Sorry for the longer break, but live is rather busy at the moment. I am very grateful that Lakme puts up with me as a beta. :) Thank you so much!
And really, the village was near. On the remains of the Imperial Highway they inevitably were forced to interact with a group of bandits.
Maylea didn't like the looks of them as soon as she laid her eyes on them, even without regarding her usual aversion against humans. Harshal didn't seem to like them either, since the fur in his neck stood on end.
"Wake up gentlemen, there are travellers to attend to! Led by an elf, of all things."
"Err... they don't look much like them others, you know. Maybe we should let these ones pass."
"Nonsense. Greetings travellers!"
"Highwaymen. Preying on those fleeing the darkspawn, I suppose," Alistair mumbled and May merely gave a curt nod.
"They are fools to get in our way. I say: teach them a lesson," Morrigan said with a smirk and the elf had to admit that the thought seemed more than just charming at the moment.
"Now is that any way to greet someone? Tsktsktsk, a simple ten silvers and you're free to go."
For a Dalish, who never had encountered humans outside short fights – after the one incident she accidentally stumbled into the Keeper hadn't allowed her to go anywhere near humans again – it was rather confusing. He was sugar-coating something, that much was obvious to Maylea, but the look on his face assured her that he wasn't getting anything from her. His eyes were too greedy.
Gladly for her Morrigan spoke up, a sweet smile on her lips.
"You should listen to your friend, we're no refugees." The way the witch spoke rose goosebumps on Maylea's arms, and the dark promise which lightly peeked through the sweet layer of her words nearly made Lea sick.
"What did I tell you? No wagons and these ones look armed." It was obvious to all of them that the speaking thief was everything but the brightest candle in the chandelier. His leader scoffed.
"The toll applies to everyone, Hanric. That's why it's a toll, and not – say – a refugee-tax."
"Oh, right! Even if you're no refugee, you still gotta pay!"
"Finally grasping the obvious," Morrigan mumbled sarcastically under her breath and shortly May's corners of her mouth hitched upwards.
"So... you're toll-collectors, then?" Alistair asked sarcastically and crossed his arms in front of his chest while he looked at them with a cocked brow.
"Indeed! For the upkeep of the Imperial Highway. It's a bit of a mess, isn't it?"
Morrigan snorted and Alistair fought a laugh, while Maylea stood impassive between them. She kept her hand firmly on Harshal's shoulder and waited for a turn in the friendly words.
"Perhaps you should charge more then," Alistair suggested.
"You want to pay more? Oh, we happily accept donations."
Finally it was enough for Maylea and demonstratively she crossed her arms as well, while tilting up her head stubbornly.
"Forget it! We're not going to pay you thugs anything!" she exclaimed, her anger only raising more since none of the thugs seemed to take her seriously.
"Well, I can't say I like to hear that. We have rules you know."
"Right, we get to ransack your corpses then. Those are the rules."
May snorted enraged, "Stupid shemlen... you can certainly try."
"I thought you would allow the dim-wit to talk us through here." Morrigan hissed into her direction while aiming the tip of her staff at the bandit leader.
"Well, this is going nowhere. Let's finish this, gents."
On his word the group of bandits charged. Alistair bashed the first to the ground with his shield while Morrigan froze another to the core. The Mabari barrelled into the bandit that foolishly had decided to aim a sword swing into Maylea's direction. Said elf drew her daggers and crossed them to catch another sword thrust before it could get too close to her. A painful shriek slowly turned into a gurgle which told her that Harshal had ripped out a throat. The witch applauded to the dog's move with a cheer while Alistair seemed to turn a bit green around the nose. He knocked the leader off of his feet and May leaped onto the man's chest, crossing her blades right over his neck. She only stopped an inch before his skin; Harshal felled the dim-witted bandit who squinted at the tip of Morrigan's staff.
"All right! We surrender! We're just trying to get by before the darkspawn get us all!" the bandit exclaimed and May snorted while glaring at him.
"Trying to get by? You're a criminal!" Alistair spat at him.
"Yes, I'm a criminal. I admit it, I apologise."
"Apologise? You think that's going to suffice?" he asked.
"Hand over everything you have stolen," May hissed dangerously low.
"Yes... yes of course! The coins we have collected are right here! Just over a hundred silvers... the rest is in the chests we brought. I swear!" May's eyes turned into slits as she bent down to him, her lips nearly brushed his ear as she spoke to him.
"Run, shem. And don't. Come. Back." She leaped off of him, the deadly glare still on his face while he quickly got to his feet.
"B-bless you... the darkspawn can have this place." The two surviving bandits turned tail and fled. Morrigan scoffed as she poked a corpse with her staff.
"You should've killed them," the witch stated, but Maylea ignored her and looked on Harshal instead.
