xXXXx
Things were faring well at Caer Bronach. The tasks that Gwen assigned the groups were all but finished and the soldiers doubled up on watches to keep busy. Many roamed the countryside, within sight of the keep, to help with the undead or to hunt and gather food.
Though they set up several tents in expectation of new arrivals, most of the sleeping and other downtime was spent in the fortress's interior rooms, away from the rain. Since the work was nearing completion, Gwen assigned a full-time cook and allowed anyone to have a hot bath if they needed it.
Despite those achievements, her close companions were getting anxious. They'd been camped for almost three days since the siege, and there were daily arguments about whether waiting was the right course of action, the main antagonist being Hawke. Cassandra and Varric were at each other's throats, bickering constantly. Solas kept to the task of training his pupil, healing his ward, and watched silently as his companions' usually pleasant interactions devolved into near brawls. Alistair slept and ate, and ate more, and continued to heal, growing stronger as the hours passed.
Through it all, Gwen tried to keep the peace, but her perseverance and patience had started to waver. Tensions were high.
…
15 Cloudsreach 9:41 Dragon
Caer Bronach
Personal Journal
I can hear two angry voices right now as I'm trying to peacefully eat my breakfast with Alistair; they are arguing over something idiotic, like… who gets to do today's inventory in the stockroom.
Alistair says they need to just find a room and get it over with. Though crude, I think he might be onto something…
Tasks for today:
-Healing practice
-Inventory and send soldiers to the village for supplies
-Avoid Hawke...
Alistair and I seem to have settled into a lovely schedule of eating meals together and taking walks along the battlements, when time allows.
So far, I've learned more about his personality: he's a strong, proud man, with a big heart. His rough edge has been worn down a little to reveal a caring, empathetic, and sensitive person.
My feelings toward him are... the same. I like him more with each passing day and I wonder… could our friendship be more someday? If it could, am I even ready for it?
I'm watching him now, eating his eggs and potatoes… scraping the plate to finish every last morsel on his plate. Catching my eye with those kind and intense eyes...
Dear Maker. I need more work, it seems. Where was I? Oh, yes, Alistair and our growing bond.
Sometimes when we're together, I try to ascertain if he feels anything for me beyond our camaraderie. He seems softer with me than say, Cassandra, but it is difficult to tell because he still holds up his walls, even when we're alone. I think he still feels like he's got to be this powerful presence, representing the Grey Wardens, but I respect him and his character already.
Despite my criticism, I can relate. I try to be strong for my people, show them that I'm a capable leader, but I also want to show them that I'm a normal person just like they are.
Sometimes I do find them looking at me when I'm scrubbing the floor here and their jaws just drop. Why can't the Inquisitor wash the bathing room floor? With our small group of soldiers, we all need to do the work. They're just not used to seeing me doing more than sitting behind a desk or giving orders.
Dear Maker, here I am rambling to myself again… on parchment, no less-
…
A snap of fingers brought her eyes up from her journal to the warm, brown eyes belonging to the Grey Warden that sat next to her, a slight smirk playing on his lips.
"You really focus when you're writing, don't you?" He pointed a thumb towards two of their companions in the midst of a heated debate. "They're about to tear each apart. I think you'd better intervene, Inquisitor."
Gwen rose immediately from her seat. "Maker's breath." She shook her head.
Varric and Cassandra were in the middle of the ward now, taking turns at spewing angry words to one another, inching closer and closer with each hate-filled word. The Inquisitor strode into their space and folded her arms across her chest, waiting for them to realize she was there and stop.
The dwarf was the first to catch sight of his superior and turned his head abruptly to the side. Cassandra's words trailed off until she too turned her head. Her face was flush with anger and her fists were balled at her sides.
"What is going on here? The two of you look like fools, arguing about inventory and… I couldn't quite make out—"
"Weapon and armor repair." Varric cut her off, through gritted teeth. "Like I told her, just because I'm a dwarf doesn't mean I know anything about blacksmithing." He jerked his head back to Cassandra. "You would have thought she'd have retained that much during her lengthy interrogation in Kirkwall."
"That is unfair! You always bring that up. It is over and done. Can't you let it go?" She held her fists out in front of her, shaking them at him.
Varric's voice boomed out. "Seeker, you bound me and forced me at sword point to give you Hawke's whereabouts. Pardon me if I'm still a little sore about it." He rolled his eyes at Cassandra who huffed at him.
Cassandra dropped her hands to her sides, fists released. She then sighed and responded tersely and quietly, "I... apologize for harassing you, but I was desperate." She looked at Varric, her pleading eyes betraying her hard stance and raised head.
