AN: Not sure if I posted a note about this already, but "Ferelden" refers to the kingdom, while "Fereldan" is the spelling for people from Ferelden. I may have switched around the two here and there by accident.
Chapter 21: Servants of the Qun
Anders heard the sound at the edge of his consciousness. It waxed and waned at regular intervals, each time almost pulling him from his sleep, but not quite. Then he heard it again, accompanied by a wretched wail that brought him immediately to his senses. From the loud feline yowl, he now recognized the earlier sound as scratching at the door. Anders bolted from the bed, then realized that he was completely naked. He quickly fished into the basket next to his bed and threw on a pair of underclothes before making his way to the door.
"Well hello to you, too," Anders murmured groggily as Mab sauntered past him as soon as the door was opened. She didn't bother to give him her customary meowed response and barely glanced his way before suddenly picking up speed and making a running leap onto his bed. Anders sighed and shook his head at the rather perturbed look she was giving him. He was just about to close the door, when the other one across the patio opened.
Anders blinked in surprise. He had expected Lanreth or Tieral to step onto the shared porch, but instead, a tired, disheveled Fenris walked into view, with his torso bare and his breeches resting low on his narrow hips. His right arm rested in the sling, but the strap was as uneven as the elf's hair.
Fenris froze when he saw the other man looking at him from the opposite door. Anders was silent and still as well, with one hand braced on the marble doorframe and the other clenched on the knob. Both men simply stared at each other for what seemed like an interminable length of time, until finally the blond apostate spoke.
"Good morning," Anders offered politely.
"Is your cat well?" Fenris asked as he gently closed the door behind him, his voice upon waking even deeper than normal. "She woke me with that dreadful noise."
"She is," Anders answered. Both men seemed lost in thought for a moment. This time, the elf broke the silence.
"You are wearing only your small clothes," Fenris muttered as his eyes raked over the mage's body. Anders blushed instantly, then frowned.
"Well, your breeches leave just as little to the imagination, so..." Anders let his voice trail off and brought his gaze up from Fenris's crotch to the elf's green eyes. "Not what I meant to say," the mage chided himself inwardly, though a part of him delighted in the subtle flush that now colored Fenris's tanned cheeks. The elf opened his mouth to say something, then reconsidered and just stomped forward. Anders stepped back from the doorway to allow Fenris to enter with plenty of room between them.
"I was worried about you," Anders said as he closed the door behind them.
"You're not my keeper," Fenris grumbled and kept his back turned. He made a big production of going through his clothing basket, but Anders suspected that the elf was only doing so to avoid eye contact.
"Fenris, it doesn't have to be this way," Anders sighed as he sat down on his bed next to Mab. She didn't move from her curled up position and allowed the mage to pet her without protest, though she refused to purr. "This is as much your room as it is mine. You shouldn't feel like you can't sleep here because of what happened between us-"
"You can stop right there, Anders. This isn't just about us... sleeping together," Fenris growled, though he still kept his back to the mage.
"Then what else is it about?"
"The Fog Warriors!" Fenris growled and finally turned around, his green eyes flashing. "I am here on Seheron, the place where I murdered the very people who wished to give me my freedom! And Braithe, the one man who should hate me more than any other, asked me to forgive him!"
"Perhaps it's because he understands that the past should remain in the past," Anders murmured, though the heat of the elf's reply caused the blond to avert his gaze momentarily.
"An easy platitude that solves nothing," Fenris muttered.
"I'm just trying to help," Anders added and turned back, his amber eyes growing wide with irritation.
"I seek neither help nor conversation!" Fenris shot back. "This is why I stayed with Lanreth and Tieral last night. I knew there was no way you would just let things rest in silence!"
"Fine!" Anders exploded, reaching his limit. "Stew in your own thoughts! Keep it all inside, what do I care!" He continued to shout, while pushing himself off the bed and standing with his fists clenched at his side. "If you feel like crushing yourself with years of guilt then be my guest!"
Mab raised her head and watched both men carefully. The mage snatched up a pair of breeches and began to yank them on.
"Keep to yourself and mind your own business, and things will be fine!" Fenris retorted, though he kept his voice low.
"Oh! Need to get the last word in, don't you?" Anders growled as he pulled at the laces to his breeches, but in his anger, he tied them too tight. With a grunt, he undid them and tried again. When he looked up again, he caught Fenris staring at his crotch. The elf's green eyes snapped back up to the mage's face a moment too late. The dark brows beneath the fringe of white hair furrowed at the smug look that broke out on the blond's face.
"What?" Fenris asked, ignoring the volumes being said by the expression Anders was giving him. The mage shook his head slowly.
"Unbelievable," Anders scoffed. "I got the same looks from Hawke, you know," the blond answered with a smirk.
"Do not mention Hawke! You don't even deserve to let his name fall from your lips!" Fenris warned and took a step toward the mage.
"Oh, because Hawke is so perfect!" Anders hissed and thumbed at the laces of his breeches. He delighted in the split second downward glance his movements garnered once more from the angry elf. "He's the one you should be angry at, not me!" The mage added with gritted teeth.
"Shut up, Anders!" Fenris shouted with a clenched fist. Anders was just about to shout back, but was brought up short by a loud knock at the door. He, Fenris, and Mab all turned their heads simultaneously at the sudden interruption.
"It's Adrian," the kenathari's voice reached their ears through the heavy door.
"Coming," Fenris answered gruffly.
"Is everything okay?" Adrian asked with a slightly raised brow as soon as the tanned elf opened the door.
"Yes," Fenris and Anders replied instantly as one. Judging from the look on his face, their swarthy mentor was hardly convinced by their abrupt answer, but he didn't press the issue. The wary expression shifted to one of excitement as Adrian clasped his hands in front of his chest.
