***** Busy work day will be busy. Trying to get this chapter out for y'all before I go in. You're welcome! What can you look forward to today? More Alistair! Woot woot!****
Part 34
The Council of War
Before the king had a chance to further elaborate Dorian re-entered the room bearing a tray of food and accompanied by the two squires, Jeremy and Hannah, as well as Fen'Harel. Astlyr raised an eyebrow at the elvish mage, who had donned a simple Skyhold tabard and was moving with an uncharacteristically submissive gait. His eyes flicked up to meet Astlyr's and he was unable to disguise the flicker of mischief in them.
"Your Highness," Dorian was in rare form, flourishing about the room as he settled the food he had brought on Josie's little table. More misdirection, Astlyr guessed, so that Fen could easily slip in and, unobtrusive as any ordinary healer, see to the king's arm and listen in on the impending discussion.
King Alistair smiled with some amusement at Dorian and turned his attention to his squires for a moment. Both had removed their armor and stood in their blue gambisons. Astlyr was surprised to see that Jeremy was an elf. He was tall for one of his kind, and older than Hannah. Perhaps in his middle years, he had a lined and scarred face which belied an eventful existence. "How fares my bride?" the king questioned the pair.
Jeremy and Hannah shot one another knowing looks. "She is...displeased."
"Ah. Yes. I imagined she would be," the king did not seem the least bit concerned by this news, or the informal way his squires addressed him. Astlyr could see it made Cullen very tense.
"Are the accommodations not to her liking?" Cullen asked, still keeping his posture overly straight. It seemed that he, at least, was determined to show the respect befitting the royalty in their midst.
"Few things are every to her liking," King Alistair said, taking the hastily made ham and cheese sandwich that Dorian had put together from what he had brought. "Thank you," the ruler said politely. He turned back to the Cullen. "She didn't spend her formative years sleeping on hard beds and enjoying nights without proper food. The ride to Skyhold did nothing for her usually sunny disposition." By the grins that had found their way to the squire's faces Astlyr guessed that any rumors of Queen Anora's 'sunniness' were merely that.
She noted that Fen'Harel had been able to easily slip in and get to work with his magics. Alistair's wound was already almost fully healed. She had to admire Fen's cleverness. She cleared her throat. It appeared that she would have to be the one to keep everything on track. Even Cas seemed distracted in such illustrious company, and she had been right hand to the Divine. "Sire, we were discussing an attack on Denerim by elves?" Astlyr prompted.
"Yes," King Alistair said around a mouthful of food. "Yes we were. As I told you, it was completely unexpected. I had only just gotten a few reports that members of the town watch were being jumped and killed. A few claiming to be witnesses asserted that these attacks were done by elves, but often people jump to those conclusions too hastily. Some of my best friends are elves," the king clarified with a smile before continuing. "We had no concrete evidence as to who these attackers were, but they were efficient. Always making the kill and disappearing. We had just begun to investigate when an attempt was made on my life."
"Someone tried to assassinate you?" Cassandra had snapped out of her quiet consideration. Her eyes had turned flinty and dangerous.
"They did," Alistair said. "Would've had me dead to rights of old Jeremy here hadn't been so damn good at his job," he gave his squire a beaming smile. Jeremy nodded and blushed faintly at the praise. "He saw the assassin off, but would be believe the next day there was this army of elves, just smack in the middle of our city? Marched in through the front gate no less."
"The guard did not sound the alarm?" Cas asked, her brows coming together. "The gates were not closed?"
For the first time the king looked somber. "I believe that a majority of the guard were slaughtered before they had a chance to raise the alarm. Killed by our city elves. The gates to the alienage have been kept open since the Blight ended. The elves encouraged to join the rest of the city's population whenever they pleased. We had no reason to fear. In ten years no attacks had stemmed from them, though they usually still kept to themselves. We were, quite honestly, caught with our trousers down, and for that I will always feel a fool."
"We had scouts in that area," Cullen murmured, almost to himself. "They have not reported any such activity."
"They haven't reported at all," Astlyr pointed out. "Not since Sera returned. Sire, you mentioned a dragon?"
"Ah, yes. The swooping. I was getting to that bit," the king said, falling back into a seemingly inescapable jovial tone. Astlyr wondered if his propensity for this ever made it difficult for him to pass judgments or laws. Perhaps his wife handled that end of things. It had been the queen, after all, who had approached Astlyr about becoming a Bann, not the king. "We might have had a chance against the elves, even with our soldiers unprepared, but they seem to have called in a dragon, as well as a gigantic eagle. Between the two of those we didn't stand much chance."
