2. There Were Some Big Buildings
Luka woke up angry
He was not surprised by this, as he could hardly recall a time when anger did not run his life. He angry at the stupid humans for locking him up in the prison they called the Alienage, for murdering his mother, for raping and killing his beloved, and for all the other injustices they had imposed because he had the misfortune to be born with pointed ears.
This Gray Warden business was the last straw. If he was doomed to be surrounded by inept humans who thought themselves above the politics of the world so that they could concentrate on fighting these blasted darkspawn, he would make them notice. He would show his ears without fear to remind them that darkspawn were not the only horror of this world. He would make sure they saw him for who and what he was, and he would fight tooth and nail to shatter their assumptions about weak, submissive elves beholden to their human masters.
For all Luka knew, the darkspawn did not even exist. He had heard of them, but only as the antagonists in children's tales told by Valendrian. Luka respected the Alienage's elder deeply, but he had grown out of such stories. The idea that bloated monsters who poisoned your blood were roaming about underground seemed ridiculous. No one had seen a darkspawn for centuries, so why should anyone believe a blight was brewing just because one human said so?
Whether the stories of darkspawn were true or not mattered little to Luka anyway. Gray Wardens were exempt from regular law, able to go where they pleased and garner respect from the common folk. Luka understood he had been given a rare gift: not only did he still have his life after killing an Arl's son, he had more power than even most humans. He swore to himself, to Valendrian, to Shianni and his family, to spirits of those who had died, that he would use his newfound authority to change things. He would help the ones he loved, even if it meant telling the world things they did not want to hear, even if it meant alienating everyone else nearby.
So far, he had to admit, he was doing a damn good job at alienating himself.
Duncan had admittedly saved his life, but Luka did not trust him as far as he could throw him. The constant holier-than-thou attitude and calm facade—it had to be a facade; only a corpse was that dead inside—were clearly a farce to encourage Luka to let his guard down. Luka refused to do so. Duncan, at least, seemed to be perfectly comfortable with silence, so he never pressed matters.
The other Warden recruit, however, just could not shut her trap. When she was not chattering about something inane, she was humming and fussing with her hair. She seemed more preoccupied with braiding wildflowers into it than forming a coherent thought. Furthering that ridiculous image, she walked with a strange, trot-like gait as though she were physically resisting the temptation to skip to her destination.
The last couple days, he had had a few moments of doubt about her. Seeing her skillfully skin and gut the animals which she herself had caught had made him wonder if she had depths he had not noticed. Her stories about her family, especially that Gemma woman, had also provoked his curiosity. She herself was an idiot shem, but her family seemed somewhat palatable. Luka felt uncomfortable admitting that any shem could even be somewhat palatable, so he had mostly convinced himself that the annoying Warden was spinning sympathetic stories.
"—eat rotten goat cheese," the girl was babbling at Luka's side, "that'd even make a goat sick. Andraste's lumpy blubber, the incessant vomiting wasn't pretty, though." She had been incessantly vomiting chatter all morning and Luka had been barely listening the entire time. "It'd make a good weapon, that," the girl mused.
Luka rolled his eyes, since the image that suddenly popped into his head was rather amusing. "So, if we meet darkspawn or bandits on the road," he said without thinking, "you'll chuck rotten cheese at them?"
"I would if there were any goats around," the girl laughed. "As it is, I'll just hide behind Duncan. His noon shadow is bigger than I am."
The girl had a naturally infectious laugh, so Luka found himself holding back a small smile. He had found himself in this predicament a couple times these last few days, and he did not like it.
At the same time, though, Luka had to nod in agreement. "I wonder if that'd actually annoy him for once," he muttered.
The girl leaned towards him with a soft gasp. "You noticed too?" she whispered conspiratorially, glancing towards Duncan, who was walking significantly ahead of them. "I swear he's got no idea what emotion is."
"I don't trust that," Luka growled, feeling his gaze harden into a glare. The shem was suspicious, no matter how diplomatic and affable he seemed. He had done nothing to help Luka and the others aside from handing them some weapons that they could have gotten anywhere else. "He's hiding something," he said.