"It's time for the long-delayed tour of the town!"
"And here is the heart of Meha-Shenaas," Adrian said to the viddathari as they entered a large clearing on the outskirts of town. The area was unpaved and full of massive stone mills and gigantic vats, along with dozens of workers and nearly as many beasts of burden. The group had already toured the docks, mason guild hall, weapon smithy, barracks, and market square. The latter had been in the physical center of Meha-Shenaas, and thus the kenathari's remark drew plenty of confused stares.
"We're nearly outside of the town!" Tieral protested.
"Ah, but coconuts are the lifeblood of our community, and here is where the majority of them are processed," Adrian explained as he gestured to the hustle and bustle behind him. A few of the busy Qunari waved at the viddathari, but most stayed focused on their various tasks. The majority of the workers were men and boys, who hauled buckets and baskets that were sized according to their bearers. The few women among the throng seemed to be in managerial positions, directing the flow of traffic between incoming wagons filled with the raw, husked fruit and those outgoing with the finished products, including oil and coconut milk.
"In fact, the very name of the town celebrates this," Adrian continued with a broad wave of his hands. "In the language of the Qun, 'meha' means 'coconut' and 'shenaas' means 'treasure'." As if to punctuate his statement, the gentle breeze shifted direction and carried the sweet scent of the town's namesake to all gathered before him.
"What was the name of the town back in the days of the Imperium?" Tieral asked before receiving a sharp jab in the side from Lanreth. "What's wrong with asking that?" The auburn-haired elf whispered harshly to his redheaded brother.
"It is a fair question," Adrian agreed, though he did not hide the frown on his face. "In those wretched times, this town was known as Elmindar," he answered, saying the former name as if it carried venom. A dark hand shot up from among the assembled viddathari.
"Yes Esteban?" Adrian asked as his eyes settled on the Rivaini boy.
"Does the old name mean the same thing as Meha-Shenaas, but in the language of Tevinter?"
"No," Adrian answered. The kenathari's jaws clenched for a moment, then he continued. "It was named after Magister Elmin, the founder of the town who put all of his slaves, including the half-elven ones he sired himself, to death when the Qunari liberated Seheron."
The viddathari were silent as they absorbed that information. When it was clear that no one wished to know anything more about Magister Elmin or his legacy, Adrian cleared his throat and steered the conversation back to the original theme.
"The coconuts that grow here are particularly rich in oil compared to those found elsewhere on Seheron, as well as Par Vollen," the kenathari stated proudly. "The oil has many uses, both industrial and personal. It is essential as a lubricant for the pulleys on our ships and wheels of our cannons. We use it to fuel our lamps and to make soap to cleanse our bodies. And last but not least, the fairer-skinned among us use it to soothe their skin from the ravages of the sun," Adrian remarked with wink toward Anders and Lanreth.
The playful look did much to lift the mood brought down by the discussion of Meha-Shenaas's past. At first, the blond Fereldan and the redheaded elf both winced at the reminder of their painful sunburns, but Anders and Lanreth couldn't help but grin at the gentle ripple of laughter from their fellow viddathari. The blond then snuck a glance at Fenris, who was smiling, but the expression hardened as soon as the green eyes caught sight of amber. Anders turned his gaze immediately back to their mentor.
"The oil used for industrial purposes is quite different than that marked for personal use," Adrian explained. "We call the processes 'dry' and 'wet', respectively. For the former, the dried flesh of coconuts is shredded and treated with a mixture of non-edible solvents, then pressed in stone mills to extract the oil." The viddathari watched as an ox-driver guided his beast around the nearest mill filled with the aforementioned white shreds. Glistening oil dripped continuously through a spigot into buckets that were periodically changed and taken away.
"For the wet process, the raw flesh is ground up and boiled, then left to cool overnight. The oil naturally separates from the water, giving us oil suitable to eat and apply to our skin by morning," Adrian remarked as he led the group toward a series of vats filled with simmering water and coconut.
"Unfortunately, the wet process yields far less oil per coconut than the dry, but we Qunari waste nothing. The fatty coconut meal that is left over is used to enrich the feed of our livestock..." Adrian explained, but Anders was paying less attention to the kenathari and more to the bare-chested workers who gleamed with sweat from the combined heat of the vats and the sun.
The feast for the eyes prompted Anders to think about certain other sweaty activities. Though the blond pretended to listen to the tour, his traitorous thoughts settled on Fenris and the memory of the infuriating elf's body pressed against his. Despite all wishes to the contrary, he stole another glance at the white-haired elf. Fenris was also ignoring their guide. The emerald eyes were filled with a look that Anders recognized instantly. Desire. Anders followed the elf's gaze to find him staring at a handsome brunet human with a deep tan. The mage experienced a deep flare of jealousy that instantly made him feel sick to the stomach from disbelief.
Anders chided himself on the ridiculous emotion. How could he be jealous at Fenris looking at another man? The brooding elf could rot in a blight for all he cared! Anders quickly reminded himself of Fenris's uncompromising bigotry, then exhaled slowly as a soothing wave of hatred washed over him. Hate was all that Fenris gave him, and thus the elf deserved the same in return. Anders turned away from the elf and resolved to pay more heed to Adrian's presentation.
"And now we come to the end of the tour," Adrian stated as the group stopped in front of a heavily guarded building with sturdy double doors set under a fine, pointed arch. Like the amphitheatre, there were remnants of sculptures that had been torn asunder.
"This was once a Chantry Hall in the days of the Imperium," Adrian explained with a sour look. "But as with all things on Seheron, it now serves a higher purpose," he added, his frown vanishing. "We stand before the Tamassalvaar, the Hall of the Tamassran."