"Giant eagle?" Astlyr shot as cautious a glance as she could towards Fen, who did not look up to meet her eyes. For a moment her mind flashed what might have been a memory. A young elvish woman with a hawk on her shoulder. She let the memory go swiftly. "And there was only one dragon?"
"Yes, thank the Maker," Alistair's brows shot up, "should there have been more?"
"Perhaps not," Astlyr mused. Which dragon had it been? Mythal herself, or Morrigan, still held under the goddess' sway? Perhaps the mage had managed to flee from her captors. Astlyr cleared her throat, deflecting, "how did you escape?"
"I split my forces," Alisatir explained. "I knew the city was for it. The dragon was already burning every roof in sight. "So, I put on my most kingly armor and rode out with some of my soldiers. We intended to draw the attention of the creatures as my other troops got as many civilians out of the city as they could. It worked...to and extent."
"Where are your civilians now?" asked Cullen, "why not bring them to Skyhold?"
"Well," King Alistair looked down at the cup of tea he'd been given, seeming slightly ashamed. "The ruse worked well enough. The dragon and company came after me all right, and we led them away from the city, even as it burned. I think many of the civilians did manage to get away, though I have no proof. However, my soldiers and I had no where to go, and we certainly couldn't fight a large army of elves and their flying monster companions and win. So we retreated to the only place I could think of that could withstand such creatures."
"Not Redcliff? It's closer," Cullen pointed out.
"It could handle the assault for a while, but it has little standing army, and it is a thriving fishing village rife with homes to burn."
Astlyr felt her heart go cold in her chest, "so you led an army of elves, a dragon, and a giant eagle to Skyhold?"
"They're behind us by a good several days," King Alistair said, as though this was meant to reassure. "At the very least. We are a mounted force, while they are on foot. To be honest, I am not certain they didn't just break off pursuit. We've had no sign of them in some time."
It was as though the king's words had lit a match in Astlyr's mind. The flame was already growing, well on its way to becoming a bonfire. "Cullen, we need to prepare! I want the main gate shored up. I want the siege engines constructed and ready to go. I want triple watches on the walls and the soldiers ready for a siege. Make sure the outer walls are in good repair and plan locations for our own civilians to retreat. The elven temple might come in handy. Skyhold can take punishment, that's what it was built for, but I want it as ready as we can get it."
Her words were sharp. Military, and too loud. For a few seconds no one moved. Everyone, even the king, staring at her with wide eyes. A shouting qunari was always alarming, even if you were used to it. Cullen was the first to snap out of his hesitation. "You heard the Inquisitor! Cassandra, we have work to do." He gave Astlyr a smart salute and marched from the room like a true solider. Cas too stood straight, her expression determined, if a bit confused as she too departed.
"Fen," she addressed the elf, who had finished his work and was standing demurely in a corner, "Please ensure that the infirmary is ready and stocked for wounded."
She was dismissing him, and he got the hint. He bowed and departed, though his eyes caught and lingered on hers for a long moment as he did so. They would need to talk, and soon. "Dorian," Astlyr turned to her friend. "Please find Josephine. She shall be in charge to seeing to the king and queen's needs during their stay."
"I'll be helping you ready for battle, of course," King Alistair stood, blue eyes flashing. There was a warrior in him, Astlyr realized, when it could be bothered to show itself. His expression was hardened by many battles and she recognized that look as one she often wore. She recalled then that he was a grey warden, and had been one of the people who had fought the Archdemon in the most recent Blight. He had seen good men fall, and rose up himself as the best of them. She met his determined gaze, warrior to warrior. Commander to commander. Strange equals on a strange field. Then he smiled a little lopsidedly. "I mean, if it suits you. It's your fortress."
Astlyr tried to contain her own smile, but she saw that even the squires were even having trouble so she gave up. "Is there anything I can do for you before I go see to these preparations myself?" she asked.
"Actually, would you mind very much showing me where I'll be staying? I had a few more questions. If you're busy I understand."
"No, no," Astlyr reassured the man, "follow me. Will your squires be staying with you?"
"I think they had better. No offense meant to your security, but waking up with someone trying to murder me has set me a bit on edge." The king explained, a bit sheepishly. He turned to Hannah and Jeremy, "see to my armor first, then meet me a in our quarters."
"Yes sir," both chimed, gathering up the fallen pieces of golden armor from the floor. They even put some of the pieces on to making the carrying easier.
