Okay, so once again I missed my mental deadline that I set myself but once again I've been distracted lol. There was also a lot more in the chapter that I first thought – I was tempted to split it into two, but I couldn't find a nice enough break. I hope you don't mind long chapters :3
Chapter Nine: Denerim
The carriage bumped on another hole in the road and Elissa winced as she was jostled in her seat. Opposite her, Leliana giggled and Teagan stifled his own chuckle with a discreet cough.
"Oh Elissa your face was an absolute picture," Leliana said with another laugh. "I take it you're not used to riding in a carriage?"
"No," Elissa replied, a tad grumpily. Fergus sighed.
"I'm not a fan either," Fergus admitted, "but we haven't got enough horses in the yard for ourselves and the guards, so we're stuck with it until I've got enough surplus to go horse shopping."
"I know, I know," Elissa said. "That doesn't mean I have to keep a straight face when we run over a bump though." As if on cue, the carriage rocked again and Elissa pulled another face.
"You know, it would probably be a lot more comfortable for you if you hadn't insisted on wearing armour for the journey," Fergus added. Elissa shrugged.
"Perhaps."
"You're not going to wear armour all the way around Denerim are you?"
"Depends what kind of reception I get."
"Maker's breath," Fergus said, running a hand over his face. "What's the point in having guards if you're going to jump at the bandits yourself?"
"You never know what will happen," Elissa said matter-of-factly. Fergus sighed again and Elissa rolled her eyes. "Look, if we get to Denerim without incident then I give you permission to say 'I told you so'."
Teagan rescued her from more admonishments by distracting Fergus with some information on some minor bann or another. Elissa phased out the conversation around her (Leliana had jumped in with some snippet of gossip) and leant forward to rest her elbows on her knees. She regulated her breathing and tried to relax with the movement of the carriage to prevent her being tossed about too much. She was glad she had a light breakfast – anymore and she reckoned her stomach would be complaining a lot more than it was.
Her light meditations were rudely interrupted when a burning itch trailed under her skin, her blood singing in warning. Her head snapped up and she spun in her seat, flicking the catch on the case in the rack above her head and pulling out her swords.
"Andraste's ass, Elissa, what are you doing?" Fergus said irritably after dodging a metal clad elbow.
"Darkspawn," she said mechanically, strapping her blades to her back and tucking some knives into her boots. "About half a mile or so away and getting closer. No more than a dozen, but they know I'm here. Stay in the carriage. I'll meet up with you later."
Elissa reached for the door handle and looked at Leliana. "My bow is in the case," she said to her, "they should follow me, but keep an eye out for any stragglers."
Leliana nodded once. "Understood."
"What?" Fergus repeated as Elissa hopped out of the moving carriage. "Elissa!" he shouted out of the open door.
Leliana firmly pushed Fergus back into his seat and reached over to shut the door. She retrieved Elissa's bow and quiver from the case (the ancient Dalish-made bow was slightly heavier than her own, but she hopefully wouldn't need to use it for a long period of time) and set back into her seat, pulling open the door's window and keeping a watchful eye on the road.
"Leliana!" Fergus said. "Why did you let her go?"
Leliana smiled. "A mere dozen fiends against Elissa? The darkspawn won't know what's hit them."
x.x.x
On the road, Elissa relished the feel of the soft earth beneath her feet as she ran. She hoped she wasn't getting too overconfident (neither Madoc nor Darrian were with her after all) but she felt the darkspawn change their course away from the road.
They are following me then, she thought with a relieved sigh. She slowed to a walk then stopped in the field, letting the darkspawn catch up to her. The taint was singing in her veins but still she waited, the oppressive presence closing in from all sides, the hairs standing up on the back of her neck.
Elissa sniffed the air and readied herself, gripping her blades tightly in her hands. Shrieks. Eight of them. Odd that they are travelling in a group so large on the surface. No matter, she thought, ducking under a bladed forearm as they emerged from the shadows to attack, they'll die all the same.
Elissa reversed her grip on one of her swords to gut one of her assailants from behind, her off hand blade swinging forward to slice the throat of the first attacker. She ducked under the slicing blades of two of the others, retrieving her stuck sword from the shriek behind her.
Now with all her enemies in an arc in front of her (for the moment, at least) Elissa swept out and in with both her blades, killing one more and wounding the others. Three down, five to go.
Five was more manageable – a more common number for the scouting assassins. Her splintmail managed to deflect any of the slashing blades that she missed, and she avoided being overwhelmed (the last time that happened left half a dozen slashing scars on her torso that Wynne hadn't been able to fully remove – the dark of the Deep Roads was taking its toll on everyone by that point).
With the party of darkspawn dead, Elissa wiped her blades clean on some nearby grass (which shrivelled due to the burn of the taint) and sheathed them on her back. She had by some miracle managed to keep most of the blood from her person, with only a few splashes of it across the front of her armour and over her gauntlets. She made her way back to the road and followed it eastwards, the road bearing grooves in the dust from the wheels of a carriage.
It was a fair few miles later when she smelt the smoke of a camp fire. Dusk was settling in on the horizon, so she went on a guess (assuming the guard captain had picked a secure place off the road to camp) and, hoping it wasn't a nest of bandits, wound her way through the trees.
It was no bandit camp – tents were set up in a wide circle, and guards bearing the Cousland shield were stationed at the glade perimeter while the others finshed setting tents or readying food. They were not particularly vigilant, however, and any rogue would have been able to slip past easily, let alone a skilled one. Elissa frowned to herself. She fully accepted she was less trusting than her brother and was (potentially) a tad paranoid – nevertheless, immunity from the Crows or no, Elissa didn't like her brother having to rely on daydreaming men.
She walked calmly and quietly (not even properly sneaking) behind one of the perimeter guards and leant forward to speak into his ear. "Boo," she said simply.
