They were tired, confused, brokenhearted and hungry. Well, at least Alistair and her were… Morrigan just seemed hungry, and Nano, well, he was somewhat worried, Anais could feel it. Mabari were that intelligent.
They dragged themselves across the village of Lothering, talking the first words after a long journey in silence. Morrigan wasn't much of a talker, it seemed, though Anais was just starting to know her, and Alistair and herself had been drowning in their own silent grieving. Occasionally, she would wake up screaming. It was always the same, Morrigan said: It started with Father, then Howe, and then
"Oren! Oren!" When she asked who this Oren was, Anais just sighed and answered "a little boy" and the witch had been sensitive enough not to ask anything more.
So there they were, after threatening some bandits with Morrigan's frightful abilities, in the village of Lothering. "Pretty as a painting", as Alistair had said before the rather uncomfortable discussion about their options they just had. They had only spent a few days together, but it was clear that Morrigan and Alistair despised each other, they couldn't have made it more obvious, and it was driving Anais crazy. Of only there was someone else with them –other than the dog- to help her keep the peace… To be honest, the only thing she wanted in that moment was a drink.
Lothering looked not-so-pretty on a closer look. Full of refugees, mud and filth were even more present than usual, and desease, and injuries, and above else despair. Fear. Fear makes everything look ugly. Anais knew that much. But there was still a tavern. Oh thank the Maker. There were taverns everywhere in this world. Anais was sure that even the darkspawn would need a tavern or two if they took over Thedas.
-I say we get in. Have a drink, maybe hear the news. It could be useful to know… you know, for what those bandits said, I'm starting to think that it wouldn't be safe go around shouting "Grey Wardens recruiting here".
Morrigan rolled her eyes. -You don't say so.
Even Alistair cracked up a smile. - Probably not.
Anais opened the door, cheering up at the thought of some ale in the belly, and she was heading towards the bar tender when a group of well armed angry men stood in her way and accused her of being a Grey Warden. Accused. Spreading those lies about how the Grey Wardens had betrayed the king, and how there was nothing teryn Loghain could do about it. Accused her of treason. Anais slowly drew her hand towards the handle of her sword, and then a voice caught their attention.
-Gentlemen, surely there's no need for trouble.- The sister of the chantry called. She had a pretty voice, Cousland thought. Later on, Anais would regonize that she would've found herself listening to that voice even in the depths of the Black City.
It happened very fast. The teryn's men refusing to hear any explanation, the lay sister joining them in the fight. And oh how Anais cough every glimpse of fiery red hair with the corner of her eye. The men running away with a message for Loghain. And there she stood now, all dressed in white and gold, asking them if they were really grey wardens, beaming when they said yes.
She was, this Leliana, she was incredibly beautiful. There was time to appreciate those things, Anais told herself, and it is no sin. Death musn't rule over everything. She must be the most beautiful woman Anais had ever seen. Or maybe it was just her expression? The smile? The way she talked about how the… the Maker? Had told her to follow the Wardens? How she was almost glowing? The kindness of her eyes. Even Alistair and Morrigan's remarks about her sanity seemed unrelated to the subject. Why, by Andraste's holy knickers, do they chose this moment to agree about something?!
The answer to her question is clear for Anais. As if she'd just had a vision herself.
-Very well. We need all the help we can get.
They were tired and confused, brokenhearted and hungry, but it didn't bother Anais as much as it did before. Beauty could still be found in the world.