Astlyr led King Alistair out into the main hall of Skyhold. It was a stark contrast to how it had been only hours before. People bustled, chattering to one another. Some of the king's contingent would have to bed down in the hall. The barracks was full, as were most of the civilian quarters. To Astyr's pleasure, no one seemed distressed or panicked. Not yet at any rate. No doubt the royal soldiers had spread the word of what had caused their retreat from Denerim, and news would spread like wild fire in dry grass in the Skyhold rumor mill. Still, everyone carried themselves with a surprising amount of efficient calmness. This wasn't their first dragon attack.
"What was it you wanted to speak of?" Astlyr asked, moving slowly across the hall, passing before her disused throne. King Alistair raised an eyebrow at the needlessly ornate chair. She gave him an expressive shrug to make it clear that she certainly hadn't chosen it.
"That dragon," Alistair said, tilting his head back for a moment to take in the vaulted ceiling of the main hall. "I've seen a fair few dragons in my days. More than I'd like, and I hear you are no stranger to the beasts, so I can tell you that the dragon I saw did not behave like a wild creature."
Astlyr hesitated, then sighed, "I will admit that I suspected as much. It very likely is not a dragon. It's...a powerful mage."
"No," the king suddenly looked aghast. "Maker's breath, you can't mean Flemmeth?"
Astlyr blinked, confused. "You know Flemmeth?"
"Met her a couple of times, and traveled with her daughter." Alistair explained.
"Morrigan? Of course! How could I forget the tales?"
"People do," Alistair shrugged. "They have a hard time reconciling me, their shining, golden king," he paused and struck a pose. Though he was older than Astlyr by a few years, he still had an ever present boyish glint in his eye, "-with the young warden fumbling around in the muck and always covered in Darkspawn blood and dog hair. Though to be honest, the dog hair is still a thing. I believe my squires will have set my mabari up in your stables."
"The horses will love that," Astlyr snarked. At least Smoke, as a war horse, had been trained to work together with dogs, though he had not had much opportunity to practice since Dennet had hand picked him as mount for the Inquisitor.
"So this dragon is Flemmeth then?" The king had stopped walking and they both stood together before the throne. Several times people stopped in their work to look at the two leaders, as though expecting a speech to break out at any moment. Astlyr had to keep gesturing them on with her hand.
"In a way," Astlyr floundered. Was it worth it to explain that Flemmeth was actually an ancient god and that she now wore the skin of a male elf? No. Probably not. She thought of Fen's vehement desire not to have his identity revealed. While Astlyr was already building a strong liking for this odd man who was their king, she wasn't certain he was ready for elvhen gods. "I believe the mage we are dealing with is like Flemmeth. Able to change his form. But it seems this one is more dangerous if he's attacking our capitol city."
"You're probably right. Flemmeth seemed to think living in a swamp was the best plan for her life," the king folded his arms. He stopped, holding out his arm and flexing his hand, "Not bad," he mused. "Your healer is very good!"
"He is," Astlyr agreed, unable to contain a feeling of pride in her people. God though he was, Astlyr still could not think of Fen as anything but one of her own.
"So this mage," the king pressed, "what is he doing with an army of elves? How does one even get an army of elves?"
Astlyr grimaced. "Why don't we retire to your quarters and I can try to explain this all more clearly?" Once again people were starting to gather expectantly.
"Right you are," The King agreed and the two retreated to Astlyr's quarters.
Astyr spent at least an hour trying to clarify the issues they had been dealing with for much of their winter. Of reports of raided slave markets and emptied alienages. Of an assassination attempt on the empress.
"I heard about that," Alistair had said. "I didn't know it was elves that drove the Empress into hiding."
"Neither did we, for certain, but we were starting to suspect, what with all the other elven business going on."
"So do you suppose they've finally had enough of being mistreated and they're coming to exact their revenge?" Alistair raised an eyebrow. His wife made a disgruntled sound. She had been listening intently and adding little, save for annoyed noises. The whole situation seemed to by completely outside her wheel house.
"I think that's the long and short of it, yes," Astlyr sighed. "We still have no idea how they move an army from place to place with such speed, nor, in fact, how they managed to raise that army in the first place."
"They didn't seem to be trained warriors," Hannah, who had been sitting to one side, oiling the leather straps on some more practical battle armor, looked up from her work. "They didn't move in correct formations and they got in each other's way sometimes. I think that's how we managed to get such a lead on 'em. Besides the fact that we had horses, I mean."