The unsuspecting man jumped out of his skin with a shout and fell head over heels into a pile of chainmail and shield. Elissa stood over him with her hands on her hips, waiting patiently as the alarm was sounding and more guards (eventually) reacted to the commotion.
"Captain Rossberg," Elissa called as the guard captain came flying out of one of the tents, dressed in his chainmail leggings and undershirt. "Which of your men have you got on first watch for the night?"
"Myself and Frasier," he said, eyes darting to the young man scrambling off the floor. Elissa surmised that the boy she just scared was the guard in question.
"Take yourself off the watch detail, Captain," Elissa said tersely. "We will need you fresh in the morning. I will join Frasier for the first watch in your stead."
Rossberg frowned. "My lady, I assure you that won't be necessary..."
"No arguments, Rossberg," Elissa said, walking past the guards. "I am more than capable, as you are no doubt aware. You'll thank me in the morning when you've had a full nights rest."
"Ah – yes, Lady Cousland," he said, turning about and hollering at the gathered guards to get back to work.
"Elissa!" Fergus shouted, emerging from his tent. "By Andraste's knickers, where have you been?"
Elissa walked past her brother to the tent, pulling off her gauntlets as she did so. She shucked off her blood splashed cuirass and dropped it onto the floor outside the tent along with her gloves before turning back to Fergus, now taint-free – or so she thought.
"Elissa," Fergus said with a frustrated sigh. "Would you please answer my... Is that blood on your face?"
"Hmm?" Elissa reached up and wiped her cheek and looked at the smear of foul red on her fingertips. "Oh, it's not mine. I thought I managed to keep most of it off me this time as well. Oh well – I'll get a bucket of water in a second and wash off."
"Then it's darkspawn blood? Elissa, get it off your face now!" He beckoned to a guard and asked him to fetch a bucket of water. "As quick as you can!" he added as the guard hurried off.
"Fergus, really," Elissa said, rubbing at the patch of blood. "I know what I'm dealing with. I've probably swallowed a lot more during the Blight." Fergus paled and Elissa inwardly grimaced. Wrong thing to say... well done Elissa.
"Fergus," she said again, a bit more soothingly this time. The guard returned with a bucket of water and Elissa retrieved a washcloth from her pack in the tent, talking to her brother while she diligently washed her face. "There's no need to fuss. I am fully aware of the dangers of darkspawn blood and disease, but I am a Grey Warden. We're immune to it."
Fergus gave a disbelieving grunt. "Well, you'd have thought they'd share their magic secret with the rest of us. Immunize the masses – why the big secret?"
Elissa met Fergus' eyes squarely. "We pay a hefty price to become what we are," she said, remembering Duncan saying something not to dissimilar to her some other lifetime ago. "It's not something that I would want to inflict on the masses."
Fergus' frown deepened. "What price?"
"I can't tell you."
"Can't? Or won't?"
"Both," she admitted, wringing out the washcloth and tossing it aside. It'd be useless for washing now but she could use it as a rag to clean her mail before she threw it away. "Fergus. Don't ask me anymore. Please. One day..." she said with a sigh and a small, sad smile, "one day I will tell you. Until then, don't worry yourself about it."
Fergus opened his mouth to argue with her but decided against it. "Would father have asked you to Join if he knew?"
"There's no way he could have known. They are well kept secrets after all."
"But if he knew," Fergus said.
"But he didn't, so there's no need to even consider it." Elissa shrugged. "What is done is done. There's is nothing you or I can do to change it now."
Fergus tried a different question. "How did you know where the darkspawn were? And how many?"
"Grey Wardens can sense the darkspawn," she said simply, piling her armour and cleaning kit next to the log by the fire before sitting down with a rag.
Fergus looked at her expectantly, but when no further explanation was forthcoming his waved his hands in frustration. "And?"
"And what? That's it. We can sense them... and they can sense us."
"What?"
"Why do you think I hopped out of the carriage and ran off?" Elissa said, her arm moving in practiced circled over her dirty armour. "It wasn't just to fight to keep you safe – it was to draw them away." Elissa paused and looked off into the trees. "They're following the Wardens... and I don't know why."
Fergus crouched down so he was at eye level with Elissa. He hugged her from his bended knees, his arms going about her shoulders and his face into her neck. "We'll talk about this more when we get to Denerim," he said, pulling away. "I'm going to bed, " he added with a sigh.
"See you in the morning," Elissa said with a little wave as Fergus walked to his tent. "Dream well," she added.
"And you." The tent flapped close behind him and Elissa continued with her work.
Sometime later the bustle about camp died down, the guards going to their tents. The young guard on watch detail with Elissa hovered nervously near the fire just in the corner of Elissa's peripheral vision.
"Maker's breath, man," she said with a laugh after a while. "Would you sit down? I'm not going to eat you!"
"Y-y-yes my lady," the boy stammered, setting down on the log opposite Elissa. Elissa checked her armour over for any more splashes of blood and, deeming it satisfactory, set it aside. She looked over to the young guard who was avoiding her eye contact, looking around nervously at the surrounding trees.
Elissa shook her head and laughed to herself softly. "I'm not here to intimidate you," she said gently but firmly. "I don't need much sleep nowadays and I do truly believe the captain needs as much as he can for the morning. But I also wanted to talk to you."
"T-talk, my lady?"
Elissa resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "What's your name, where are you from and why have you joined the castle guard?"
"Ah... well..." the young man hesitated. "I'm Elton Frasier, I was born and raised in Highever – father is a fisherman, mother a stall merchant. They run a business together on the docks."
"Ah, I thought the name Frasier was familiar," Elissa admitted. "Though, if you don't mind me asking, why life as a guard? Surely you'd be helping with the family business and the fleet?"