"Show them that we mean it." The dog barked and then dashed off, giving chase to the two survivors. May looked around but didn't take anything from the pile that they had stolen. Her gaze fell on a corpse next to one of the crates. He wore strange clothing, something she recalled seeing at Ostagar. The men that had watched the mages wore things like that. How had Morrigan called them? Templars? A crumpled note peeked out of one of his pockets and curiosity got her to take it. It said something about Redcliffe; perhaps she should show it to Alistair, but the way he looked right now...
Morrigan already went ahead and stopped at the ramp that led down from the Highway. Harshal came back, his tongue lolling out of his mouth as he gave the Dalish a doggy grin. She already loved that dog. Alistair trotted after them, obviously still lost in his thoughts. Seeing how chatty he had been at Ostagar and how he behaved now, he actually had her worried.
"Well... here it is. Lothering. Pretty as a painting." The sudden decision to speak again surprised both of the women, though Morrigan seemed to recover faster than May could.
"Ah, so you have finally decided to rejoin us, have you? Falling on your blade in grief seemed like too much trouble, I take it?"
"Is my being upset so hard to understand? Have you never lost someone important to you? Just what would you do if your mother died?"
Unseen of both Lea flinched and looked away; her own wound long wasn't healed.
"Before or after I stopped laughing?" Morrigan shot back, a smirk tugging at her lips.
"Right, very creepy. Forget I asked."
"Creators, please... leave him alone Morrigan," May said silently and looked at the witch pleadingly.
"But how can I? He is right there, speaking; eyes wide like those of a brainless calf!" The witch crossed her arms in front of her chest and cocked a brow at the elf before shooting a dark glare at Alistair.
"Oh, I get it. This is the part where we are shocked to discover how you never had a friend your entire life."
"I can be friendly when I desire to, alas... desiring to be more intelligent does not make it so."
Maylea simply looked at Morrigan; for a woman who claimed to be mature she acted rather childish.
"Anyway... I think we should talk about where we intent to go first," Alistair said, pointedly ignoring Morrigan and fixing his gaze on Maylea.
Said elf had sat down and leant against the stone railing behind her. Harshal took the advantage to snuffle in her ear before he gave her cheek a quick lick. Lightly irritated she gave him a shove and he sat down next to her. Lost in thoughts she chewed on her lower lip. Where to go first? The dwarfs? Creators, that sounded like a good idea, bringing the most frightening part behind themselves sounded like a plan. But what else? Asha'bellanar had said they should gather an army, Alistair himself had said the treaties were meant for the dwarfs, the mages and the Dalish. Looking for the latter was another matter. She longed to see her Clan again, though she wasn't gone for long she felt sick without them. But she didn't want to bring her shadows to what was left of her family.
"Maylea?" Alistair asked carefully and her eyes snapped up to him. Back at Ostagar she had scared him; nearly killing an officer without the use of any weapons was bound to leave an impression. But after the Joining her dark green eyes had lost the cold cover when she looked at him. Now she seemed so distant and the cold had returned. He fought hard not to make a step back as she looked at him. Though as soon as she noticed how uncomfortable her gaze made him the cold disappeared and he relaxed.
"Have you looked at the treaties?" he asked and she shook her head.
"You carry them and I'm not going to touch your belongings," she replied and he shortly bit his lip.
Again he reminded her of... quickly she shoved the thought aside before it could hurt her further. "You know we have treaties for dwarfs, mages..."
"And the Dalish, I know," she interrupted and then rubbed her forehead. "Abelas, I didn't mean to be rude. Though we need a place where we will start," she said and he nodded.
"I still think our best option will be Arl Eamon, and Redcliffe isn't far..." he trailed off and looked into the sky, while Lea turned her head and looked questioningly at Morrigan.
"If you ask me, I'd say go straight for that traitor Loghain," the witch said and the elf bared her teeth. The idea was tempting, but still...
"No. We would never reach him," she decided and Morrigan shrugged.
"You wanted my opinion."
"And you told it. In this case I think it's unwise," May said slowly and then stood up. She placed her hand lightly on Alistair's arm and he looked at her, his gaze still a bit clouded.
"Hm?" he asked and the elf frowned.
"You know I don't know about how you shemlen interact with each other, but is there a place where you exchange with others? Where you chat?" He seemed confused.
"Uh, yes... that would be the tavern. Why?"
"Perhaps we should go there and listen to what people say. We don't know what happened after Loghain's betrayal, and I don't like the idea of running around blindly," she suggested.
"I guess we can go there, yes. When we went down to Ostagar we came through here, there had been only one Tavern, as far as I can recall," Alistair stated.
"Then it's set," May decided and he gave a nod. Much to his displeasure the elf turned and looked at Morrigan.
"Can you buy supplies? I have no idea how one trades, I wasn't allowed to do so. And you are human, they should take you seriously." For a moment the witch seemed to consider it, but then she nodded. "I guess I can handle that, probably better than both of you." Only Alistair seemed to be rubbed the wrong way with her statement, Maylea remained unimpressed. Quite the contrary.
