Chapter 12: a Night at an Inn

As mentioned briefly in Chapter 1, Virae had another close friend at the Circle tower besides Jowan, named Alain. Alain comes up again briefly in this chapter, and probably in the next.


Virae was looking forward to a real bed, a warm bath, and an opportunity to wash her mage's robes properly. Her robes were still spattered with blood from their encounter with bandits on the road shortly before they arrived, and she was feeling jittery from taking more lyrium potions than she was accustomed to. Usually she only needed to take one or two vials during a skirmish, but Alistair was standing too close to her when he used his cleanse-area templar skill, then she saw Zevran go down, and swallowed a potent lyrium potion before she realized he was only using his feign-death skill. For the first time, she understood how templars could become addicted to the stuff, she felt edgy… and more awake in a slightly artificial way.

The Grey Warden party arrived in the little village of Kendal in the late afternoon. Virae sent Alistair and Leliana to the Inn to hire rooms for the night – she was not in the mood to argue with an innkeeper about allowing elves to stay there. Sten headed straight for the bakery, and Morrigan was visiting the apothecary to get potion-making supplies. The two elves and Mabari were waiting in an inconspicuous corner of the small marketplace watching the small crowd of villagers gathered to peruse Bodahn's wares.

Ever since Zevran joined their group, Alistair had been more solicitous than usual, hardly ever leaving her alone with the Antivan elf. He even took last watch with her, and helped her practice with melee weapons. Virae was beginning to think Alistair might have changed his mind, and she was hoping that tonight he would join her in the privacy of her room.

In spite of that, Virae was pleased to have the opportunity to talk to Zevran without Alistair hovering over them. She felt the lump in her pocket; she had a gift for him.

/*/

Zevran was leaning against the wall, insolently watching the dozen or so humans around Bodahn's cart with hooded eyes. Virae looked over at the crowd and noticed a tall young human man, staring at the Antivan elf with obvious desire. She chuckled to herself, he really was like a glamour charm lure.

Virae turned to her fellow elf, "Zev, your Crow training included reading and writing Antivan, yes?"

"It did." He sounded a little offended, and regarded her from the corner of his eyes "Of course I can read and write Antivan. Why do you ask?"

Virae cocked her head to the side, "Will you teach me to speak Antivan?"

Zevran turned to look directly at her, "My dear warden, that could take years." He answered doubtfully.

"Oh please, I'm a good student." She said hopefully, "I learned to speak Orlesian from Leliana." Zevran raised an eyebrow.

Virae conceded, "Well, actually I taught myself to read Orlesian when I lived at the tower. Leliana has been teaching me how to pronounce it correctly."

"I thought you Fereldens threw out everything to do with Orlais, especially their language."

"The Chantry seems to take a little different view… with their headquarters in Orlais, and of course the Chant of Light was originally written in Orlesian. There were quite a few Orlesian books in the Circle library."

And, she thought, there were those Orlesian books she found at Arl Eamon's estate in Denerim. She carried those books around in her head throughout her childhood, wondering what was in them. Finally, as a teen, curiosity drove her to find a Ferelden/Orlesian dictionary in the Circle library. Most of the books were histories – told from the Orlesian point of view, but there was one book… once she understood what it was about… Virae blushed slightly. She supposed it wasn't so unusual for an older Ferelden nobleman married to a young Orlesian woman to have a book like that in his library. Her friend Alain took particular delight in helping translate it – Virae would write out a few sentences in Orlesian from her memory on a slate, and together they would figure out what it meant in Ferelden. It was a painstaking but entertaining process - and Alain, at least, had industriously put theory into practice.

Zevran was regarding her thoughtfully, "Why do you wish to learn Antivan?"

"Well, I like to collect… information and stories… I came across a crate in the storage caves at the Circle – it contained some books that belonged to a mage who had been the personal healer for a Ferelden noble family living in Antiva for some years. There was a book of poetry, and even though I translated it, poetry is so much better when you can hear it."

"Oh, and do you have this book hidden about your person?" he said, looking her up and down in way that made her shiver.

"In a manner of speaking, I do."

Virae explained how she remembered everything. He seemed skeptical, so she demonstrated by reading from a book of Antivan history, and then she asked, "Do you remember that conversation we had about the Dalish?"

"I remember we talked about them, yes" he responded doubtfully.