"My four siblings are doing just that," Elton admitted. "But I..."
"Yes?" Elissa prompted.
"Igetseasick," Elton admitted in a embarrassed rush, his cheeks flushing. "And I don't have a head for business, so me mam says."
"So you decided to go for a guard position when my brother was looking?"
"Yes, my lady."
Elissa raised an eyebrow sceptically and Elton sighed. "My sister's fiancé suggested I go to the recruitment office with him," he amended. "But I've settled into it well enough, and the teyrn is good to us soldiers."
"Captain Rossberg obviously saw something in you to bring you along to Denerim."
"I hope so, my lady."
"He didn't seem very impressed that I caught you unawares, mind."
"Ah... no my lady," Frasier said, bowing his head in shame.
"Elton," Elissa said gently, and the young man looked up. "I'm not going to lie to you. Had I been any kind of skilled enemy, it is very likely you would be dead by now. And who knows, had the enemy been particularly skilled and slipped by your comrades too, my brother may have been dead too." Elton went pale and looked horrified at the suggestions Elissa was making, so she pressed her point across.
"I'm not going to berate you or punish you," she said. "We all make mistakes, and this time no one was hurt. However, I will say that my brother places a lot of faith in his guards – a lot more, if you don't mind me saying, than I would. Not because I doubt your skill," she added hastily with a smile, "but just because I'm a paranoid warrior who is used to having to watch out for herself.
"In short, my brother trusts you, but I want you to really work for it. Your obviously talented, and have a lot of potential – make him proud, and let me sleep a little easier knowing he's under the watchful guard of someone I can trust too."
Frasier nodded earnestly, and sat a little straighter, emboldened by Elissa's talk (and relieved that he was not about to get a tongue-lashing from Lady Cousland). Elissa glanced at hourglass at the fire's edge and saw that it had nearly run out.
"Go wake the second watch," she said, standing up and stretching, "then get some rest. I'll see you in the morning Frasier."
x.x.x
Zevran raised an eyebrow at Darrian who was toying with a carved wooden circlet on his index finger while standing at the gates to the Alienage, looking at the bridge over the river. He was ramrod straight and utterly still save for his left leg which was dancing slightly, the boot scuffing the road dirt.
"Nervous?"
"What?" Darrian said quickly. "Do I look it?"
"You're a little on edge, that's for certain," Zevran said. "And after all my work massaging you last night... tsk, I'm going to have to do it all over again with the knots you manage to wind yourself into."
Darrian smirked slightly, grateful for the attempt at a distraction. "I'm sorry Zev. I'll make it up to you, I promise."
"I look forward to it," he replied with a smirk.
The pair lapsed into silence again, Darrian still fiddling with the ring and visibly hesitating.
"Maybe this isn't a good idea," he said.
"And why not?"
"If they think I'm dead, surely it's better this way? I mean," Darrian turned away from the gates to look at Zevran, "Shianni's going to kill me anyway, and it's not like being a Grey Warden is a safe career choice and... Maker's breath, my father's going to be so disappointed... but then there was nothing new there since I never was really going to commit to a family and a perfect Alienage lifest-,"
"Darrian!" Zevran cut in. "You're babbling. Calm down. I'm not expert on family matters but if your cousin's reaction in Highever is indicative of your family's mindset I don't think you've got anything to worry about."
Darrian ran a hand over his face and took a few deep breaths. "Right," he said decisively to himself, turning on his heel and striding purposefully across the bridge. He stopped again at the Alienage entrance. Children were playing in the newly cobbled streets and it was cleaner than he remembered. The drains had been fixed and extended so filthy water was taken to the river and not just left to pool in the street. The arrangement of the houses seemed the same, still cramped and close quartered, but they were less ramshackle and shabby.
"They've been busy," Zevran commented at Darrian's shoulder. "The last time I was here only the drains had been repaired.
The Alienage itself was quite quiet – it was midmorning of the first day of the week: dockworkers would be bringing in the trade of the newly arriving ships, servants would be shopping for their masters and wives would be at the markets shopping for the home. There were children running the street – until a bell from a nearby building was sounded. They scuttled back into the new school hall, some laughing, some grumbling, and Darrian smiled.
"That wasn't here when I was growing up," he commented as he walked up to the vhenadahl and rested a hand on it. "We had classes in the hahren's front room – or under here if the weather was nice. I remember climbing to the top of here too," he added fondly, looking up at the gnarled branches. "I got in so much trouble with Valendrian – and my mother made a show of being disappointed, but when we got home she was laughing. She said that trees were meant to be appreciated like that, and the best viewpoints for hunting would be from the top of such a tree."
"So she encouraged you?"
"Not exactly," Darrian said with a grin. "But she didn't actively discourage it either."
"Maker's blood."
Darrian and Zevran turned at the surprised exclamation and there was a crash as the third elf, a man with vivid ginger hair, dropped a box of poultices and salves. From the sounds of things they were just rattled, the box having padded carefully, but Zevran would wager at least half a dozen of the small flasks would have cracked if not broken completed.
"Darrian," the box carrier said. "Maker's breath, Darrian."
"Alarith," Darrian said with a broad smile. Alarith stepped over his box of wares and closed the distance between the two elves in three long strides, embracing Darrian when he got there. Darrian hugged him back tightly and hid his face in Alarith's shoulder. Though they were sheltered by the vhenadahl, he wasn't about to disgrace himself with tears in the open like this.
"By Andraste's flaming britches," Alarith swore again, stepping back to look Darrian over keeping one hand on Darrian's shoulder as if to assure himself he was real. "We thought you were dead! Where have you been? What happened?"
Darrian ran a hand through his hair nervously. "I turned myself in after that Vaughan fiasco..."
"I know that part," Alarith said, a little impatiently.