"Ma serannas, Morrigan." The relieved smile she wore let the witch look away, she felt uncomfortable to be the one to receive gratitude.
"Just make your trip quick," she said while she took the coins Alistair handed her, before she turned and walked into the village. He watched her with an irritated frown, but as soon as she disappeared out of sight the mask he had worn since they left Flemeth's hut returned. May knew the look, she was pretty sure she had looked exactly the same as Duncan had taken her away from her family.
"Do you want to talk?" she asked quietly and his head snapped into her direction.
"Pardon?" he asked and she repeated her question.
"Do you want to talk about it? About Duncan?"
He flinched. "You don't have to do that, you know. You didn't know him as long as I did..."
To her it seemed like he was trying to avoid it and she looked away, the pain in his eyes was too much for her to bear. Instead she looked over the village in front of them.
"He was like a father to you. I understand."
She didn't need to see the look on his face, the way he spoke was enough for her to feel his sadness.
"I should handle it better. Duncan warned me from the beginning that this could happen. I shouldn't have lost it, not when so much is riding on us, not with the Blight... and everything. I'm sorry." A sad smile tugged at Maylea's lips. Grief and Sorrow weren't things one should apologise for. Arrogance and ignorance, yes, but mourning the loss of someone dear to your heart... no.
"There... there is no need to apologise," she choked out and shortly looked up into his face.
"I... I'd like to have a proper funeral for him. Maybe once this is all done... If we're still alive... As far as I know he had no family," he mumbled more to himself and she felt the need to cheer him up.
"He had you," the elf offered and a humourless short laugh escaped him.
"I suppose he did. It probably sounds stupid, but a part of me wishes I had been with him, in the battle. It feels like I abandoned him." May felt grief hacking its claws into her heart, she understood him too well.
"He saved your life by sending you to the tower." Even to herself her voice sounded hollow.
"Yes. I know. I think he came from Highever. Or so he said. Maybe I'll go there sometime. Putting up something in his honour. The Dalish do not practise cremation, right? How do you people honour your dead?"
She couldn't bear to look at him, not with all the memories the conversation had stirred up. Stubborn, she blinked some tears away and tried to swallow the lump that formed in her throat. Then she turned her gaze up into the sky.
"We bury them." It came out as a mere whisper. She swallowed again. "We bury them and plant a tree over their remains."
"That sounds quite beautiful. New life springing from death," his voice had turned soft and now she turned to look at him.
"Thank you. Really, I mean it. It was good to talk about it, at least a little."
She shortly frowned, "Maybe I'll go with you... to Highever," she silently said.
"I'd like that. So would he, I think." For a short moment she could picture Duncan in front of her inner eye with a small smile, but the image disappeared as fast as it had popped up.
"I don't mean to pry, but... have you lost someone dear to you?" His voice was guarded, as was his expression. Anyone else and she would've shouted angrily, but something about this Shem made her pause. Her inner voice whispered 'He's still a child in many ways... do not judge him too harsh... he's different, you can see it...' and she bit her lip. She knew her eyes were showing all the pain she felt and gave a curt nod.
"Yes... in more ways than you might imagine."
"Oh... I... I'm sorry..." he quickly said and looked so helpless. Now she knew how Hahren Paivel or Master Ilen must have felt when she was a little girl. She smiled, even if it was a sad smile.
"Don't apologise. You cannot know what I haven't told. If it hurts me, it is my own fault," May fought to keep her composure, then she turned to walk down the second ramp and he quickly followed, nearly bumping into Harshal while doing so.
"I... uh... do you... want to talk about it? I mean you listened to me... and... But I understand if you don't want... it's alright..." he babbled and blushed. 'Great, embarrass yourself even more, will you?' he scolded himself but the look she gave him made him pause.
"Maybe someday, Alistair. If I'm healed enough I will take you up on your offer." A short click with her tongue and Harshal trotted down to her, bumping his nose against her side.
"We will look around, stay close," she said and Harshal barked once before he looked at Alistair, almost as if to say 'Come on! Move already!'
"Look at all those people. The despair..." Alistair broke off and looked around. They ignored the Templar who told them it would be wiser to move on since none of them thought about staying here longer than needed.
"Am I allowed to ask you something?" he asked and looked at her curiously.
"Depends... what's the question?" May asked back.
You said something elfish... when you beat up that officer... what does it mean ?" First she seemed confused, but then it dawned to her.
"Ah, you mean that." He looked at her expectantly and she frowned, "Um... that wasn't exactly nice. I insulted him in the heaviest way I could."
"I thought as much. To be honest it didn't even sound like it came from this side of the veil," he mumbled and she looked at him confused.
"You sounded more like a demon."
"I... I felt like one, actually. I heard this voice in my head, speaking to the dark parts of my being." Alistair looked at her and then sighed.
