Author's Note: Just a warning to my dear readers, I am and always have been a hopeless romantic and a lover of fluff. So you'll see a lot of fluff conversations and interactions in my stories. Don't forget to review! Already your questions and suggestions have altered the flow of the story, so keep it coming! ... otherwise I may just run out of creative oomph!
Supper passed filled with tales of the Warden and Ferelden as well as news on the clan: who bonded who, which couples have had kids, who's expecting, the kids she knew who were now full hunters. Ten years is a long time to be gone. The clan had grown so much and there were so many new faces. It saddened her to see that Pol had not made it. When last she'd spoken with him he'd barely become a part of the clan family and already he was gone. The Sabrae had endured so much.
Then there were so many questions regarding the dark veins on her jaw and what had happened to her ear. Many sat aghast that she had suffered so having barely left the clan. Had it not been for Wynne at Ostagar she may not have made it to the joining as she had become desperately ill with the darkspawn sickness. Incessant questions regarding her ear she carefully answered, telling them Loghain had tortured her before the landsmeet. At Ashalle's insistence she pulled off her gauntlets to allow them to see her hands then carefully removed the grey cotton shirt from beneath her Dalish leathers, revealing the multitude of scars that traveled the length and width of her shoulders, arms and back. Hawke had awakened by now and lay on his side, watching the story telling in interest. To say Hawke was shocked would be an understatement. Of course the ones on her abdomen were always visible, but her shirt covered quite a bit of traumatized looking skin. Most of these had happened at the hands of her captors and had never healed properly due to the time in between the torture and their escape.
The clan fawned over her, expressing their heartfelt sorrow at her suffering which she attempted to brush off. All this attention made her uncomfortable.
"But, dorf'falon," even though she was younger than some of the elders, Hahren Paivel felt it inappropriate to call her da'len considering the ten years of her absence had aged her far past what any of them would ever experience, "why have you altered your leathers so?" she glanced down at her now bare arms then back at him. "Changing for another set of armor would be perfectly understandable, but why have you modified your original hunters set? I still remember you crafting that chest piece over ten years ago," Elswyth gave a small smile, lost in pleasant memories for just a moment.
"Because Dalish is what I am… and Warden is what I am. There are NO Dalish in the lands of the humans. The elves that live there reside in squalor of their own choosing and have lost the way of the People. This means that my form of dress was very foreign and off putting for almost everyone I encountered. Especially with how much skin we are comfortable with showing. I was not willing to lose my identity just because I made people uncomfortable, so I chose to adapt," she picked up the grey cotton shirt she had set aside.
"I wear this under my leathers to cover me more decently to their standards. I am even capable of unrolling the bottom to cover my stomach if my appearance truly upset them," she illustrated by shaking the shirt out, revealing it was actually a full length shirt. Hawke soaked up all he could, watching her from his position across the fire still attempting to appear he was asleep. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel less comfortable if she thought he was awake and listening.
"But why?" Paivel pressed. "I don't understand why this would be so upsetting for them?" Elswyth gave him a strained smile.
"Human women are always covered almost completely unless they are wearing armor. To show an inordinate amount of skin usually meant you were a loose woman or a whore," the clan collectively gasped. Though their standards were different from that of humans, it was unthinkable to judge someone merely based on clothing alone. Though living in the shadow of Kirkwall had brought them close to shemlen, they never truly mingled with the citizens, preferring to remain apart. "Culture differences were quite a shock to me upon entering the wide world of humans," she said sarcastically, balling up her shirt into her fist.
"I showed up at Ostagar, wearing my traditional hunter's leathers, my vallaslin, my bow and my daggers and was stared at like I was a spirit from the beyond. It was unnerving," she chuckled a little, attempting to lighten the now oppressive mood. "But not all was bad. I met a lot of very good people in my travels and many people did show me respect. Just as they are foreign to us, I was like nothing they had ever seen before. Many people were actually afraid of me," she chuckled again and quite a few of the clan laughed at that. Elswyth had always been a silent and odd one to them, but to find her scary? Many of them smiled. To them she was just another child of the forest.