"Yeah," agreed Jeremy, who was sitting on the floor using a special tool to repair a gap in a chain mail shirt which was spread across his knee. "They were fair enough fighters one on one, but as a unit they were clumsy. Untrained. The mages especially. A mage unit has to be carefully chosen and organized or you'll have trouble, and quick. I think a few of them even lit their fellows on fire."
"We can use that to our advantage for certain," Astlyr nodded her thanks to the two.
"Good observations," the king praised his squires. Astlyr smiled. She was coming to like this man more and more.
After they had finished talking and Alistair had retired, Astlyr left the room feeling herself drag. As soon as she had closed the door behind her Josephine hurried over looking mortified. "Inquisitor! I am so sorry! I cannot believe that I slept through the warning bell! I shall never forgive myself! Here I am, your ambassador, and I was not ready to welcome the KING into our fortress!" she looked ready to shake apart with anger at herself.
Astlyr planted a heavy hand one of the woman's shoulders, "Be calm, Josie. Honestly, I don't think the king noticed. I was there to greet him, and Cullen made a good show of respect where I failed. Now his highness is comfortably installed in my quarters, and asleep, I might add," she lowered her voice, so as to indicate the need for quiet.
Josephine still looked as flustered as a hen who'd been kicked across the yard. Her black curls, ever elegantly arrayed even after asleep, now seemed a bit frizzed. Her face was flushed with embarrassment and she wasn't even carrying her writing board. Astlyr held her firmly, trying to keep a smile from her lips. She'd never seen the woman looking so utterly distressed. "All is well, Josie. Make it up tomorrow by taking their majesties on a tour of the fortress. Make us look good."
"Alright," Josephine sniffed, giving the door to Astlyr's quarters one last, longing stare. She allowed herself to be steered back towards her office.
"We'll all talk in the morning," Astlyr reassured her friend before parting ways. The hours' passing since she and the king had retreated to her rooms had seen much of the bustle in the great hall quiet. Beds had been found for soldiers. Food had been distributed, healing administered where needed. Astlyr caught sight of Audra and her people strolling amongst the sleepers like watchful mothers. The chief healer caught Astlyr's eye and gave her a nod to indicate all was well, at least for the night.
Astlyr trekked on. Outside, as a harsh night wind scooped down into the courtyard, people were still awake and working. The night watch was on the walls in droves, though some of the guard were down in the yard, already carrying great hunks of wood and metal from where they had been stored. Skyhold's siege engines had been packed away after the war, but now would be reassembled and calibrated to kill any who threatened the fortress's walls. Astlyr even caught sight of some of her building crew. Rogers, the dwarf, and a few of his hand chosen disciples, were strolling along at the base of the wall, seeking flaws by lamplight. She might have thought him daft for doing this at night, but she knew that time was of the essence and they needed to be as prepared as they could.
Heaving another weary sigh she felt the cruel fingers of the icy wind seek the thinnest parts of her clothing. She'd gotten herself a new cloak, but it did little in the midnight cold of a Skyhold winter night. She made her way slowly up the wall steps, noting that the guards on the walls had large braziers set out at intervals to keep warm. The mages had taken it upon themselves to keep these braziers blazing toastily. Astlyr smiled to herself. She had some good people, this much was certain. She wished that her reward for them was a happy, long life, rather than the threat of death at every turn.
In Cullen's rooms she found her man waiting up for her. He was attired in a warm woolen tunic and leggings and was attempting to work at his desk, though was obviously beginning to nod off.
They said nothing to one another. He stood, cross to her and kissed her before twining fingers in hers and leading her to the ladder. The pair climbed to his bed as the night draped itself thickly in around the fortress. Even its frigid grip could not find them this time. Astlyr had been certain to repair Cullen's roof.
"Ancient and angry elven 'gods' are coming? Here? Soon?" Blackwall had both bushy eyebrows raised so high they looked fit to abandon his brow and fly away.
"That is the long and short of it," Astlyr nodded. She rested her weight back against the war table. On it a new special section had been set out. A map and crude model of Skyhold and the surrounding landscape. Even Astlyr had to admit, as she looked over the images and little wooden structure (which Blackwall had whittled and fitted together for them), that her fortress looked nigh unassailable.
"Oh I'm certain the story gets much longer than that," Blackwall grouched, folding his arms.