"If I'm allowed to be honest to you, I feared that you wouldn't make it. I saw my share of tainted people, and none of them would have been able to think for themselves in such a state."
This time he saw her flinch and wondered what had happened to her.
"Without my Keeper I would be dead," she said silently, "As I should be."
Harshal decided it would be a good moment to distract them and let out a bark before he dashed off. "Harshal!" she called out and then ran after him.
"May! Maker's breath!" and Alistair followed as well. The Mabari ran through the village and then stopped dead in front of a cage.
"Harshal! You cannot run off like that!" she scolded the dog and then looked at the cage and froze. She was used to not being tall, even with her own kind she wasn't tall – Merrill had two inches more height than herself – but next to that... thing... she felt like a dwarf.
"You are not one of my captors. I have nothing to say that will amuse you, elf. Leave me in peace." Forgetting about proper behaviour she stared up at the... man?
"What are you?" she asked and he rolled his eyes.
"I'm a prisoner. I'm in a cage, am I not?" his voice was calm but annoyance showed no less.
"I didn't mean that. I can see that you're locked away. I was referring to your... lineage? Your kind?" Maylea couldn't recall that she ever saw something like him.
"I am Sten of the Beresaad, the Vanguard of the Qunari peoples."
She chewed on the information. During the last Arlathvhen she had heard the word 'Qunari', though she didn't know what it meant. "I am Maylea, pleased to meet you. And how did you end up here?" She didn't care whether she was rude or not, not right now anyway. He seemed to be so much stronger than any Shem could ever be, yet he remained there in this cage. Surely there would have been a way to escape already.
"You mock me. Or you show manners I have not come to expect in these lands. Though it matters little now, I will die soon enough. I have been placed here by the Chantry," he replied honestly.
May turned to look at Alistair who simply shrugged.
"Not to put too fine a point on it, but Qunari are renowned warriors. If we could release him, perhaps he might help us." And with that he mouthed her thoughts.
"I suggest you leave me to my fate," Sten interrupted. But Maylea wasn't going to give up so easily. He seemed to be a proud warrior, and shouldn't be locked up like an animal.
"What did you do to end up in here?" she asked confused.
"I have been convicted of murder. Have the villagers not spoken of this?" he asked briskly and she looked at him angrily.
"I'm not gossiping with Shemlen," she spat out, unaware that Alistair flinched behind her. Then she closed her eyes and shook her head to clear her thoughts. Neither Sten nor Alistair deserved her anger.
"If I might ask, whom did you murder?" she could already tell the answer would shock her.
"The people of a farm hold, eight humans in addition to the children," he stated, his voice devoid of any emotion. She blinked as his answer settled into her mind.
"That's... horrible," she choked out.
"I agree," again there was this stoic calmness.
She looked at Alistair, but his face seemed blank. Harshal on the other hand was another matter. He had sat down and tilted his head while looking intently at the Qunari. He didn't seem frightened, as far as she could tell he seemed relaxed.
'Staying mad at others is easy, da'len. Forgiving is harder, but no less you should try.' Hahren Paivel's voice echoed through her head, though back then as he told her he had meant someone else, in this particular case it had been Junar. This didn't change the fact that he was right.
"Are you interested in seeking atonement?" she asked him and Sten sounded final.
"Death will be my atonement."
"There are other ways to redeem yourself," she argued back, which seemed to give him pause.
"Perhaps. What does your wisdom say is equal to my crime?"
"You could help us defend the land against the Blight," she suggested.
"The Blight?" The way he said it, nearly shouted it, made both the Wardens look at him in question.
"Are you Grey Wardens then?" Sten asked and May looked at Alistair again, who gave a curt nod.
"Yes," she replied shortly.
"Surprising. My people have heard legends about the Warden's strength and skill, though I suppose not every legend is true."
May frowned at his statement but turned to look at her fellow Warden again.
"Who do we need to speak to, if we want him freed?" she asked.
"The Revered Mother, though I can imagine her answer already," Alistair muttered while he eyed the giant warily.
"I'm not going to accept a 'no'," May retorted and he laughed out.
"There is no need to accept it. We're Wardens, which means we can use the Right of Conscription," he said that so matter-of-factly that she cocked a brow at him.
"I still have a lot to learn, don't I?" she asked and he winked at her with a grin. "Maybe later, at camp." A smile tugged at her lips, seeing her own words used against her. Then she turned back to Sten.
"Would the Revered Mother set you free?" she asked.
"Perhaps if you told her the Grey Wardens need my help. It seems as likely to bring my death as waiting here," the Qunari stated dryly. Maylea had to give him credit for staying as calm as he did.
"I will see what I can do. I will leave you for now," she said and shortly dipped her head.
"Farewell, then. My thanks, elf."
Alistair led her back into the village and stopped right in front of an imposing building. The Dalish felt intimidated by its size and built. Before she could say anything to him nearby shouting drew their attention.
"That's a Chasind. What's he doing?" Alistair asked silently and May's eyes narrowed.