The dwarf raised his eyebrow at her, taking every inch he could get, and asked, "Does the apology mean you'll let me inventory the storerooms instead of doing the repair work?"
"Absolutely not! I don't trust you with the inventory." Cassandra responded. "You'll fix the armor; I'll do the inventory."
"Gah! I thought we were gaining some ground there, Seeker. Unless I'm holding a quill, or Bianca, I'm all thumbs. I'm not fixing anything; you can get that out of your head right now."
"Well, I'm not allowing you into the storerooms alone," she quipped.
"I'm not going to steal anything!"
A cacophonous jumble of word-noises began rising ever louder through the courtyard and heads turned toward the couple making the ruckus.
Gwen shook her head and lay it to rest in her hand. "Goodness gracious, stop it you two!" She bellowed in her Inquisitor voice.
They halted and turned toward her and she began her own tirade.
"Get over yourselves! Everyone is doing jobs they aren't suited for! I was scrubbing the floors this morning! Do you really think that I did the job because I'm accustomed to being on my hands and knees?"
She winced at her own words and turned squarely toward a snickering Varric. "DON'T answer that question."
She continued, "Now, since neither one of you can come to an agreement on these duties, both of you will be finishing up those tasks together ." Before either party could retort, she added, "And you'll do it with smiles on your faces and voices that can only be heard between the two of you... Or else."
Cassandra was the first to respond and she began pleading with Gwen. "Inquisitor, please. Give me someone else, give me anyone else... I'll even take Alistair!"
From a few yards away, the Warden called out, "He-ey! I'm right here, you know."
Gwen crossed her arms again. "No."
She exhaled loudly and began again, this time speaking so that only the three of them could hear. "I need you two to bury whatever this is between you and move on ."
She turned to Varric. "You told me two days ago that I need to become more involved with you all. Well, here I am." Gwen brought each hand to rest on her companion's shoulders.
"As your leader and your friend, I ask you to keep the peace."
She looked to Varric, "Cassandra apologized for her mistreatment of you; you need to forgive her." She then turned her head toward the Seeker. "Cassandra, you need to trust Varric. You trust him in battle, right? Then believe his word that he isn't going to tamper with our inventory."
She squeezed their shoulders in a firm embrace. "I can see the damage this fighting is causing both of you. You're on edge and exasperated. I need you to be at peak performance when we leave here and continue on our journey."
As Gwen released them, she looked back and forth between them, her eyes urging them to make amends. "Please?"
The Seeker nodded, albeit unenthusiastically.
Varric, stood again with crossed arms and eyed both of the women cautiously. "I can do it if she can," he sighed, dropping his arms to his sides.
Gwen dropped her hands to her sides again. "Good. Now off with you both. And if I hear so much as an elevated tone from either one of your voices, you'll be cleaning the latrines." She gave a forced, gleeful smile and walked away.
.
Barely hours after her encounter with Varric and Cassandra, she was in her office collecting her notes on the few books which were found at Caer Bronach and filing last night's scout report into her large pile of correspondences to go to Skyhold. The room she now occupied was small, but dry. That was of utmost importance when she had to be writing multiple reports from a location where there was more rain than sun. The Inquisition, Josephine in particular, would not stand for water droplets on the official reports. On a silent rampage, she tried to find her notes in the piles of papers adorning her desk.
A single loud knock jarred her silence and was followed by the door opening forcibly, revealing a glum Hawke. The door had scarcely shut when he started on her. She sat down with a harumph.
"Inquisitor, we need to leave Caer Bronach and get on with this damn mission."
"We can't." Gwen said calmly, idly organizing her small pile of correspondences from the desk where she sat.
"No?" His tone curled up at the end of the word. Hawke stood at the opposite end placing his hands wide across the desk.
She sighed, exhausted and looked up to him. "We're not moving until we receive those reinforcements."
"But, how can you be sure that your Spymaster even got the message?" Hawke said disbelieving.
"We just have to have faith that the bird made it."
He rolled his eyes, not bothering to hide his frustration. "You're forcing us to wait here, for Maker knows how long, while that thing in the lake keeps spitting out its walking dead?! Your people are fighting amongst themselves. Your people are bored. What more proof do you need that it's time to move on?!"
The Inquisitor shook her head.
He walked away, then turned on his heel facing her again, spitting out his words. "You are unbelievable."
Gwen looked up at his agitated visage and something within her snapped. Anger hit her and she rose, kicking the chair back into the wall. "I will not leave this fortress to be defended by a handful of recruits! It isn't right, it isn't safe. There are still bandits out there, if you haven't noticed! We could lose these people; we could lose the whole damn fortress all over again! I'm just not ready to take the chance!"