"Shanedan kenathari and viddathari," one of the guards greeted impassively. Adrian greeted him in kind, prompting Meha-Shenaas's newest residents to do the same. This brought a fleeting smile to the soldier's face. He motioned to his compatriots, two of whom quickly took hold of the great iron rings set in the center of each door. There was barely any creaking as the massive doors were pulled outward to reveal a large alcove with more than enough room for the assembled guests. Marble benches lined the walls, while a wooden table piled high with fruits, nuts, and cured meats rested close to the second set of doors leading deeper into the Tamassalvaar.
"As mentioned before, each of you will meet with the Tamassran, who will determine your rightful place in our community. You will be seen according to your first names in the order of the Qunari alphabet. There is no telling how long this will take, given the highly individual evaluations, so food has been provided in case you miss the midday meal," Adrian explained before unfurling a thin scroll with names listed in the Qunari script. "Help yourself now if you're hungry," he motioned with his head to the table.
Esteban and Tieral didn't need to be told twice and were the first to rush forward. The former cabin boy still seemed nervous in the presence of his former assailant, but the enticing food worked wonders in helping him tolerate the close proximity. Esteban stacked as much onto his wooden plate that could fit, then scurried over to Anders just as Adrian announced Lanreth as the first viddathari to be seen.
"Would you like some?" The Rivaini boy asked, waving a dried piece of star fruit as he sat down next to the blond Fereldan.
"Actually, yes," Anders answered, and took the offering in hand. He could see Fenris past Esteban's shoulder, but the blond kept his eyes focused on his young friend. "So, what do you think you'll be?" Anders asked, eager for some small talk to keep his mind occupied while he awaited his turn.
"I've told you already!" Esteban exclaimed, though there was no heat behind the words, only excitement. "A tree climber and coconut gatherer!" He grinned from ear to ear.
"Ah yes, I remember now," Anders recalled with a genuine smile.
"What about you?" Esteban asked. The apostate's expression faltered.
"I have no idea," Anders answered as he again contemplated what he was good at in the absence of magic.
"Maybe you can be a gatherer, too," Esteban remarked with surprising clarity given the amount of food stuffed into his cheeks.
"I don't think so," Anders replied with a quick shake of his head.
"Are you scared of heights?" The boy asked with a raised brow.
"Not really, but all that swaying in the wind? No thanks," Anders chuckled.
"Well, whatever it is, I hope that the Tamassran finds you something that makes you happy," Esteban said, then offered Anders a slice of smoke ham.
"So do I," the apostate whispered before taking a bite of his food. He wasn't feeling nearly as optimistic, but Anders was loathe to dampen Esteban's enthusiasm. The mage gave the boy a soft smile and kept his misgivings to himself. Esteban set the plate down between them and the two friends settled into a companionable silence. Quiet conversations ebbed and flowed all around Anders, but none piqued his interest until he heard Tieral raise his voice.
"So, what did you get?" The auburn-haired elf asked anxiously. Anders turned his head to see that Lanreth had reappeared in the alcove with a big grin on his face.
"Assistant librarian," the redhead answered while Adrian called another of the viddathari for an audience with the Tamassran.
"That's perfect for you, brother!" Tieral exclaimed before giving him a big hug and returning the grin.
"He looks so different when he smiles," Esteban whispered to Anders and motioned with his eyes to Tieral.
"Don't we all," Anders whispered back, though his eyes were on Fenris, who was also smiling at the news from his redheaded friend. When Lanreth's eyes met Fenris's, the former's expression fell. Fenris raised a brow as the newly appointed librarian walked over to him and said a few words that wiped the smile from Fenris's face. Anders was too far away to hear what had been said to his reluctant roommate, but when Lanreth turned and walked toward the meal table, he got up and followed suit.
"Congratulations, Lanreth. That really is a fitting occupation for you," Anders remarked as he grabbed a plate right after the elf. He wasn't really that hungry after eating what Esteban had shared, but he wanted to appear as casual as possible.
"Thank you, Anders. It's... well, it's like a dream come true," Lanreth said with a shake of his head before picking up a sliver of papaya. "It's something I wanted to do back in Kirkwall..." his voice trailed off and his eyes hardened a bit at some distant memory.
"But...?" Anders coaxed gently.
"I tried to offer my services to various households in Hightown that I knew had extensive book collections, but I was turned away from them all. Most sought only manual labor, while the remainder were only interested in what services I could render in bed. No one in Kirkwall was much interested in an elf like me," Lanreth explained.
"Their loss," the Fereldan remarked and gave his friend a gentle nudge. "How did you get to be so well-read?" Anders asked while picking up a thin slice of what he hoped was chicken. When Lanreth failed to answer at first, he looked up and quickly added, "I hoped I didn't offend you. I've known other well-read elves."
"All mages no doubt," Lanreth whispered with a bitter tone. Anders recoiled just a bit, but then schooled his features back into a neutral expression.
"Um, well..." Anders thought about it and realized that all the elves he knew who were as interested in literature as Lanreth were indeed mages.
"I've always hated them," the redheaded elf whispered to Anders, who blinked in surprise.
"Why?" Anders managed to ask with a clear voice, though his blood had run cold.
"Because they're taught how to read and write from an early age. Because they're surrounded by books and scrolls, all of which are provided to them for free," Lanreth hissed. He looked over at Adrian to make sure the kenathari wasn't privy to their conversation on such a taboo topic for the Qunari.
"It's not all fun and games and reading for pleasure," Anders muttered.
"Anders!" Justice's voice boomed in his head.
"Or so I've heard!" The apostate quickly amended with a nervous smile. The angry look on Lanreth's face softened just a bit, and then fell away completely with a long sigh.
"You're right," the elf whispered. "They are cursed after all," Lanreth continued, before sighing once more. "Perhaps 'hate' is the wrong word. It would be more accurate to say..." the elf lowered his voice even more, "that I'm jealous." At the wary look on his friend's face, Lanreth added, "not of their power or connection to the Fade, of course. Just the books."
