14 Solace

Oh Fergus, you would not believe it if I told you, but I will tell you anyways. We have found it, the Urn of Sacred Ashes. Yes, I am serious, we have truly found its resting place, and the guardian has given us a small amount of ashes with which to save Arl Eamon. I can hardly believe that we have succeeded, but I hold the evidence in my hand even as I write you this.

The path to the Ashes was anything but straightforward though. The town of Haven is…strange and twisted, in many ways. Was it worth the discovery of a holy artifact when the journey there was covered with the blood of villagers who were living the only life they have known? This seems to be a question I encounter often on this journey and the answer remains beyond me. What we did, we did to help Arl Eamon and to combat the Blight, but I compare our actions to that of Howe and...I do not like it.

But that was not the most difficult encounter on the way to the Ashes, not them or cultists or even dragons. I saw Father, Fergus, and it nearly broke my heart. You think I am mad, I am sure. It was not truly Father, I know, but a shade that assumed his likeness, though it made little difference. I was prepared to be condemned – I have condemned myself often enough. But he forgave me, released me from the guilt I have carried for so long, since that day in Highever. I could hear the pride and the love in his voice…Fergus, how can he love me still after all I have done and failed to do?

He gave me a pendant, and in it I sometimes catch a glimpse of him, and of Mother, loving and proud and all those things I remember about them. I see Oriana and Oren, Nan and Mother Mallol, and Ser Gilmore even, sometimes, but I do not see you. What does that mean? Should I take that as reason to hope that you live, or as confirmation of my worst fears, that my beloved brother finds fault that he cannot forgive in me? My thoughts swing from light to dark and back again.

And there are more reasons for me to wish for my elder brother back. I have told you of my fellow Grey Warden before, Alistair. And I have denied the possibility of anything between us, but oh Fergus. He gave me a present last night, a small thing, a rose that he picked in Lothering. It feels so long ago, but it is still beautiful. I have had suitors before, you know. Thomas Howe and Dairren Loren and other noblemen, and they have gifted me with far richer things even just as trinkets, but this is different somehow. He says that it reminds him of me, something "beautiful in a place of despair and ugliness" he said. He thinks of me as beautiful, calls me rare and wonderful and…Fergus, it stirs my heart in a way that I do not understand.

Even though you would tease me mercilessly, brother, I wish you were here so that I could ask you about love and courtship and what you thought of him. I think he is a good man, brave and loyal and strong and kind, and yet shy and silly and charming, all at once. I do not know where to go from here. Are Grey Wardens allowed to love? And yet who is to forbid us, alone as we are in this venture? Is it fair to take our minds away from the Blight for the sake of our feelings, if there are even real feelings there, or is it more imperative that we live in the now since there may not be a tomorrow?

It is not the flattery that confuses me so – Zevran is far more prolific and outrageous with his compliments and yet he does not stir such emotion. But I have not yet told you of my elven companion, the assassin, have I? It is a letter for another time, I think, though now I have given you cause for alarm again. Would it suffice to say that Alistair watches him suspiciously and would let no harm befall me at his hands? And see how my heart trembles yet again, that I might inspire such protectiveness in a man.

There are so many questions and so few answers. If ever I needed my big brother, it is now. If only I knew where to find you. Everything would be so much better if you were here, but I know wishes do little to change reality.

But for now, as always, you have all my love,

Your Amelia