"What tale do you wish to hear, da'len?" Merrill asked the group of children around her. The youngsters looked properly thoughtful, though eventually a wide-eyed boy spoke up shyly.
"Is it true, Keeper Merrill, that she was here? At Ven'Arlathan?" the little boy asked.
"Yes indeed, though it was known as 'Ostagar' then. " Merrill confirmed. The Keeper motioned to the ruins around them, and the children followed the motion, eyes wide in awe. "This fortress was ancient even in the days when our hero walked these grounds. In many ways, this is where her tale began. Shall I start there?" She chuckled at their eager nods, and opened up the thick book in her lap. "Very well. Our story begins many years ago…"
-~0~-
They were approaching the fortress, at long last. With the aid of the halla, they had made much better time than he had hoped. Time was of the essence, now.
The young woman behind him had fallen into restless sleep again. It was the clearest physical sign of the taint growing in her, the only one the proud warrior let slip. But he could feel it within her, echoing the taint in his own blood. Time was of the essence, indeed. She did not have much left.
Duncan shifted purposefully in the simple saddle, knowing the movement would wake his new recruit without injuring her pride and felt her straighten up slightly.
"We are approaching the fortress of Ostagar, finally. We should reach the army encampment shortly," he told her. He gestured to the few fallen pillars and crumbled walls that spotted the landscape. "These have been here for many ages, when it was the last line of defense against invading barbarians. Now it will serve as our battleground against the darkspawn horde." She would be looking around with interest now, Dalish to the core, he knew, always seeking any sign of their lost civilization.
He half-turned in the saddle, twisting around to look at her. "If we ride on, we will be there in an hour, perhaps two. But if you prefer, we can stop now and rest while we eat." As he expected, she shook her head.
"I'm fine. We don't need to stop," she said. Many of his recruits warmed to him as they travelled, but his newest protégée had grown increasingly quiet in the days since they had left her clan. She had begun the journey with many questions about the order she would join and the creatures she would fight, as curious for lore as any proper Dalish should be. After more than a week of journeying, however, she spoke no more than necessary. Conserving her strength, he thought, rather than any particular animosity towards him.
Joining the Grey Wardens would potentially save her life, but Duncan was under no illusion that young Karaleyna's departure from her clan had been anything but unwilling. Clan ties were all important to the wandering Dalish and it was rare for any of their number to abandon kin and kind – Dalish Wardens were almost unheard of. But when the Wardens were fortunate enough to entice one away, they always served with great distinction. He had similar hopes for his newest recruit. If she survived. The sooner they completed her Joining, the better. He nudged the halla to a faster pace.
-~0~-
She saw Tamlen before her. Tamlen. Clanmate, fellow hunter, best friend, who would do anything for her, who had done everything for her. But it couldn't be – Tamlen was gone, the Grey Warden had said. She had failed him. They had entered the caves together, searching for forgotten lore, and had found the mirror. That thrice-cursed mirror that Tamlen had touched. They had gone in together, but only she had survived. Was it the blessing or the curse of the Creators that she always survived while others were lost?
Kara stretched out a hand, as if by touching him she could bring him back when she awoke, for surely it was a dream. She knew it had to be. But if she could just reach him, she could amend for not searching hard enough, for not finding him and helping him, the way he had always been there for her. So close.
The Tamlen-who-could-not-be-Tamlen looked up at her, familiar light in blue eyes. He smiled at her, and she thought her heart might break from missing him, more than even the rest of the clan she had left behind. She whispered his name, hand outstretched still. That smile again, and he reached for her.
His skin turned grey and his eyes empty. Blond hair became thin and fingers like claws. The warm smile became wicked, and he lunged at her with a shriek.
-~0~-
Kara woke with a start. The dreams were becoming more frequent, more horrifying. Dreaming of the foul darkspawn creatures was bad enough. But Tamlen, becoming one of them? She wasn't sure her heart could endure that. She couldn't bear to think of it now, even knowing it had just been a dream. Tamlen was dead. There was no changing that.
How long had she drifted off this time? She remembered Duncan saying that their destination was but a short distance away. The ruins were more intact now than they had been, the walls and road in better repair. Perhaps soon…
"Ho there, Duncan!" She peered around the Warden to see the tall blond man approaching, wide smile on a mobile face. He was flanked by guards and wore golden armor - someone important then. The man had a bearing about him, an air of authority, like a Keeper who knew his word had weight. Duncan's next words confirmed her thoughts.
"King Cailan! I didn't expect a – "
"A royal welcome?" The man, Creators, the King himself! chuckled. "I was beginning to worry you'd miss all the fun!"
"Not if I could help it, your Majesty." The Warden's tone was serious, but she wondered that he would have such a familiar relationship with the King of Ferelden. Who was this man that she had travelled with these past days?