"Of course," Anders echoed with a wan smile.
"I suppose I was lucky enough for an elf," Lanreth said with a shrug. "Tieral and I learned to read from Sister Elise, a Chantry nun who ran a clinic in the Alienage when we were teens."
"There was a clinic in the Alienage back then?" Anders asked in surprise. Lanreth nodded, prompting the blond to ask, "what became of it?"
"When Sister Elise left to become a missionary in Rivain, no one else stepped up to run the place. That's one reason why I never dedicated myself to the Chant of Light," Lanreth muttered. "While I respect Sister Elise for all she did, the fact that none of her sisters or brothers in the faith were willing to continue her work in the Alienage proved to me how much elven souls were really worth to the Chantry."
"The Chantry is full of hypocrites of the worst order," Anders murmured. Lanreth shrugged again.
"At least Sister Elise left me some of her books, though I read through them all in less than a week."
"Then how..."
"Tieral and I worked at the docks to make ends meet. Book shipments were easy enough to steal a volume or two from without anyone raising a big fuss," Lanreth explained with a slight blush coloring his freckled cheeks. "I wasn't proud of it, but reading helped make my life bearable."
"Well, your fortunes have certainly changed," Anders said, smiling with a bit more conviction this time.
"So it has." Lanreth beamed when he saw no judgement of his actions evident on his friend's face. "I had always assumed that the Qunari were all warriors, given the ones we knew in Kirkwall. I never thought about how that was just one segment of their society that had been cut off from a larger whole. To be a part of this... it's a blessing I never dreamed of," he added.
"I know what you mean," Anders lied, before glancing over at Fenris and remembering the original reason for following Lanreth to the meal table. "What did you say to Fenris earlier?"
"Braithe is in there with the Tamassran. I thought Fenris deserved a bit of warning."
"Ah," Anders nodded. He was about to add more, but then Adrian called out his name.
"Anders, the Tamassran will see you next," the kenathari announced.
"Oh, I'm sure Tieral won't let this go to waste," Anders remarked and offered his plate to Lanreth.
"You know him well," the redhead said with a smirk and took the plate in his other hand. "Good luck with your evaluation," he added.
"Thanks," Anders replied before taking a deep breath and walking over to Adrian's side. The Rivaini man smiled then clapped him on the shoulder. The sunburned blond yelped in pain.
"Oh! My apologies! I forgot!" Adrian exclaimed.
"It's okay," Anders assured his mentor. He tried to smile, but it looked more like a feral warning due to his gritted teeth. He waited a moment for the pain to die down, then entered the inner sanctum of the Tamassarvaal.
Anders remembered a work of art he had seen years ago entitled, "The Tevinter Chantry." He had come across it in Amaranthine when he had visited the home of a wealthy merchant who had caught his eye. The painting had portrayed the inside of an Imperial Chantry Hall in exquisite detail. In fact, the piece had left a far greater impression on Anders than the merchant, whose name had been long forgotten. So taken was the former Grey Warden with the painting, that he could still envision it clearly in his mind, despite the length of time since that single viewing. The powerful memory led Anders to imagine his current surroundings with an overlay of images from the Chantry Hall's Imperial past contrasted with its Qunari present.
The long, well-polished teakwood pews he had seen in the painting remained, but gone were the ornate hanging tapestries lined with matching peacock feathers. The soothing melange of greens and blues flecked with gold had been replaced by the stark red swaths of Qunari flags as wide as a man was tall. Instead of the multicolored stained glass framed in silver and lapis lazuli tilework, the windows now held translucent, frosted glass that was reinforced by horizontal steel bars.
Anders recalled with startling clarity the large marble statues of Andraste and Hessarian, the Imperial Archon who converted to the Chant of Light after killing the Bride of the Maker to end her suffering at the burning stake. The paired sculptures had stood prominently at the very front of the pews, on either side of a tall oak pulpit. Now the pulpit was nowhere to be seen, and only the lower halves of two broken statues remained.
People had been conspicuously absent in "The Tevinter Chantry." Anders assumed it was the artist's aim to focus all attention on the inanimate objects that breathed life into such a religious space. However, the imposing figure of the Tamassran seated on the raised dais ahead of him brought Anders back to the here and now. All those details he remembered from the painting long ago faded in the face of the priestess's golden-eyed stare.
"Shanedan viddathari," the Tamassran greeted him. To her left, off of the dais, stood Braithe, who greeted Anders in the same manner. Opposite the blond elf, to the priestess's right, was a horned Qunari warrior dressed somewhat similarly to Sten, but with two swords resting in the dark, nearly black leather scabbards hanging from his belt. The only greeting given by the horned guard was a barely perceptible nod in the viddathari's general direction.
"Welcome to the Tamassarvaal, Elf-Savior," the Tamassran said with a smile, though her gaze was more piercing than warm. "That was quite a daring escape that you orchestrated from the slave ship."
"Thank you," Anders replied, though his voice was a bit hesitant under the priestess's cold appraisal.
"Tell me," the Tamassran began with narrowed eyes, "what would you have done if the Ataash had not been there to force the retreat of the slavers."
"I..." Anders gulped. "I am not entirely sure. I... didn't plan everything through."
"That is evident," the Tamassran agreed. "Action without forethought is not the way of the Qun."
"I couldn't stand idly by while the elves were locked away in the cargo hold," Anders protested, though he kept his tone respectful.
"And so you would free them from their bonds only to risk their lives against better-armed adversaries?" The Tamassran asked with a raised brow, her triangle pendant glinting in the light.
