Can't Cheat Death

I spilled blood in the water, then let the storm roll in

Caden's hip was in agony and her nose dripped blood as she was dragged by two guards into the city of Denerim. She barely saw it as she was brought to the pillory outside the goal and deposited; leaning against the wood pole she felt chains clamp around her hands, leashing her to the stake. She was in too much pain to care, too exhausted to do anything else but lean against the stake and shut her eyes. She'd done it. Taken down the monster who haunted her friends' nights, killed the spectre. He couldn't hurt anyone again.

Caden heard mutters and calls and opened her eyes a slit to see humans gathering to look at the latest criminal to face the humiliation of the stocks. She caught sight of a pair of elves who exchanged words and hurried towards the Alienage. Her hip was crying out for aid; the guards had hastily stuck a bandage around her side, and another on the thigh of the same leg where an earlier fight had wounded her, but it had been a rushed job. All things considered she had gotten off rather lightly in terms of injuries. She almost smiled at that.

She was outside the walls of the Alienage. It struck her suddenly as a remarkable thought. She rarely ventured outside those walls, being still considered a child, and so unable to seek employment in the city. Caden's ventures beyond the walls were restricted to being kidnapped and then remaining outside as a criminal. What an illustrious career she was having as an adult. She glanced down at the gold band gleaming on her ring finger. They weren't married and they never would be now, but Caden knew she was an adult. After what she'd been through in a few hours, she'd been catapulted into that milestone. She had just taken a different path than had been expected.

Time moved strangely for her on the stocks. It was still daylight, probably afternoon. The sun was bright as would befit the weather for Summerday and it shone down upon her in her blood-soaked gown. She probably looked a dreadful fright and indeed some mothers dragged their curious children past her with lightning speed. Caden just stood and rested as her skin burned and she waited. At least her state of dress probably helped keep the shems away; none of them were quite brave enough to approach her or throw anything and she was glad for that. Small mercies.

It wasn't until the first glimmers of dusk started to cross the sky that she heard footsteps approaching her. Caden opened her eyes from a semi doze and blearily looked up as the captain of the guard walked up to her. As he drew closer, she realised that hahren Valendrian was with him. And behind him was the Grey Warden. She didn't have the wherewithal to ask any questions, and besides there was dried blood all over her mouth and jaw and she wasn't ready to face that taste when she started speaking. The smell was bad enough, the coppery tang camped out in her nose as it was.

She realised they were speaking amongst each other and she strained to focus on their words.

"…killed the Arls only son and heir. That's murder and bad enough, but the Arl will not be happy when he returns from Ostagar." The captain was saying.

"The girl was only defending herself," Valendrian replied in a measured voice. "I do not wish to speak ill of the dead, but…"

"Yes, we all know what he was like," the captain agreed in a low tone. Then he sighed. "I'd grant you that defence for his death, but there were five other guards dead in the estate, plus the cook was assaulted. Those can't be chalked up to self-defence, not if she tracked through the estate to find him." The captain caught Caden's eye and shook his head sorrowfully. "I don't see how she can avoid the executioner's axe."

Caden dropped her gaze to the ground. That was that, as clear as day. She had signed her own death warrant.

Then a new voice spoke up.

"There is one other option." Caden peered up at the Grey Warden who was speaking now. "I could conscript her into the Grey Wardens. That is what I came here to do, to see if we could find any notable candidates."

"You want this scrawny elf for your Wardens?" the captain asked jerking his thumb at the slumped form of Caden. She wanted to feel insulted, but she couldn't argue with his assessment.

"Moral implications aside, she held her own against men twice her size and did not fall." Duncan assessed. "I don't condone murder, naturally, but you can't deny her abilities."

"You would take her?" Valendrian asked, not sounding at all surprised. It struck Caden then that this might have been a staged idea before they had approached the captain. "Save her from herself and put her to work for the good of the nation?" Oh yeah, that sounded planned for sure. Caden couldn't form her features into anything mirthful, but she locked this conversation away for later.

"I would." Duncan said. "I have the paperwork right here, if you would just sign your copy…"

The guard captain was no fool and he let out a sharp bark of laughter as he bent and signed his name on both forms, shaking his head in defeat. Then Duncan scrolled both sheets of parchment up and handed one to the captain, tucking the other into a scroll case at his belt. He gestured to the captain, who shook his head again and fished for the right keys to unlock Caden's manacles. A click, and they fell away.