"...but they didn't kill me. They sold me to slavers." Alarith swore again.
"How'd you get out?"
"With a little help from a Grey Warden," Darrian said with a smile.
"Huh, they seem to be alright those Grey Wardens. We had one help us when some slavers came to town."
"It was the same one."
"What?"
"Elissa? Hero of Ferelden? She sprung me – all of us, actually, Tobias, Elodie and the rest – from our cages in Minrathous. And yeah, she's alright," Darrian said with a grin.
"You were with Tobias?" Alarith asked. "Why didn't he say anything?"
"I don't know – I'm sure they'd have had their reasons," Darrian said with a shrug. "They were probably too busy getting on with their lives – and I don't blame them."
Zevran watched the two elves chatter in the shade of the tree and was getting a little intrigued. Their familiarity and easy closeness went beyond normal friendship. He made a mental note to ask Darrian about the merchant later.
"So what are you doing now?" Alarith said, "Are you going to stay?"
"No – I'm a Grey Warden now," Darrian admitted sheepishly. "I'll be off wherever Elissa goes next – she sent me to Denerim ahead of her to sort out family things."
"Well you won't find Soris here," Alarith started. "He married a shem of all things and moved to Highever."
"I know," Darrian said. "I bumped into him while I was there. He's doing well. But never mind about Soris, how are you doing?"
"Well, Shianni managed to wrangle me a full merchant's license – no more under the table goods for me now, all legitimate now." Alarith flushed slightly and hesitated. "I got married again," he said quietly.
"Oh-o?" Darrian said with a grin, hip-checking Alarith playfully. "Who's the lucky lady? She must be something special for you to remarry – especially after Nimriel."
"Nimriel was special, it's true."
"And she wouldn't have wanted you to be a lonely widower forever," Darrian teased.
"I wasn't lonely," Alarith said quietly, "and you know that."
Zevran resisted the urge to raise an eyebrow at Darrian over Alarith's shoulder. Definitely asking him about that later.
"Well, still," Darrian said, "what's she like? Do I get to meet her?"
"You already have," Alarith said. "She's a lovely lady and got a sharp business mind with some great ideas – and we had one thing in particular in common."
Darrian racked his brains and tried to piece it together and failed. "Nah. Can't think. I've not been here for three years after all."
"Nesiara, you fool," Alarith said with a laugh. "After were gone – well, not gone, but you know, we thought you were – she was so upset. Her parents tried to get her to go back to Highever, but she insisted on staying in Denerim – she gets on really well with your father and Shianni."
"That's fantastic news!" Darrian said with a relieved laugh. "Maker, I was so worried – I'd have been a bloody awful husband, I know, so I'm glad she's got someone who'll treat her right."
"You'll have to come and visit us once you're free," Alarith said. "She'll be so glad to see you – and you'll get to meet our son as well."
"Maker's breath," Darrian said with another laugh. "Look at you, well and truly settled down! What's his name? How old is he?"
"He'll be two years old in the autumn. And, well... he's called Darrian. Nesiara's idea, but of course I agreed with her. Couldn't think of a better name for him."
Darrian took a step back and leant against the tree. "You... but... Alarith," Darrian said, running his hand nervously through his hair. "I don't know what to say."
"You don't need to say anything, old friend," Alarith said, reaching forward to rest his hand against Darrian's cheek. "You deserved honouring, so we did so." Alarith withdrew his touch reluctantly and turned back to retrieve his dropped box. "Pop around this evening sometime. We'll crack a bottle open for old time's sake."
"I will," Darrian said with a smile as Alarith walked towards his shop. "Give Nesiara my best."
"I'll have to persuade her I haven't got mad, first," Alarith said with a laugh. "If you haven't seen Valendrian yet, you better grab him quick before Shianni comes back from the palace infuriated over something or other."
Darrian was still leaning against the tree in mild shock as the door clicked shut behind Alarith. Zevran had to laugh at little at his expression. "Well, your return was well received there," he commented.
"Yeah," Darrian said with a smile.
"He married your betrothed?"
"Looks like it," the Ferelden replied with a laugh. "I'm glad. Nesiara's a lovely lady and deserves someone like Alarith. His first wife, Nimriel, died of one of the plague's that rips through here every year or so. Alarith was devastated, threw himself into the store and... other lucrative activities," Darrian added, clearing his throat.
Zevran stepped closer to listen to what Darrian was saying under his breath. "He was one of my fences for a while – he gave it all up when he married Nim, to settle down properly, and I've no doubt he's done the same now for Nesiara, but those years in between... I was young," Darrian said with a shrug. "Foolish. Looking for a bit of adventure, you know?"
"A thief?"
"And a damned good one," Darrian said with a grin. "The nobles had a name for me and everything. But – Andraste's tits – I can't believe they named their son after me. Me!"
"If you don't mind me saying so," Zevran ventured, "you seemed a lot closer than two friends who have dabbled in crime."
"Ah. Yes, well." Darrian flushed and scratched the back of his head. "Alarith may have been the first to show me that my door swings both ways. So to speak."
Zevran chuckled. "No need to look so sheepish, Warden. I had already guessed, I just wanted to confirm it. Now... perhaps a visit to your Alienage elder is in order? I believe your friend mentioned Shianni would go there from her meetings at the palace – two birds with one stone, so to speak."
Darrian nodded and led the way to Valendrian's house – or at least where he remembered Valendrian's house used to be. He knocked on the door, and heard the old elf call his permission to enter from inside. He opened the door hesitantly and stepped inside, Zevran close behind. The assassin shut the door behind them both as Darrian padded softly into the room.
Valendrian was hunched over his desk, glasses perched on the end of his nose as he read through a pile of papers. "Is there something I can do for you?" he asked without looking up. "Only, I've just had the latest list of matches from Highever which I really need to-,"
"Hello, hahren," Darrian cut in smoothly.
