{{Chapter One}}
"Poison? Really Zev?" I heard my mother's disapproving words and focused on the sound to help pull me from the murk of unconsciousness that surrounded me.
"At least her stomach was empty of food. That is good, no?" I stared up at the blonde man and felt my lips twist into a wry grin. I liked my family's friend, Zevran. He was an elf like my father which meant he aged differently so did not show it like his human counterparts. It was easy to forget he was so much older than me because of it and I tended to get along well with him because he did seem more my age than he really was.
"What kind of poison was that?" I let them help me into a sitting position as I asked and noticed I was still in the parlor, but resting on one of the long couches. Of our little battle, there was no indication or evidence, so one could almost think they imagined it. I rubbed my sore thigh and grimaced - no imagining that. I had to work on my speed!
"The kind that knocks you out cold so that your Uncle can grope you while you are down, kitten." The assassin's tone was full of mischief and any other person would have had an angry mother to deal with for it, but mine was used to Zevran's jokes after all of the years they'd been friends. He was mostly friends with my father, but he and my mother got along pretty well these days. Perhaps age had mellowed her. Perhaps Zevran was tamer now. I didn't care – he was fun to be around and I didn't mind his crassness.
"Here, Cecilia," Mother handed me a cup of what I assumed was tea. "Drink it all to counteract any lingering effects." I caught the nasty glare she cast upon the elven rogue but I said nothing, just sipped as ordered. It was quite bitter, but I drank it all knowing that whatever Zevran said could possibly have either a double meaning or double effect. It wasn't that I didn't trust him, but I didn't trust him. You couldn't or shouldn't trust an assassin – it just wasn't wise.
"So, uncle Zev, how did I do?" I handed mother the empty teacup and turned my focus on the elven male.
"Not bad, kitten." He held up his left hand and ticked off a finger for each statement. "You were fast. You were graceful. You were alert. And lastly, you lived." He switched over to his other hand. "However, you were too slow. You did not learn to anticipate me enough to matter. You did not use all weapons handy." He pointed to the kettle that had been nearby. I knew my mother would have not been happy had I used it. I could only imagine the mess it would have made! "And lastly, you were too slow."
"You said that already!" I pouted, crossing my arms as I did.
"It was worth mentioning again." He grinned and I watched the odd pattern on the side of his face twist and contort slightly. It was a little mesmerizing.
"So much for my little girl becoming a lady." Mother covered her eyes with an arm using such a dramatic voice that it was difficult not to giggle at her.
"At least she is no wild woman, running around singing tales of danger while facing so many wicked things with odds against her." Zev laughed at my mother's expression, knowing full well what he was implying about her. I know my mother would have said more but, fortunately for me, we were interrupted.
"And here is lunch." The door shoved open and the King of Ferelden himself walked into the parlor carrying a loaded tray full of smoked meats and cheeses. Some of the cheese stacks looked as if they'd been pilfered through and I had an idea who the culprit had been. King Alistair was an odd man, but just like Zevran, he was a family friend and he treated us all like his own extended family.
"Hello Alistair." Zevran greeted the man warmly and I knew most would never have the gall to so flippantly call him by his name instead of 'King Alistair' or 'your majesty' or some other similar honorific. But if he had, the King would have simply waved it off and demanded he call him 'Alistair' instead.
"Zev!" The leader of Ferelden cheerfully spoke as he set the tray down and snagged another slice of cheese. He nibbled as he asked, "When did you … get in? Staying… long?" He lifted a leg and slid down onto one of the smaller couches with the cheese still in hand. Honestly, you would never have known he was the king of the entire land of Ferelden by the way he acted around his friends.
"Just arrived this morning," The elf joined his human pal on the couch, slapping his arm as he did. "And no, my friend, I cannot stay for long. The Crows would not know how to survive without me, you know this." Zevran ran an association of fighters called the Crows, based in his homeland of Antiva. At one time they were deadly assassins, but under Zev's leadership, they now did protection work exclusively. "I come with important information for you: something that had passed through Orlais that we might be interested in intercepting…" I sat up straighter, my slightly pointed ears twitched as I listened closer.
"Should we convene into the war room then?" The King glanced my way, his brows knitted in concern. I knew he held trust in all of us, but also tried to shelter me as much as possible from the politics and dangers of the land. It frustrated me since I was practically an adult now, but I understood their desire to keep me from dealing with the worry.