"We're certain they're coming here?" Josephine asked. The diplomat looked slightly out of place standing amongst the experienced battlers of Skyhold. Astlyr had gathered her elite around her. All save Sera, whom she knew would add little but annoyed rambling to the discussion of tactics. As much as it pained Astlyr to do so, she had decided to keep the god issue from the elf. She could see no advantage in making Sera more alarmed and opposed to Fen'Harel than she already was. She still gave him a very wide berth and complained loudly whenever he was in the same room as she. He'd learned quickly to avoid her, lest she slip and reveal what he believed himself to be.
As usual, Cole was the oddest of those gathered, perching on a chair arm and remaining silent, he hid his face behind his hat's wide brim, but Astlyr could feel the warm sensation of his presence. He was there for her, if for no other reason. He was hardly one to talk strategy, but she knew he did not wish to be far from her and her inner circle of companions.
"It seems highly likely that they will seek out Skyhold," Fen'Harel, sat in the corner with his fellow gods, and Myfanwy, who had been invited to attend this meeting of generals, but not to speak at it. Ghilan'nain looked particularly baffled, even though Fen and Dirthamen translated important topics for her. Fen went on, "he will see the fortress, and its residents, as an affront," he met Astlyr's gaze. She knew that the god of Vengeance might have a few other reasons to attack her in particular. Not the least of which was the harm she and her people had done to him personally when last they had met. "I believe he wishes to cut off the head of Fereldan," he nodded towards the king, who stood at the other side of the big table beside Cullen. The two men had been discussing tactics all morning with just a little too much pleasure to make Astlyr feel completely comfortable.
King Alistair looked up and rubbed his throat as though the enemy was coming for his head alone. "Oh good," he muttered sarcastically.
"Where else would they go anyway?" Iron Bull pointed out. "We're the biggest dog left standing. They've got the Empress hiding away like a frightened rabbit, they've done whatever they did to the 'Vints. I imagine they'll leave the qunari alone for now. If they're going around trying to chop off the heads of the nations, we're it."
"Lucky us," Astlyr snarked, checking a troop roster and laying it on top of an ever growing stack of papers.
"We were wise to recall the army," Cullen said, with a tone of pride.
"Our force combined with what his highness brought are almost too much for Skyhold to accommodate," Cassandra pointed out. She stood back a bit, eying the map, hands resting on the hilt of her sword. "If we don't coordinate properly we'll be tripping all over ourselves."
"Well then it is a good thing we have so many skilled military leaders here," Astlyr gave her friend an encouraging smile.
"Have the builders been down to the temple to block that external entrance?" Cullen questioned, turning the model of Skyhold so he could see the other side.
"Rogers and his men are down there right now," Astlyr affirmed. "They'll make sure no one can get in that way."
"Not that they would anyhow," Varric said. "The stairs are broken and the door comes right out of the side of a cliff."
"Our foe does have dragons," Cassandra pointed out.
"Ah. Yes. Never mind. Block up everything," Varric agreed wholeheartedly.
"With a dragon and the giant eagle King Alistair mentioned, they will be able to attack us from all angles, but the army will be forced channel through here," Cullen gestured with two fingers to the mountain pass which tapered down to meet the long bridge to the Skyhold's main gates.
"We'll have to protect the bridge well," Astlyr leaned on her arm, her horns almost touching Cullen's forehead. "If they harm it in any way, they might not be able to get in, but we will be trapped as well."
"I'm in favor of that not happening," Varric said. He had pulled Bianca on to his lap and was tinkering with a few of her gears. Even the crossbow looked fighting fit. The strings were waxed, the moving parts well oiled.
"Do not forget the earth mages you have at your disposal," Vivienne, who stood at the long end of the table, looked up from her own paperwork. "Well positioned mages could hold the bridge together under conventional assault, as well as repair it as needed. The walls as well. I have the enchanters fortifying the stones with magic as we speak."
"To repair the bridge would require positioning which would put the mages in danger, as they would need to stand in full view on the wall, or even outside on the bridge," Dorian mused, looking over Viv's shoulder as she organized her own magical force so as to best provide support for the soldiers.
"We would, of course, have barriers in place," the elegant enchanter countered, indicating something on her page. The two fell into quiet but intense conversation.
Cullen glanced at Fen and his group, then shot a look towards the king. Astlyr nodded fractionally. She knew what the commander wanted to discuss. "We have our own...shape shifting mages," he pointed out cautiously, gesturing to Fen and company.
"Can any of them turn into a dragon?" Alistair brightened.
"Sadly, we cannot," Fen looked as though he was trying hard not to smile at the king's hopeful expression. "We may still be of use in that regard," Fen'Harel fingered the foci that hung around his neck.