"It was their choice to take up arms once they were freed," Anders replied, finding renewed strength in his voice as he imagined not only the plight of the elven slaves on the Osprey, but also the de facto enslavement of mages by the Chantry.
"A choice, you say?" The Tamassran asked rhetorically, though her expression shifted from mild disdain to one that was difficult to discern. Perhaps anticipation? Anders remembered the drakestone and sela petrae, and his willingness to use them in the pursuit of freedom. He straightened his posture and stood tall with his shoulders back.
"The choice to die on their knees or to perish on their feet," Anders answered.
"Some would say that such a choice is not really one at all!" The priestess remarked with a harsh tone and her eyes flashed. She leaned forward and her hands gripped the armrests of her chair tightly. Anders resisted the instinct to shrink from her gaze and met the Tamassran's eyes of molten gold with ones of steadfast amber.
"A life without freedom is a life not worth living," Anders replied with a zealous gleam in his eye as he imagined the Kirkwall Chantry exploding into nothingness.
"Ah," the Tamassran remarked with a smile and leaned back into her chair. She let go of her chair's armrests and laced her fingers. "You are fond of cats, yes?" She asked out of the blue.
"Um... yes. Yes, I am," Anders replied, somewhat startled by the abrupt change of topic.
"But you are from Ferelden?" The Tamassran tilted her head slightly and studied the sunburned blond closely.
"I am indeed," Anders replied, wondering what the the priestess was getting at.
"I was led to believe that in the Kingdom of Ferelden, dogs are held in the greatest esteem," the Tamassran stated. "Not cats."
"I'm not like most Fereldans," Anders replied with a shrug. "I've always preferred cats, though I did name my cat after the mabari hounds of Ferelden, because honestly, she acts a lot like a dog sometimes, which is a bit of a paradox, because I'm more of a cat person, but I've bonded with her so well. Not that I always name my cats after dogs, mind you. The cat I had before her was named Ser Pounce-a-lot..." his voice trailed off when he realized he was rambling an awful lot like Merrill.
"I see," the Tamassran said with a slightly bemused expression, then turned to Braithe. The one-armed elf cleared his throat and held up a sheet of parchment.
"According to the report from Sten and Vasravaan of the Ataash, the cat you brought aboard was responsible for wiping out the ship's entire infestation of rats in a matter of two weeks. She was obedient to a fault and was trained to lead sailors back to rat nests that she discovered," Braithe announced while skimming through sections of the report in his hand.
"I wouldn't exactly call her obedient," Anders thought to himself, then said aloud, "she's been good to have around."
"We happen to have many cats here," Braithe mentioned, taking his eyes off the parchment to look directly at Anders.
"So I've noticed," Anders agreed with a genuine smile.
"Do you believe that your rapport with one cat might extend to many?" The Tamassran asked.
"Um, maybe?" Anders answered while fiddling with his ponytail stump. When he realized the nervous action, he abruptly dropped his hand and answered, "I think it's really up to the cats, but I do believe that they can tell when you're a cat person and act accordingly."
"I've seen this theory in action," the Tamassran replied with a nod. She turned to Braithe with a somber expression, then looked back at Anders. "It seems this evaluation will be one of the easier ones," she added. "One of the victims of the leopard attacks prior to my journey to Par Vollen was the town's assistant terenbasvaraad."
"Sorry to hear that," Anders gave his condolences, then scratched his head. "The teren-what?" he asked, though he recognized the Qunari term for "cat" within the larger word.
"Assistant cat-handler," the Tamassran answered. "The cat handler and assistant cat handler are two of the few designations equally appropriate for both women and men," she explained. "Vasravaan and Sten of the Ataash both marveled at the connection you possess with the black cat of yours. The leader of that ship's soldiers is particularly hard to please," the Tamassran added with a smirk.
"Well, I am honored to care for the town's cats!" Anders exclaimed with a wide grin, having never imagined that something more akin to a hobby could be a full-fledged occupation on Seheron.
"It is not an easy role," the Tamassran warned with a stern look. "As ships anchor in our harbor, it will be your task to help evaluate the health of the ship's cats, replace them as needed from the local population, as well as cull any who are ill before the disease can spread."
"Oh," Anders replied, the big grin on his face falling away at the mention of culling sick cats. Still, unlike people, he would be able to discreetly heal them with magic without any of his patients divulging his secret. "I'm ready for the challenge," he added.
"So be it," the Tamassran stated, then turned to Braithe. The elf nodded and set aside the large sheet of parchment onto a nearby table, and picked up a smaller sheet about a quarter of the size.
"You are to report immediately to the docks. Present this to the harbormistress," Braithe held out the small sheet, with the written side facing Anders. It held the unfamiliar script of the Qunari alphabet in red ink. "She will then guide you to the Terenbasvaraad so that you can begin your service to the Qun."
"Thank you," Anders replied, stepping closer to Braithe and taking the sheet in hand.
"Your kenathari and closest associates may call you by your birth name," the Tamassran said, drawing the blond Fereldan's eyes back to her. "However, from this day forth, you will be known to the community at large as Aten-terenbasvaraad."
"You look happy," Fenris remarked without thinking as Anders walked by. The smile that was plastered over the blond's face vanished in an instant.
"As if you care," Anders remarked coldly. Fenris replied with a grunt, then looked away. The apostate didn't move, but just stood there without saying anything further. The elf could see Anders in the corner of his eye, but pretended he wasn't there. A hush fell over the entire gathering, as the other viddathari ceased their conversations and observed the silent pair . Finally, Fenris could take the awkwardness no longer and turned in his seat to look up at the blond.
"Yes?" The snow-haired elf asked with a clipped tone. Fenris's face was a mask of indifference that was mirrored by Anders. Dark amber eyes held his gaze until the blond sighed softly and shrugged.