"Well, this is part of our conversation." She cleared her throat and concentrated.


In a close but slightly higher approximation of his own voice, Zevran heard her begin,"My original point is that my mother's Dalish nature was always a point of fascination for me. Through all the years of my Crow training, the one thing of my mother's that I possessed was a pair of gloves. They were of Dalish make, I knew that much, and beautiful. I had to keep them hidden, of course, as we were not allowed such things. Eventually they were discovered, and I never saw them again."

"But you don't think of yourself as Dalish." Said Virae's own voice.

The voice similar to his own said "Not at all. I think of myself as Antivan. Still, that did not stop me from running off to join a clan when it drew near Antiva City, once. Naturally the reality did not live up at all to the fantasies I had constructed as a boy, staring at those gloves. But such is life." (1)


Zevran simply stared at her for a minute or two, and then said "my dear warden, you have tremendous potential as a spy."

Virae laughed lightly, "I would make a terrible spy, I'm a dreadful liar!"

"Oh, I don't know about that." He drawled, "you were very convincing the other morning when you persuaded me of your desire for my presence in your bed in exchange for my weapons."

"Ah…" Flustered, she met his smug smile briefly, and then looked awkwardly away. The ruse had worked better than she expected. She admitted to herself it was because she wasn't pretending to be attracted to him. But, she simply could not act on that attraction.

Virae's face was grave as she looked him in the eye, "Zevran Araina, I am not your master. I am your leader. As your leader I have accepted your oath to serve my cause. Inviting you to my bed in exchange for your weapons, your life, or anything else would be…." she smiled guilelessly, "… inappropriate and dishonorable."

Zevran frowned, apparently that was not the response he anticipated.

"So," she rested her hand on his shoulder, "will you teach me to speak Antivan? Please?"

"If that is how you wish to make use of my very skilled tongue…" Zevran leered, "Why not?"

Virae was delighted, "Speaking of the Dalish, I have something for you." She handed him the pair of Dalish gloves she acquired in the Brecilian forest.


Virae was relishing how good it felt to be clean – really clean. She might have spent the whole evening in the bath if Leliana hadn't been waiting for her turn. Dinner at the Inn had been shepherd's pie. Not as good as anything Leliana or Morrigan could make, but much better than Alistair's lamb and peas stew.

They were all lounging around the common area of the Inn. Morrigan sat at a small table in the corner with Caraid, Virae sat between Alistair and Leliana at a large table, and Sten sat on Alistair's other side, systematically working his way through a large bag of cookies. Zevran had sauntered over to the bar and was alternately flirting with the tall young man from the market and the buxom bar maid.

"I can't believe you never drank beer before. Go ahead and try it," Alistair said, "it's Redcliff ale - the best in Ferelden!"

Virae eyed the pint-sized glass of frothy amber liquid doubtfully. Aaron, her mentor, once said that mages shouldn't mix alcohol and lyrium, but he didn't explain why. Beer and wine weren't allowed in the tower, so it was kind of a moot point at the time. Virae took a tentative sip. It was good… a little bitter - she detected an herb – hops? Hmm, it had an almost bread-like aftertaste. Before she knew it, her glass was empty, and Alistair was handing her another one.

Leliana got out her lute, and sang a beautiful ballad about lovers that became stars in the sky. Then Alistair taught everyone a drinking song he learned during his early days with the Grey Wardens. It was good to see Alistair remembering those good times without lapsing into depression. Even Zevran's two admirers joined in. As Virae finished off her second pint of beer, she found that she just couldn't help laughing at everything anyone said. She was even laughing at Alistair's jokes that she had already heard more than a few times.

Virae felt good in a slightly unreal way, like her brain was partially disconnected from her body. As she was navigating her way across the room to ask the barkeep exactly how beer was made, she lost her balance.

Zevran appeared suddenly and caught her before she hit the ground. He graciously relinquished her to Alistair, who wrapped a possessive arm around her a moment later.

"Would you like me to walk you to your room?" Alistair asked eagerly.

Virae smiled happily up at him, "Yes indeed."


