Running
Leonie turned to Nathaniel with a puzzled frown. "You are quite right, Nathaniel. Where were they?" she asked in voice gone shaky with the realization that there had been no hint of darkspawn on the way back to the doors.
Anders shrugged, looking faintly anxious. "I didn't even sense any, now that I think about it," he chimed in.
Loghain frowned. "What happened?"
Nathaniel spoke up as Leonie found herself momentarily at a loss. What had happened? Blood did not move on its own, did not give off a faint glow. She rubbed her temples as she listened to Nathaniel's grim recounting of the events. They had encountered groups of darkspawn as they made their way from the Keep and none on their return trip. Was it simply that they had cleared them all on their way out, leaving none remaining for their return? That was certainly possible, she supposed. Yet she had not felt a single darkspawn on the way back, not one. She could not recall a trip into the Deep Roads when she hadn't felt the relentless pull of blood that meant darkspawn were nearby, even if the pull was more of a suggestion because the darkspawn were far away. She had always felt some indication of their presence. Until the trip back to the barrier doors.
Loghain was standing in front of her, studying her with his shrewd blue eyes, waiting for a response to a question she had clearly not heard. She blinked and gave a shrug, embarrassed that she had missed what he'd said.
"What did you hear that the others didn't?" he asked, impatience edging the concern in his voice, making it obvious that he had asked the question more than once.
What had she heard? A fleeting song, so beguiling she had felt the need to put down her weapons and listen, to follow it, and yet somehow it seemed to have come from within her own head. Words she could not comprehend, wrapping around music that was as sweet and mystifying as the Choir of the Divine's chant but unearthly in its beauty.
"I do not know, Loghain. My head started aching so fiercely that I cannot be sure," she whispered the lie and wondered why she had not just told him.
"You must have some idea," he persisted, his scowl settling comfortably into familiar lines.
Leonie scrubbed at her temples, the remnants of a headache tapping impatiently at her brain. She was vaguely aware that Nathaniel and Anders were staring at her as well, all of them waiting for an answer. What did she say to them? Even in her own mind the answer was too frightening to contemplate, too outlandish to be true. And her fear, her confusion, must have shown on her face because Loghain's hands were on her shoulders, light and comforting. A reassurance that he was there, that they would face the truth together. Easy for him to feel reassuring, it was her mind that was breaking, not his. Because surely that must be the explanation. She was going mad.
"A song. I heard the most beautiful song I have ever heard," she finally said and the words, once released from their prison, served to lessen the fear. "The sound of a choir, words I could not understand," she continued in a rush.
She wouldn't look at any of them, keeping her head lowered as she stepped away from Loghain's reassuring touch and began to make her way to the Keep. Mad. Or worse, her Calling coming to her. She didn't speak those words, did not want to give them credence and so they remained thoughts and fears to be kept under lock and key for the moment.
"Now, we have a Joining ritual to prepare for, do we not?" she added over her shoulder. Maker, let me get through this Joining.
The Wardens gathered in the throne room and Leonie watched as a slightly nervous Jarren and a very serene Travis came to stand before her. She nodded to Varel, who handed her the chalice. Loghain was standing on her right, offering a silent, solid presence, lending her the strength to begin the Joining. Her talk with Anders and Nathaniel while they were in the Deep Roads, along with her experience there, left her feeling unusually unsure of herself and the Grey Wardens, a feeling that was as foreign as it was unwelcome.
Now was not the time for second guessing her life choice. She pushed the thoughts aside, concentrating on the two men standing before her. She stared down at the mixture of lyrium, darkspawn blood, and one drop of preserved Archdemon blood. The question of how the first Wardens had discovered it rose up again; a specter rising from the mist that momentarily robbed her of speech.
She became aware of the nervous shifting of her Wardens as they waited for her to say something. She looked at each of them solemnly, took a deep breath. Whatever the future, whatever the past, darkspawn threatened mankind. That fact was indisputable, undeniable. That had not changed, no matter what else may have. The two species could not co-exist, it was not just against their basic natures, it meant a painful death to those who would try. Her duty stretched out a beckoning hand to her. She cleared her throat and began to speak.
"Over twelve hundred years ago, when the world stood on the brink of annihilation, men and women of all races joined together to protect the lands of mankind. They sacrificed everything to do so. We honor their sacrifices by joining their company, by performing this sacred duty. As long as there are darkspawn who spread their foul taint, there will be Grey Wardens, protecting all that we hold dear.
"Join us brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten. And that one day we shall join you.
"Jarren Tabris, I call upon you to submit yourself to the taint and join us as a Grey Warden," she finished solemnly, handing Jarren the cup.