"Then I'll have the mighty Duncan at my side in battle after all. Glorious!" The King turned his attention to her then, curiosity evident in his gaze. "The other Wardens told me you'd found a promising recruit. I take it this is she?"
Duncan shifted in his seat, half-turned towards her. "Allow me to introduce you, your Majesty."
"No need to be so formal, Duncan," the King interrupted with a charming smile. "We'll be shedding blood together, after all. Ho there, friend! Might I know your name?"
Kara willed herself to be calm, to steady her voice. She was the representative of the Dalish, last of the Elvhenan, royalty among the People. She shifted her shoulders slightly, feeling the comforting weight of her blades at her back. There was no reason to fear the human king. "I am Karaleyna of the Mahariel clan of the Dalish elves, your Majesty." Right hand held as a fist to her heart, she bowed as best as she was able astride the halla, giving him the salute of her people.
The King's smile grew broader. "Pleased to meet you! The Grey Wardens are desperate to bolster their numbers, and I, for one, am glad to help. I imagine that you, especially, will be a welcome addition. I hear your people possess remarkable skill and honor."
"You know of the Dalish, King Cailan?" she asked. The man seemed pleasant enough, not as haughty or distant as she had might have imagined a human king to be, had she ever given thought to the matter.
"I wish I knew more, but your people aren't exactly fond of mine, with good reason." She was surprised by the sincerity she heard in the King's voice. "I tell you this though, you are very welcome here. The Grey Wardens will surely benefit from your presence."
Pattering footsteps behind the King signaled the approach of a human boy. King Cailan noted the boy's appearance with a sigh, then turned his gaze back to Duncan. "I must be off. It seems Teyrn Loghain wishes to bore me with further talk of strategy and tactics. Is there anything that you or your Wardens require?"
"No, your Majesty," Duncan replied. "We are well-supplied for the moment, but be assured I will inform you should the need arise. Although…" his voice trailed speculatively for a moment, as though a thought had suddenly occurred to him.
"Would your Majesty have a suggestion for housing for our fine companion here?" He patted the halla's neck, who gave a low call in reply. "I fear her like is not often seen in these parts and it is thanks to her efforts that we have arrived in such a timely manner."
"Indeed, I've never seen anything quite like it," the King mused.
"A halla, your Majesty," Kara supplied. "Her name is Maera, and she is a dear friend to my clan."
"It would hardly be fair recompense if an intrepid hunter decided she would be the perfect trophy for the king's dinner table, now wouldn't it?" King Cailan said thoughtfully. Kara's eyes widened in alarm. It had not occurred to her that her friend would be in potential danger here. Before she could protest, the King spoke again.
"The picket line would not be sufficiently secure…but if we were to house her with the mabari, I expect she would be safe enough. Given the order, they would guard your friend here, I think." He nodded decisively. "Yes. I'll send word to the kennels and have the masters there keep an eye out. There's always someone near the hounds. Never fear, young Warden," he said with a smile. "No harm shall come to your friend. Now I must be off before Loghain sends out a search party. Fare you well, Grey Wardens, we shall see each other again soon." With that, the king marched away, escort in tow.
Duncan set the halla in motion again, taking a different path through the fortress ruins than the human king. Kara listened as he detailed their current situation, the coming battles with the darkspawn, but as they approached the army encampment and the sounds of hundreds of hundreds of men drew closer, her attention drifted to the coming meeting. Humans, so many humans. She shivered slightly, hoping Duncan would not notice. Her clan had always stayed as far as possible from the haunts of humans, more insular even than most Dalish clans.
What would it be like, to be among so many humans? Humans who had murdered her parents, who had slain and tormented so many of the Elvhenan throughout the ages, not just her own clan. The same race that had enslaved her people, driven them out of their homeland to wander, robbed them of immortality, language, and lore. She wanted to hate them. But Ashalle's voice lingered in her head. "Not all humans are the same, da'len. Do not let the actions of some color your view of the rest." Her foster mother had always counseled forgiveness, temperance, an open mind. The clan, Ashalle had said, had decided together to not let sorrow and anger poison their daughter's heart. For her clan's sake, she would try not to hate them. And for the sake of her people, she would not fear them.
The sound of footsteps drew her attention outward again. She looked up and stiffened at the sight – an elven man approached them. A flat-eared servant – he had to be, dressed shabbily and bent in a submissive posture. Outrage and disdain warred briefly, but pity won out – this man had never known the freedom of the hunt, the wild call of the wind, the fierce rush of the river.
Sorrow swept away the pity as Kara realized that those things were likely forever lost to her as well. A wave of longing washed over her, making it difficult to breathe for a moment. Keeper Marethari had said it was her duty to join the Grey Wardens, but duty had never tasted so bitter.