She paused, walking around her desk with her head in her hand and yelled at him again. "And what happened to trying to be civil?!"
Hawke growled. "I didn't realize I'd have to be civil for three damn days. It's impossible to just wait here! We need to do... something!"
Gwen calmed herself down, her voice raspy from yelling. "I'm sorry, my answer is still no. I can't know the consequences if we just up and leave. I must stay the course. We must wait. Can't you understand that?"
"No I can't understand that, and neither can I understand how made you the Inquisitor." He huffed, aiming low with his insults, turning to leave.
"Excuse me?" Gwen's jaw dropped at his comment.
He retreated, walking to the door and placing his fingers on the handle ready to pull it. Then Hawke turned to face her and stared at her with a deeply furrowed brow, speaking in a nearly inaudible voice. "They hired a child: faltering and incompetent! They should've hired someone who could actually make a decent decision, even a sacrifice once in a while. You just don't have what it tak—"
The Inquisitor's eyes darkened and she strode to where he stood, pointing her finger at him with each disparaging word. "Don't. Even. Go. There. I know what you did in Kirkwall. What sacrifice you felt you had to make in order to have justice be served. The mage… he was your friend, right? I suppose I should have thought about what you are capable of before I extended my hand to you."
Gwen continued, irrational and upset. "Yet, you surprise me. Two mornings ago you lectured me about putting Alistair in harm's way and now you're ready to possibly throw away soldiers and an entire fortress because you think their sacrifice is worth another few days' head start? Why the sudden change of heart?"
He turned away from her while visibly fuming and began to open the door, but she threw her palm against it, forcing it shut as she berated him further. "Perhaps lowly Inquisition soldiers don't mean anything to you? Are their lives expendable? Do you want their blood on your hands too?!"
Hawke was seething with rage. His face was red with anger and his eyes wild. She'd hit a nerve and she knew it. She called him a hypocrite and a murderer and he wasn't willing to have his past spilled out into the small room that they occupied. So, he pushed past her, choosing to stomp out the door, slamming it behind him with all his might.
Gwen walked slowly back to her desk and sat down, her eyes wide and tired. She tried to focus on her reports, she even pulled her journal out again, but she just couldn't find the smooth thread of thought that usually hung about in her mind. It was frayed and frazzled now, and there was no way she was getting it under control until she rested, relaxed, and calmed herself down.
"So much for hiding from my angry companions." Gwen placed her forearms wide on the desk and let her head fall between them with a dull thud.
.
From one of the high tower halls, she leaned with arms hanging over the rail, looking westward to the newly drained lake and the dead village below. At least the last three days dried the muck into a semblance of walkable earth.
Still, the sky darkened again on the eve of the third day and Gwen was feeling despondent.
She was so focused on the lake and her own thoughts that she didn't hear Alistair padding toward her with soft footsteps against the stone floor. When he leaned down to mimic her stance she gasped in alarm, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"You scared the breath out of me." She spoke with a startle in her voice.
"I'm sorry." He looked into her eyes, seeing her despair. "Cassandra is looking for—are you alright?"
She buried her face in her hands. "I'm fine." She said quietly, hoping in vain to satisfy his curiosity.
"Shouldn't you be on watch?" Gwen peeked over at him warily.
"Probably, but I wanted to find you first. Cassandra wanted to speak with you." He looked out at the lake. "And you're not fine, I know there's something wrong."
"Look, I appreciate you finding me. Tell her that I'll be down to the campfire soon." With that she rose and tried to walk away past him to find another secluded nook to crawl into for a few minutes, but he held her arm.
When she faced him, his eyes were so penetrating and his brow so furrowed, that she resisted the urge to run away. She lost herself in his appraisal of her and hung her shoulders in a moment of weakness.
"If you need to talk to someone," Alistair's eyes softened, "You can talk to me."
She turned away again, pulling her arm from his grasp and slamming her fist into the parapet. "I need those troops to arrive! That's what I need... Eight people isn't enough to hold Caer Bronach while we seal that rift in the caves." Gwen flailed her arm out at the green light shining from the rocky waters beyond the old village. Disgusted with herself, she raged, "We're wasting time!"
The Warden leaned onto the wall and offered her a small smile, "You're not being fair to yourself. Someone has to make the decisions, right or wrong."
"I feel helpless and frustrated." She sighed and gripped the stone wall tightly. "I haven't felt this way since, well," she dropped her voice and looked at down at her white knuckles, "since Haven fell."