His fingers were surprisingly steady as he brought the chalice to his lips and drank deeply. Loghain moved quietly to stand behind him. A deep shudder ran through the elf mage, followed by a stifled cry as he clutched his throat. Leonie found she wasn't breathing, that her heart was beating too quickly as Jarren fell backward, eyes rolling.
Loghain lowered him to the ground and nodded. "He'll live." A relieved sigh swept through the gathered Wardens, none louder than her own.
"Travis, step forward and join us, Brother," she said and held the chalice out to him. Her hands were trembling slightly and he gave her a sympathetic smile, adding an odd reassuring clucking noise to it. "From this day forth, you are a Grey Warden."
With a slight bow, he lifted the chalice to his lips and drank. Leonie took the chalice and forced herself to continue watching as he gave a low growl and sank to his knees. One eye seemed to remain on her and the other shut is a macabre wink as he shivered. He curled up after a brief hesitation and both eyes closed. In all her Joining ceremonies, she had never seen a reaction quite like that and she moved quickly to kneel beside him, searching for and finding a strong, rapid pulse.
"He lives," she breathed, relief rushing through her like water through a floodgate.
Guards entered to carry the newest Wardens to their rooms. The others milled about, as if waiting for her to dismiss them. She should debrief them. They needed to know about the trip into the Deep Roads. She should be preparing for a journey to Soldier's Peak. She should be writing to Fiona demanding to know what, if anything, they had discovered after so many years of research. She should go to Weisshaupt and oversee the research, dig into the massive archives there and see what she could learn. And somewhere, in the deepest recesses of her heart, was a sudden, real fear that her time might somehow be running out.
"I will see you all at dinner," she said finally, when it became apparent that nobody was leaving until she said something. They all began to disperse and she made her way to her quarters. Loghain joined her.
"You look exhausted," he commented as they started up the stairs.
"Why thank you, I believe that is a step up from 'terrible', is it not?" she teased, resting her hand lightly on his arm.
"Yes, I suppose it is at that," he agreed with a wry smile.
They continued up the stairs and to their room in silence. Leonie began to feel herself relaxing as they moved down the hallway with its thick carpets. Maybe they could postpone the interrogation she knew was coming from Loghain. Maybe they could just have a few moments of undisturbed peace.
"Are you going to tell me what's going on in that mind of yours? You seemed preoccupied throughout the Joining. Perhaps you could start with your thoughts on the trip into the Deep Roads? They are obviously troubling ones," he asked once they were in their quarters. His smile from earlier, wry and amused, seemed to have gone missing.
He looked grave and grim and Leonie found herself unwilling to discuss such serious and dark thoughts. She felt the rebellious spark in her that had so often confounded her parents when she was a child. She wanted a day, perhaps two, where nothing untoward happened, where she and Loghain could just spend time in each other's company and let go of their day to day concerns. No matter how unrealistic it was, she never-the-less wanted such an experience. He cleared his throat, waiting for her to respond. She didn't have to look at him to know he was impatient and probably scowling.
Leonie made her way into their bedchamber and began unbuckling her armor. When the silence became too heavy and before it became acrimonious, she took a deep breath.
"I do not wish to at the moment, Loghain. Tonight I would like to not think," she replied, moving to join him, wearing only the thin shirt and trousers that she wore under her armor's rough padding.
"Maric used to do that too," Loghain began and at her raised brow, he continued, "Ignore problems and difficulties, as if by doing so they would simply go away. He passed that particular trait on to his son. It never ends well, Leonie. We must attend to reality," he rebuked quietly.
Reality? What was reality? In her mind, reality, impossibility and improbability all seemed to be fighting with each other, with reality being the most severe casualty of the war. Leonie sighed. "And so we shall, Loghain, when I am ready. Tonight I am not."
"Do you think running from it will make it more tolerable? Less true?" he asked in a slightly mocking voice. He was sitting in one of the chairs by the fire and he leaned back, scowling once again.
They hadn't had much to celebrate lately, nor much time together. She rolled her neck, stretching the tension out of her shoulders. She studied their new quarters, their shared quarters. An unexpected and touching gift from Loghain. Was she running? Perhaps. But what she wanted was time to revel in the gift, in the new closeness they had discovered but every blasted thing in their lives conspired against such a notion. She thought the world would not end if they took just one evening to themselves.
It was then that she remembered she had a gift for him as well, one that was still locked in the trunk that was now sitting in a corner of their shared bedchamber. Loghain would, no doubt, think it a childish and foolish thing, to offer a gift when there were so many issues to discuss, when they were both concerned about what had transpired in the Deep Roads. Leonie hesitated for a long moment and neither of them spoke. He was obviously waiting for her to capitulate. She would not. If she had to beat him into submission, they were going to let go of their worries for at least one evening. If that was running, so be it. She would run, if only for one night.