"Kara?" The Grey Warden's voice startled her out of her thoughts. It was clear from the question in his tone that Duncan had been expecting an answer to some question she hadn't heard. He looked up at her from beside the halla – he must have slipped down at some point without her noticing. Where oh where were her vaunted hunting skills now?
"My apologies, Duncan. What were you saying?"
The concern in the Warden's eyes had not faded away. "There is Grey Warden business I must attend to. I hesitate to leave you, but this must be dealt with immediately. Will you be able to find the kennels on your own?"
Kara fought down the panic and the urge to beg him to stay. All these humans and flat ears, by herself? Dalish hunters were afraid of nothing, she reminded herself. She resolutely shoved the fear away and buried it inside, forcing into her voice confidence she did not feel. "Of course, Duncan." Small victory, that her voice did not shake.
Duncan studied her a moment longer before continuing. "Follow the sounds of the barking, it should lead you to the kennels easily enough. Should you get lost, ask one of the soldiers on duty. When you are finished, seek out a Grey Warden named Alistair. He will be your guide until we are ready to proceed with the Joining ritual." With that, Duncan turned and left her. Alone.
-~0~-
"Alistair? That was the name of the shem king, right, Keeper? The Grey Warden one?" asked one young voice eagerly.
"Yes, da'len," Merrill answered. The child beamed, until the aging Keeper scolded him. "Don't interrupt the story, Tenerin. There are many here who have not heard it before."
"Yes Keeper," Tenerin said quietly, chastised.
Merrill struggled to hide an indulgent smile and looking down to the tome in her lap returned to her tale.
-~0~-
Kara followed the sound of barking as Duncan had suggested, though after a while the smell alone could have guided her to what the king had referred to as "kennels". The Dalish had never had much use for dogs – one or two of the clans kept them, but overall they were rare. This though, this was insanity. Everything here was chaos. Humans and servile flat-ears running, shouting in their harsh tongue, and the dogs, more dogs than she had ever imagined, barking and barking. And smelling.
She led the halla on foot now, hands wrapped tightly in reins to keep herself from bolting as much as her four-footed companion. "So much noise…" she whispered to Maera as she pressed close to her friend's side. She missed the quiet of the forest, the wind over the plains, the song of the brook. She missed the music of the Dalish language.
She approached the kennels with some trepidation, even more so when a man stepped forward and made his way towards her. These humans were allies of the Wardens, she reminded herself. They were not going to suddenly turn and assault her. And even if they did, she was not some helpless child. Dalish hunters fear nothing, she repeated to herself. They were Tamlen's words. How she wished he was here, but his words would have to do. She chanted them in her head, a mantra against the urge to flee.
The dark-haired man drew nearer. "Are you the new Warden?" At her cautious nod, the man continued. "I got a message from the king's man to get a spot ready. The kennels are full, but I've an idea. I'll need a favor from you first, though." Her eyes narrowed in suspicion as he led her closer to the kennels themselves, and one hand loosened from the halla's reins, ready to reach for the hunting knife at her back. She knew what human men often desired of elven women.
The man continued on blithely, unaware of the imminent danger he was in. "This is a mabari, smart breed, and strong." He gestured to an immense hound lying in one of the pens. "His owner died in the last battle, and the poor hound swallowed darkspawn blood. I have medicine that might help, but I need him muzzled first. I was wondering if you might help me with that."
Kara frowned. "I don't know anything about dogs. Why do you need my help?"
"It's not what you know so much as what you are, really. Even sick like he is, he's got a mean bite. But you're a Grey Warden, or soon will be. All Wardens are immune to the darkspawn taint. The most you have to worry about are a few tooth marks. Will you try? If you help him, I bet he'd be willing to share some space with the four-foot there. "
She agreed to at least try and dubiously entered the pen. She extended a hand to the hound as she would to a halla. The dog sniffed it then offered a tentative, weak lick. Kara could see the intelligence in his eyes – not so different than the halla, smart as any elf she'd ever met though they resided in an animal form. The kennel master handed her the muzzle, and she slipped it over the hound's head, fumbling with the buckles for a bit until she figured out how they attached.
"This is for the best, my friend, though I know it is not pleasant," she told the mabari as he whimpered pathetically. "I know, I feel it too. Like burning fire in your blood, as if something dark is clawing its way out. This man says that he has medicine that will cure you. You'd like that, wouldn't you?" The hound's tail wagged, which she took as a good sign.
"Will you let my halla friend stay with you? You can watch over one another, keep each other company." The tail thumped again. "Ma serranas then – thank you, in the language of my people."
She straightened and slipped out of the pen. The kennel master looked at her with astonishment. "Most people don't speak to the mabari like they understand. They treat them like ordinary dogs."