"Or maybe he's just all mature." The girl shrugged, yet she did not seem to be convincing herself. "But he's definitely not keen on giving straight answers."
"Still strange," Luka countered.
"He's not really making an effort to get to know us," the girl added. "You'd think he'd want to be all mentor-y to his new recruits, but he's practically ignoring us."
"Good riddance," Luka spat. His fellow Warden was enough of a nuisance without having to worry about some sage counselor trying to butter him up.
"Sure," the shem replied, "but it's still weird as shit."
Luka found himself unwillingly agreeing. He was building some sort of rapport with this girl, and he did not appreciate the fact that he was beginning to relax in her company.
Believe it or not, Luka was grateful for someone to talk to, anyone at all. He was unused to being outside of a crowded home or city, and the pure expanse of empty space around him was unnerving. The Warden was a massive pain and clingy and never shut up, but she was there, and she seemed harmless. She ran her mouth off and understood nothing of the rotten parts of the world, but she did not seem to disdain him. She never looked at his ears or mentioned his elven features or asked about anything that was specific to elves at all. She treated him like a person.
There was a stretch of silence, but it was not awkward, as both Luka and the shem beside him were lost in their thoughts.
"Maybe he's trying to lead by example," the girl suddenly piped up, drawing Luka out of his reverie. She smirked at him and nudged him a little with her elbow. Strangely, Luka did not feel the urge to stab her in the throat. "You could learn a thing or two, eh?"
Luka halted in his tracks, a hazy red fury beginning to bubble beneath his skin. The shem stopped as well and turned to look at him, her eyes wide and innocent. "I'm angry for a reason," Luka snarled, his entire person engulfed in frustration. The shem flinched back, clearly surprised, but did not speak as Luka sped up to put space between them.
The girl did not follow, and Luka was half-disappointed.
But no, in the end, once a shem, always a shem. He had let his guard down around her lately, had the first semblance of real conversation since Denerim, but she had proven to be just as ignorant and self-absorbed as the rest of the human population.
After a half hour, however, Luka calmed himself enough to reluctantly admit that he had reacted aggressively. The human girl was only seventeen to his two and twenty years, barely more than a child. Just like he, the girl had been unexpectedly conscripted into the Warden order to escape the law, although he didn't know the details.
He was a bit curious about that, actually, since a human girl had to do something serious to garner such a punishment, but Luka dismissed that line of questioning as quickly as it had come. She must have brought it upon herself, committed petty thievery or jilted some noble, and then whined incessantly about spending a night in prison. Luka had taken the law into his own hands, meted out justice, and was to be punished by injustice. She probably just skipped out on a deserved slap on the wrist.
He had reason, he chanted himself as they walked the last leg of their journey. He had damn good reasons to hate shems. All shems. Even if they pretended to be kind, to be harmless, they would show their claws eventually, fatally for him and those he cared about.
Rhythmic footsteps broke him out of his mantra, and he shut his eyes when he recognized the unmistakable gait of his dear fellow recruit. He had managed to avoid her since their altercation, but he should have known she would feel the need to ruin his peace once again. He sent a brief prayer to the Maker for patience, but he was certain it would go unanswered. His blood was still boiling from this morning, so he could already anticipate himself feeling that familiar red haze before snapping at whatever she said.
"Sorry about earlier," the shem'len girl chirped. Luka sped up his pace so that she would struggle to keep up, but she just trotted faster. "I didn't mean to be an insensitive piece of dog shit."
Though he would never admit it, the human's propensity towards uncouth language amused him to no end. She had a soft, musical voice that made even the foulest of curses sound sweet and begged leniency. He resisted the urge to forgive her, deciding instead to start counting his footsteps. Luka made it all the way to seven before his nagging thoughts turned the course of his mind. The fact that she apologized surprised him slightly, as she had never done so before even when he had gotten similarly angry.
