It was arranged that evening that Isabela would give them a ride across the sea.
That was followed by a night of drinking, fun, and getting to know the city from its lowest point: the Hanged Man. Even Brun was accepted as the swill of that tavern muddied the prejudice of its inhabitants. The night drank on over the course of several games of Wicked Grace and the meeting of new friends, as everyone was a friend when you've drank as much as Klyde did that night.
She woke in the morning with a steady hangover thudding against her head, and spent the day napping and rationing and planning the next journey. She had a map of Ferelden and wasn't quite sure how to traverse the rough country. She sent out Meriam, who was in an exceedingly pleasant mood after ending her night with Isabela, to buy enough leather for all of them to have warm armor. She pored over the map a bit longer- to the west of Lake Calenhad, the Imperial Highway twisted a shorter route through dangerous territory where villages were few and far between; to the east, a longer path twisted through cities still rebuilding after the blight, but known for their endurance.
Eventually, she settled on the direct, western path, and decided after she dropped off the dwarf she'd loop around to the east. Brun would accompany them as far as Gherlen's Pass by Orzammar, and then part ways to go to Orlais. She sent a message ahead of time and would be greeted there by safe company to travel with.
The rest of the day waned slowly into night as planning was settled and they grew more comfortable around their new companions. Klyde turned in for an early rest; she'd been feeling… Weird. It was as if a fog rested between her mind and her physical state, like the dizziness when you know you're about to pass out. Meriam was concerned, she could tell, but thankfully didn't ask. Klyde reached the room and lay there in the candlelight for some time, and then, finally, fell asleep.
She dreamt she was walking down rough trail of dirt, along a hill-side of dying grass. The sky was dark and cloudy, casting a thick mist over much of the ground. Spruce trees rose in the distance, past a fork in the path. She reached the fork- to her left, the path twisted into the forest; to her right, it curved uphill, to more spruce and fir. She took the right, lengthening her strides to make better time. Something waited at the top, she knew-
But just as she reached it, she woke.
She remained in bed, listening to the sounds of Lowtown and puzzling over the dream, as she waited for the day to arrive. Somewhere, a whore moaned in an alley. At one point, she heard the distinct ringing of steel. Several buildings away held muffled shouting. Someone snored farther down the hall. But what had the dream meant?
Several times before, Klyde had had meaningful dreams. Sometimes, her dreams meant nothing. This one, she knew, was the former; she could feel it in the way memories of the dream tugged at her mind, pulling her back to it, forcing her to think about it. A forked path- had she been there before? She couldn't remember seeing it, but still, she knew at some point she would reach it. Or perhaps it was metaphorical; a fork in the path would approach, and she should go uphill, rather than to the forest. But both ways eventually led there.
She shook herself and rose as the serving girl from downstairs called for breakfast. It was a new mystery stew, or porridge- she opted for the latter, with a pint of hot cider to help her wake. Isabela came down soon after, and gave approval of Klyde's choice of breakfast. They ate together quietly as Varric, Brun and Meriam stirred, and Isabela introduced Klyde to a few of the sailors sailing with them.
They left shortly after, out onto the sea as the dawn tinged the waves gold and pink. For the first day, Klyde read some of Varric's newest addition to the Swords and Shields series. Neither of them quite liked it, and spent some time working on it. For the second day, Klyde did what she could around the ship, and worked on Meriam's weaponry. She almost had a longsword known well enough to survive a Bronto with it. The third day, Klyde walked out onto the deck in the dawn and was captured by the beauty of the mist that lay over the sea.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Isabela said, coming to lean on the railing next to her. Klyde nodded, trying to find words.
"I never liked gray dawns until now."
"The sea has that effect on people; that's part of why I love it so much."
Klyde laughed softly, hearing the sound swallowed by the mist. "I can't imagine a life always on the sea- beautiful, adventurous, but not for me."
"It's not for most people," Isabela offered. "But from what I hear, your life holds adventure enough."
Klyde rose one brow. "Meaning?"
"Meriam told me about how you came to be so good with a blade. You've lived an exciting life; even Hawke would be in competition."
Klyde chuckled. "I don't think it's that exciting. I'm missing the rebel mage lover, the pirate and ex-slave for best friends, oh, and the dragon-slaying and city-saving part. Otherwise, we're just about even."
Isabela grinned, and Klyde could see the memories dancing behind her brown eyes. It was no wonder Hawke had taken a liking to this woman- just looking at her put you under her spell, and her charming personality only added to it.
