Elissa offered to accompany Mahariel to hunt, saying she had experience. Five minutes later, they were back, with Mahariel looking dangerous.
"You're…..back" Thorin said, puzzled. They were empty-handed.
"I will be returning to the woods after I leave this stupid shemlen to you" Mahariel hissed as she looked at Elissa, who is near tears.
"You're very mean. Are all Dalish like you?"
Thorin held up his hand to stop them from bickering. "Alright, what happened?"
Elissa beat Mahariel to it. "Well, when we left, I said "I wish we have a horse."
"-What use would a horse be in the woods?" Mahariel scoffed.
"I started to tell her that, back at the estate, we shoot on the back of a horse while the hounds chase the deer. The host would blow a great horn signalling that the hunt was on then she cut me off and said to stop talking-"
"She is scaring away our prey," Mahariel explained.
"-So I did stop talking, though I was very upset because she was very rude, so I asked her what do Dalish do when they hunt? And she said-"
"Dalish do not talk or ask ridiculous questions while hunting"
"-I answered that seems very dull. But I saw a bush and I know there's always a pheasant in it and I said so to her. She told me it doesn't, and I said to her that I know there are, because our dogs use to go in the underbush and flush them out. I said I wish we had a dog but I remembered that we had elves who had sticks to beat the bushes when you don't have a dog. I suggested that to her and she started to be very abusive-"
"-I am no servant, I am Dalish. I will not carry sticks for shemlens like a fool!"
"- we quarreled and said I'd better go if all she does is be mean"
"-so I leave this in your hands, or else I might be tempted to shoot her."
"You see? She's very mean. And I can defend myself you know."
Mahariel only replied with a chilly glare and walked back towards the woods.
Thorin was silent for a while. He really doesn't know much about hunting above ground so all he said was "So…"
"I was only trying to help." Elissa set her bow and quiver on the ground and sat, her arms on her knees. "She's so mean. She wouldn't even tell me what I did wrong. I wish I was back at the castle. I wish my friends are here, or even the knights. They're a bit slow, but they don't say I'm a stupid shemlen who doesn't know anything. What's a shemlen anyway?" she sniffed. "I wish my dog was here," then she started crying.
One of the things that make him clueless is the sight of pretty girls crying. Because dwarven women he knew would have given a good thrashing rather than cry. Fortunately, another dwarf knows what to do.
"Ahh, come here ye poor lass," Brosca said as he embraced Elissa. She sobbed hard on his chest as he patted her back softly. "Let it all out. Let it all out."
"I'll…leave her to you then," Thorin said. Brosca nodded that he got it under control and so he walked away.
When Elissa stopped crying, she lifted her head and sniffed. "I'm sorry. Your shirt's ruined." Brosca looked at his shirt said, "S'alright. It needs washin, anyway." That earned a laugh from her.
"Ser Barker!"
A brown muddy figure was running towards them. Elissa picked up her skirts and ran towards it, where the dog bounded to his mistress, nearly knocking her over and enthusiastically licked her face.
"You named your dog Ser Barker?" Tabris asked when they caught up to her.
"Of course. Look at him, he is as gallant and brave as any knight" she answered, after she stopped crying for joy. To prove the point, the dog broke off licking his mistress' face and pranced, like a knight indeed. A muddy knight.
"That's great, since we seem to do a lot of rescuing. Are you up to it, Ser Knight?" Alistair asked the dog.
The dog wagged his tail and barked.
"Oh great. We're now talking to dogs. We've gone from retards to full lunatics." Neria huffed as she spun away.
As the others chased after Neria, teasing her, Elissa clung to her dog in hope. If Ser Barker had escaped the sack of Highever, then how much more her father and mother, the famous "Soldier and Seawolf'"? Surely, like some many of the stories his father told her of their narrow escapes from Orlesian pirates and chevaliers, her parents must have survived since they were together. Together they were invincible and they would not die so ignobly by ordinary men like Howe's. They are only hiding, waiting for a chance to bring justice to Howe like they did to the Orlesians. And they would expect their daughter to carry on and bear the name of Cousland with honor. With this in mind, she grew confident that they would all be reunited again. How could they not?
As she led her dog to camp, she vowed not to disappoint them.
"I don't understand why Morrigan taught you shapeshifting and not me. She doesn't even like you," Neria pouted at Amadeus.
He's not sure either. Oddly enough, it all started with a quarrel about which training was best. They had covered all the schools of magic until she mentioned her mother taught her shapeshifting.
"Oh, shapeshifting. Serves me right for asking a hedge witch. What's next? Teleportation? Bezoars for poisonings? Trolls in the dungeons?" he scoffed.
"My, aren't you quite a little skeptic? Your voice makes me picture a wizened, old man, shouting at children not to run across his yard."
"That's absurd, as absurd as your claims. The rules of magic show clearly that shapeshifting is impossible."
She stood up and readied her staff. "If you must be so annoying, then there is only one thing to do." She waved her staff and in her place stood a hawk. When she turned back into human form, all he had to say was "Parlor trick."
"A trick is it? It seems you are one of those people who must know it with their own senses. Very well, I shall make you see in such a way you can never deny it." And so she told him to observe one form. That was easy. And they've got a dog in camp. Mabaris are as smart as humans, only they couldn't talk. And then he became well, a dog. Mother knows best. He later said so to Morrigan, which made her smug for days.
Perhaps because she couldn't gloat as much over Neria, which she had when she was teaching him.
Tabris and Brosca came up to them as they were talking. "Oh, Morrigan can shapeshift? Can you ask her to turn into a cow?" asked the elf when Neria told him about the unfair teaching.