Just like that she was free.

Except not quite free, Caden thought standing on shaky feet and looking to the Warden and her hahren. She was leaving one cage for another; she didn't know much about the Grey Wardens, but conscription felt very final. They'd signed her over to this man, how was this any different to what Vaughan had proposed to her as an alternative to death? Presumably her virtue could remain intact, but other than that…

Caden opened her mouth, eyes struggling to focus now that she was fully upright on her own two, tired feet. "I need to see my father."

"Sorry," the captain said brusquely. "I can't have that. If you're taking her, you're doing it now."

"But—" Caden started, as Valendrian coaxed: "Let the girl say her goodbyes first."

But the captain was firm. "I can't. You've got to take her out of Denerim right away. Once word gets out that the Arls son was murdered by an elf, do you really think she'll be safe? There'll be a lynch mob assembled within moments and I need to keep the peace here. I can't have her trotting all over the city while she gets herself ready. It's too risky and, worst case scenario: your Alienage could be purged."

A shiver ran down her back. Purged? Had she really brought her home that close to being decimated?

"But—" Caden tried again, speaking through her fears, her eyes imploring Valendrian to fight for her. He looked back at her and she could see he agreed.

"I will tell your father what has happened." He said kindly. "Maker be with you, child."

"My things." Caden said abruptly. "They're at my house, can't I just—"

"Come, young one." Duncan said. "We must be off lest you draw a crowd."

Caden turned mournful eyes on him. She wanted to fight. Wanted to storm off to the Alienage, outrun these men and grab her things, say her farewells. She hadn't eaten for so long, had worn herself out on adrenaline and bloodlust and so with one step she crumpled, caught by the man who now held papers of what felt very much like ownership. Caden let out a pathetic cry of frustration before the exhaustion finally beat her into sleep.

When she woke up, she was being gently rocked, her back pressed against a warm body. It startled her awake; she gave a shriek and almost slipped off what she now realised was a horse. Large arms encircled her holding the reins and did not let her fall. "What…?"

"Awake I see." She felt the rumble in his throat and chest as he spoke in that deep, soothing voice. Caden twisted and looked up into the bearded face of Duncan, his features shadowed in the gloom. She could smell the sweat on his chest where she had been resting against him.

"Put me down!" She said, at once. This felt uncomfortably close to being held down by Vaughan, the same sense of being too small, too weak to do anything about it. "Please," She hated the whine that crept into her tone.

To her surprise Duncan leaned back slightly, easing his mount to a halt and let Caden slip from the horses back. Her legs gave way as soon as she landed—it was higher than she'd expected—and she crashed backwards onto her hip, which protested angrily at the sudden pressure. She bit back most of the shout, but she hissed through her teeth at the pain. Duncan dismounted gracefully and patted his horse on the neck. "We need to make camp at any rate. I rode us further into the night than I had intended, but I thought it might be a shock if you woke in a stranger's tent."

Caden looked up at him, the moon bathing his face in a silvery glow. "Yeah, probably." She retorted, in too much pain to drum up much sarcasm. Duncan nodded affably. That irritated her, and Caden rolled onto her knees slowly, feeling her wound ache with every motion.

Duncan turned back to the beast and started unbuckling the straps to loosen the tent and blankets. "For tonight I will erect the tent and begin the fire. But tomorrow I expect you to do this yourself, so pay attention."

Caden felt around for a pithy response, but her hip was making it hard to think so she pulled herself into a somewhat comfortable sitting position and watched as Duncan first constructed a small fire by digging a shallow bowl in the dirt, lining the rim with stones and finally building the small pyramid with kindling underneath and wood on top. Within a short while the fire was crackling away, shedding better light on the ground where Duncan was putting together a relatively small canvas dwelling. Caden tried to pay attention completely, but he moved so fast and the light wasn't that great, so it was hard to follow and she found herself becoming distracted. Her hip was still twinging and when she looked down, she realised she was still wearing her wedding dress, albeit underneath a travelling cloak. The sight of the dark, dried blood in the firelight was nauseating, but her stomach was too empty to protest anything more than a few dry heaves. She desperately needed a distraction, but Duncan had finished assembling the tent and had come to sit by the fire, rootling through his pack for rations. He laid out bread, some soft cheese wrapped in leaves and an apple each.