Finally the clan began to filter off to their respective aravels for the night and Elswyth was feeling less like a freak on display than before, but it was still discomfiting to have so much attention heaped upon her. Quietly Elswyth moved to Merrill's side and sat next to her, surprised by how exposed she felt without her cotton shirt, the fire playing shadows across her toned and scarred arms. She had grown accustomed to having them covered. Strange how time changed you.
"Conversation carefully avoided all mention of Marethari and your acting Keeper position. Tell me," the command was a soft one but it was unyielding and Merrill's eyes were already watering.
"It was all my fault. I'm sure Hawke told you some of what happened. She took in a demon to protect me. Why didn't she trust me?" her voice quivered and tears began to fall.
"Merrill… I had been planning on lecturing and regaling you with the horrors I've seen inflicted by good intentioned blood magic users and the pain brought by demons… but you've suffered that enough. However I need to know one thing… why the mirror? You saw what it did. How it destroyed our lives. Why?"
"I don't know," Merrill's voice faltered, filled with emotion, "I missed you both so much after you were gone. Perhaps to give reason to such senseless loss? We never found out what happened to Tamlen…"
"He found me. Much later," Elswyth's voice took on a deadpan tone and Merrill looked at her with wide, watery, horror-struck eyes. "He was dark, tainted and twisted, but he regained enough of his mind to say he was sorry and to beg me to end him," Elswyth's head dropped slightly, shadowing her face to hide the still raw pain at those memories. Killing him was the hardest thing she'd ever done. She omitted his admission of love before he died, that was for her alone.
"Oh, Els, I'm so sorry… you two-"
"What's past is past. I wish you had realized that sooner," she glanced at Merrill with sad eyes. "I wish I had realized… maybe helped you cope with it before I left…"
"No… I probably wouldn't have listened anyway," Merrill considered her. "Being the Warden Commander has changed you. You would barely speak two words when you were da'len unless Tamlen was around. There's so much more that's happened to you than what you've told us… dark, painful things…" Merrill's insight had grown over the years and Elswyth smiled ruefully.
"You'll make a wise Keeper yet, Merrill. A lot of things have changed me. You all have changed too," she pointed out.
"You should stay and be Keeper… like your father."
"No," Elswyth shook her head. "I've been from the People too long. You will regain their trust, give it time," she smiled at Merrill encouragingly. Elswyth looked up to see Reven finally sitting up across the fire and smiled.
"Sleeping Beauty is finally awake," he made a face at her nickname and grinned.
"I'll get him some food," Merrill offered rising. Balling her cotton shirt tighter in her hand, embarrassed that she hadn't had a chance to put it back on she made her way over to his side of the fire and sat beside him, her eyes narrowing in suspicion as she went, noting his state of alertness.
"Fine!" he blurted out at her unvoiced accusation, "I've actually been awake since about halfway through your storytelling. I just didn't want to get up yet," she shook her head at him with a small smile. Merrill came back then with his food and Varric followed, plopping down next to his friend.
"I have to admit, even the accurate versions of your story are impressive," the dwarf praised, considering her with glittering eyes.
"Lady Grey is quite awesome, huh?" Hawke asked in between mouthfuls.
"Lady Grey?" Varric asked and Elswyth rolled her eyes.
"Yea, hoofta! She should tell you that story sometime… talk about creepy," Hawke emphasized, waving his hand about as Zevran moved to the fire, followed by Broderick and the assassin looked at her questioningly.
"Ruck," Elswyth simply said.
"Oh, right," Zevran shuddered. "Those are days I would rather forget," Elswyth nodded empathically.
"We were sent from Orzammar into the deep roads to find someone… a paragon. It took us weeks just to track her down. While we were down there we ran into a dwarf who'd become lost and separated from his deeproads expedition team. To survive he'd sustained himself on darkspawn flesh," Elswyth shuddered and the group collectively mirrored her sentiment. "The taint has a way of binding like creatures together. He wasn't darkspawn yet, but he could hear the archdemon. His insight was unnerving," it had bothered her intensely what he'd said about her and the darkness he'd seen in her. The 'twilight' he'd called it. Elswyth had never hated any place more than the deeproads. So much rock above her was unnatural.