"Nothing," Anders said as he shook his head, then walked over to Esteban. Fenris watched as the mage's expression lightened instantly once the blond began to babble about his new duties to his young friend. The hum of conversations picked back up as Fenris studied the fair man and swarthy boy. He couldn't hear much, but he thought he heard a mention or two about cats. When he looked away, he found Lanreth looking right at him. There was a questioning look in the blue eyes, but Fenris only scowled and averted his gaze. He glanced back over to where Esteban and Anders had been talking, only to find that the sunburned blond had already left the building.
"Tieral, you're next," Adrian announced. The auburn-haired elf gave his brother a nervous look , then got up and followed the kenathari. Lanreth and Fenris both watched him go, then the redhead set his plate down and approached Fenris.
"Not a word about Anders," Fenris warned even before Lanreth had a chance to sit down next to the brooding elf.
"I wouldn't dream of it!" Lanreth exclaimed with a lilt of laughter in his voice. Fenris glowered at him, but the redhead's grin remained.
"Your expression says otherwise," Fenris muttered.
"Then pick a topic, any topic, and we'll chat about that," Lanreth offered, patting Fenris on the shoulder.
"I'd rather not talk at all."
"Even if it might help to take your mind off of you know who," Lanreth stated with a pointed look and a slight nudge with his elbow. Fenris sighed.
"What do you think Tieral's role will be?" The still-brooding elf asked.
"I hope a warrior for his sake," Lanreth replied with a sigh. "Ever since he saw his first elf in Qunari battle-paint, it's been 'warrior' this and 'soldier' that nonstop."
"He didn't mention it at all when I slept over last night," Fenris said with a raised brow. Lanreth's smile fell and he blinked in surprise, but said nothing. "What?" The white-haired elf asked.
"Well... I told him not to talk about it when you were around," Lanreth explained after a bit of hesitation.
"And why is that?" Fenris asked. Lanreth shrugged.
"You can probably guess why," the redhead murmured.
"Enlighten me," Fenris urged with furrowed brows. Lanreth sighed.
"You're even more fit to be a soldier of the Qun than Tieral. But I've seen the way that Sten looks at you. I don't know the whole story, but you two know each other from before, don't you?"
"We do," Fenris admitted with a somber nod.
"It often seems as if he would like nothing more than to crush your skull with that ridiculously large hammer of his," Lanreth remarked. "I didn't think all the scowls between you two were a coincidence."
"And so you think my chances of becoming a warrior in the service of the Qun are slim," Fenris stated, rather than asked.
"Sorry," Lanreth admitted with a sheepish nod. "Who knows, though? Even if Sten is the leader of the town guard, perhaps he can overlook the past? The Qunari seem to put a lot of stock in that idea."
"They also put a lot of stock in honor. That scar of his..." Fenris traced a finger across his own face.
"You put it there?" Lanreth interjected in surprise. His eyes grew wide when Fenris nodded.
"Yes, after sneaking up on him while he was wounded. Not very honorable, that. Combined with the fact that I betrayed Braithe and Enric, I'd wager that Sten wants me dead. And to be honest, part of me would welcome it, as it's exactly what I deserve."
"Fenris!" Lanreth hissed. When the other viddathari turned their way, the redheaded elf lowered his voice, but his eyes remained angry. "Don't talk like that! I don't care what anyone says! You are a hero! The Tamassran was right. Who we were in the past means nothing compared to who are today. Embrace that Fenris!"
"And so the blood of those I killed doesn't demand vengeance?" Fenris growled under his breath. "What if someone killed Tieral and then later pledged service to the Qun? Would you be so quick to forgive your brother's murderer? Could you truly leave such a thing in the past?"
"But..." Lanreth hesitated, but his eyes remained obstinate. "But I know you, Fenris. Whatever happened back then, it couldn't have been all your fault!"
"You don't know me nearly as well as you think you do," Fenris muttered. Lanreth sighed again, but chose to drop the argument. Both elves remained until Tieral walked back out.
"Well?" Lanreth urged his brother to spill the news.
"I am officially the newest member of the town guard!" Tieral cheered and rushed over to give his brother a hug, while Adrian called another viddathari, this time one of the women, for her evaluation. When the elves released their embrace, Lanreth reached up and placed both palms on the sides of Tieral's head. He leaned forward and gently rested his forehead on his brother's. "You were born for this. Mother and Father, bless their souls, would be so proud. Whatever the excuses of the Kirkwall guard, we know their reason for rejecting your application had nothing to do with your skill with a blade or your fortitude."
"If you're implying that Kirkwall's Captain of the Guard holds a grudge against elves, you're wrong," Fenris stated gruffly. "I know Aveline. She is not like that."
"And how many elves do you recall in Kirkwall's guard?" Tieral muttered in irritation and pulled away from his brother. When Fenris had no answer, the auburn-haired elf narrowed his eyes. "See, exactly."
"Perhaps she was under political pressure from Seneschal Bran. But even if the Captain of the Guard was guiltless, the mandate for keeping elves out of the guard was clear," the redheaded elf remarked, hoping to mollify both his brother and his friend.
"Perhaps," Tieral and Fenris replied in unison, drawing a hint of a smile from both of the brooding elves.
"My apologies. I didn't wish to trample on your moment," Fenris said before adding, "congratulations."
"Thank you Fenris," Tieral replied with more kindness than usual, clearly tempering his words in the face of someone with less certain prospects.
"When do you start your training?" Lanreth asked, prompting his brother to turn back to him.
"Actually, I need to go now," Tieral beamed. "There's just one thing..." the auburn-haired elf's happy expression faded.
"What is it?" Lanreth asked.
"We won't be roommates any longer," Tieral said with a slight frown. At the confused look on his brother's face, he added, "I have to move into the barracks."