"He's scaring them, wait a moment." He didn't go with her and waited. Watching her was quite interesting. She didn't speak loud or with her hands, yet she was intimidating. The way her eyes could shoot daggers was enough to give him the chills. Maker preserve that he'll ever be the one receiving these looks. Shortly after the Chasind disappeared crying and the gathered mass of people dissolved. Rolling her eyes she came back to him.
"What did you do? Curse them?" he asked with a snicker and she shook her head.
"No. Shooed the Chasind away and urged the rest to do something. Creators... I'm helping humans," she sighed miserably and clasped her hands over her face while shaking her head.
"Is that so bad?" he asked and tried to hide the hurt in his voice.
"If you'd know..." she mumbled under her breath and then straightened up. "Well, let's go in then."
But the visit within these walls was rather short for Maylea. She shoved the note and the locket she had taken from the dead Templar to Alistair – after her not-so-nice talk with the Revered Mother – and stormed out of the building. She paced up and down angrily, cursing violently under her breath. After wishing the Dread Wolf on her trail for the sixth time Alistair left the building as well.
"How can you look for guidance in such stubborn old fools?" she asked angrily and he cocked a brow at her.
"Well... I could've told you that intimidating won't be wise," he replied amused.
"I wasn't!" she shouted at him and then closed her eyes and led her head hung. "I failed, right?" she asked and he snickered.
"You got the key without your use of weapons. I'd say you've shown me that you need some practise in interacting with my kind."
"Ugh," was her only reply, causing him to laugh even harder.
"Let's put that to work. Come on, we still have a tavern to visit," he chuckled and nudged her lightly at the shoulder. She shot him a dark glare and he winked.
"Qunari. First. Now." she choked out and stomped off, while Alistair followed her still snickering. Harshal bounced around May but stopped as he got her mood, and let himself fall behind. Alistair gave the dog a scratch and then they strolled towards the cage.
Sten just left it and grabbed one of the swords Morrigan held. Wait... Morrigan?
"'twas easy to find you. The whole village is gossiping about you," she said and looked down on the elf with an amused smirk.
"Wait until you hear what sacrilege else I committed," Maylea hissed through gritted teeth and then the witch bent down to ask her something. As the short and whispered conversation was done, Morrigan laughed out in delight.
"You, Warden, are definitely worth staying around!" Neither Maylea nor Sten seemed to be pleased about her exclamation.
"I hate to interrupt your private moment, but there's a tavern to visit," Alistair interjected and received three unfriendly glares. But they knew he was right.
The tavern was full, really crowded, but as soon as they caught sight of the giant Qunari all conversations stopped dead.
"I don't like it here," Maylea mumbled and took half a step back, nearly bumping into Sten.
"Well... look what we have here, men. I think we just have been blessed." A heavy armoured man stepped towards them and shot glares at Alistair and the elf.
"Uh-oh... Loghain's men... this can't be good," Alistair mumbled and May frowned.
"Didn't we spent the whole morning asking about two persons by this very description and everyone said they hadn't seen them?" Another armoured man spoke up.
"It seems we were lied to."
May scanned the room and noticed even more soldiers.
"Gentlemen, surely there is no need for trouble. These are no doubt simply more poor souls seeking refuge," a red haired woman interrupted and stepped towards them. The elf recognised the robes right away and gritted her teeth. Alistair noticed and moved himself a bit forward to shield the woman, should Maylea decide to jump at her.
"They are more than that. Now stay out of our way, sister. If you'll protect these traitors, you'll get the same as them."
"Traitors? We are no traitors!" Alistair growled and the red haired woman turned to look at him.
"Teyrn Loghain claims the Grey Wardens betrayed the king. Haven't you heard?"
"Enough talk! Take the Wardens into custody. Kill the sister and anyone else that gets into your way." "Right, let's make this quick."
They charged immediately, but this time Alistair was faster than the Dalish and threw himself at their obvious leader, his features twisted in anger. The man stood no chance against the Warden's wrath and Maylea saw with bitter satisfaction how Alistair pummelled the soldier, but too fast it was over. The Qunari simply lifted the hopping mad Warden off of the helpless soldier, before he could disgrace himself further in his eyes.
"Alright... we surrender..." the man wailed and his men dragged him back to his feet. "We surrender..."
"Good. They've learned their lesson and we can all stop fighting now," Again the redhead spoke up and May snarled.
"The Grey Wardens didn't betray King Cailan. Loghain did," Alistair growled and fought against the restraining Qunari hand on his shoulder.
"I was there! The Teyrn pulled us out of a trap!" The beaten soldier spat back and Alistair bared his teeth.
"The Teyrn left the King to die!" he roared, not caring that the entire tavern gaped at them now.
"The Wardens led the King to his death! The Teyrn could do nothing!" They stared at each other heatedly until May's voice broke the silence.