Virae was standing in her room, alone, resting her head on the closed door. What just happened? She looked down at the rose in her hand, and then over at the empty bed. The bed she thought would be occupied by Alistair and her together by now. He'd seemed so eager to get her alone; she thought he'd changed his mind. She looked at the rose again and replayed part of the conversation in her mind…

… "I picked it in Lothering. I remember thinking, how could something so beautiful exist in a place with so much despair and ugliness? I thought maybe I could say something. Tell you what a rare and wonderful thing you are to find amidst all this…darkness." (1)

"Oh, by the bloody gates of the black city!" She groaned, "He never intended to share my bed tonight."

Feeling more than a little frustrated and a little dizzy from the beer and the lingering affects of a small lyrium overdose, Virae decided that she ought to take advantage of the real bed by getting some sleep, at the very least. It wasn't long before she drifted off…

She finds herself in a familiar place - the Circle library. She turns to the sound of "pssst", and she sees… Alistair… dressed in mage's robes, beckoning her from behind a bookcase. She pauses to check that there are no Templars watching, and eagerly slips into the alcove with him. She throws her arms around his neck and suddenly the length of his body is pressed against hers as he embraces her without hesitation. She closes her eyes as his lips press against hers, his tongue exploring deeply, one of his hands in her hair, the other reaching for the clasp holding her robes together…

Abruptly the mage is grabbed from behind and thrown away from her with a crash. Her eyes fly open to see Cullen turning to her, his eyes burning with anger. She steps back and starts to summon a lightning bolt, but he dispels it immediately. He shoves her against the wall and holds her there with his body, her hands trapped between them, one of his hands firmly covering her mouth, the other hand caressing her throat. She looks into his face and sees that the whites of his eyes have the blue-tinge of lyrium overdose. The hand over her mouth slowly relaxes, and he runs his thumb over her bottom lip and whispers, "So beautiful. So dangerous." The scream builds in her throat, but is muffled by his mouth crushing hers as he wraps both hands around throat…

Virae woke up with a start. "Just a dream, it was just a dream" she repeated to herself with relief. She took a deep breath and looked around the room, the table was… floating. The walls were… indistinct. She shuddered; she was in the fade. Virae got out of the bed and opened the door. The black city beckoned, unattainable in the distance. She took a few steps and wasn't surprised to find herself in a completely different place. She was surrounded by cavernous stone… an underground city in ruins, with stone walls and a high ceiling. Virae felt an irresistible pull toward a large gap in the floor ahead. As she crept slowly closer she could see that is was a gigantic trench. Summoning her courage, she peeked over the edge to see… darkspawn. Hundreds, maybe thousands of darkspawn moving in waves. The ground she is standing on trembles, then again, and again. Footsteps… the ground is shaking under the footsteps of a massive creature! Virae whirls around to face it. It's the archdemon – a high dragon. The head alone bigger than she is, only thirty yards away.

She is frozen in place. Wake up! She wills herself to wake, even as she is staring numbly at the corrupted beast and its mouth opens in a deafening roar "Is mise Urthemiel!"

Wake up! The ground shakes again as it takes another step toward her, "Dìoghlaidh an coireach agus neo-choireach ris!"it bellows.

Wake up! This time she nearly loses her balance as the monster takes another step, it's mouth almost seeming to grin, "Sgriosaidh mi Thedas agus cha stad sibh mi!"

The creature pulled its head back – WAKE UP! – then swung its head in a wide arc, blasting acid flames from its gaping jaws, the inferno sweeping right for her…

Virae woke screaming and skittered out of the bed to land huddled in the corner of the room.


(1) These are quotes from in-game dialogue. (Which I usually try to avoid - because what fun is that - but in this case it sort of works, I hope.)

Back in chapter 3 when the Mabari war hound joined the companions, I said I would somewhat arbitrarily use Gàidhlig (Scottish Gaelic) for the Tevinter language. The imitated pronunciation is only approximate.If there are any native Gàidhlig speakers reading this, please let me know if I got it wrong!

Is mise Urthemiel. (iss misha) Urthemiel. "I am Urthemiel."

Dìoghlaidh an coireach agus neo-choireach ris. (JEE-o-lee an COR-roch a-gus neo-CHOR-roch reesh)

"The guilty and innocent will suffer."

Sgriosaidh mi Thedas agus cha stad sibh mi. (SCREE-see me Thedas a-gus cha stat shiv me.)

"I will destroy Thedas and you (plural) will not stop me."

And a reminder:

caraid, (CAR-rich) "friend" (male gender)

mo charaid (mo CHAR-rich) "my friend"