"You have an apostate and an ex-Tal Vashoth, and that Iron Bull fellow," Isabela pointed out. "You're getting there."
"Meriam would've been the one to say something about Iron Bull. I only knew him for two weeks and then we parted ways; Meriam deemed chemistry and friendliness as love."
Isabela leaned down. "Maybe so, but mercenaries aren't known for their affection."
"The Chargers are different," Klyde argued, and Isabela's eyebrows rose.
"If you don't have feelings for the man, then why are you so defensive?"
"I never said-" she groaned. "Well, it's like this: I don't get attached, because I'm still living a life of adventure. If I got attached, I'd want to settle down; and if I didn't, then something might happen to one of us. I respect him too much to let him be brought down, and I respect myself too much to let me be brought down."
"Sweetheart, I'm very attached to many people, and you don't see me letting it stop me. Fenris is in Tevinter at present, beating down magisters, and I'm here with you, free prey to raiders, sea monsters, foreign navies. As it is, I'm making this trip for a close friend. You can't let that promise of adventure stop you; if anything, go adventuring together- Maker knows Hawke did, and still does."
"When you put it like that, I sound like a child."
"In this world, you are. I am. Even Varric is. You just have to push past that childish part of you and take the dare."
Klyde looked at the pirate for a long moment. Every teacher she'd had in Ostwick would be spitting out their tea if they knew she'd just received some of the best advice she'd heard from a seafaring pirate who didn't wear pants. She smiled, both at the thought and at the woman. "Thanks, Isabela. I needed to hear that."
"I know; now, when are you coming back this way?"
The way she said it implied more than traveling, and Klyde laughed, shifting off of the rail. "Fenris doesn't mind your attempts to seduce anyone that moves?"
"No, he understands. He knows when he's around I'm his, but that I have to have a little adventure of my own, if you catch my drift."
Klyde grinned and shook her head slowly. "I've never met anyone like you."
"That's because there's no one quite like me to meet, sweetheart," the pirate assured her, and then walked off to man the ship once more. Klyde returned belowdecks, flipping through Swords and Shields and thinking about what Isabela had said. She decided that if she were to live life to the fullest, she'd have to take a chance now and then, and would no longer refuse the taunts about her and Bull. She sighed, thinking of the big man. But at a reminder that she likely wouldn't see him again even this year, she groaned mentally at herself; she was worse than a young maiden. It was awful. She would live as she always did, and if they crossed paths, then, well, things would go as things go.
A few hours later, the sun was almost at its peak and the wetlands of north Ferelden had come into view. A light rain misted down to the ship as they neared the shore on gray waves, causing a steady din of grumbling from the sailors.
"Bad luck," one muttered. Klyde noticed Meriam seemed to agree; the mage was watching the sky warily.
"Think it'll storm?" Meriam asked.
"Maker, I hope not," Isabela replied, "Not a port for another half-day of sailing."
Klyde looked over in surprise. "Then where are we to get off the ship?"
"We have rowboats and a map. There's a village not an hour in, small town along the highway; you can make it there by nightfall if you're careful."
Klyde just nodded. Not long after, Klyde, Brun, Meriam, and Varric climbed aboard the rowboat and were lowered to the sea. Between Brun and Klyde's arm work, they reached the shore in little time at all.
"And now we walk," Varric said, looking out across the wetlands. Brun nodded to a spot just to the east.
"There's a trail, looks to head most of the way inland."
"Onward, then," Klyde said, and started off. Meriam fell in step next to her, Varric just behind, and Brun taking the rear. The rain picked up to a drizzle, and most of the path turned to mud that squelched beneath their boots. Klyde glanced over her shoulder. "Sorry there couldn't be easier traveling. Ferelden's not always this muggy; just most of the time."
Varric chuckled, yanking his boot free from a deep bit of sand. "I can't say I've spent much time here, but one thing Hawke always talked about was the mud. She'd laugh to see me now."
Klyde smiled, remembering the one time she'd met the Champion. "I've only met her briefly, but she seemed the sort who would laugh at that. Do you know what part of Ferelden she was from? I'm a Marcher myself, but I've done my traveling."
"They traveled a lot; her sister was an apostate, you know how it is." Klyde nodded in agreement at that. "They were in Lothering after the Battle of Ostagar, and left there for Kirkwall."
"I've been to both- Lothering's a small village, wary of outsiders. The bar is nice, though; swears the Black Fox visited once, as most do. The field where the Battle of Ostagar happened still has a powerful aura; just being near it puts you in mourning. I've never felt anything like that wretched place."