"I'll never understand normal dwarves," Varric shook his head, "I hate being underground," Elswyth agreed wholeheartedly.
"Speaking of a dwarf not being where he belongs, why are you here, Varric?" Hawke asked curiously.
"Miss Seeker finished her grueling session of interrogation and by that time I'd completely lost track of where you may have gone. So instead I decided to pay Daisy a leisurely visit," the look he shared with Merrill indicated there may be more to this portion of the story than either was willing to divulge at the moment.
Conversation continued pleasantly for some time until one by one they trailed off to bed. Absently, as Merrill rose to retire to her aravel, Hawke realized Elswyth had disappeared. She was here only moments before. Swiveling around he leaned forward and finally caught sight of her, just within the treeline. Her back was to him and she swept her curtain of hair aside, quickly stripping off her leather chestplate. A heated blush settled across Reven's cheeks at seeing her bare back but he couldn't look away as he watched her put her cotton shirt back on, carefully rolling it then strapping her armor back in place, adjusting her bracers and gauntlets over the sleeves. Maker… despite her scars she had an amazing body… he cleared his throat and forced those thoughts away for later, attempting to look natural when she finally appeared again and sat beside him.
"So, you don't want to stay and be Keeper for your clan?" he asked as a way of distracting her from any residual redness that might be in his cheeks and she shot an annoyed look at him that said he'd eavesdropped and he grinned back.
"No, I've been away too long. These aren't my people anymore. They will always love me and welcome me here, but I do not belong anymore," she gazed into the fire.
"That's kind of how I felt about returning to Lothering. There was as much for me there as there was in Kirkwall," they both fell silent, just watching the flames. "El, I was wondering, what is it they call you here?" her eyes slid a fraction more closed, leaving just a sliver to shimmer in the firelight.
"Dorf'falon, it literally means 'grey friend,' referring to the taint they feel inside me," he cocked his head at her oddly spoken explanation and she sighed. "Some of the hahren can feel shifts in nature. Marethari was especially talented at it. She could feel the taint in the land before Duncan's timely arrival to recruit me to the Grey Wardens. Unlike Ruck who felt a kinship with it, they can feel its destructive nature like a plague. That's part of what makes Grey Wardens so powerful against the Blight. We can feel or sense the darkspawn. Unfortunately it's a dual edged sword. They can feel us too and if we leave ourselves exposed it can mean our doom," they both fell silent, considering her words. As an explanation it had only raised more questions in him that he wasn't sure she would answer.
"How are your ribs?" she broke the stillness after quite a long pause.
"Fine," he pushed on them to emphasize. "Completely healed I think. Thank you," she nodded. "So are we still headed to Arlathan?" he clasped his hands around his knees and looked over at her as she nodded, still staring into the fire.
"It's not the safest place to travel with the Tevinter Imperium on one side and Antiva on the other, but I want to see it before I die," she said wistfully.
"Die? You're not even close to that, why-?"
"Being a Warden is a death sentence," she cut into his question earning a stunned expression from him and she sighed quietly. "From the time of the Joining you have about thirty years. That being the case I have twenty years left, give or take. Probably less since I was tainted before the joining," she shrugged. "It doesn't matter."
"I think it does, that's terrible," he looked at her in a whole new light. It was literally like having a terminal illness and just counting the days until you die. Granted she had slightly more time than that. "Wait, I thought the Joining saved you from the taint?"
"You should get some sleep," she interrupted this heavily depressing line of conversation, eager to draw their attention away from it and he let her drop it. "We probably won't leave for a day or so, but I'm sure they'll have questions for you since you 'slept' the whole night," she gave him a small teasing smile. Now more than ever he wanted to make her smile more often. He felt such a kinship with her as her life had been as difficult as his own. Now knowing she had a time limit just made it that much worse. Any of them could die at any time, but to feel a clock ticking down like that?