"Hardly fine dining, but it will do." He said. Duncan looked up at Caden, who was turning the stiff fabric over in her hands. "I have some spare clothes if you would rather change. Nothing fancy, just a tunic and breeches."

Caden threw him a sceptical look. "I don't think your stuff would fit me."

Duncan chuckled, spreading the cheese onto his slice of bread. "You are probably right, but these were collected from your home before I came to find you at the pillory."

Caden's eyes widened in shock. "That hardly makes them spare, then. If they are my clothes." She crossly got to her feet. "Where?"

Duncan gestured to the saddle he had removed from the horse, who was grazing nearby. Caden eyed the beast warily. It was big and looked heavy, and those hooves could probably deliver a painful kick. But the saddle looked far enough away that Caden felt she could safely approach it. She went to it and crouched by the bags, fishing through a sack he had not yet opened to find not only her clothes, but also a stack of letters, tied with ribbon and her three small books. Looking at the letters gave her a strange swooping feeling in her belly. Guilt sat heavily inside her when she thought of Nelaros, how he came to her Alienage and died within the day, slain by shems when he had tried to save her. The books at least were comforting and she cradled them to her, breathing in the scent of leather. Then another thought struck her and she stood and whirled around, startling the horse and causing her hip wound to flare up again. "Where is my knife?"

Duncan looked at her for a long while. "I presume you mean the tool with which you killed Vaughan Kendells?"

"He stabbed me with it," she countered, ignoring his description. "Right here, right before he died. Where is it?"

"What do you remember?"

Caden placed her palm over the throbbing ache on her hip. "He stabbed me. I screamed. The guards came and took it out, and bandaged me and I fought them and one of them threw a punch." Her hand crept up to her nose. "Then I was tied up and you came. Where is my knife?" The urgency had left her voice leaving only a desperate sadness behind. "I need it."

Duncan took another bite of his meal and chewed it, watching her. Caden stood, clothes in one hand, books and letters in the other. When Duncan finally swallowed, he said: "I suspect they took it out and tossed it aside. Chances are it's still lying in Vaughans bedchambers. Alternatively, a guard pocketed it." He looked to the fire and popped the last morsel of bread and cheese in his mouth. "Either way, it's gone."

Caden stared across the firelight to him. Gone? Her knife—her mother's knife—lost in the estate of her abductor. It seemed like cruel punchline to a joke that she was the butt of. She clenched her fists around her things, holding back an scream of rage she could feel building in her throat. It wasn't fair. None of it was fair, not being dragged from her wedding at the whims of a shem, not having to turn to killing to make her friends lives safe, not being condemned to death nor being torn away from everything she'd known to join an order she barely understood, with no agreement from her. And not knowing where her knife was, that was the kicker. She turned and went inside the tent, where she couldn't stand up so had to shimmy out of the ruined dress and contort herself into her clothes. Neither her hip nor her thigh were happy about being twisted into her breeches, but she pushed through the sharp pains and got herself dressed, balling up the dress—her mother's dress, oh, Andraste, she was ruining every tangible memory she had of her mother—and sat for a moment. After drawing several long breaths, she decided she was too mad to calm down. Spoiling for a fight, she shoved back out of the tent.

"You can keep that bag," Duncan said when she re-emerged. The wind knocked out of her sails, she frowned. "That one, where your things were being kept. You can have that bag."

"I… alright." Caden said, deliberately not saying thank you. She went to it and shoved her dress down into the bag and then piled the books and letters on top. At least her mothers' boots were still fine, even while missing the knife for the hidden sheath. She could still feel anger coursing through her, even if Duncan had made some kind strides with her. He had brought her clothes and books and food, but he only had to do that because he'd stolen her. Cadens eyes narrowed and she turned, not leaving her pack. "You know this is akin to kidnap?" She glanced up, ensuring that he had heard her. He just watched her over the crackling logs. "That Right of Conscription thing? I take it you have to use it often?"