An unformed question on his lips, he turned to look at her and then hastily stepped away to put some distance between them. She seemed to be blissfully ignorant of the concept of personal space and had been nearly touching his nose with her forehead. Even compared to elves, she was laughably small, her slight figure emphasized further by the sheer scale of her eyes. They were big and round, giving her a constantly amazed or frightened expression, made more so by her slightly downturned lips. She blinked at him, and Luka realized she was still waiting for a response.
"But you were an insensitive piece of dog shit," he shot back, his frustration mounting again.
Undeterred as usual, she sighed and scratched the side of her nose. "Yeah, I know. I just said that didn't I? But…" She scooted closer to him again and gave him the full brunt of a pleading expression. "I still wanna learn how to cook if you wanna learn to butcher cute li'l animals…"
With a soft grumble, Luka remembered the consequences of letting his guard down. He had made her a promise the other day, and he could not go back on that. "Fine," he growled, "but leave me alone otherwise."
Her mouth twisted into a frown, and she leapt forwards so that she was in front of him walking backwards, hands on her narrow hips. "Nuh uh," she stated, her colorful skirt swishing back and forth with her awkwardly fast steps. "I'm gonna follow you around like a parasite 'til you forget you hate humans."
"Never going to happen," Luka snapped back immediately.
He would never stop hating humans; of that, he was certain. The girl raised her arms in frustration as she was wont to do, and then suddenly tripped on a stone in the road. She tried valiantly to keep her balance but tumbled gracelessly to the ground instead. While he watched, Luka realized that he could have caught her, but the thought to do so had not even crossed his mind.
"Andraste's sagging tits!" the human squeaked and scrambled to her feet, shaking out her precious hair before dusting off the rest of her colorful, mismatched clothing.
Luka had stopped in front of her when she fell, eying her critically as she made herself presentable again. "That's why you should watch where you're going," he stated dryly.
The girl stuck her tongue out at him and spun around to continue marching forwards. Some of her hair smacked Luka in the face, and he spat out the strands that had gotten in his mouth with a grimace of disgust. Unlike Duncan, this girl was an endless flood of emotions and words, but, like the other human, she never seemed to take offense. The duality was somewhat disconcerting, but Luka had decided that she was simply too dense to take a hint.
She ran up to Duncan, who was leading them a few paces ahead. The girl's legs were so short that she was nearly sprinting just so that she could reach him, as Duncan tended to walk quite quickly and without regard for extraneous circumstances such as pouring rain or stifling fog. He had to give her points for never complaining about the speed or distance with which they traveled each day, never once having asked for a break.
The girl's loud relief at stopping each evening had at first filled Luka with disdain, but now he acknowledged that the pace was punishing even for him, whose stride was nearly twice as long. She was capable, for a human, but terribly annoying, even for a human. He watched with detached interest as she made it to Duncan's side and asked him a breathless question. Duncan replied in his usual contemplative manner, and then the girl trotted back towards Luka with a slight scowl on her face.
Luka stared at her with barely concealed amazement as she fell in step beside him. It appeared she would stay true to her word to stick to him like a leech, no matter his efforts to scare her away.
"I just asked Duncan how far we were from Ostagar, and he said,"—She deepened her voice and adopted a serene expression—" 'We will arrive soon. Be patient, my child.' "
Her imitation of Duncan's stern, measured tone was so spot-on, that Luka could not help a small smirk. He could sense that she was grinning at him smugly at her success in dragging a reaction out of him, but he did not give her the satisfaction of acknowledging it.
"We should arrive today, though," she continued in her normal voice, "before evening."
"Good," Luka snapped before he could help himself. "All this walking is ridiculous. My boots have nearly worn out."
The girl looked down at his shoes, and then gave him a critical once over. Her dark eyes turned thoughtful, and then caught the sunlight as she tilted her head to the side. Luka had thought her eyes to be brown until last night, when he noticed threads of green drawn out by the firelight. Now again, Luka caught sight of the green spiderwebbing through her irises. It was a puzzling sight, like the rest of her appearance.
