there, and made it easier to handle. We have settled in the land that you gave us to do what we would with it. I have seen the Kocari Wilds, and you should be thanking us for accepting it so soon after a Blight, instead of harassing us and our people about our Keepers."
"If your people become abominations-"
"Then we will kill them ourselves, as we have been doing all this time! There is no reason for your Templar, or your Chantry, to interfere with us! Those who came from the city and wish to follow your Maker are welcome to go to the Chantry themselves, but that gives your people no right to kidnap our children!"
"Kidnap? The chantry is not kidnapping them, merely-"
"Taking the da'len from their families against their will." Lichae stood his ground. "If it were us, taking your magic-blessed children, you would be up in arms about us 'barbarians' kidnapping your children." He frowned. "Even if that would be a blessing on them. Our people live far better lives than yours in the Circle."
There was a silence as Queen and Warden stared each other down, and finally one gave in, though just barely, and just to keep the peace.
"I will...suggest that the Templars are beter used elsewhere," Anora said. "But they do not have to listen to me. The Chantry does not obey the crown, only the Maker."
"And the children?"
Anora thinned her lips a moment. "...I will request they be returned. To preserve your...culture. But again, they do not have to listen to me."
"Thank you." Lichae straighted, setting the arrow on her desk. "This will remind you...If they are not removed, I will remove them myself. Not as a Warden, but as a Dalish, and my people will do the same. You may add that to your suggestion."
That was how he left, turning on his heel and whistling for his Mabari as he passed the doorframe.
Anora waited until he was gone to write the letters. She had watched the elf kill her father, and had little doubt he would to the same to the Templars in the name of his people. The last thing Ferelden needed now was the death of a bunch of Templar at pagan elf hands.
Business kept Lichae in Denerim for several weeks before the news reached him that the Templar number around the Dalish settlements had been lessened greatly. The news was delivered by a Dalish runner riding, surprisingly, a Hallaa.
"Ghilan'nain be blessed," Lichae had said, as soon as he'd spotted the hallaa. "Aneth Ara, brother."
The Dalish nodded. "Ma Serannas Hahren."
"Hahren?" Lichae stared at the Dalish, seeming confused. "I am no elder, I have done nothing to deserve such respect."
"Abelas," the Dalish said. "But you are incorrect. You have done much for our people, and for the people of Ferelden. You are truly blessed by the gods, you deserve respect."
"..Still, Please, we are brothers face to face. How is the situation in the south?"
"As you wish." The Dalish bowed his head, respectfully. "The new home is peaceful, brother. The Elders sent me to thank you for your work. Our da'len were returned, no worse for the wear, though their clothing was strange and they were scared. Many celebrations were had."
"I am glad to hear it!" Lichae smiled as the Hallaa nuzzled his hand. "We are riding the Hallaa?"
"It was faster than walking, and since they are no longer needed to pull the aravels..." The Dalish shrugged. "A few that were heavy with calf have already dropped, and the babies are adjusting well. We have received lots of lands for them to graze, though I think some are restless." The Dalish smiled. "Perhaps they need the exercise."
"Then let us hope that riding them will help! It will be as the old days." The two Dalish laughed. "And the Keepers? How do they get along?"
"As well as you can expect."
"Trouble, then?"
"The clans keep to their own settlements, for the most part." The Dalish shrugged. "A few have banded together to form larger groups, but-"
"But the keepers still argue like da'len?" Lichae smiled, then ran a hand through his hair. "My clan, Sabrae, have they-"
"We have heard no word from them. They are beyond Ferelden. Though a few clans have kept to wandering, and they carry the news of a homeland for us. A few clans from beyond Ferelden have sent runners ahead, announcing their intention to settle." The Dalish looked nervous. "But, speaking of then clans...Will you be joining another clan? Your blood line, your father and mother both, is mighty. Any of the clans would be welcome to having you join them, and your mother's clan has asked about you. That started other clans claiming that they did not own you, and...several arguments."
Lichae stared at the other Dalish. "...I am just a hunter. I don't have the gift. I-"
"You are the hero of these humans," the Dalish said. "You word carries weight. And still, any children you have may have the gift. Any of the clans would embrace you as a brother with open arms."
"I...do not know. I'm not sure that's my place." Lichae looked down, then blinked as the Halaa nuzzled his cheek.
"The Halaa favor you," the Dalish said, quietly.
"As I have heard." Lichae smiled, despite himself, and stroked the soft nose of the deer. "And I am fond of them. Will you tell the clans I hope to visit soon? I have business here, unfortunately."
"I will tell them." The Dalish bowed, and Lichae bowed his head.
It was heart wrenching to watch the Dalish ride off on the Halaa. When he'd watched his people leave Denerim before, after the Archdemon had been defeated and Anora had given them lands as her first act as regent, it had hurt, but he'd had Zevran at least, and he was able to focus on helping to rebuild the city and the Warden order. This time it was far harder to keep his mind off his clans.
Still, he had no choice.