"Take a message to your Teyrn," she said and stared coldly at the soldier.
"W-what do you want to tell him?" he asked and flinched away from the Dalish's stare.
"The Grey Wardens know what really happened."
"Y-yes. I will tell him... right away. Now." At a nod of his head his men helped him out of the tavern and away. Alistair clenched and unclenched his fists, his face still a mask of anger, but at least Sten released him out of his grip.
"I apologise for interfering, but I couldn't just sit by," the redhead said.
"And who are you anyhow?" May hissed and heard Morrigan snicker darkly behind her.
"Let me introduce myself. I am Leliana, one of the lay sisters of the Chantry here in Lothering. Or I was." She wore exactly the same robes as the old shrew within the pompous building.
"And is there something you wanted from us?" the elf asked unfriendly and could swear that she heard another amused sound from the witch.
"Those men said you are Grey Wardens. You will be battling the darkspawn, yes? That is what Grey Wardens do. I know after all that happened you will need all the help you can get. That's why I'm coming along." The confidence in her voice fuelled the hunter's smouldering hatred towards humans, it was the same arrogance they received everywhere they went.
"I'm sorry sister... but you are very mistaken," she hissed but the woman didn't mind.
"Oh, I thought you might say that. But you see, the Maker wants me to join you."
"Um... right. I believe this is when I back away slowly," May didn't know much about the humans and their beliefs, but she did know that their god had abandoned them just like the Creators had left the elves. And neither gods communicated with any of their creations. Surely this woman was mentally...touched, as Hahren Paivel would've said it.
"I know that sounds absolutely insane, but it's true. I had a dream, a vision," Leliana seemed to get desperate.
"More crazy? I thought we were all full up," Alistair mumbled and earned a whack on the head from Morrigan with her staff. He hissed a silent "ow" and shot her a glare while rubbing the back of his head.
"Look at the people here... they are lost in their despair. And this darkness, this chaos will spread. The Maker doesn't want this. What you do, what you are meant to do, is the Maker's work. Let me help."
Involuntarily May curled up her upper lip and bared her teeth. She couldn't care less about their Maker. "You feel sorry for the people? Help them here," she spat and turned to leave.
"Then what? What happens when the Horde comes? It will follow anywhere we flee until all we know is destroyed!" Leliana made a step towards her and reached out her hand, but knew better than to touch the elf.
"We need more than prayers, I'm afraid," May said coldly and shot her a glare.
"I can fight. I can more than fight. As I said I haven't always been a lay sister. I put aside that life when I came here, but now... if it is the Maker's will... I will take it up again, gladly. Please let me help you!" she pleaded but May only stared at her.
"We don't need your help, sister." The elf said acidly and went towards the door.
"But I... alright. I will go. For now. It's not important that you believe what I say, only that you serve the Maker in the end. Think about it please, that is all I ask," Leliana looked sad but Maylea didn't care.
They hurriedly left the tavern and both Wardens let off steam as soon as they were outside. Sten stood like a statue and watched them without any emotion; Harshal sat down next to him and whined curiously, only Morrigan seemed to be pleased. The elf cursed violently in her native tongue while she paced up and down and Alistair growled under his breath and kicked some pebbles aside.
"'tis rather funny to watch you two making fools out of yourself in front of everyone here, but I think we should decide what to do from now on," Morrigan said with an amused smirk.
"Let's get out of this village; the sheer amount of humans is making me sick," May growled and again Alistair shortly flinched painfully.
"Then let us take leave," the witch said and turned away. With a sigh the elf followed her, Sten, Harshal and Alistair trailing behind them.
As the Imperial Highway was already in sight they met Leliana again.
"Hello again. So will you let me help you? Will you let me come?" she asked brightly and May barely resisted the urge to slap her hand over her eyes and shake her head.
"Creators... not you again," she sighed.
"I'll be honest, when I heard about the darkspawn I felt something urging me to leave my sheltered live in the cloister and do something. Anything. And then the vision, it cannot be coincidence that you were brought here so soon after I was called by the Maker."
"Her plea seems wholehearted. And even though she seems a little... strange... she does have skill. I vote to let her come along," Alistair muttered and May heaved a sigh.
"Alistair... she is one Archdemon short of a Blight," she said and he grinned.
"Yes, but she seems more 'Oh! Pretty colours!' than 'mwhahaha! I'm Princess Stabbitty, stab, kill, kill'."
May couldn't help but snicker at that and shook her head.
"Very well, if you insist," she gave in and hoped it wouldn't come back to bite her in the a...
"Thank you! I won't let you down, I promise!" Leliana beamed and May looked tiredly at Alistair who only grinned and shrugged.
As they set foot on the Imperial Highway they spotted a pair of dwarfs who were attacked by a Vanguard of darkspawn. They quickly killed them and after a short conversation with the dwarves they marched on.
"So, where are we going?" Leliana asked happily and May rolled her eyes.