"I have something for you, Loghain," she stated, a smile beginning to form on her lips and lighten her heart. "You must close your eyes," she instructed. Of course he balked.
"We're not children," he groused. She rolled her eyes at him.
"Honestly, Loghain, I do not believe you were ever a child. I believe you sprang forth, fully grown, from the loins of a mule. A very stubborn and taciturn mule," she added for good measure, coming to stand beside him.
Loghain snorted. "Ah, more Orlesian tactics. Insult the enemy into compliance."
"Absolutely devious and cunning and apparently not working," she retorted and then continued, "Now close your eyes or, as your commander, I shall order you to do so."
She heard his impatient growl as she went into their bedchamber. After finding the key to her trunk, she opened it and then carefully pulled out a long, rolled parchment before making her way back to his chair. Sitting down gently on the arm of the chair, she placed the rolled parchment on his lap.
"You may open your eyes now," she instructed and then folded her hands, suddenly nervous. It was the first gift she had given him. What if brought unhappy memories? What if he hated it?
She stood up and moved to the fireplace, picking up the poker and stabbing at the ashes, which remained cold and gray and would have laughed at her for her poor attempt at reviving them had they been alive. She glanced over her shoulder at Loghain. It was foolish to feel nervous about a gift, for Maker's sake. She had so many other real concerns, what did it matter if he liked it or not?
He was studying the untouched parchment as if it might bite him at any moment. "It is a gift, Loghain, not a Blight wolf," she chortled, putting the poker down. He appeared more nervous than she was and she took courage from that.
"It is the custom, in Orlais, for one to open a gift," she commented, softening her words with a smile. "Do Fereldans have a different custom?"
Loghain began to unroll the parchment and then made an inarticulate sound that might have been a grunt or a sigh or something else altogether. Leonie wasn't sure. She was, however, quite certain of his surprise.
"A map of Ferelden," he uttered and frowned. He fell silent for a moment, as if to gather his thoughts. "From the occupation," he continued, his voice low and unsteady. She wasn't sure if that was good or bad. She found she was clutching her hands rather tightly as she waited for him to continue.
She watched as one tapered finger traced along the borders of a parcel of land. The map was a patchwork of small, oddly shaped parcels. It was an assessor's map and had all of the Ferelden freeholds marked on it. The map had been used by the Imperial Assessor to levy the tribute taxes each year.
"This was," he began and cleared his throat, "This was my family's farmhold," he said, his voice strangled by emotion as his fingers continued to trace the borders. "How did you come by this?"
"My love, one does not ask where a gift comes from," Leonie chided tenderly, resting her hand on his shoulder. His expression softened as he continued studying the map. He glanced up at her and then back at the map. She resisted the impulse to ruffle his carefully brushed and braided hair.
Loghain's long fingers continued tracing the lines on the map. "I remember the summer we put up the stone fence in the pasture. A very hot summer," he began, his voice lost to a memory. "My mother came down to the pasture with honey cakes and cold cider. I was ten, nearly eleven. She was singing and my father stopped working just to listen to her," he continued, steeped in the memory now.
Leonie settled once more on the arm of his chair and listened intently, trying not to intrude on his memory. It was only the second time he had ever mentioned his family and the first time had been so painful for him. This, at least, seemed a happier memory.
"She gave me quite a scolding for taking my shirt off and letting my skin burn. It hurt like the dickens but I wouldn't tell her that. She made a poultice of chamomile and buttermilk that night," he continued. "She said the Maker had made me suffer enough for my foolishness."
Loghain leaned back, his eyes closed. "You are like her in some ways," he whispered gruffly.
Leonie waited for him to continue and when he didn't, she offered helpfully, "Beautiful?"
"Stubborn as a mabari," he replied, opening his eyes. They were shimmering silver in the low light. He was not crying, she knew, but he was very emotional, different from the night he had told her about his mother's death, but every bit as intense.
"Ah, so that is where you inherited it," she replied softly.
"My father was just as stubborn, it's equally likely I inherited it from him, as I did my coloring and my unfortunate nose," he replied dryly and then straightened up. Leonie leaned over, kissing the tip of said nose.
"I don't know how you came by it, but I thank you," he said quietly, with such heartfelt sincerity that Leonie felt the sudden bite of tears in her throat.
"Perhaps one day you can take me there, if the memories would not be too painful," she replied when she could trust her voice not to quiver. She watched as he carefully rolled the map and set it aside.
"Yes," he agreed, pulling her onto his lap and staring deeply into her eyes, searching for something. She wasn't sure what he saw but he seemed satisfied, pulling her close and letting his eyes drift shut.
"How did you come by it?" he asked again a moment later and she buried her face into the curve where his neck and shoulder met.
"You will only laugh if I tell you," came her muffled reply. She let her lips wander along the warmth of his neck.