She shrugged as she gathered up Maera's reins. "He is not unlike the halla – they are comrades and allies to the Dalish, not servants like your horses." She led the halla into the pen. "This is Maera, and she is a dear friend. Maera, this is…" The elf looked over to the kennel master. "Does he have a name?"
"I'm sure he does, but I never heard his master use it. He seems to have taken a liking to you though, maybe even imprinted you. Why don't you give him one?"
She thought for a moment. "Anari. It means 'little brother' in my tongue. Do you like it? I've always wanted a little brother." The hound barked as best he could with the muzzle and wagged his tail even harder. "Then Maera, this is Anari. Anari, Maera. Will you two look out for each other for me?" A bleating call and a half-bark settled the matter, and Kara moved to divest the halla of her equipment, laying them in the corner of the pen.
Slipping out of the pen again, she turned to the kennel master. "I need to find a Grey Warden by the name of Alistair. Do you know him?"
"I think I saw him head north just a short while ago," the kennel master replied after thinking a moment. "Tall blondish fellow. Head up that way and you should find him." The man pointed up a ramp leading to a more enclosed area of the fortress ruins. "Thanks again for helping the mabari, I can treat him properly now." Kara nodded to the man, and headed up the ramp.
The sounds of voices drew her attention to the right. As she drew closer, the words became more distinct – an argument of sorts, it seemed. Rather than approach, she remained in the shadows. In order to examine her would-be-companion, she told herself. It was almost believable.
Both speakers were male, human, one bald and dressed in what strangely appeared to be a skirt. The second was tall, well-built and armored, hair red gold in the sunlight. This must be the Grey Warden Alistair she had been told to find. He carried the sword and shield at his back with the ease of a man accustomed to their use, and though he appeared displeased with the man before him, there was no open hostility about him. The bald, skirted man stalked away in irritation, removing all excuses she might have for not approaching. No more stalling then.
The Grey Warden caught sight of her as she drew near. "You know, one good thing about the Blight is how it brings people together," he said dryly.
Kara stopped, perplexed. "You are a very strange human…" she blurted, surprise stealing her tongue before she could consider the words. She regretted them as soon as they left her mouth – calling someone strange within moments of meeting them was hardly the way to make a good first impression.
To her relief, the Warden only chuckled and smiled. "You're not the first to tell me that." He squinted, trying to see her in the residual shadows where she stood and frowned. "We haven't met, have we? I don't suppose you happen to be another mage?" As she wasn't entirely sure what a mage was, she shook her head. "Less being yelled at for me, then, though the day is still young," he said with a shrug, walking in her direction.
As the man drew near, he studied her for a moment and frowned again. Kara wondered what he saw – one of the wild Dalish, traditional braids in her dark auburn hair and the marks of the Creators, the vallaslin, tattooed across her face. In Dalish leathers, so unlike any of the clothing she had seen in the army encampment, there was no mistaking her for anything but foreign.
"Wait…I do know who you are. You're Duncan's new recruit, the Dalish. I should have recognized you right away. I apologize," he said, extending a hand. "I'm Alistair. As the junior member of the order, I'll be accompanying you when you prepare for the Joining."
She took his hand cautiously. A "handshake", Duncan had called it. The customs of humans were so strange, so foreign. "Karaleyna, of the Mahariel clan of the Dalish." Formerly of the clan, she thought with a sudden pang. Clanless, now. Homeless, without an identity. She forced herself to keep talking, to not dwell upon the emptiness, or the growing taint that tried to fill the gaping holes. "It is good to meet you, Alistair. Duncan spoke of you."
"Nothing bad, I hope," Alistair said with a smile, and gestured for them to keep moving. He looked at her, a thoughtful expression upon his face. "You know…it just occurred to me that there have never been many women in the Grey Wardens. I wonder why that is?"
Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. Perhaps offending the man was not what she should have been worried about. "You want more women in the Wardens, do you?" She fought against the desire to hiss the words, to give him the benefit of the doubt, that perhaps he was truly just curious.
"Would that be so terrible? Not that I'm some sort of drooling lecher or something…stop looking at me like that!" He squirmed a little bit uncomfortably and she made an effort to stop glaring. He sounded innocent enough. A part of her wanted to be able to trust him. No, a part of her [i]needed[/i] to trust him, to find in the Grey Wardens something of the clan she no longer had. But so many instincts insisted that humans were dangerous, unreliable. It was all so complicated now, so many conflicting emotions and needs.
Something of her thoughts must have been visible in her face – Alistair's look softened into something like sympathy. "Come on," he said. "I'll show you around the camp, and then we'll see if Duncan is ready to start yet." He gestured towards the camp, and together, they set off, back into the swarming sea of chaos in the camp.