"Oh... well, that's fine," Lanreth remarked with a smile that seemed a bit forced.
"Wait..." Tieral scratched his chin and turned to Fenris with a smile. The lyrium-branded elf raised a brow. "Since he and Anders aren't getting along, Fenris can be your roommate."
"What do you think, Fenris?" Lanreth looked at his friend expectantly.
"I'd like that," Fenris replied with a smile.
"Fenris, the Tamassran will see you now," Adrian announced, reading from the list of viddathari in hand. Most of them had since departed, including Lanreth and Tieral, as well as Esteban. Fenris dusted off his breeches, more from habit than necessity, then stood and followed the kenathari through the archway. He barely noticed the changes in the former Imperial Chantry Hall wrought by the Qunari. He glanced at Braithe for a fleeting moment and also noticed a horned guard, but for the most part, Fenris's eyes remained on the spiritual leader of Meha-Shenaas as he walked down the central aisle between the pews. The Tamassran's golden-eyed gaze shifted downward as the elf reached the edge of the dais. He sank to one knee with his emerald eyes lowered.
"I humbly kneel before the vessel of the Qun," Fenris intoned. His supplication was greeted with silence. He lifted his eyes to find a slight smirk on the Tamassran's face.
"Your courtesy is well-received," the priestess replied. She shared a quick look with the one-armed elf at her side, then returned her gaze to Fenris. "However, know that when you address someone in such a manner, maintaining eye contact conveys greater respect," she added.
"My apologies," Fenris said quickly.
"No need in this case. Though you are far more adept in our ways than your peers, you are viddathari," the Tamassrain remarked. "Still, you are quite the special case," she mused as her golden eyes traced over the silver lines on the elf's body. "I know what you are," the priestess added as her expression hardened slightly.
"I cannot excuse my actions, regardless of the forgiveness extended to me by Braithe," Fenris replied, forcing himself not to look at the blond elf.
"I do not speak of that," the Tamassran stated with a slightly raised brow. Fenris blinked, then took a deep breath as he attempted to guess the trajectory of the conversation.
"I slew several Qunari in the service of my master-"
"Former master," the priestess interrupted him with a stern voice. Fenris nodded and gulped. He worried the corner of his lower lip for a moment, but before he could continue on that note, the Tamassran shook her head.
"I speak not of what you did in the past. I speak of what you are."
"I'm not following."
"You are a Lyrium Ghost," the Tamassran answered with an appraising stare.
"I beg your pardon," Fenris replied. "A what?"
"A Lyrium Ghost," she repeated somberly. "A living weapon harkening to the final, desperate days of ancient Elvenhan."
"But these marks were placed on me by my m-" Fenris caught himself and amended, "former master, Danarius."
"Using a process he no doubt discovered through research on the final war between Elvenhan and the Imperium," the Tamassran answered.
"There were others like me?" Fenris asked with widened eyes.
"Oh yes. Quite a few," the Tamassran replied.
"The elves... did this to their own kind?" Fenris's heart began to beat faster and he broke out into a cold sweat.
"They did."
"Then Elvenhan deserved to fall!" Fenris growled, his eyes flashing in anger as the memory of the lyrium being burned into his flesh assaulted him.
"Do no be so quick to judge, Fenris," the Tamassran urged him with a look of pity.
"These... these markings... were seared into my flesh by the most vile magic imaginable! The pain was so great that it tore my memories away!" Fenris hissed, struggling to keep his voice down in the Tamassran's presence.
"I cannot excuse what they did, but keep in mind that it was in response to the imminent conquest of the elven homeland," the Tamassran interjected, her voice still calm and collected.
"And did it work? No!" Fenris remarked with a bitter laugh. "It was all for naught save for a wretched legacy uncovered by the descendants of their sworn enemies!"
"I have full faith that the Lyrium Ghosts could have tipped the balance in favor of the elves, had it not been for the fell machinations of the Demon Warriors," the Tamassran replied, her own voice raising slightly.
"Of course. With all of the demons at the beck and call of the Imperium, how could the outcome ever have been in doubt?" Fenris asked with gritted teeth.
"I speak not of the demons that fought for the Imperium. I speak of those who fought for the elves." The Tamassran's eyes flashed.
"To parlay with demons is to seal your doom," Fenris growled.
"My thoughts, exactly," the Tamassran said with a triumphant look. "But the Demon Warriors of the elves were even more pernicious than those in the service of the Imperium. They hid behind names alluding to virtues, but all creatures of the Fade are cut from the same cloth. They convinced some of the most influential military leaders of Elvenhan to willingly become abominations," the priestess hissed the last word, causing a visible shudder to run down Fenris's body. "This caused a great schism in elven society, with those allied with the Lyrium Ghosts on one side, and those held in thrall by the Demon Warriors on the other."
"How do you know all this?" Fenris asked, the rage in his voice tempered by a sudden, inexplicable wave of sadness.
"After the destruction of their homeland, the elves who were not captured by the marauding Imperial armies fled in all directions... including Seheron," the Tamassran explained. "There are ruins, deep in the jungle and high in the mountains where Qunari explorers have uncovered pieces of history that had been brought over by the elven refugees. Combined with research left behind by Imperial scholars after Seheron's liberation, the story of Elvenhan's fall took shape."
"Who knows. Maybe it was the lesser of two evils that won the war," Fenris mused while staring at the lyrium brands on his bare forearms.
"Perhaps. Though, know this. The elves who bore your markings did their best to thwart the Demon Warriors of Elvenhan. When a supposed alliance was forged between the two factions, it was the Lyrium Ghosts who reneged on the terms and struck down the abominations," the Tamassran said while raising a clenched fist.
"The Lyrium Ghosts betrayed them?" Fenris asked, with an odd note to his voice.