Valendrian stopped for a moment before setting his quill back into its stand. He looked up from his desk and let out a long breath. "Well, I'll be damned," he said as he stood up. "Darrian Tabris. Welcome home."
The two elves gripped each other's forearms in welcome and Darrian smiled. "Not too surprised to see me then?"
"Viv did tell me that you were with them in Minrathous," Valendrian said, taking off his glasses and setting them on the table. "And how you went off with the Grey Warden. Given the whole uncertainty of the situation and the rumours that the Warden Joining can kill, we decided not to tell your family – they were just getting over your supposed death at the hands of the Denerim guards. I thought it best not to get their hopes up if you were to die elsewhere. Forgive me for not having faith in you – I should have known you would pull through."
"I trust your judgement, hahren," Darrian said. "And you made the right call. Unfortunately the joining is more luck a game of chance than a test of skill – I just got lucky."
Voices outside the door interrupted their conversation. "Nobles! I hate nobles. They're so infuriating. Saying one thing when meaning another – it's all bullshit!"
"Shianni," came a calmer male voice. "Unfortunately that is politics. It's difficult, but this way we can get our people's needs heard."
"Yeah, and one day they might actually listen instead of pretending to. Honestly they must think we're all stupid." On "stupid" the door burst open and Shianni rushed inside, Cyrion at her heels.
"Hahren," Shianni started, "I'll need all the ledgers for the repairs we've done on the southern wall. The guards broke it so I'm bloody well going to make the guards... I don't believe it."
Zevran stepped backwards out of the way as Shianni barrelled forward, pulling Darrian into her arms and holding tightly. Darrian returned the embrace gently and kissed the crown of Shianni's head.
"You... you... they say you died!"
"Maybe I did and this is all a dream," Darrian started to joke, but then Shianni whacked his arm. Hard. "Ow! You know you're supposed to pinch yourself in dreamlike situations?"
"Hitting you is much more convincing," she said dryly. To prove her point she did it again around his head.
"Ow!"
Cyrion approached his son and his niece slowly. His face was pale, his hands were shaking and his features were contorted into a form of grimace, half pain and half disbelief, his lips twitching as he attempted to hold his composure.
"Son?" he said hoarsely. "Is that really you? When they said they killed you... I didn't want to believe it."
Darrian disentangled himself from Shianni's arms to gently embrace his father, burying his face in the crook of the older man's neck. His shoulders shook slightly and for a moment he wished Zevran wasn't there – crying would be a lot easier without fear of embarrassment.
"My son," Cyrion whispered in disbelief. "Oh, my boy. What are you doing here?" he said, stepping backwards to look up at his only child. "If the guards recognise and find you they'll -,"
"Be confronted with this document from his superior officer," Zevran interjected smoothly, holding brandishing a sealed parchment letter Elissa gave him before they left 'in case of any trouble.' "The Hero of Ferelden will not take kindly to any abuse of her second."
"Hero of Ferelden...?" Cyrion repeated. "You're... a Grey Warden?"
Shianni looked at Darrian, impressed. "Go you cousin! Guess that explains why you're walking around armed to the teeth without any repercussions."
"Repercussions?" Darrian repeated with a grin, turning to his cousin. "Hark at you, Bann Shianni, user of big words and politician extrodinnaire!"
"Oh... shut up," Shianni said, hitting her cousin's arm again as Darrian started laughing.
Valendrian stepped past the reunited family to shut his door. "Tea?" he asked no one in particular.
"Something stronger," Shianni said, reaching into the pack on her shoulder. "There are some benefits to these noble meetings after all," she said, producing a bottle of brandy. "I didn't steal it! It was a gift," she added defensively at seeing the disapproving look on Valendrian's face.
"That wasn't what I was inferring," Valendrian said, "it's not even midday yet."
"It's midday in Arlathan," Shianni said stubbornly, using the excuse many elves used for drinking at this time of day. Darrian started laughing again, feeling like he was walking on air. He went over to Zevran and gently brushed the Antivan's shoulder while his family weren't looking. "Thank you," he said quietly.
"For what?"
"Getting me through that gate," Darrian said, "and being here when I know you have more important things to do." Darrian's hand trailed down the outside of Zevran's arm and to his hand, where Darrian lightly and briefly brushed his fingertips against Zevran's. "I'll definitely make it up to you later. I promise."
x.x.x
Some days later in Denerim, Elissa was trying to wrest her sword from her brother's hands.
"No weapons?" she said disbelievingly. "What do you mean no weapons? It's a Landsmeet!"
Fergus rolled his eyes. "Precisely. It's a Landsmeet. Anora was adamant that words be the only weapons in a Landsmeet, in the interests of fairness and cultural progression."
Elissa huffed. "I don't like being without one. Who knows what will happen?"
The Teyrn sighed and lifted Starfang from his sister's hands to set it back on its stand. "You share the sentiments of every warrior and fighter in the nobility, Elissa. But rules are rules."
"I don't even know why I'm going," Elissa grumbled.
"You're going because I need you there." Fergus made sure Starfang was secure and turned to hug his sister. "Please? Just this once. If you're bored out of your brain then I'll not ask again."
"Promise?"
"I promise." Fergus kissed Elissa's forehead and turned to leave the room. "Now, get out of that armour and find yourself something less imposing to wear. No buts!" he added with a laugh as Elissa started to protest.
"Ass!" Elissa shouted as Fergus shut the door behind him.
Minutes later, when Elissa was wriggling out of her armour and going through her clothes while in her under shirt and cotton trousers, there was another knock at the door.
"I'm not decent," she called out irritably.