Duncan just watched her. It was infuriating. No-one was that placid. "Does it make you feel powerful to swoop in and force people to join your army?" She wished she was bigger, that her voice could carry further. She wished she could stand up and tower over him. Maybe he'd take her aggression more seriously then.

Finally, Duncan shifted in his seat and calmly responded: "Actually we find many people who wish to join up, but due to extenuating circumstances we are forced to use the Right in order to convince others to let them leave."

Caden felt her interest piqued. She moved closer to the fire, sitting down on the ground so that she could better see and hear the Warden.

"Like what?" she asked in spite of herself.

"If we conscript a mage, usually." Duncan explained, taking a sip from his water skin. "Often the Templars do not wish to release them into someone else's responsibility. I have also had to use it in Orzammar should a casteless dwarf be in the employ of one unwilling to part with them." He gave her a sideways glance. "The last Warden I conscripted was training to be a Templar. I almost had to use the Right, but the Revered Mother acquiesced eventually, allowing me to take him."

"Oh." Caden said quietly. She had never heard of Orzammer and she knew that mages existed, but she didn't recognise the word Templars. Despite her assertion that she was a fully-fledged adult in the big wide world now, she began to think she was more like a baby adult. With a lot more to learn.

"Eat something." Duncan said, nodding to her untouched rations. "You'll feel better."

Caden did as instructed as her belly was starting to growl. She couldn't work out this strange human. He seemed utterly impassive and hard to read, but then she had previously only known humans who were very much open about their wants and desires. Either Chantry sisters who preached the stories of the Maker and Andraste, or men who wanted one specific thing. She found herself wanting to continue this conversation as she ate. "Do you often find recruits at Alienages?" she asked after a moment.

"Not often, I have to say." Duncan said regretfully. "Those we recruit need to already be trained in fighting, in discipline. They need to be strong and clever and we only take the best. Sadly, as you know elves are not often trained in the art of fighting and they tend to be malnourished and weak. Of course, there are always exceptions to be made." He added with a pointed look at Caden. "We sometimes find the Dalish to be more what we seek, yet on the whole they tend to be reluctant to leave their clans."

"Wait, the Dalish really exist? You've met them?" Caden asked, momentarily forgetting her earlier question.

"Oh yes," Duncan said with a chuckle. "There are more camps than you might imagine, but they are a secretive people and difficult to track down."

Caden thought about this as she chewed her bread and cast her mind back to the days when she had first heard of the Dalish. She had been a small girl and overheard some of the elders talking about a group of boys who had left to find the Dalish. She had asked her mother about them and been regaled with stories of tribes of elves who lived free from humans and whom the humans feared, instead of the other way around. It was around that time that Adaia had begun to teach Caden the art of fighting.

Caden sighed at this memory. If Duncan heard her, he declined to push for an explanation.

"Now then," he said instead. "I'll take the first watch so you can get some sleep."

"But I slept on the horse." Caden protested. "I'm not tired, so I'll stay up." She shrugged. "Honestly, you go ahead."

Duncan nodded. "Very well. I will get some shut eye." He gestured to the moon and then moved his pointed finger to a new spot. "When the moon reaches that part of the sky, wake me and we'll swap."

Caden nodded. She watched him disappear into the tent and then she was alone with the horse. Her mind wandered to the notion of fleeing, but she quickly shut it down. She couldn't ride, she couldn't even saddle or climb aboard the damn beast and even then, where would she go? She was in entirely unfamiliar territory and they weren't even on a road that she could follow. Instead Caden concentrated on the fire, making sure it didn't die down as the chill picked up. She wrapped a cloak around herself and watched the heavens. There were so many stars scattered above her. Caden felt very small and lost beneath the tapestry of night sky.

The next morning after Caden had been roused at dawn by Duncan and helped pack up the camp, she was dismayed to realise she would have to travel on the horse again with Duncan. There was no way around it, she knew, but she couldn't help but argue against the close quarters of their ride. Eventually Duncan told her plainly that even cutting through the land as they were it would take at least five days to reach Ostagar and so any arguments delaying their return would mean more riding together. Caden gritted her teeth and climbed up behind Duncan. As she clutched at his travelling clothes and the horse began to move, she asked: "What's at Ostagar?"