Gwen dropped her head to her chest. "Maker's breath, that was only a month ago. Am I truly that feeble?"
"No, having this responsibility is stressful. I can't imagine what you're going through." Alistair rose and came closer to her, placing a hand of sympathy upon her slumped shoulder, his thumb moving softly over the crest. "I'm sorry, but you don't have endure this alone."
Ignoring his comforting tone, her words spilled out in exasperation. "Haven was my fault too. Perhaps if I'd allied with the Templars or done something different , I'd have been able to save more lives." Gwen leaned forward out of his grasp and as her palms found her eyes, she dropped her head into them.
Understanding her want for space, the Warden stepped back and leaned against the parapet, listening to her pour out her thoughts and feelings. Alistair got the distinct impression that she'd seldom spoken to anyone about these events in her new life.
"Everything went so well the first couple months. Yes, we were newly born and getting to know one another, but everything flowed smoothly. The Hinterlands wasn't so bad, and Haven felt like… a home." She turned away from the landscape and put her back to the stone, sliding down to sit on the cold, hard floor. Akin to a child, she wrapped her arms around her knees.
Dipping her head to her forearms, she spoke again. "And after being thrown into that ghastly future in Redcliffe, I wasn't prepared for yet another disaster. I just thought we'd be alright. That everything would go smoothly again."
"Then Haven fell. Now I fear that this situation is going to devolve into another great mishap somehow. If Corypheus knew I was here, under-staffed and lame, he could strike at us and destroy everything we've worked so hard to build." At the last, she looked over to Alistair, who dropped to sit next to her on the ground as she released her concerns upon him.
An expectant look crossed her face as she waited for some kind of response from him. "Gwen, I believe we're going to be fine. I've been through rough spells too, one right after another, just like you. I succeeded, and you will too." He offered a smile to her. "Your confidence is waning and it shouldn't be. You're doing your best. What happened to that focused, fearless woman I met in the cave almost a week ago?"
Turning her face him, she answered, " Hawke happened. Cassandra and Varric happened. I feel like Solas and you are the only ones who truly trust my decision. Everyone else is upset with me and it's manifesting in different ways. I haven't even had a decent conversation with Cassandra since before meeting you, and she's usually my rock." She trailed off and found a piece of rubble near her foot to fumble with.
Facing away from him, she continued, "There's more: when you were still unconscious, Varric, he was drunk and he said some things… about me … I don't really want to go into it, but he told me that I need to start opening up."
In a sympathetic, yet chastising voice, Alistair responded, "He's right."
With a swift turn of her head, she looked at him, surprised at his honesty.
Alistair kept going. "Look at you. Everything is bottled up. Have you ever talked to anyone else about your troubles? You have a couple drawbacks and you're starting to fall to pieces on the inside. Believe me, if I didn't have a confidante during the Blight or the years after, I'd be a basket-case now and no use to you whatsoever." He grinned at his attempt to lighten the mood, but the young woman beside him only frowned.
As frustration rose again, she became defensive and groaned. "It isn't like I've been actively trying to alienate myself! I'm trying to lead an entire organization while treading across all of Thedas fixing the holes in the sky created by that inhuman monster! Not exactly the best time to be cultivating relationships! They should have never made me Inquisitor... I wasn't ready." She stood quickly and began to pace about.
Alistair rose swiftly to calm her and opened his mouth to speak, but he was cut off.
"EVERYTHING I had before that explosion was gone in one moment and I was shoved into this position with little choice in the matter. I'm doing the best I can, damn it!" She fumed, her voice elevating and her breath becoming erratic.
After a few moments of staring at her with remorse in his eyes, he spoke at last. "You've—reminded me of Mihna."
Exasperated, she breathed out in response. "What?"
The man dropped his eyes to the ground and shook his head. "She never wanted the mantle of command. It... it was my fault that the burden was laid on her. We were called traitors and had just escaped from Ostagar. I was the Senior Grey Warden, but I told her that bad things would happen if I took the lead and made some piss-poor joke about losing my pants or something."
Gwen stood, her face still pinched in anger. "Why?"
His honey-brown eyes rose to meet hers with a dark intensity. "I was a stupid boy who was drowning in grief over the death of a friend, and I was terrified."
A moment later Gwen's face softened. "Oh, Alistair."
He drew closer to her, touching her shoulders hesitantly. "I've seen your skill as a mage firsthand, and a bit of your cunning on and off the battlefield. You have an eye for gathering useful allies to aid your cause. I know you can be the Inquisitor. No, you are the Inquisitor."