"It's not far from the Korcari Wilds; did you visit those as well?"
Klyde laughed at the memory. "For a time. I lived off the land there; I was learning how to hunt, by method of trial and error. Beautiful landscape, I tell you- full of bears, bandits, and barbarians, but each of those will live and let live if you respect them. I did as much, and survived. Learned a lot about plants, too, but that was from some old lady who took me in when I fell ill with fever. She fixed me up, taught me plants, and sent me on my way without even giving me her name."
"That may have been Flemeth," Varric noted, sounding impressed. Klyde's eyebrows rose.
"The Flemeth? Witch of the Wilds and all that? Saved the Champion and the Hero?"
"Unless you know another Flemeth prone to saving the lives of others for her convenience and living as an old woman in a swamp, that would be the one."
"I never even considered it. If I happen across her again, I'll be sure to ask."
They reached the village some time later. Varric was considerably warmed up to Brun by then; he, too, had been wary at first, having seen firsthand what hospitality toward Qunari could lead to. Meriam was swooning over the dwarf now, and would likely set someone on fire if he asked. She said it was the chesthair.
Klyde paid for two rooms, offering herself as a personal guard, as each room had two beds. She put Brun and Meriam in one (the last thing she wanted was Meriam harassing Varric all night, and she didn't think he wanted to sleep in the same room as a Qunari). They ate in the tavern and checked the map, discussing what would happen the next day. They could reach Rainesfere by nightfall if they made time, and would part ways with Brun around midday if they left early. They returned to their rooms early that evening, and slept for an early start.
Morning found Klyde in a groggy mood, as if she'd slept wrong. She had a crick in her neck, and her eyes were sore as if she'd been near a fire. She yawned and dressed, pulling on her vest, jacket, boots, belt, and such in a state of discontent. She felt like a bear fresh out of hibernation, and burnt her tongue on the cream of wheat they had for breakfast in the tavern.
They left early, and once she was on the road, the sun helped Klyde rejuvenate. She set a brisk pace, feeling the blood flow through her legs and carry her onward in a peaceful familiarity. The walking reminded her of her days as a soldier, the long marches from village to village. Perhaps after she found somewhere for Meriam to go she'd sign back up for another campaign. The armies of the Free Marches didn't follow the same code as Ferelden's; she loved the muddy country for its army. She'd helped clean up the land of the last few darkspawn and helped rebuild villages that suffered from the blight. Not many countries send out soldiers for that kind of work.
The roads changed, shifting into a patchwork countryside of pinewood and open fields of wild, tall grass turned brown with autumn. The rain let up, and as noon approached the clouds retreated. A brisk wind followed with the usual Ferelden chill. Soon, the road lifted into the familiar structure of the Imperial Highway, strong granite stretching off with broken arches leading to a cracked roof. They reached the fork between the Highway and the Pass where Brun would leave them. Klyde turned to the Qunari, sad to see her go.
"I can't say if we'll see each other again; the odds of that are unlikely. However, I wish you well," Brun said as they stopped at the path. Klyde sighed.
"Can I at least know what you're doing in Orlais?"
Brun glanced behind her. "I'd like to tell you, but I can't. Now, that escort group should be here soon enough; farewell, Klyde."
Klyde frowned as Brun held out a hand for a formal shake, and instead pulled the big warrior into a barely-returned hug. Meriam gave an even more enthusiastic hug, and they parted ways, starting down opposite paths. Klyde watched the clouds pass over the sky, and found ways around when the highway was missing a chunk or had crumbled in areas. Sunset cast the land in gold, and they stopped a few times to rest, eat, or whatever was needed. Her legs ached; this was by far the furthest they had walked in a day yet. Her pace slowed, but when the lights of a village came into view, she picked up the pace. They would rest soon enough.
Rainesfere was a simple enough village, with a large tavern that didn't question them and contained a boisterous crowd. Klyde paid for a room and entered the dingy room. As Varric was her charge, she left him to the bed and gave Meriam the cot. She made a pallet for herself on the floor, and was soon asleep.
Morning came early for Klyde. It was barely light out, the dark blue clouds barely tinged to a shade paler, but she could sleep no longer. Wary of waking the others, she gathered her pallet, tying her cloak around her shoulders, and went downstairs with her pack. She still had the leather she'd gotten to make armor suitable for Ferelden, and started on that.
She had two tunics completed when the door to the tavern swung open. A hulking figure appeared in a cloak and pulled back the hood. Eyes alight, hair frazzled, and an injury bleeding through her tunic, Brun's reappearance shocked Klyde.