"To turn from the enticement of demons is not a betrayal, but an affirmation of all that is right and good within mortalkind," the Tamassran intoned. "The Lyrium Ghosts represented the best hope for Elvenhan. They remained stalwart in the face of overwhelming odds. They understood that if they had put their trust in the Demon Warriors, even if they had won the war, they would have lost their very souls to an enemy far greater. Their legacy is anything but wretched, Fenris."
"I defer to the wisdom of those better versed in history." Fenris kneeled, though this time he maintained eye contact with the Tamassran. She nodded, then shared a glance with Braithe.
"Now that you understand what you are, we need to establish what you will be."
"I will be whatever is commanded of me," Fenris stated firmly.
"And you have no thoughts on the matter?" The Tamassran asked, though her look was far from questioning.
"None that I think will carry much weight," Fenris replied, trying his best to not sound surly, but failing miserably.
"Given ideal circumstances, what would you wish for your role in Meha-Shenaas to be?" The Tamassran pressed. Fenris chewed his lip for a moment, then stood tall.
"I would be as I have always been. A warrior," the lyrium-branded elf stated firmly.
"A former enemy of the Qun would now pledge his service to it?" The Tamassran narrowed her eyes.
"I would," Fenris nodded firmly, then added, "I have."
"But what of trust? Do you think your fellow soldiers could trust you? What of Sten, who would be your commander?" The Tamassran's golden gaze was piercing.
"I... I am..." Fenris stumbled over his words. "I long to have a sword in my hands again. These long days without one have reminded me that I am nothing if not a warrior."
"And yet you can understand if I do not bestow a position in the town guard given your history with Sten," the priestess remarked. Fenris sighed and his shoulders slumped.
"Yes, I understand."
"Have you anything else to say before your role is designated?" The Tamassran leaned forward, her hands gripping the armrests of her chair tightly.
"No..." Fenris's voice trailed off as he looked away, but then he blinked and looked back up. "Yes, I do."
"Go on."
"Despite everything I did in the past, the people I have killed in cold-blood, the grief I have heaped upon those undeserving of it..." Fenris paused and glanced at Braithe, "the Qunari have shown me far greater compassion than I could ever have imagined." He took a deep breath and continued. "I do not deserve your charity, but I am humbled by it. I nearly became a slave again were it not for your people," he added, sinking to his knees. "I would have them be my people. I am forever in your debt. I will do whatever is commanded of me and I will do it to the best of my ability."
"I see," the Tamassran said, pushing herself up from her chair. Her expression was inscrutable. She shared another look with Braithe, then stepped behind her chair and picked up a large burlap sack. "Rise Fenris," she commanded. As he did as he was bidden, the Tamassran tossed the sack his way. He caught it with his free hand, then blinked in confusion at the clink of metal within. He set the sack down and looked inside.
"My armor," Fenris whispered. He stared at the familiar pieces of his feathered, dark-grey armor, then looked up to the Tamassran.
"I take it you thought that was lost for good?" The priestess smirked. Fenris nodded. She motioned to Braithe. "He identified it for me."
"It was part of the bounty plundered from the slave ship the Ataash freed you from," Braithe explained with a huge grin. "I didn't recognize the feathers you added to it, but I'd know that suit of armor anywhere!"
"I don't understand," Fenris mumbled, his mind racing with possibilities, yet plagued with doubts. "Am I to serve under Sten, despite his distaste for me?"
"No," the Tamassran shook her head. Fenris's brows furrowed in confusion, but the priestess smiled in response. "You will not serve under him. You will serve under me."
"Congratulations, Fenris," Braithe exclaimed with a huge grin.
"I still don't understand." The white-haired elf glanced down at his armor, then back at the Tamassran.
"All tamassrans are entitled to an esaad and an esaaren. Personal bodyguards. One for the day, one for the night," the priestess said, before motioning to the guard to her right. "He is Esaaren. My night guard. However, as you can see, it is still day," she remarked, glancing at the light streaming through the barred windows. "I have never officially bestowed the position of esaad on anyone. Esaaren has extended his duties on occasion, but generally I've been served by various guards appointed by Sten. I've found none worthy of the official title of Esaad," she explained. "Until now."
"But my arm. I am right-handed and-"
"And you are a Lyrium Ghost, Fenris," the Tamassran interjected. "Your arm has no doubt healed enough for you to remove the splints and sling."
"What of Martus?" Fenris asked, imagining the surly healer's displeasure.
"I give you permission to disregard Martus's orders," she smirked.
"I... I don't know what to say..." Fenris murmured, though he shrugged the sling off and freed his right arm.
"I think 'anaan esaam Qun' is a good place to start," the Tamassran replied with a smirk.
"Anaan esaam Qun!" Fenris immediately answered, to which the Tamassran, Braithe, and Esaaren replied in kind.
"As Esaad, you are to carry a weapon on your person at all times. In the vestibule behind us is a collection of them, including several taken from the slave ship. Take your pick, then return to my side as Esaad so that Esaaren may take his leave," the Tamassran commanded.
"Tamassran..." Fenris's eyes grew damp, though no tears fell. "You honor me with this chance at a new life."
"It is fitting that one who served the Imperium has found true purpose in the Qun. Our community is stronger from the inclusion of viddathari such as yourself, as well as your Ferelden friend," she added. Fenris immediately stiffened and looked away. He said something under his breath, but it was too soft to hear.
"What was that?" The Tamassran asked. "Speak up."
"I..." Fenris hesitated, his eyes full of worry.
"Esaad... I ask is that you trust in me as I now trust in you. Tell me what is troubling you," the Tamassran urged. "Does it concern your blond companion?" She raised a brow at the subtle nod from the white-haired elf. Fenris looked away again for a moment, then took a deep breath and met her gaze.
"There is something I must tell you..."