"Nah, they were nice enough to me before. And thanks to your little potion, not only do they think I'm completely unhinged, but I'm not tired at all," he grinned disarmingly down at her and she couldn't help smiling back.
"So… kitten people?" she asked, a small grin gracing her features and he groaned, collapsing onto his back with his hands covering his face.
"No chance we can pretend that never happened?" his words were muffled slightly by his hands and she chuckled.
"Nope," a stifled groan met her ears and she laughed a little more this time. "Do you really have the urge to pet my nose?" she asked him, her voice now laden with longsuffering tones. "Because that would be really weird and awkward should you give in to that desire," he could think of a few other desires he'd rather give in to, but he wasn't going to tell her that… yet. Abruptly he sat up, gazing down at the smaller woman, an evil grin spreading across his features.
"Oh really?" unbelievably she shrank away from him slightly, her large eyes wide and locked onto his face, trying to anticipate where he was taking this. "Maybe I'll start petting your nose just to irritate you," the threatening tone of his voice was ruined by the teasing glint of his light blue eyes.
"If you value your fingers where they are currently then you will not," her chin lifted defiantly but she couldn't stop her smile from curving the corners of her mouth. Abruptly he scooted closer to her and she leaned away, watching him warily.
"See, saying things like that just makes me want to do it more," fast as lightning his hand shot out and gripped the bridge of her nose, holding it gently between his thumb and forefinger as she attempted to jerk away, following the movement with his shoulder and body so as not to pinch too firmly and hurt her. Comically her eyes crossed slightly, focusing on his fingers before straightening out to his face with a glower.
"Are you trying to lose fingers?" her threat sounded as empty as it really was and he grinned down at her.
"At least I didn't lean my chin on your head while you were hugging my bare chest," he chose that moment to stop pinching and run his thumb down the bridge of her nose before letting her go. Bingo. Bright red blush that went straight up her ears.
"I was not hugging you!" the small elf sputtered slightly and he highly enjoyed watching her blush travel down her neck and disappear into her shirt. "Fine! Next time I'll leave you with broken ribs so you can huff along behind Broderick, you scruffy, ungrateful oaf!"
"Hey, hey, I'm not scruffy," he scratched the rough, far beyond five o'clock shadow hair that coated his angular chin and cheeks. "Ok maybe just a little," he gave her a pleased, roguish grin and she huffed, crossing her arms.
They relaxed for the next day, enjoying the reprieve from travel. Zevran hovered around Master Ilen, learning how to craft elven bows and Broderick pestered Paivel about Dalish lore. Merrill caught up with Elswyth as she returned from hunting with the other hunters. They had all been astounded by her accuracy and skill with a bow, many of them asking in awed tones what she had done to alter her weapon. It dawned on her that even among her own people she was an oddity. Modified armor, her tainted face, enchanted bow and daggers. Despite her insistence otherwise, people around her really did see her as a legend. She had become accustomed to magically enhanced weapons and armor and their awe at such things was understandable. With a kind smile she handed off her kills to a younger hunter, one she had last seen as only a small child, the wonder in his eyes was unmistakable, before moving with Merrill to the side of the clan camp.
"So… Hawke? How did that happen? All I knew was that he'd just disappeared in the night. No one knew where he'd gone," Merrill glanced at her childhood friend.
"Would you believe I tripped over him? Literally?" Merrill laughed quietly at the thought.
"That sounds so like the both of you. Leave it to the two most influential people in all of Thedas to randomly run into one another," the mage chuckled.
"Not the most influential," Elswyth protested. "Merrill," she said, becoming serious, "you traveled with him for a few years. Is he really as face value as he seems?" Elswyth studied her friend as she considered the question.