"Is that supposed to stop me coming in?" Zevran drawled. The door opened bit and Zevran slipped inside. "You're perfectly decent," he commented. "In fact, I'd wager I've already seen you wearing less. I'm disappointed."
"Oh shush you," Elissa said, going behind the screen and taking off her armour's underclothes. "I've just been told I'm not allowed to wear armour to the Landsmeet. And now I don't know what to wear."
"How about that blue dress?" Zevran said, looking at the garment hanging off the wardrobe door. The silk was a lovely vivid blue with long sleeves, trimmed and embroidered with silver. Elissa huffed.
"Not wearing a dress to a Landsmeet," she said grumpily. "Besides, that's for the ball tonight."
"Well then," Zevran said, going through the pile of clothes in Elissa's trunk. "Here. Put on these," he said, handing the garments over the top of the screen.
Elissa pulled on the clothes dutifully and stepped out from behind the screen. She was in a soft white shirt under a sleevless leather jerkin with trails of laurel leaves embroidered down each side in blue and silver thread. She pulled on Soris' boots over her green brocade trousers and stood up with a flourish.
"There," Zevran said proudly. "Formal yet relaxed, and not a dress. Happy?"
"I'd be happier in armour," she said, looking at Zevran in his leathers enviously. "But thank you nonetheless. Are you going too?"
"Me? No, no, no," Zevran said with a laugh. "They already have issue with Shianni being there, perhaps best not to add more elves to the mix. Darrian and I are going to be about Denerim. Not sure what we're going yet but..."
"O-ho?" Elissa queried with a smirk. "You seem to be getting along well with your student."
"Well that's one way to put it," Zevran said, mirroring Elissa's smirk.
"How did his family reunion go?"
"Well, I'm no expert on these things but it seemed to go well," the assassin said. "Tears from most involved is normal during such an event, yes?"
"If my reunion with Fergus was anything to go by then yes I'd say so," Elissa replied.
"Tears aside they were very happy to see him. I think he's down there now helping Shianni prepare for her first Landsmeet."
"She'll be fine."
"Of that I have no doubt," Zevran said with a chuckle. "It's the nobles standing near her that should be nervous." Zevran stretched, the bones in his back and neck popping loudly. "Now your clothing crisis is averted, I must see your brother before you depart. Enjoy the Landsmeet, Elissa."
Elissa sighed as Zevran left and went to her weapons cache. She picked up one of the smaller daggers she owned and contemplated slipping it inside her boot. It was elven made, a gift from one of the Dalish clans in the forests of Arlathan. She pulled the curved blade from its embossed sheath and looked at the leaf engravings for a moment. She sheathed it and placed it back in the box – if Anora said no weapons, then she would go with no weapons, no matter how uncomfortable she was.
x.x.x
Elissa had only ever seen the Landsmeet chamber twice before in her life.
Once, when she was fourteen, accompanying her Father to a Landsmeet. Oriana was nearing the end of her pregnancy and Fergus refused to leave her, so Elissa had persuaded her father to take her instead. It was probably the only time she'd been on her utmost best behaviour while in Denerim (and the only time she requested to go to the capital, no doubt) since she was determined that year (after being confronted with her first potential suitors) to prove her worth and be seen as a capable potential noble, not just a noble-baby-maker.
The second was the Landsmeet during the Blight. Well, we all know how well that went.
She'd never appreciated how grand it was. The wood on the balconies was all beautifully carved, and the standard of each arling or teyrnir hung on the wall behind each one. The carpets on the floor where the bannorn stood were fairly new and the throne on the dias had been replaced with one a mite smaller.
Elissa frowned as she looked at the new sculpture on the wall above the throne dias, but on closer inspection she realised it wasn't a sculpture at all. A dragon's skull was bolted to the wall, a sword wedged in the bone between its eye sockets. Elissa peered at the sword handle and she felt as if her heart had dropped out of her stomach.
That was not the skull of just any dragon, but the Archdemon. And wedged in the bone was Maric's sword.
Alistair's sword.
She understood now why the statue in Weisshaupt was mainly carved with incorrect runes – the sculptor could not see any more than those near the hilt since the blade was obviously stuck in the Archdemon's skull. Elissa felt a little swell of pride that Alistair had managed to leave an odd lasting legacy, showing the world without a doubt that it was he who landed that final blow.
She dragged her attention away from the imposing skull (she had to give Anora credit for creating a statement with it) and back to the now almost full hall. Whispers and chatter drifted up from the stalls and Elissa noted that a lot of heads were turned her way. Clearly her arrival in Denerim wasn't as well-publicised as she first thought.
She looked back at the dias again and noticed Ser Cauthrien standing at the corner, a respectable distance away from the throne but no so far as not to be at the Queen's side if necessary. There eyes met and Elissa nodded respectfully to the knight. Surprisingly enough, Cauthrien returned the gesture – Elissa hadn't had a chance to talk to Loghain's former second since the Blight but then again she didn't exactly picture Cauthrien as the talking type.
Trumpets blazed outside the Chamber and the doors were opened. Elissa watched Anora walk gracefully down the carpet through the banns of Ferelden, her head high and her eyes fixed on the throne on the dias. She was dressed smartly but not extravagantly, and her hand bore only two rings – one, a state ring of Ferelden bearing the Calenhad crest, the other Elissa recognised as her wedding ring from when she married Cailan.
Anora turned to face her lords and ladies when she got to the throne on the dias. She bowed to the Grand Cleric in the corner booth, who returned the gesture. Anora's eyes flitted around the upper balconies where her arls and teyrns resided and her eyes stopped on Elissa. Perhaps it was a trick of the light but Elissa could have sworn she saw a ghost of a smile play on Anora's lips when she saw her.