"You most definitely will," Astlyr gave the elf a firm look. One thing was certain, if she was going to be faced with ancient gods in deadly forms, she was not going to bench the ones at her disposal. This was, after all, far more of their battle than hers. She was, technically, just one of the inferior, upstart races awaiting extermination. Though she had no intention of letting that happen.
"Excellent," Cullen said, meeting Fen'Harel's eyes with no less of a dangerous expression. "I am uncertain how and when we will have need of you, so you will not stray far from the main commanders; myself, Astlyr and Cassandra." He gave the gods no time for argument, even if they might have, instead turning back to the table. "We should position our trebuchet here and here, in the main yard, to threaten the army from the front. Hopefully they will be enough to keep any attacking force thinking twice about moving up to the bridge."
"There are siege engine locations on these points of your wall, why not use them all?" Alistair mentioned, indicating the spots.
"Whatever weapon we place would be more vulnerable to dragon attack there," Cullen correct him. "We are better off getting as many of our smaller, cheaper, ballista on the walls and all around the fortress as possible. They might not be as agile as we'd like, but they are a serious threat to a dragon, or other winged attacker."
Astyr nodded her agreement, "Cullen, if you were attacking, how else would you assault Skyhold?"
The man considered for a long moment. "He wouldn't. He has too much sense," Varric seemingly couldn't resist.
"Now master Tethras," Josie scolded, "we are in a strong position, but we are not impregnable. Our standing army is likely considerably smaller than whatever these elves might bring to bear."
"We're still a tough nut to crack," Blackwall backed up Varric's assessment. "Thick walls, siege engines, and sheer cliffs on every side."
"That creature you described, Astlyr," Cullen met her eyes. "The one you freed when you almost died...is that likely to accompany the attacking force?"
"He is," Fen'Harel spoke up. "I can tell from the drawings Myfanwy has done with your descriptions, and from the accounts you have given me, the creature is likely Elgar'nan himself. The All Father-" he hesitated, "The most powerful of the mages."
"He doesn't fly," Iron Bull pointed out. He was sprawled in a chair in the corner, out of the way, but listening intently.
"He could still do serious damage to the bridge or the main gate if he made a try for it," Astlyr said.
"Right. He'll be a main target for the siege engines if he makes an assault," Cullen confirmed.
"He may choose to remain high and in the rear," Dirthamen spoke for the first time. "While he thirsts for vengeance, he also values himself and his personal safety highly. He will use caution. We cannot count on him to make a mistake."
"Mythal is more likely to do so," Fen'Harel said, his eyes downcast. "She will feel it her duty to help her people succeed."
"What of the elves?" Astlyr turned to face the gods, her expression searching. "Could they be swayed? Could they be convinced to turn on these..mages?"
"Perhaps," Fen'Harel said, though his tone was testy. She knew he would not come forward as a deity himself, even to save Skyhold. It rankled her, but she also understood that there was little she could do. She could claim to high heavens that he was the Dread Wolf, but she had no proof if he did not cooperate. She settled for fixing her friend with a stern stare indicating that she expected him to be at his best in the coming battle.
"Keep in mind that our foot soldiers will be of little use unless the walls are breached," Cullen diverted attention back from the talk of gods. "Or if we feel we have enough advantage to push out of the fortress."
"We also have the guard," Cassandra said, selecting another, much smaller sheaf of papers. "They know the fortress better than our soldiers, and we can use this to our advantage if the walls are breached."
"I want to keep the guard as a reserve," Astlyr said, taking the papers and shuffling through them, though only skimming the information. She knew the guard to be the healthiest and halest of their force. The army had had to travel back to Skyhold in winter, and some had not fared as well as others, but Skyhold's own were hearty and ready for action. "They don't have the training to win in a full out skirmish, but in an emergency they'll be able to reinforce, not to mention they know how to operate all of the siege engines."
"Right," Cullen agreed, fiddling with some of the small figures he had placed inside the model Skyhold. Each represented a unit of soldiers. "Is there anything else we need to discuss."
"We need to inform the people," Blackwell said, his tone practical. "They should know what they might face,"
"Agreed," Astlyr said, though she did not relish the notion of what she must do. "Each commander will inform their units of pertinent information only."
Josephine raised her quill for attention. "You should also speak to them, as their Inquisitor."
Astlyr let out a little groan, "speeches? You know I'm no good at that sort of thing."
"The people need to see that their leader is behind them. Or...perhaps in front of them, in your case," the diplomat said, firmly. "They must feel that their Inquisitor is confident and watching over them."
