A/N: I started this story for this year's NaNoWriMo, using my canon save from the game as my outline. The M rating is for eventual language. As always, Bioware owns everything; I'm merely playing in their sandbox. I've spent days now wondering what the hell I was going to do with this chapter. Originally I wanted to go through initially meeting the Dalish, but it's not flowing the way I want it to. Then after that, I spent about six hours trying to find any actual quotes about Isabela and Zevran's past to use in place of a verse of the Chant, but all I can find are allusions to their history. If anyone knows where I can find a quote, codex, etc that works with this, please let me know!
"Captain Isabela?"
The Rivaini woman smiled when she saw Elissa, her arms wide to embrace the girl. "Well, if it isn't Highever's own runaway bride! What happened, kitten, your mother try to marry you off again? Decide to join the Wardens this time instead of running to Orlais?"
"Not quite the former, but a good bit of the latter," Elissa smiled sadly. "Zevran says you might be willing to carry a message?"
"I can handle that," she shrugged. "And I won't even charge you this time, since we're old friends. Have you got it written down? You know I'm shit with remembering these things."
Alistair cleared his throat a bit as Elissa handed Isabela the letter she'd prepared. She gave him a questioning look, then realized she'd forgotten to introduce them.
"I'm so sorry! Love, this is Captain Isabela. I told you how I threatened to run away to Orlais last year; the captain here was helping me to make arrangements for the trip. Isabela, this is Alistair..." She hesitated before continuing. "...Another Warden."
"Kitten, I told you before, only my boys have to call me 'captain'. Just Bela's good enough for you."
Isabela sauntered over to Alistair and inspected him carefully, like one might a package that'd just been delivered. "Never had a Warden before," she mused before glancing back at Elissa. "Mind if I have a go?"
Elissa nearly choked. "He's spoken for," she finally managed to get out, and Isabela laughed.
"You're welcome to come along too," Bela winked, and Elissa could feel her whole face go scarlet.
"I think it's time we go," she muttered as she began to gather her things.
"You Fereldens are so funny about these things," Isabela commented, fiddling with one pants leg as if she weren't used to the feel of it. "Wasn't Andraste married to both that warlord and the Maker all at the same time? If the Maker can share, the lot of you should be allowed to as well."
"Ah, well," she shrugged. "I'd best be going, I suppose, and so should you probably. Have Zev find me if you change your mind about the sharing."
"Goodbye, Isabela."
Elissa shut the door behind Bela with a sigh. "I'm sorry about her, love. I had no idea she was the 'sailor friend' that Zevran mentioned last night."
Alistair still stood slightly dumbstruck. "How in the blazes did you meet up with someone like her in Highever? Do you even have a port there?"
"It's not as large as here, or even Amaranthine, but yes. I don't know what Isabela was doing there last spring, but after far too many drinks and not a few lewd songs she told me she was once in a similar situation as I was at the time. She wasn't heading toward Orlais when she left, but she knew of a caravan that was and introduced me to its leader."
"Let me get this straight," he laughed suddenly. "You were drinking and singing in a dock-side tavern with a Rivaini pirate?"
Elissa sighed again. "Yes," she admitted finally. "In hindsight, it was probably the singing that got word of my little plot back to my mother a few days later. If I'd just kept my mouth shut no one would probably have even noticed me."
"You're going to have to teach me some of those songs, you know," he grinned, and she threw one of the packs at him as she laughed.
"And you can sleep in the snow tonight, too."
They met the others downstairs a few minutes later. Edwina wasn't anywhere to be found, so Elissa returned their keys to the bartender instead and they left. She watched Leliana carefully as they went; the Orlesian woman was quieter than usual and had a slight limp, but she technically appeared to be whole. Elissa made a mental note to speak with her friend once they set up camp that evening.
They entered the northern edges of the Brecilian Forests perhaps three hours south of Denerim, and continued along the eastern side of the slowly growing Southron Hills. It was still bitterly cold, but at least here in the forest there was little snow.
"I lived with a Dalish tribe for a time," Zevran chatted somewhere behind Elissa to anyone willing to listen. "My mother was Dalish, after all, and I was curious about her people. Alas, all the fresh air and clean living did not agree with me."
"And I do not recall anyone here requesting your autobiography," Morrigan called coldly from near the rear of the group.
"¡Misericordia, no! Oh, my dark minx, you absolutely must hear the tale!"