"Hawke can be… both complicated and simple at the same time, but I think most people are. Sometimes it was difficult to tell his true feelings under the jokes, but he was always honest. Sometimes too honest," she shook her head with a smile. "That was one thing about Hawke, he's always sarcastic, but he put every one of us first. It was hard to get close to him because he uses his humor and sarcasm as a wall. Then the one person he let close betrayed him… several times," Elswyth watched her curiously.
"This Isabella I've heard about?" she asked and Merrill nodded.
"Isabella was beautiful and worldly, everything most men dream of… except stability. She said she didn't want to be tied down, but repeatedly kept leading him on, giving him hope. She even invited him to sail with her, then one day she disappeared, came back to return something then disappeared again." Elswyth was pretty sure she'd met this woman. Truly how many promiscuous Isabella captains specializing in dueling could there be?
"After that, Hawke closed himself off again to everyone but Varric. He seems much happier now though, genuinely happy, not that fake happy he showed everyone. Probably because he's no longer in Kirkwall. I know that makes me happy," Merrill grinned at her friend. "Hawke's life seems to have been one tragedy after another. It was cruel of Isabella to do that to him, but then I guess it was to be expected," Merrill looked away, indicating to Elswyth that Hawke was not the only one hurt by her disappearance.
"Fleeing Lothering and losing his brother during their flight, having his sister dragged away by the templars… but the death of his mother hit him especially hard."
"He mentioned something about a crazy necromantic blood mage?" Elswyth raised an eyebrow and Merrill shivered.
"He was making light of things again. That was truly a horrible experience even for me… and she wasn't my mother," Merrill looked away in distress and Elswyth's eyebrows rose in concern. "There was a string of kidnappings over about a three year period in Kirkwall. Random older noble women with no strong connections to society began disappearing every few months or so. Hawke's mother, Leandra was the last to go missing. Finally we tracked him down, but by then it was too late. The necromancer's late wife had an uncanny resemblance to Leandra…"
"Oh, no…" Elswyth could see where this was going.
"The man… pieced her… back together using… parts… that resembled his dead wife. He used the hands from one of the women we'd tried to track down…" Merrill swallowed hard, remembering how his poor mother had tried shuffling in a body that was not her own toward her son. "With the mage dead the magic keeping her alive was broken," Merrill rubbed her face. "Oh it was awful… Hawke didn't leave his estate for a week after that. Then he just reappeared one day, acting as if nothing had happened and business continued as usual. When anyone tried to talk about it he would laugh or tell some joke and avoid the subject," Merrill looked up at her friend with soulful eyes.
"Not long after that was when Isabella disappeared. That too he shrugged off, trying to pass it off as some fling, and though we knew better he wouldn't let any of us comfort him. He'd always turn it around on us in some manner and end up helping us with some problem or another. We kept expecting him to someday just crack right down the middle, but it never happened. He just kept on being the same sarcastic, nice guy we all knew him to be.
"Isabella lied to him from the very moment he met her, and even right before her disappearance she only told him the truth because it would save her life. That and Hawke was about to find out anyway. Then she took what she needed and disappeared, leaving Hawke… what's that human phrase? Holding the bag?" Merrill shook her head. "How many years did I live with humans and I still never got the hang of their idiosyncrasies. Anyway, it was cruel of her to leave him like that."
"Well, it's good to know he's not always a pain in the ass," Elswyth said loudly, looking over her shoulder at the rogue pointedly as he approached them.
"Oh, no! Not all the time anyways. He even gave me a little wooden halla-" Elswyth stopped her friend's ramblings by pointing behind them. Merrill blushed. "By the dread wolf! I always put my foot in my mouth at the worst times!"
"Meaning there's a good time to put your foot in your mouth?" Hawke chuckled as he finally drew alongside them.
"If it means silencing you, then yes," Elswyth crossed her arms as she looked up at him. Hawke placed his hand over his heart with an exaggerated expression of grief.
"Oh, Lady Grey you wound me."
"Oh, Hawke, she was just kidding-" his grin stopped her mid-sentence, "-and you were too. Creators! I can't get the hang of this sarcasm thing!" Elswyth and Hawke laughed.