"No need." Zevran waved the suggestion off and leaned back, taking a plate of food as my mother gave it to him. "My thanks, Leliana mi darling." After he took a bite, the assassin continued. "An important package was being sent to Amaranthine, or so the rumor goes. It should be arriving in a few days and someone should be there to intercept it. It will be a very easy mission, but you should send someone you trust." His beige eyes cut to mine.
"What is it?" The king also looked my way and I began to grow uncomfortable. Why were they looking at me? If they mean to send me on some silly pick-up mission, then … wait, that would get me away from the palace! At the thought I was suddenly interested in what they would say.
"I know not for certain, my friend, but it is supposed to be important – very, very important. Rumor has it that it is a weapon, but I do not know." Zevran's accented voice was thick as he spoke. I wondered what he was thinking and then I wondered what was in the box - something deadly to King Alistair? I cringed at the thought of him dying. He was the last of King Maric's bloodline and I knew from what my mother had told me that he had not wanted to rule. Yet, he had been a merciful and just king. The people loved him and I personally thought he was great at being king. I just wish he had found a wife so that he could die without the stress I saw him experience day by day from not having an heir. I pitied the man. He was a Gray Warden and every day that passed drew him closer to the short lifespan all Gray Wardens faced. Ferelden would lose one of the greatest men of history when we lost King Alistair Theirin.
"So I don't suppose you would be the one to retrieve it then?" The king inquired of his Antivan friend.
"No, I cannot. I have a very important meeting I must attend to back in Antiva." Once more Zevran's eyes locked with mine and I bit my lip, knowing I was missing something, something only they seemed to know. It felt as if I were stumbling around in the dark of night without any torch or lantern to light my path. It was very frustrating!
"Then I would ask you to go, Cecilia." When the king said the words, I nodded, being eager to hear the details of my first solo quest. But my mother spoke out before anything further could be said.
"No. Absolutely not, Alistair." Mother crossed her arms and actually had the audacity to glare at the king.
"I would send you with her, Leliana, but I need you by my side." I caught the exchange of warmth between them and felt my heart sink to my toes. Was my mother having an affair with the king? I tried to banish the notion immediately. There was no way my mother would be unfaithful to my father. I knew their fire burned even with the great lengths of time my father spent away from home. "This is perfect timing in fact. I have a couple of others I would meet with our young redhead." King Alistair stood up and moved to the door, calling for a servant once he was there.
"Mother, what's happening?" If she were truly being unfaithful, I knew she wouldn't say, but I had to try. The not-knowing would eat me alive.
"The King is probably sending for your father now." She slid down to sit beside me as she spoke, pausing as if deliberating in what to tell me and how much to say, "I will be honest with you, there is a great and deadly army that has risen, Cecilia. It is marching on us from the west and already there are reports of the devastation it has caused. Not only is this danger coming to us, but it has already hit Orlais. And Antiva looks to be hit soon as well. This is not just a dire situation to us, but to the entire world. I'd prefer to keep you at my side so that I could protect you, but this trip to Amaranthine might be the safest way to do that."
"D-Darkspawn?" I gulped. Another blight? It had only been twenty-three years since the last one! I had been born five years after the leader of the horde of Darkspawn, the Archdemon, had been slain by my father. I wasn't sure how long the time went between blights, but if it were a blight, I would possibly get a chance to test my combat skills. I was not certain the thrill I felt at the prospect was excitement… or fear.
"No. Not Darkspawn." My mother shook her short, shaggy red mane and frowned as she spoke. "This is worse than Darkspawn. The people we have lost are those whom we now fight. They are mindless warriors and we have nothing in history to help us through this. I do not think even Gray Wardens can save us this time." Her tone was bleak and I shook my head at the thought of having mindless drones attacking. Without a conscious or will, they would slaughter everything in their path. But like Darkspawn, they could be killed. They could be stopped, or so my line of thinking went.
"Then I should stay and help." I lifted my chin, almost in defiance.
"No, my dear, you will not stay." Zevran leaned over the edge of the couch and interjected into our conversation. I had not even noticed his return. He was certainly stealthy! "I will go with you, half of the way. That will help ease minds and I can make certain you are safe at least that far." I had to admit to myself, having the Antivan elf along would make me feel a little less alone. He focused his attention on my mother. "Leliana, Alistair requests your presence in the war room. I came to escort you, which I do not mind as long as you do not mind me clinging to you so." He made a hand as if to grab my mother, but she swatted him away, rolling her eyes dramatically as she did.