Astlyr rubbed the back of her neck. "Alright. A short speech."
"Something rousing. I know you're a qunari, but try to keep the incoherent roaring and waving the head of your latest slain foe on a spike to a minimum," Varric shot her a grin and she wished she could take a playful swing at the dwarf. Iron Bull made a half-hearted try, but the nimble story teller dodged easily.
The meeting hung on for another half hour as the group discussed roles and contingencies. Iron Bull wasn't pleased that he and his Chargers would be kept back, only attacking should the walls be breached or if the need arose to leave the fortress, but he managed to keep his displeasure to a minimum.
The meeting drew to a close with everyone feeling nervous but determined. Cole was the first to leave, teleporting out with a rush of smoke and cold air, but Astlyr was certain he could return when she needed his support. The King stared confusedly at the spot where the boy had stood for a long moment before shaking his head and returning to his conversation with Josephine, who planned to show the king and his grumbling spouse around the fortress.
Blackwall announced loudly that he intended to drink, which prompted Varric to verbalize his own plans to join in. "Come on, Puppy," the dwarf gestured to Myfanwy, who followed him with an air timidity. It was clear she felt out of place with the generals and wasn't certain how to behave. "We'll have a nice meal and a game or two of Wicked Grace and all this will seem less bleak."
Fen'Harel remained with Astlyr and advisers. Dirthamen hung back with Ghilan'nain, still trying to make her understand the situation. Astlyr inwardly wondered if the goddess might have chosen to be on the enemy side, had she not been rescued by Fen. Did she long for worship as so many of the others seemingly did?
Once the king and the rest of the group had departed Cullen turned to the three elves, folding his arms, "Alright. Tell my truthfully. Can these creatures be slain?"
"Yes," Fen'Harel affirmed, though he winced when Cullen referred to his fellow gods as 'creatures'. "Just as I can. If you were to draw your sword and stab it into my heart right now, I would die, the same as any mortal."
"But it is unlikely that he will remain dead for long," Dirthamen interjected. "We are seldom without our contingencies, and Fen'Harel never is."
"Always have an escape route," Astlyr looked at the elf she had come to know as her friend, however much she might not trust him.
"Yes," Fen admitted. "It is probable that Elgar'nan will have a plan. He will have tucked part of his soul away, perhaps, but he will have his foci with him. Without that he will be unable to revive once we have killed him in his current body. He will be severely weakened. No longer a threat to Skyhold or its inhabitants."
"But first we have to slay them," Cassandra said, her grip tightening noticeably on her sword's pommel.
"We will," Astlyr assured her friend. Her own hands were balled into fists. A thought struck her. She raised her left palm to the group, "don't forget that we have rifts on our side now. We could drop demons on the enemy, just like we did to the Venatori."
Fen'Harel made a small sound and Astlyr met his gaze to see him shake his head, "the ones we face are also adept in the workings of the Fade. These are no ordinary mages. While unable to open rifts as Astlyr does, they may be able to manipulate them, or to turn the spirits within against us."
Astlyr lowered her hand, feeling foolish, though she did not know why. How was she supposed to know about these gods and their Fade magics? Part of her wondered how much Fen himself could control her rifts, or the monsters that poured from them. He had never done so, to her knowledge, so she suspected what he might achieve would be too little too late. Demons would already be trying to chew off his leg.
"How many gods are we expecting exactly?" Cullen questioned, drawing the topic back to focus. He was still tinkering with troop locations within Skyhold and Astlyr had to bite back a chuckle.
"Elgar'nan and Mythal, of course," Fen'Harel said, selecting two carved dragon figures from the larger map. He placed them in the sketched mountains before Skyhold. "June. He will be dangerous, but not nearly so much as Mythal and her husband."
"Husband?" Cassandra cocked an eyebrow.
"Mythal and Elgar'nan are married, and Andruil, goddess of the hunt, is their daughter," Astlyr explained.
Cullen and Cas looked up at her, "I didn't know you had been studying the elven pantheon," the Seeker said, impressed.
Astlyr hesitated. How had she know that? She couldn't remember reading it, but perhaps Fen or Myfanwy had mentioned it during their travels. Maybe she had read it, in an old tome or inscribed on a carving in her travels during the war with Corypheus. Those days and adventures were beginning to blend and muddle together in her mind as new dangers clamored for her attention. "Who else?" she asked Fen'Harel, hoping to distract her friends, and herself, from her sudden knowledge.