Unthinking, Gwen leaned into his embrace, lost in his words and consumed by his eyes. He accepted her action by pulling her into a tender hug. Strong arms wrapped around her shoulders and her arms met one another behind his back, squeezing tightly. Laying her head on him, she heard his heart pounding wildly in his chest. Sighing peacefully, she felt part of her stress lift from her shoulders.
Words came softly from her lips when she loosened her grip and stood in front of him, gazing into his eyes. "Thank you."
"Anytime." Alistair cleared his throat, and his eyes dipped to her lips and before he met her sage-green eyes again.
Rocking toward him, she smiled timidly, heat rising to her cheeks at his appraisal. Her heart beat heavily and she could hear the rush of blood in her ears.
With a deep breath, Alistair took a decisive step back, speaking quietly with the movement. "Come along. Cassandra will be wait—"
The Grey Warden was cut off, but not by his counterpart. In a flash of movement, a black bird flew low and landed between them on the parapet. Gwen's eyes sought Alistair's who mirrored her own hopeful, wide-eyed expression. She turned, held her hand out and the bird walked over to her, allowing her to untie the small pouch that it had tied to its leg. Once the package was in hand, the bird walked away and flew down to the old village below.
"Well… open it!" Alistair cried.
"I can barely hold it. Here." She reached a jittery hand out to him and he took the missive.
The Warden pinched the sleeve open and slid the message out into his hand, rotating it again and again. He squinted at it. "The lettering is quite small, and it's well… gibberish? I can't read it," he said exasperated, handing the precious missive to his companion.
She snatched it from his hands. "It's in code, you goof. Damn, I need the cipher though. Let's move!" Gwen pulled Alistair by the arm and they jogged down to the main ward where other occupants of the keep were resting for the evening.
Out of breath, they ran up to Cassandra, who was seated by the fire, eating dinner. Gwen spoke, "We were… up on the high tower... just got a message by crow! Meet me... in the office so we can decode it."
"Of course!" Cassandra dropped her plate to the ground and went to find the young woman.
Before Gwen ran to her office, she cast a gloating smile at the tall dark haired man who sat next to his dwarven friend by the fire. Hawke returned her gaze with a narrow glare and shook his head.
The Inquisitor called out as she moved to the interior room. "Varric, Hawke, I need you two, as well. Come on."
"Right away, Inquisitor." Varric belted out, grabbing his surly companion's arm and pulling the reluctant man into the office with the others.
.
[13 Ehrnl 41 Lmdowq
Irugpke
L
Bdmkz plni opounqf, N vbi enwldb gz rnw qernze xgr badrbae f vleielb kmpo wrs nq Btdeznwrb. Bwv N guwn xgem wri'ya cffq sr mp, btlzao kumt! Zdfnqf b gmtmtdaa ni e mtdtaubrni labm lpt pla Squsninmswb. Czdammbso zptg!
Yc lbe mefli ns olc gpdyi ltggtvnbo wrdy taaabfa bub fcza fbpldtae bie ubsr zrnt mtppri ektabku. Cztcep plat dw isqilz nq 3 ebzu.
HZ]
… decoded…
13 Cloud 41 Dragon
Skyhold
G
Early this morning, I was awoken by two scouts who decoded a message from you in Crestwood. Now I know what you've been up to, clever girl! Taking a fortress is a tremendous feat for the Inquisition. Excellent work!
We had talks in the hours following your message and have gathered and sent your troops already. Expect them by sunset in 3 days.
L
.
15 Cloudsreach 9:41 Dragon
Caer Bronach
Personal Journal
The reinforcements are finally coming! Tomorrow!
Hours ago we all met, deciphered the message, and set to work immediately thereafter. I'm so relieved and that's an understatement. I have a few soldiers collecting supplies for us and readying our packs. As soon as the troops arrive, we're off.
As much as I wanted to take Leliana's missive and wave it wildly in front of Hawke's face, I restrained myself. There's too much at stake to let grudges take us over. He seemed docile enough, perhaps I'll apologize to him before we go. I don't know how much longer I could have taken this stagnation and uncertainty; I can't blame him for feeling the same.
I feel I ought to say something about my outburst in front of Alistair on the ramparts. He diffused me, coached me, lifted my spirits, and it was absolutely wonderful. I feel refreshed both from his words and the news of our soldiers on the way. There was an embrace, and possibly something more?
I might be grasping at straws, but it really doesn't matter because I feel so very rejuvenated.
I just want to fall asleep with the bliss of knowing that I made a choice and stayed the course and that we're going to be off again shortly. Thank the Maker.