He had been trying to guess her ethnicity since he first saw her. Her father had been pale-skinned like most Fereldans, but the girl had a dark skin tone and even darker hair. Duncan's skin was dark but tinted red, while the girl had a bluer tint, more chocolate-like than tan. Luka had not asked at the risk of seeming too friendly, but his curiosity was starting to grate at him. Maybe he should just spit out the question and get it over with.
"I can help you pick out a better pair," the little human suddenly said. Luka frowned at her, about to berate her for thinking he was incapable of choosing his own shoes, when she pointed to her own feet. "I've had these guys for two years now, and they're still holding up beautifully." She lifted her ruffled skirt slightly to reveal her footwear.
Luka remembered what she had said about spending her life on the road and deigned to study her boots before replying. They did look comfortable and sturdy, completely without the frills and rainbow array of colors he would have expected based on the rest of her ensemble.
"Fine," Luka decided gruffly. "I'll take your advice… into consideration."
The girl gave him a blinding smile and hopped forwards, humming happily under her breath as she settled herself in between him and Duncan. She reminded him of a small animal, he realized, and then there was her last name…
He could not call her shem or 'the human girl' forever, after all.
He grinned to himself, and then stared at her swaying hair. "Hey, Rabbit!" he called out.
The girl turned, looking about confusedly. "Where?" she asked. She tilted her head to the side as she often did, her hair flopping to one side, and Luka smirked again. It was perfect. "Wait…" She glared at him suspiciously and then pointed at herself, a questioning look on her face. Luka nodded, and she scowled. "I skin rabbits," she snapped.
Luka's smile widened as he realized that, finally, he had struck a nerve. When he did not reply, the little rabbit stomped one of her feet just like her new namesake.
"I'm not… ugh." She pointed at him accusingly, and then dashed back to Duncan, throwing parting words over her shoulder. "Yeah, well you're a shitty… piece of… cowpat!"
xXxXxXx
Ostagar was like nothing Luka had ever seen before. Having lived in Denerim, the capital of Ferelden, he had assumed he knew what a large structure was. The moment Ostagar's towers came into view in the distance, however, Luka realized that he had been dead wrong. Duncan had mentioned it to be an old Imperium ruin, but the sheer magnitude of the place was almost humbling.
Even in its dilapidated state, the fortress was obviously a wonder of craftsmanship. Many of the fallen blocks littering the base of the various towers were as tall as Luka himself, and the massive, intricately-wrought statues lining the main path had somehow weathered the ages. The sun was halfway between its zenith and the horizon but was quickly blotted out the moment they took a step beneath the first crumbling dome. The only exceptions were the odd shaft of light forcing its way through the gaps in the ceiling.
Looking around, Luka spotted few souls. Some soldiers roamed, squinting out into the open air along the edges or patrolling the twists and turns. He also noticed a scattering of Chantry sisters bowed or kneeling in reverent prayer. He supposed it was only expected that the Chantry would be present to support the soldiers, but he would feel more comforted if he saw an actual army.
The three walked in silence. A quick glance ahead told Luka that Rabbit was as awed than he. She was spinning in slow circles as she walked, her face the very picture of amazement. Every once and a while, she would stumble as if forgetting how to walk in the face of such magnificence. She met Luka's eyes and a shaky grin rose on her face. Pausing in her erratic progress, she waited until he reached her and then trotted along beside him.
"This is…" She took a deep breath and shook her head, seemingly at a loss for words. "This is… beautiful. Incredible. Brilliant. Amazing. Sodding massive." Luka should have known she would never stay speechless for more than a second.
Luka had to nod in agreement but said nothing. The size of the world was just beginning to dawn on him, which seemed odd after having traveled through Ferelden for the past eleven days, but walking along an open road surrounded by forest and passing the occasional fellow traveler was vastly different from this evidence that Denerim was not the hub of all things important.
"I mean," Rabbit continued without any encouragement, "I've been around, right, but I had no idea how…" She laughed softly and bounced on the heels of her boots briefly. "If this is what Tevinter's capable of—and never mind the opulence of Orlais—then we almost seem like backwards savages."