Glancing at them, Elissa saw Zevran trotting back to Morrigan and wrapping an arm around her. The witch wore a look of shocked disgust as she stared at the elf's hand on her shoulder, and Elissa had to turn forward again before she was caught laughing at the two. Zevran continued his tale as they continued through the woods, completely ignoring Morrigan's attempts to evade him, until they finally stopped a short while to let Leliana rest while they ate.
"That was quite bold, allowing Zevran to annoy Morrigan so," the bard commented as Elissa sat next to her on a fallen log.
"Morrigan could use some forced socialization sometimes," Elissa grinned back, and Leliana laughed.
"Nonetheless, perhaps Wynne or I should prepare our meals for the next few nights. You and Zevran both are liable to become quite ill otherwise. Where did she go, by the way?"
Elissa shrugged. "She said she was going to range ahead some, probably because she figures Zevran can't follow her that way. What I haven't been able to figure out is how she covers so much ground when she does go out like this."
"You mean you don't know?" the bard gasped in shock.
"Know what?"
Leliana stole a glance back at Alistair, who was busy throwing a stick for Moira to chase and bring back. Satisfied that his attention was elsewhere, the bard's voice dropped to a whisper.
"Elissa, Morrigan transforms into different animals when she travels ahead of us. A wolf or falcon are the two I have witnessed most often, but that first night in Redcliffe, when we fought off those corpses, she took the form of a great bear to fight alongside Sten.
For a very long time the young Warden didn't reply, her brow creased as she chewed on one thumb. She remembered seeing the bear during that battle, but had almost convinced herself since then that it had been her imagination.
"Andraste's ass," she finally swore quietly as she glanced back at her prince and her hound. "You know how he's going to react when he finally finds out, don't you?"
The bard nodded. "That's why I've not brought it up before now. Granted, I assumed you knew and were simply not mentioning it for that very reason."
"No, I should have figured it out, but I hadn't. Maker's breath, this is going to be a headache," she sighed, rubbing her temples.
"Are you well enough to get going again?" she finally asked the bard. "Zevran said you were cut up pretty badly last night, so just say so whenever you need rest."
Leliana's gaze darkened a bit. "Thank you, but I am fine. Last night was... difficult, in multiple ways, but it is over now."
The nightmares returned to both Wardens the deeper they ventured into the forest. Elissa's came first, on the second night, and Alistair did his best to keep her distracted from the terrors she saw in her dreams. Whenever she woke in a panic they would talk about anything else they could think of—their plans for the next day's travel, the stew that Wynne had made that night, even the lyrics to the songs she had learned from Isabela the spring before.
When the dreams struck him as well by the fourth night, Alistair became much more somber. They spent much of that night lying silently in their tent, neither one willing to speak or sleep. The fifth night he refused to come to bed at all, so she sat with him by the fire while he kept watch.
"You know, I've been thinking," he said suddenly. "When we left Goldanna's house, you said I need to watch out for myself more often. I've been thinking about it since then, and I think I'm going to actually try my best at the Landsmeet when Eamon finally gets it organized."
Elissa realized with a start that she'd nearly dozed off staring into the fire. "Wait, what?"
"I thought that might get your attention," he chuckled while she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. "I mean it, though. I don't really want to be king, but once the Archdemon's dead there's really not any way for me to actually help people if I stay with the Wardens. And what I want to do is help people."
She frowned. "That makes sense, I suppose. Not only Eamon but my own father would make the same argument, that we as nobles exist to care for our people, and your father was King Maric. Every man, woman, and child in Ferelden make up your people."
"So you're not angry with me for deciding to be king?"
Elissa sighed dramatically. "I suppose if that's your honest reasoning for it, I don't have much choice, do I, your Majesty? I'm the one who told you to do what you wanted, after all."
"What about you?"
This time she honestly did sigh. "Well, if it's not been done already by that point, I suppose my first duty is to find Fergus, if Teagan hasn't already, and retake Highever. Fergus will be teyrn if he's alive and well, but he'll still need somone to command his troops. Depending on how he takes the news of Oriana and Oren's deaths, he may need me to be his heir. And if he's not alive..."
"...then you'll become teyrna," he finished for her.
"Exactly. I'd probably even be good at ruling, too. But Father had me trained 'just-in-case' Fergus couldn't become teyrn himself. I was never actually meant to reach that position. Just like any other good girl, I was supposed to put my sword and armor away eventually, find a husband, and give him hell for the rest of his natural life."
"Considering you've already tried to make a run for it once, I somehow doubt you'd ever let that happen," he laughed.
She shrugged in reply. "I just don't like others making my decisions for me, is all. Is that so wrong?"
Alistair hugged her close, still laughing. "Not at all, love. Not at all."