"We saw June find the foci of Falon'Din, the god of death. It is likely he has been revived. His abilities with the dead rival any that live within the world today. At least that I have encountered."
"Falon'Din is my brother," Dirthamen said, his voice quiet, as though he was embarrassed to admit this.
"Will he willingly attack his sibling here in Skyhold? Might he be swayed?" Cullen asked. He was watching Dirthamen intently now, obviously suspicious. If Astlyr was honest, she was uncertain of this 'god of secrets' as well. Could he not just as easily turn to the side of the enemy? Only his words assured her that he would not. Should she keep him back, away from the combat? Could she if he decided to lash out?
Dirthamen had turned his dark eyes to Astlyr, searching her face, and obviously guessing her concerns. "I could try to convince my brother to refuse to fight. I am unlikely to succeed. We...did not part on the best of terms. His ambitions were always quite different from mine. He is my sibling in blood alone, and," he glanced down at himself, "I'm not even certain I can claim that any longer. He brought his gaze back up to level with Astlyr's, "I know of your fears. I am a newcomer to this place, and this time. You have no proof of my loyalty." He reached behind his neck and after a moment managed to untie the leather string he wore. He extended it to Astlyr. "A peace offering?"
Fen'Harel winced, "without your foci your power will be greatly reduced."
"And as I am no mage, I will be of little harm to these people," Dirthamen said, still holding the key on its necklace towards Astlyr.
She took it, careful only to touch it with her right hand, though her left palm still prickled. "Thank you, Dirthamen. I will keep this well, and I will return it to you when the time comes. You have my word."
"Your word is all I need," Dirthamen bowed his head.
"You're very trusting," Cassandra said, looking skeptical, and just as suspicious as she had before.
"The spirits speak highly of your Inquisitor," Dirthamen smiled, once again managing to make his new, homely face look pleasant and friendly. "I trust them above all things."
"Alright," Cullen sighed, pushing himself back from the map. "I think we had all best report to our soldiers and give them the information they will need to win this fight."
"Agreed," Cassandra said, moving towards the door, though her eyes still lingered on Dirthamen.
The three leaders, followed by the three gods, exited the war room together. Astlyr glanced sideways at Fen who had to hurry his stride to walk beside her. "Are you alright?" she asked out of the corner of her mouth.
"No," he whispered back, smiling ruefully. "But it matters little."
"It matters," Astlyr reassured her friend. "This whole situation must be very taxing for you."
"You are most kind to think of me. There are times I wish that we had faded, as I believe was intended. Our time was over had I had not saved us. The Age of the elvhen gods is long passed, yet the gods linger like memories best forgotten. The Age of the dragon must go on."
"I wouldn't want to forget you."
He hesitated, seemingly caught off guard by her words. "You..." he began walking again, carefully eying Cas and Cullen, who were talking animatedly to one another and doing their best not to listen in to Astlyr's conversation. "You have been a true friend to me. Better than I deserve by far."
"Damn right," Astlyr nudged him with her arm. "Just don't vanish on me again when I need you, alright?"
"I will not leave you without warning again. You have my word." Fen said, smiling wanly.
Astlyr and her company stepped out onto the main stairs overlooking the courtyard. Astlyr was struck by a feeling of deep nostalgia. Once a qunari woman, hardly recognizable as the Inquisitor, had stood in this spot and raised a sword above her head. A symbol of what she was, and more importantly, what she would become. She looked down at the gathering soldiers, the readying men and women at her command. They stopped in their work, looking up towards her. She tried to make out individual faces. To her pleasure, she could. Her building crew was there, and some of the guard she knew. A few of the healers and kitchen staff had been out, serving a lunch of warm stew to all. She was pleased to see the slight figure of the helpful elf from the kitchens. She would need to learn his name, she realized as she took in his trusting face.
She felt a surge of confidence for the first time that day. They believed she could succeed. They believed they could. Succeed they had done, and succeed they would, again and again against all comers.
*****War is coming. War is on it's way...
(Stars singing)
INTO THE DARKNESS
WE WILL RUUUUUN!
*Ahem* Sorry. Yeah. Angry elves are coming, but don't worry because we have a plan and a tiny model of Skyhold. Plus we have gods of our own right? Well, at least one... Save us Fen!
Astlyr and Alistair would get along waaaaay too well. Good thing he only had a cameo in the game. Cullen seems to have calmed down a little bit about the whole "king standing right there!" thing.
Next: 8/20/15
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I know, I'm a broken record, but feel free to stop over at DA and check out the first chapter of an original fantasy story
The White Rose Chapter 1
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