"I feel much better having you go along with my daughter, Zevran." Her sarcasm was not lost on the assassin.
"Ah, yes," He winked at me as he helped my mother up from the couch. "I am certain you do."
"Go pack, sweet girl," Mother smiled at me, but I saw the fear behind her eyes as she spoke. "And I will see you off soon." Before she reached the door, she turned and added, "You'll be taking Kayla with you."
"Kayla? But- Aww, fine." I tried to not whine, but could not help it. I got along with the daughter of the king's advisor and chancellor, Teagan Guerrin, despite the fact she was a year younger than me. But she was a spoiled little girl if ever there was one. I could hear her whiny complaints in my mind already "I need a bath. It's too hot. I'm hungry. Are we near?" My feet drug as I went to my room to pack, the dread building up inside. Hopefully it would be a short journey to the city of the north.
One bright ray that lit my heart – I would be seeing father before he marched south to join the armies of the king.
We set out as soon as I had packed. No one wanted us to delay 'for our safety' but I had a hunch it was to keep us out of the way so we would not get underfoot. My mother was tearful in her goodbye to me, which made it difficult to go. After all, this was my first time to leave the palace without either parent at my side. My heart pounded in expectation and as I was helped onto the back of a small cart I reminded myself once more that I would not be alone.
"My poor little girl!" I heard Kayla's mother, Kaitlyn, wail loudly and I cringed, grateful my own mother wasn't like that. I tried not to feel too harshly toward Chancellor Teagan's daughter, since she was the product of her mother's coddling. I also tried to force myself into empathy for her mother since she had lost Kayla's twin sister at birthing. I would have expected my own mother to be like that since I was a rare birth. Most Gray Wardens like my father were unable to produce children due to the taint within them, so I knew I was lucky to be alive.
Kayla wordlessly climbed onto the cart and sat beside me, trying to not look at her parents as they stared sadly at their daughter. Then I noticed my own mother was wiping her eyes as she watched us begin the journey northward. Zevran was sitting at the front with the driver, an older man who had made the journey many, many times before this and was excellent in caring for the oxen that pulled the cart. I leaned back against the crate of supplies that would be our meal and provide us with gear to camp for the night and tried to force myself into a bravery I did not feel. I tried to see it as an adventure, but it was difficult, more so as the palace gates grew smaller and smaller in the distance as we made our way north.
We did not make it far before Kayla began to talk about her favorite subject: clothing and fashion. Her mother had taken her to Orlais a few weeks earlier and that was all she could talk about. Fancy clothing, hats of all shapes and sizes, masks of various designs -the way she spoke, it actually began to intrigue me. She was a vivid storyteller and I found myself listening raptly, suddenly appreciating the distraction.
A few hours though and I was ready for some peace and quiet. I was relieved when we stopped for a small break and listened intently to Zevran as he explained we would arrive in a day and a half, so we would have to camp overnight. So far it had been uneventful, but I was not sure if that was a positive thing or not.
"How come we can't stay in Denerim and help?" I asked the elvish assassin as we waited on Kayla to return from our makeshift latrine we had set up nearby. "How difficult could it be to fight mindless people?"
"Actually," He humored me by replying instead of brushing off my question, which I appreciated. "They are not completely mindless. They are like tranquil mages, being leashed by something deep within. The Circle mages who have gone into the Fade to seek them out have all ended up as if tranquil as well, so we have no choice but fight them out of the Fade. There is a force we have not discovered yet controlling them. We find that force and we have their release… or so the theory goes." His expression turned grave as he continued. "The main problem we face is once they touch you, you instantly become one of them. This controlling force can extend itself through each 'soldier's' touch. That means that if we cannot stop them before they reach us, we will become part of them."
"You mean… my mother and father, you … even the king could become mind-controlled minions? And obey to kill, without any way to fight it?" I felt my eyes grow wide and I swallowed hard. When Zevran nodded, I bit my lip in worry for my family. I felt badly for all of the men, women and children who were already under the control of whatever or whoever it was. The thought prompted my next question. "How do we find the controller?"
"That, my kitten, is a good question."