"We're going to Redcliffe," she stated and Alistair cocked a brow.
"I wouldn't have thought you'd go there first. What brought this up?"
"The fact that Loghain is telling lies about us. You said this Arl is popular with your kind, so if he can tell them that this Teyrn is spilling lies it'll probably keep them off of our back."
It sounded reasonable and he wasn't about to argue with her, not since he wanted to go there first himself.
"So... you said this Arl Eamon raised you?" May asked Alistair silently as they had left Lothering behind.
"Did I say that? I mean dogs raised me, giant slobbering dogs from the Anderfels. A whole pack of them, in fact." The amused twinkle in his eyes didn't go unnoticed and May fought back a smirk. This human was definitely nothing like the others.
"That would explain the smell," she retorted and he snickered.
"Well, it wasn't until I was eight that I discovered that you didn't have to lick yourself clean. Old habits die hard you know." As he looked at her he tried to stay serious, but the corners of his mouth gave him away.
"That would explain the breath as well then," May was proud on how serious she sounded, though laughter threatened to spill out.
"And my table manners too. Though come to think of it, they weren't all that different from the other Templars. Or did I dream all of that? Funny the dreams you'll have when you sleep on cold hard ground, isn't it? Are you having strange dreams?" Suddenly all the amusement she had felt died away and she looked on the ground in front of her feet.
"Yes," was all that she said and he sighed inwardly. Again he managed to have her shy away when he thought he'd finally get her to open up a bit.
"Let's see, how do I explain this? I'm a bastard. And before you make any smart comments, I mean the fatherless kind. My mother was a serving girl in Redcliffe castle who died when I was very young. Arl Eamon took me in and put a roof over my head. He wasn't my father and he was very good to me, though he didn't have to be. I respect the man and I don't blame him anymore for sending me off to the Chantry once I was old enough."
The elf tried to picture him in the same suits and armour like the Templars she had just seen today, the way they acted and everything, but it didn't fit together with the image she had of him. She shook her head and then frowned while looking up at him.
"But you blamed him back then?"
"I was young, resentful and not very pious. Of course I blamed him. I remember screaming at him like a little child. Well, I was a child, so I doubt he was surprised. Arl Eamon eventually married a young woman from Orlais, which caused all sorts of problems between him and the King since it was so soon after the war, but he loved her. The new Arlessa resented the rumours which pegged me as his bastard. They weren't true, but they existed. The Arl didn't care, but she did. So off I was packed off to the nearest monastery at the age ten. She made it very clear in every way that the Castle wasn't a home to me anymore. She despised me."
Again May shook her head.
"Amongst my people no child is left out in the rain. It doesn't matter if you're Dalish or a flat-ear, if you've lost your parents the whole Clan is there for you. Even for all the cruelty your kind is famous for, that surely is an awful thing to do to a child."
"She felt threatened by my existence, I know that now. She surely wondered if the rumours were true, I bet. I remember I had an amulet, with Andraste's holy symbol on it. The only thing I had of my mother's. I was so furious that I was sent away that I tore it off and threw it at the wall and it shattered. Stupid, stupid thing to do. The Arl came by the Monastery a few times to see how I was, but I was too stubborn to talk to him, I hated it there, and eventually he stopped coming."
"You were a child," May said and he shrugged.
"And raised by dogs, or I could as well have been, the way I acted. All I know is that the Arl is a good man and well loved by the people. He also was King Cailan's uncle, so he has a personal motivation to see justice to Loghain."
Maylea fell silent and thought about what he had told her. As far as she had seen humans lacked compassion towards her own kind, so their advantage surely must lie in their numbers. To her it was impossible to imagine how a child could be treated like Alistair had just described to her.
As soon as they had set up camp Maylea peeled herself out of her armour. She piled it neatly in the front area of her tent before she changed into her good old worn deer leather pants and a simple shirt. And most important of all: no boots! Feeling the earth under her bare feet was more than just soothing. She took her father's journal and then headed back to the fire. They had already eaten – Bodahn and Sandal had joined them no less – and now most of them retreated for the evening. May shut out every noise and picked up reading where she stopped before Lothering. There wasn't much left of his writings and she couldn't stop reading. She had learned much about how the Clan got together, the routes they moved and how he had met her mother. Lost in thoughts she had pulled out her mother's keepsake from under her shirt and trailed her fingers lazily in circles over it while she read.
"You look sad." Alistair's voice ripped her out of her thoughts and she looked at him confused.
"What?" she asked bemused.
"I said you look sad," he repeated and she shortly smiled.
"Not entirely, more lost in thoughts, actually." She put her bookmark into her father's journal and closed it carefully.
"You are reading this since we left Flemeth," he stated and she nodded.
"Yes. I didn't realise you noticed. You didn't seem to pay much attention before Lothering."
He looked into the fire and searched for some witty reply, but he couldn't find any.