"And why would she do that?" Neria asked, puzzled.
"No idea. It's just so I can call her Moorigan."
"Ye shoulda tell Alistair that. Stone know he ain't been winnin against her." Brosca suggested.
"Oh you're bloody brilliant! I could tell Alistair so he could tell Morrigan. I could avoid getting gored while still getting a laugh."
"Yer mad."
Near the campfire, the others were whispering among themselves of the Qunari's trustworthiness.
"Are you sure we can really trust him?" Elissa said to Tabris, Neria, and Brosca. Amadeus was near the fire and them, not being used to camp life and he found the outside was much colder than he expected.
"Boss says he comes, then he comes," Brosca shrugged.
"Yeah but aren't you worried he might crush our heads while we're asleep. I mean look at him. He could probably do it with one hand," Tabris said, making a demonstration with his hand, as all of them looked at the giant talking with Thorin.
"Serves ye right for sleepin so soundly."
"He's a spy! We can't let him travel with us as we go all over Ferelden," Elissa protested.
"Ye really sure he's spyin as ye say he is?"
"No, but what would a Qunari do here, other than to spy?"
"You heard him. He was sent to know about the Blight."
"Yes he said that. But we can't know for sure if that's what he really was doing. What if-"
"Spirits in the Fade! You all are not going to stop babbling, are you?" Amadeus asked as he snapped his book shut. "If you're so curious, there's one way to find out." He stood up, brushed himself, and before anyone of them could stop him, he walked to the Qunari.
He planted himself in front of the giant, surprising both him and Thorin, and asked "Are you a spy?"
"Maker, Amadeus! You can't just go up to someone and ask if they are a spy," Tabris whispered, as the others look at the two, alarmed.
"I know what I'm doing,"the mage answered, before turning back to the Qunari. Sten replied that that was not his job. He was sent by the Arishok to investigate the Blight.
"Nothing more? And if the Arishok asks you to describe the mountains, the towns, the cities here?"
Sten replied that he would have to answer it as well, if he asks.
Amadeus turned to them and said "See? Spy."
Mahariel was able to hunt a pair of coneys. Game wasn't so easy to be found that day and it took her half-a day to even get it. She gave the meat to Alistair, who was cook of the day, along with some vegetables she found from abandoned farms of people who had fled, as she had to preserve the skins for extra money. When it was ready, the others had gone ahead to sup while Mahariel was still busy washing off the blood from her hands and knives.
The others expected dinner to be a hearty stew, which after all their troubles, would hopefully remind them of the good old days. Instead, the food was a congealed, grey mess that stuck like mud on their spoons, smelling like anguish and tasting like despair. Except the cook, only the dwarves devoured their portions with gusto. Each of them have eaten worse, and while the food tastes funny, they thought this was just what surface food is like. That does not stop them from wishing it was nug roast instead, though.
The lady took a dainty bite every now and then, but spent more time talking than eating. At her side, the dog took a sniff at his bowl and started to whine, but his mistress shot him a look and he gobbled his portion in great gulps. Meanwhile, the elf-mage glared at her bowl, probably trying to turn it delicious by sheer willpower. It was a hopeless case. Everyone else tried to force that god-awful mess down their throats. The witch was nowhere to be found.
The sister, however, had other ideas. She took a bite then immediately resisted the urge to make a face, then asked the cook, her tone light. "Alistair, is this rabbit? It had a certain... texture I don't normally associate with rabbit."
Alistair paused eating to answer. "They didn't make rabbit stew for you in Lothering?"
"We ate simply there. Whole grains, made into biscuits or bread, and vegetables from the garden, cooked lightly. No heavy stews."
"Ah, so the last stew you had was probably cooked Orlesian style. Food shouldn't be frilly and pretentious like that. Now here in Ferelden, we do things right. We take our ingredients, throw them into the largest pot we can find, and cook them for as long as possible until everything is a uniform grey color. As soon as it looks completely bland and unappetizing, that's when I know it's done."
The two dwarves looked up at him with horror then at each other. Tabris looks like he's unsure whether to cry or laugh at Alistair's butchery of Fereldan cooking. Elissa knew it to be not all true but was too polite to say otherwise. Or busy, throwing small portions out of her bowl, while Alistair is still distracted.
Then Mahariel finished her task and walked up to the group. When she was served her bowl, she took one look at it and hissed "What is this?"
"Your dinner? You know, to eat?" Alistair answered.
"I know what dinner is, shemlen. I am asking, what. Is. This?" she said as she shook her bowl right under his nose.
Alistair said, with growing trepidation, "Food?"
She flung the bowl away. "No. It's sludge. You are asking me to eat sludge." She glared at him. "Next time, I will not give my hunts to you just so you can make a mockery of cooking it." She spun around and walked to her tent.
Alistair reeled, obviously hurt.
"Donna mind her, lad. Some people live on nothin but spite."
"Scenes like that is very common in Orlais, even if the food is really good. Like "Oh, the asparagus was undercooked. Behead the chef!" Lelianna said helpfully.
"Everyday, I'm thankful to be Fereldan," Tabris commented, his eyes watering.
Elissa went to Alistair's side. "Don't look so sad. We like your cooking well enough. Look." She waved to their bowls. Fortunately, most have clean bowls, though Neria's bowl is smoking. Amadeus was halfway to his and was about to push it away when Tabris nudged him. He looked up, saw Alistair's face and forced himself to finish it.
Alistair was cheered by the scene. "Oh, then if you like it, there's some more on the pot."