Anora sat down on her throne and the Landsmeet begun, the Chancellor reading through the agenda. There was much shouting and arguing in places, but Anora and her Chancellor handled it well. Fergus, too, seemed to have settled well into his political role, delivery his report confidently and arguing for some of the proposals (and against some of the others) with the same strength and skill. Elissa for her part was mainly silent save for when she was whispering suggestions or comments to Fergus, or helping Leliana (who was there as Rory's eyes and ears) make notes.
Partway through Elissa was sure she felt Darrian quite close by. She couldn't pinpoint his location or see him, but he was in the Chamber somewhere. Clearly his curiosity had got the better of him and he had snuck inside – but it also said something about the tightness of the security that he was here. Darrian was skilled, true, but there were others like him. She made a mental note to bring it up with Cauthrien later.
After the Landsmeet recess, a lot of the minor lords had left since they were not required to be present for that portion of the proceedings. The floor was less packed now, with only the larger bannorn lords present.
Elissa paused and scratched the top of her hand. Her senses were tingling, the blood in her veins burning – not darkspawn, but someone tainted, someone with murderous intent and his blood rate quickening, and someone she did not know. Darrian was still nearby but his taint wasn't singing for the thrill of a hunt. Elissa stepped forward to the balcony's edge to get a better view of the Chamber, eyes scanning the throng of lords and ladies.
From the shadows on one of the lower balconies Elissa saw a flash of steel and the point of a crossbow – pointing at the Queen! She didn't think, she just acted, hopping over the balcony (to many shouts of surprise) and sprinting across the hall.
Elissa, her senses heightened by her taint and the presence of this tainted assailant, heard the click of the crossbow and the whirr as the bolt whizzed through the air. She was bowled onto her back as she ran into its line of fire, the bolt wedged into the hollow of her shoulder.
"Assassin!" she shouted.
Cauthrien reacted instantly, jumping in front of Anora and shielding the Queen from any further attacks. Elissa could feel the frustration of the assailant through their shared taint, and heard a clatter as the crossbow was tossed aside. The Banns scattered, most moving towards the doors and fleeing the Chamber.
"Shut those doors!" Elissa shouted. "Don't let him escape!"
Elissa felt a rustle of movement behind her and dodged the stealthed assassin. This one wasn't tainted – clearly the crossbowman wasn't working alone. She ducked and dived under the flurrying blades as fast as she could and grasped for the only weapon she had – the steel crossbow bolt in her shoulder.
She wrenched the bolt free, blood blooming on her white shirt and trickling down her arm. She parried one of the daggers and grabbed the attackers wrist of the hand that held the other, using her superior strength to kick him in his most delicate area forcefully and throw him into the wall.
Alfstanna had jumped down from her balcony (like several other parts of Ferelden, though now only a bannorn, Waking Seas used to be an Arling and had kept its traditional balcony post for Landsmeets) and was shouting orders to the scrambling guards. An assassin appeared from the shadows behind her and before Elissa could shout a warning Alfstanna had reached into the sleeve of her shirt and stabbed her attacker before he could strike, kicking the wounded man aside.
The crossbowman had moved to the Landsmeet floor (now empty, save for a few of the braver banns – Teagan amongst them) and Elissa could get a better look at him. He was tainted, true, but not in the corrupted sense. Her mouth dropped open in realisation.
"You're a Warden," she said in disbelief as the tall man advanced on her. Elissa was wishing she had done like Alfstanna and kept a hidden blade about her person now. She ducked under one swinging axe and attempted to parry the other with the bolt – which promptly snapped under the force.
"I am not," the man snarled in an accent Elissa had trouble placing, "one of them."
"But you are," Elissa said with a smirk (why was she smiling? Her arm was bleeding and she was facing a heavily armed man with only a stub of a crossbow bolt as a weapon). "I can feel it in you."
Elissa regretted provoking him while unarmed as she was kicked backwards onto the floor. She rolled left, the axe cutting into the carpet floor uselessly, then right to dodge the second blow. She hastened to her feet and ducked another swinging attack, when some loud swearing made them both pause.
There was a crash from the Gwaren balcony and another assassin was thrown violently over the barrier. He crashed into the crossbowman and both were sent sprawling to the floor. Darrian hopped lightly from the balcony to the Chamber floor and was quickly at Elissa's side.
"Sorry I'm late," he said. "We found that one skulking around and he was a bit of a bother."
"We?" Elissa queried.
"Me and Zev. He should be down shortly."
As if on cue there was a scream as another assassin was pushed over the balcony landing on the floor with a sickening crack. Zevran appear on the balcony ledge, bloodied dagger in hand.
"And to think," he said loudly, "that I thought Ferelden was getting boring!"
Elissa laughed and turned to Darrian again. "What were you doing up there anyway?" she asked, looking him up and down. His buckles were all clipped wrong and his armour was in a general state of disarray. There was also the ghost of a love bit visible on his neck where his hair was pushed back behind his ear.
"Oh you didn't," she said. Darrian grinned sheepishly – a grin which faltered as the Warden-assassin pushed his groaning comrade off him and got to his feet. Darrian frowned in concentration and looked the angry man up and down.
"He feels... odd," Darrian said, confused.
"He's a Warden," Elissa explained.
"I am NOT!" the man shouted.
"Oh yeah, so he is," Darrian said flippantly. The man growled in rage and Darrian handed Elissa his sword, taking his two daggers for himself.
"Oops," Darrian said. "May have touched a nerve."
"Elissa!" Zevran shouted, tossing down one of his swords to her. She caught it deftly and grinned her thanks at her friend.
"Darrian," she said, "help Cauthrien get the Queen out of here. Don't let anyone near her without Cauthrien's say so,"
"Aye, aye," Darrian said, hurrying off.