"I had been the same... as Duncan brought me to Ostagar," she muttered with a frown and looked at the fire.
"How was life for you?" he asked softly. He was curious, he couldn't imagine how…
"Hard but good," she said with the pride back in her eyes. "We are free; we roam in places no human dares to go."
"I didn't mean how your people would say it. I mean how you experienced it," he clarified and the thoughtful look returned to her face.
"It had been perfect. Though I grew up without my parents no child is ever left alone. I had a foster mother – Ashalle – who took good care of me. The whole Clan sees to it that an orphan is raised and educated properly. So I never felt like I was missing something. We are constantly moving, for our own safety. When I was younger I didn't understand the reason behind it… but a few years ago I learned the hard way why. We move in areas where humans are few; we even travel in the outskirts of the Korcari Wilds two times a year."
"Really? But isn't it creepy there?" he interjected and she shook her head.
"It is… hard to explain. I only eavesdropped on a few hushed conversations about Asha'bellanar and how she influences everything in the Wilds."
"Asha-what?" he asked and she looked at him as if he had two heads.
"Asha'bellanar, Flemeth, Morrigan's mother. My people have many stories about her. To be honest, we only know of two other Dalish Clans who move around there, one even deeper in the Wilds than any of us would dare to go. The constant mist is something to get you the chills, that's right, but there were never animals that would attack us. And the Chasind are easily avoided, if necessary. Not that they would dare to attack us, no. In fact they occasionally help us and we even trade with them."
For a long while they sat there in silence. May was in her thoughts, back with her Clan, in the good times with Tamlen. Even thinking his name, recalling his face, everything that reminded her of him hurt. She felt his Enansal weighing her down, burning on her skin and she reached up to lightly touch it through the fabric of her shirt while tears formed in the corners of her eyes. Why him? Again it was Alistair's soft voice that brought her back.
"You spoke of an incident, a few years ago. What was it?" he asked and she froze. He saw her tense and cursed himself for prying. But she remained silent. She couldn't tell him, not now, not yet... maybe never. With one fluid motion she stood up and looked at him, the small braids that usually held her hair were undone and it hang like a black curtain around her face.
"You should sleep, Alistair. I'll take the first watch."
With that she headed over to the place Harshal had chosen for the night and sat down next to her Mabari. She waited until she heard light snoring from behind before she let her façade crumble and she started to cry. Harshal sat up and nudged her shoulder gently with his nose; a low whine escaped his muzzle as he gave her cheek a lick. She flung her arms around him and buried her face in the fur of his neck and cried until she had no more tears to shed. Everything came back, crushed down on her. She was alone in a world she didn't understand, without a link back, without a chance of going back and what hurt her most was Tamlen's loss.
She closed her eyes and could see him, the way he smiled, the way his eyes seemed to twinkle whenever he got the chance to tease Junar, the way he had looked when he had received his Vallaslin, the way he pouted when he was to stay at camp while she got to go hunting and the last image that burned itself into her very core: the way he had looked at her as she had accepted his proposal. She choked a wail before she would wake the whole camp. She would face the Dread Wolf himself to get him back, but there was no way of doing so, she knew that. Grief and sorrow pulled at her heart and she fought hard to clear her mind.
"Abelas, Harshal. I didn't mean to lose it," she mumbled and he gave her face another lick before tilting his head and giving her a doggy grin.
"You're a gift of the Creators." The rest of her watch she kept her mind focused on her actual problem, the Blight. As it was time for the change of shift she decided she'd rather face the Qunari than her fellow Warden. Sten merely gave her a nod as she said it's his time to take watch and exhausted she went into her tent. She curled herself up in her bedroll and tried to sleep, but sleep didn't come. Shortly later she heard snuffling sounds and scratching in front of her tent and opened the flaps. Harshal was looking at her and with a sigh she patted her bedroll and he crawled in, plopping down next to her and exhaling a content sigh. With his warmth near it was easier for her to push away the nasty thoughts and finally she fell asleep. This night the nightmares avoided her and for that she was grateful. But crying out her eyes each night wasn't a solution either. And in the morning she paid the price.
Her eyes were swollen and ached as the first light hit them. Groaning she clasped her hand over her eyes while she shoved Harshal off of her legs and left her tent. Ignoring Leliana and Alistair she walked up to Morrigan's tent. The witch was already busy and cocked a brow at the approaching elf curiously.
"Morrigan, may I ask you something?" she mumbled and the witch stood up.
"You already did. But you may do so again."
"Do you have any herbs that could help me with this?" She lifted her hand a bit and Morrigan frowned.
"I have a salve that will help. What did you do? Rub your face in hot ashes?"
"I wish it was something like that," Lea grumbled but Morrigan didn't ask further. The witch applied a bit of her salve around the elf's eyes and the stinging nearly vanished immediately.
"Ma serannas, Morrigan." The woman only cleared her throat and mumbled something unintelligible under her breath while shooing the Dalish away.