"All the more reason to tell me now that you've piqued my curiosity," he commented, turning his head slightly as her lips continued their journey up to his jaw.
Leonie gave a little huff of feigned indignation. "I am as stubborn as a mabari, as you have recently pointed out, Loghain. I do not think you shall wrest the information from me," she teased, continuing her assault on his neck.
"Diversionary tactics?" he asked, his voice deepening as her fingers joined the assault.
"Will they work?" she whispered, her lips brushing against the sensitive shell of his ear.
"Without a doubt," he replied in a husky voice, launching a counter-assault with his hands and mouth.
Later, as they were dressing, Loghain came to her under the guise of lacing the back of her gown, but he bent his head, his lips brushing softly along her ear. "You are," he said softly, his voice a warm tickling breeze along her skin.
"I am?" Leonie inquired, leaning back against him. "I am what?" she asked, a soft moan escaping from her as his lips traced a path along the column of her neck.
"Come along, we're late for dinner," he replied maddeningly, stepping away from her abruptly.
His yelp, when she poked him in the ribs, gave her a quiet sense of satisfaction.
Anders was pacing the hallway outside Aura's private quarters. Ser Pounce was following him, tail in the air and Anders was fairly certain the cat was mocking him.
"Cheeky furball," he muttered and then before he could talk himself out of it, he rapped lightly on the door.
He heard the shuffle of a chair being pushed back and light steps and he wondered in a brief blind moment of panic if it was too late to run. But of course it was. Entirely too late. Aura opened the door.
"Anders, this is a surprise. Was there something you needed?" Aura asked in her sweet, softly accented voice.
You. I want you, he thought and then heard himself say, "I just wanted to make sure the mother-to-be was doing well."
Aura's smile was wide and lovely and caused a dimple to dance in her cheek and for a minute, Anders was completely mesmerized by it. "You are so kind, Anders. I'm well. Would you like to come in for a cup of tea?"
He hesitated. He had been running his entire life. He had run from his magic, from the templars, from the tower that seemed like a prison, from the templars again, from responsibility. Somehow, in becoming a Grey Warden, he had started to realize that running wasn't necessary all the time. Standing in front of Aura, he found he didn't want to run anywhere.
"A cup of tea with a lovely woman? Absolutely," he said with his usual breezy charm. An internal flinch later, he added honestly, "I'd really like that, Aura. Thank you."
It was tempting to slip into that effortless flattering banter; it had become so easy to hide behind the carefully constructed façade of the charming lady's man. Aura made it much easier for him to be himself, to open up and be honest. The hours ran away from him and it wasn't until he saw her smother a yawn that he realized how late it was.
"I'd better go, I didn't know it was so late," he mumbled and stood up so abruptly he knocked his chair over. He was pretty sure she was laughing at him. Why wouldn't she be? He was a big clumsy ass after all. If he was the blushing type, like Alistair, he would no doubt be a painful shade of red now.
"I'm sorry, Anders. Don't take it personally. The baby just seems to demand I sleep more than I am used to," she apologized. "I enjoyed this evening very much."
Anders, hand on the door, stopped and turned. "Enough to want to do it again?" he asked and there was another internal flinch at the ridiculously hopeful note in his voice.
"I'd like that," she said shyly.
It was too soon for a kiss, he knew that. But she was certainly looking kissable, all soft and sweet in the lamplight, with her big blue eyes and her…"Oh, right. Good night then," he said as he stepped out into the hallway. He turned to face her again, wondering what the protocol was for taking his leave of her. Should he bow? Kiss her hand? Just leave? That seemed a bit anticlimactic. She solved the problem for him.
"Good night, Anders," she whispered and reached up on the tips of her toes and kissed his cheek.
Well that didn't go half bad, Anders decided smugly as he made his way up to his room. Not half bad at all. He was still grinning like an idiot when he climbed into bed. Ser Pounce gave him a haughty stare and ignored him. Anders returned the favor.
Travis waited and watched in the shadows of her dream. She was traveling in the dreamscape, in a happier place for the moment, and he listened to the sound of her animal spirit, watched as it ran free and wild. He was relieved, for he had seen what could come to pass while in his own dreamscape.
Those who thought the future was immutable and unchangeable would be surprised to see the constant shaping and reshaping of it as circumstances changed; choices, emotions and a person's will dictated an ever shifting landscape, as mercurial and ever-changing as clouds tossed in a stormy sky. In her future's present state one would betray her, one would die for her, two would travel to distant lands for her and one would break her spirit, leaving her trapped in an empty shell.
He could do nothing to alter her future, only she had the power to do that, through her choices and free will, through the strength of her spirit and the courage of her heart. He could, however, stand watch over her animal spirit and her physical form.
His own future bade him do so.