Elissa jumped into battle which, now she was properly armed, went quickly. The man was skilled and fast, but Elissa had fought better opponents before. On top of that, he was focused on the kill while she was focused on capture. His guard was solid around vital points but not on the areas Elissa was going for. She slashed at his knee and his elbow, making him stagger, and forced him to the floor. She got him to drop his weapons and held him there, her blades crossing at his neck.
"Your name and your employer, if you please," she said with a smile. "Or I will make this very painful for you."
"Fine," he said angrily. "Do you worst. It can't be any worse than this poison inside me – the poison inside you," he added. "Do you really feel proud dancing to their tune when they are the ones who have effectively killed you?"
Elissa hesitated, not because of the question but because a loud interrogation where Warden secrets would be revealed was not wise in this setting. She didn't have to worry about that, however, because the doors to the Landsmeet chamber burst open and a small group of armed men and women entered. One shot an arrow from her bow through the assassin's eye and he slumped forward at Elissa's feet, dead.
Elissa shouted angrily at the newcomers. "What the hell are you doing?" she said to the newcomers.
"Ah," the leader of the newcomers said. "Warden-Commander. What a pleasant surprise. I suppose we were lucky you were here – we were running a little late."
"I'm not the Warden-Commander," Elissa said, tucking her borrowed blades into her belt. The newcomers were all Wardens, four all told, each bearing some form of the griffon crest be it belt or embossed on their armour. She tore off her ruined sleeve angrily and pressed the folded linen to her wound to stem the bleeding. "And you have me at a disadvantage, Warden."
"Ah – truly? Then the word from Weisshaupt must be incorrect," he said. Elissa felt her skin prickle and forced herself to calm down. "I am Senior Warden Emiren, Sister, of Kirkwall in the Free Marches. Perhaps we could continue this discussion... somewhere more private?"
The remaining banns were being ushered from the hall, and Alfstanna was co-ordinating the clean-up. Elissa nodded to her fellow Warden sharply, seeing that everything was under control.
"Darrian," she called over her shoulder. The elf rogue was at her side quickly and she handed him back his sword. "Inform Her Majesty that I will report to her as soon as I can. Stay with her and be alert. We do not know whether there are more assassins about. Where is Zevran?"
"Scouting the castle walls to see if there are any others."
"Good. And Leliana?"
"Turning her charms on the guards to try and find the leak."
"Perfect. What about my brother?"
"With the Queen."
"Excellent – double the reason for you to stay with them. I'll be up as soon as I can."
Darrian eyed Senior Warden Emiren suspiciously before he turned to go. "Don't be too long. You need to get that wound stitched up," he said by means of farewell as he walked towards the exit.
Elissa led the way up the stairwell to the balconies and the private back room for the Teyrn of Highever. She shut the door behind them and locked it for safe measure.
"So Ferelden Wardens answer to their Queen?" Emiren asked.
"No," Elissa said. "I answer to my Queen. As you are no doubt aware by now, I am still considered of a noble house. Therefore when Her Majesty requests my presence, I attend."
"Your priorities seem to be a little skewed, Sister."
Elissa laughed bitterly. "My priorities? Why are you questioning my priorities when darkspawn still plague the North Road scant miles away from where the Wardens are based? I know where my priorities are – for the good of the Wardens security in Ferelden we have to make sure we do not aggravate the political apple-cart. Poorly managed politics was how they were banished from here after all."
Emiren did not reply to that, so Elissa continued. "Who was that Warden?"
"A rather skilled freelance assassin called Kerron," Emiren replied sadly. "He was conscripted before he was due to be executed. However, he did not take to being a Warden well, since it turned out some of his fellows had organised an escape on the day of the execution. Nevertheless, he survived the Joining... then swiftly escaped some weeks later."
"Why did you kill him? He should have been kept for questioning!"
"His motives and his employer are none of our concern, Sister," the Marches Warden replied tersely. "He was a threat to the security of the Order and our secrets and abandoning his duty to defend against the darkspawn. The Wardens have no interest in nation politics."
"No? Clearly, dear Brother, you have not been to the Anderfels."
Emiren's lips tightened in mild annoyance. "If you feel things ought to have been handled differently then your path is clear, Sister. The Orlesian Commander gave us a free reign to do what we wished with our fugitive."
Elissa's eyes narrowed. "You knew I hadn't accepted the Commander position."
"Of course," the Warden replied smoothly. "Not officially anyway. Though, if your priorities are as you say, you will reconsider the offer." Emiren reached into his satchel and pulled out a letter bearing the Weisshaupt seal.
"The First Warden eagerly awaits a reply," Emiren continued. "We would be most grateful if you assumed the position of Commander – it would help to help secure the Order in Ferelden if one of its own people was leading the detachment here."
Elissa sighed and looked at the commission papers in front of her. She knew why she was hesitating – she wanted her duty to be Fergus' captain and second, to help him with Highever like she always wanted. That was all she ever wanted. Now, she was a Warden, for better or for worse. Duncan's dark words to Jory from their Joining returned to her.
There is no turning back.
Elissa sighed. Duty was never something you could choose. She supposed she should have learnt that by now. She quickly turned to the desk at the back of the room and hastily scratched her name with the quill and sealed the wax with her Cousland signet ring.
"There," she said irritably, handing the papers back to Emiren. "Now, if you will excuse me, I've a number of affairs to attend to before I start in Amaranthine."
"The Order is in your debt, my sister," Emiren said with a smile.
Elissa paused at the door and laughed bitterly. "Of course. Like I haven't heard that before," she said icily.
x.x.x
Okay, so I did end up splitting this chapter (wait and see for Denerim II) because it started getting mega mega long... the next chapter is short in comparison but also a tad steamy ;D
Please review! I do love getting them, even if I am the worst author in the world, making promises I never keep lol. Denerim II should be up fairly soon, all being well :)
Love love
~paa x