"I think both the Imperium and Orlais already think that of Fereldans," Luka pointed out dryly.
Rabbit laughed again and nodded furiously. "I'd take shit buildings over shit people any day, though. I've met a couple Orlesians about, and, wow, I'm amazed they can walk with their heads so far up their asses."
Luka felt his amusement being replaced by a scowl at her words. "I've met more than my fair share of shit Fereldans," he spat.
To his surprise, Rabbit simply nodded again, unperturbed by his sudden change in mood. Perhaps she was growing desensitized to his vocal venom, which might become troublesome. "True," she said, "but Denerim's got a lot more shit Fereldans than most of it." She waved her hands abstractly. "Way too many people think they're important 'cause they're near the castle." She smiled at Luka, this one far softer than her usual grin. He would have thought her to be pitying him if her eyes were not sparkling with mirth. "Every Orlesian thinks they're important just 'cause they've got big hats and a stupid accent."
Oddly enough, Luka felt his rage recede to a bearable simmer. Whether Rabbit was right or not was a moot point in his mind. She had not defended Fereldans per se, but instead tactfully presented them as the lesser of two evils. Luka could live with that.
"Also," Rabbit piped up again, returning her gaze to the ruins of Ostagar thoughtfully, "this place was probably built by slaves. 'Vints are famous for sitting on their gilded asses while all the lesser beings actually do everything."
At that, Luka regarded Ostagar with fresh eyes: It was magnificent because it was formed through the blood of however many innocents over however many years. Denerim may have been cruel, but it seemed that the world in its entirety had an even greater capacity for the mistreatment of those unlucky enough to be considered inferior. He turned to his companion, expecting her to have more to comment upon, but she was not looking at him. Amazingly, Rabbit seemed to be finished speaking for a moment, satisfying herself with watching the scenery as she and Luka continued to follow Duncan.
It was not long before they reached a bridge spanning a massive abyss. The long structure that served to connect the two ends of Ostagar was made of heavy stone and lined with more statues yet crumbling severely in places. Duncan and Rabbit stepped onto the bridge without a second thought, but Luka found himself frozen at the edge. He stared at the threshold separating the dirt path they had been following from the pale beige stone, willing his foot to glide forward, but it studiously ignored him.
"Oi, Luka!" He registered Rabbit's call in the back of his mind but did not acknowledge it. "You okay?"
Luka swallowed hard and leaned to his left. He immediately regretted that action, as he now realized just how deep the abyss ran. It stretched down almost as far as he could see; if he tripped or the wind buffeted him too hard, he would be dead. No, worse than that, he would be falling, aware of his inability to save himself, for seconds or minutes or however long until he finally broke all his bones on the ground below. Maker's sake, what if he did not die instantly, instead suffering in agony until he starved or bled out?
The world around him started to spin as though it were scheming to shove him off the edge. He felt himself start to sweat as his mind tried to find something with which to anchor himself to the ground. His gaze had blurred, however, so he had no idea what he could hold onto. He needed to sit down. Right now.
"You're scared of heights?"
So engrossed in his thoughts, Luka jumped straight up and then scrambled away from the edge of the abyss just in case. He nearly fell backwards in his haste, but at least the world stopped tilting.
"No!" he said far too forcefully to be believable. He cleared his throat and tried desperately to still his rapid heartbeat. "I'm just being cautious." Instead of sounding gruff and imperious, Luka's voice trembled like a scared little da'len. He hoped with all his might that Rabbit would not notice.
Of course, the Maker was not nearly as forgiving as the Chantry made him out to be, and Rabbit giggled at his plight. Luka could not help a blush spreading from his cheeks all the way to the tips of his ears, and Rabbit seemed to take pity on him for now.
"Oh, c'mon," she said more gently. She grabbed his wrist, and Luka tensed but did not pull away. "I'll walk on the crumbly side, yeah, and you walk in the middle with the wall at your side." Reluctantly, Luka allowed her to lead him from the edge and into the middle of the road. She released his hand but planted herself so close to his side that her shoulder brushed his arm. "Just look at the ground," she said softly as she began moving forwards.