"What is a good question?" Kayla chose that moment to return. She looked at each of us, her own face mirroring the gravity of the situation.
"We were just discussing the enemy we face, princess." I tried not to smirk at the nickname Zevran had given Kayla. She didn't seem to mind it, which made it even more humorous to me. The elf patted the girl's hand and assured her, "You will not be faced with such so you need to not worry your pretty head." He helped us back onto the rear of the cart and went to sit with the driver as we were off once more.
After a few minutes of unusual silence from Kayla, I glanced over at her to see her smiling brightly.
"What?" I nudged her with an elbow, waiting for her response.
"He said I was pretty." At her silly swoon, I had to clamp down on a small welling of jealousy within me. I could not argue against the words: her long, straight auburn hair had just the right thickness to it compared to my messy curly mop; her face was flawless unlike my freckle-filled countenance. She was much prettier than I could ever aspire to be, but her selfishness and pride swallowed anything positive that went along with such an appearance. My mother had always told me that the beauty we held inside was much more important since the beauty on the outside would fade with time. I had a difficult time believing that though – my mother was still lovely even after all of the years had gone by.
"Zevran is a scoundrel - of course he would say such a thing. You know that." There was no reason for me to be so mean and petty, but the words just slipped out.
"I could bed him if I wanted to." She sniffed, holding her head up. "Unlike you. He would bed anyone but you."
"Bu-bed?" I snapped my head her direction so fast it actually pained me. "Kayla! You shouldn't say such things!" I hissed low in response. Her only react was to laugh.
"I do love to watch you blush, Cece!" Her lips twisted into a smirk as she cast a glance over her shoulder. I followed her gaze and felt my face heat up when I saw that Zevran was staring at us both with a bemused expression on his face. I wondered how good his hearing was.
Once he turned back around after giving us both a wink, I leaned in to Kayla to whisper, "I'm pure. I would never give myself to someone so… freely." I didn't want to insult Zevran. I was no prude, but it was by my own choice I had decided to give myself to someone at the right moment. I hadn't even experienced my first kiss yet. My parents had been a great example of how to find someone and fall head over heels in love and remain with them for a lifetime, despite the racial difference. I wanted that for myself. Someday.
"Oh Cece, you are simply no fun." She blew out her breath in a huff and rolled her eyes.
"Cecilia. My name is Cecilia."
"I wonder if we are near camp yet. I could use a good bath. And you definitely need one, Cece." She was being wicked as usual but I could stand up for myself easily enough.
"I am certain we will get there, when we are there." I rolled my own eyes at her. "Kay-Kay."
Mercifully it wasn't long after that when the sun's light began to fade and we set up camp near a small pond that offered fresh water. Zevran went to work setting up two tents for us: one for the males and one for the females. He then made a nice large fire and pulled out a few sets of fruit for us to share while he went to hunt for game. I felt a little nervous when he left, but the old driver was there to watch over us so that helped somewhat.
The Antivan returned shortly with a couple of pheasants slung over his shoulder. With a smirk on his handsome face, he plopped them in front of Kayla.
"Do us the honors, princess?"
She stared at the birds in confusion and then looked up sharply to Zevran. "What do I do with these?"
"Why, you pluck them, of course." He squatted beside her and yanked on a handful of the feathers to demonstrate. "And then you can dress them for me so I can put them on the spit. No?"
Naturally Kayla would have none of it and tossed them at him, charging off to her tent with a voice full of complaint.
Zevran and I began to work silently side by side on the fowl instead. I was glad I had been shown how to dress a bird and did so without any qualms or problems. The assassin smiled in appreciation when I handed him my own.
"Not so badly done, kitten." He removed a few extra things I had neglected as I made a mental note for the future. "I think you and I and our dear driver will enjoy some pheasant tonight, no?" We both grinned and then set about enjoying the fruit of our labor. The old driver had some interesting and entertaining tales of lore to tell us and I listened to his stories with rapt attention. It was a pleasant way to spend the evening until the night claimed us.
Of course sleep was rare for me thanks to my tent-mate. Kayla kicked me often during our time of sleeping on the pallet we shared. How she snored! And quite loudly! Also, she whined like a dog during deeper dreams. It was a very, very long night.
When dawn broke, I was ready to feed her to the forest and hope the trees would not spit her back in disgust.
With my luck, they probably would.
To be Continued