Luka did not want to look at the damn ground. He felt the wind buffet him gently and he resisted the urge to run.
Rabbit's hand kept him anchored.
He was standing up straight. He was walking straight. He would not fall off unless Rabbit tossed him off. That seemed unlikely.
The wind would not blow him away, would it?
"This stone is so strong that it's survived for centuries," Rabbit continued, "since way back to when Tevinter was actually important. It's perfectly solid ground." She nudged her head against his shoulder, nearly sending Luka reeling. "But I'll catch ya if you fall."
Luka felt himself managing to keep up with Rabbit even though they were crossing the bridge quite quickly. To stay on Rabbit's right, he had to match her short yet hasty strides. He hated himself for this moment of weakness, especially having to rely on Rabbit to help him walk across a damn bridge. Rabbit continued speaking about silly things as she walked, as cheerful and chatty as ever while insulting the statues they passed and commenting on oddly-shaped clouds that apparently spelled out bad omens. By the time they reached the other side, Luka's heart was still pounding, his hands still shaking, but he had made it. That was what mattered.
He never wanted to do that again.
He also wanted to throw up.
Thankfully, Luka was distracted by his fellow recruit. With a laugh, Rabbit twirled in a quick circle, her skirts created a spinning rainbow where her legs would be. Duncan had been waiting, patient as ever, on the other side of the bridge, but was currently engaged in conversation with another human.
This man was tall, stately, and insufferably noble. His armor was as expensive as one could get, sparkling with gold and silver—the breastplate alone could probably buy out the entire Alienage, though that was not saying much. His golden hair, bright blue eyes, and high cheekbones screamed royalty, and Luka's fears were confirmed when Duncan gestured for them to some closer and Rabbit fell into a graceful curtsy.
"Your majesty," she murmured, more reverent than he had ever seen her. Luka glowered.
Again, just as she was starting to earn some respect from him, Rabbit went and ruined it all with one simple action. If anyone expected him to kneel to some shem'len lord, they would be supremely disappointed. He had thought Rabbit would at least hold her head up and look him in the eyes, king or no, but she kept her head slightly bowed and eyes fixed humbly on the ground even after she rose.
The king inclined his head towards Rabbit, a brilliant smile on his face. "You must be the new Warden recruits!" he cried jovially. "How brilliant!" Rabbit looked up, and offered him a small smile in return, still cowed. "From where do you hail, friend?" the king asked. "I've never seen rags worn so beautifully."
"I'm from all over, your majesty," Rabbit replied demurely. "I traveled with minstrels."
"Fantastic!" the king exclaimed, and then slapped her hard against the shoulder. Rabbit jolted forwards at the impact, a grimace of pain flashing across her face, but the king had already turned towards Luka. Somehow, his smile seemed to grow the moment he caught sight of Luka's pointed ears. "An elf!" he said happily. Luka almost expected him to giggle and clap his hands like a small child. "How quaint! From where do you hail, friend?"
Luka snorted in disdain at this shem's ignorance. "From one of you Alienages," he huffed. "Where else?"
"Ah!" the king said, unperturbed by Luka's tone. "And how is life there? My advisers do not allow me to visit, but I'm sure it must be delightful to be surrounded by your own family and culture."
All Luka could do was gape at him. He could not decide whether it was better or worse that the king was so blissfully unaware of the injustices occurring in his own country. Neither option was particularly heartwarming.
"It's… not as pleasant as that," he finally managed to reply. "We're treated worse than dogs."
The king gasped and looked to Duncan as if begging him to contradict Luka's statements. Duncan bowed his head slightly, no discernible expression on his face. "There are… perhaps some issues within this fine country, majesty," he said coolly. "The Blight, however, is our current priority."
The king brightened immediately, chattering on about glorious battles and heroic charges, while Luka bristled at his and Duncan's casual dismissal of his home. This king was a shem through and through, and both Duncan and Rabbit had made their allegiance immediately clear.
Luka, as always, was on his own.
