When Blights ravage the land, without fail you will encounter the consequences of the spreading Taint, even where the Darkspawn themselves have not yet arrived.
When the Taint seeps through the earth, it is only ever a matter of time before it hits the underground streams. Once this occurs, the Taint spreads exponentially faster than the Darkspawn Horde could ever hope to match, and will follow the groundwater streams along their natural route, which always, always, takes the corruption through villages and townships, and spreads into other rivers.
In this way, half a nation can become infected and infested with ghouls before the Darkspawn themselves even arrive, making the biggest threat of the Blight the threat you cannot see. The corruption is only faintly visible in the water, as a slightly darker haze, making the water appear somewhat murky. The usual methods of filtration, such as the earth itself, does little to stem this corruption, and as such village-wells and river-streams should not be used as sources of drinking-water under any circumstances once a Blight has begun within a hundred miles.
When drinking the taint instead of simply being exposed to it, a radical type of Ghoul is produced as a result, named a 'Bloater' for the way its sunken skin and decomposed flesh causes the body's internal rot to produce gasses that expand and cause the bloating. While no less or more dangerous or physically powerful than regular Ghouls, Bloaters are often the symptom every Warden fears the most, as it means the Blight has spread beyond their ability to contain, and the only cure for the land will be to slay the Archdemon, so as to cause the Blight itself to retreat.
This in turn has often beggared the question as to whether the Blight itself is conscious, rather than a "mere" force of corruption.
Warden Talia Aulus, "Symptoms, Causes and Effects of the Fifth Blight".
When the unexpected happens.
A certain young Breton was not a happy camper, especially considering the location Alistair, their glorious leader, had chosen the previous night.
It really wasn't so much the location itself, or what had occured during the evening, but rather, how her morning had started. Intent on making use of the river to get the grime washed out of her hair, or at least get her feet soaked in pure, cold water, Talia had encountered something of a surprise when she had taken off her boots at the stream.
Ghouls, namely. And quite a lot of them.
"This! Is! Not what I expected when you said we were camping by the riverside, Alistair!" Talia yelled, vaulting backwards through the air, fire at her feet propelling her out of harm's way as clawed hands swiped at her. Bruised chainmail at her front already proved them quite capable of tearing through armor.
She'd been more than elated at the idea of camping at the last river before their stretch alongside Lake Calenhad to Redcliffe, mainly because it'd be a chance at washing the grime out of her hair and clothes. Instead, their early morning had been interrupted by blue, humanoid creatures coming at them out of the water, and what should have been a calm morning had become an outright battle.
"Yeah well, excuse me for not knowing about-" he bit back, breaking in his words as his shield was ripped from his hands. He responded in kind by separating the creature at the waist with a single swipe; "I didn't think the taint'd gotten this far north already!"
Great. Talia bit back a curse at their illustrious leader's lack of foresight, and instead focused on decapitating the closest of the blue and bloated ghouls. There were a lot of them, and they lacked the self-preservation instincts to make them stay back, meaning she was barely holding on from being rushed by clawing hands and snarling teeth. She couldn't even use fire on them, because for some reason she couldn't comprehend, these things were more or less fireproof, and didn't seem to care when she threw fireballs at them.
Because they needed this right now, after everything else that'd already happened. The 'Bloaters' as Alistair had hurriedly referred to them as - meaning he was yelling it as a warning when they'd suddenly come pouring out of the waters - were rabid in their ferocity, but at least made up for it by being essentially ghouls having spent too much time in the water. They were soggy and gangly in their movements, and as long as she stayed out of reach of those damn claws, Talia did not have the most pressing problems cutting them down to size.
Not even a second passed after she'd dispatched her opponent before a new came at her, clad in what resembled rags and remnants of pants. It was pretty disgusting to look at with the bloated and blue skin, but far more critical was the fact that it didn't even drop once she nearly cleaved its skull in a horizontal split. The stupid fucker just snarled at her, a long fleshy tongue emerging from its jaws to slither across her blade, even as she had the metal ablaze. The decaying tissue started sizzling and steaming and charring, yet the Bloater didn't seem to mind, even going as far as still grabbing for her when the tongue was burned apart and fell to the mucky ground.
Milky eyes glared at her, revealing what she could have become. This could have been her. There were things Talia knew she shouldn't rationally be afraid of, and this was one of them. Yet, she couldn't shake it. The concept alone, of becoming a ghoul, was enough to bring her to the edge of vomiting.
"Get AWAY FROM ME!" she screamed, kicking the Bloated in the groin with enough force that the steel of her boots became briefly stuck in the necrotic flesh;
"Just-" she yanked the blade from its head and directed a blast of fire into the opened wound, blowing the top off the creature's head and throwing it to the ground; "-fucking DIE!"
She ended up having pretty sore arms, though, once the last of them had been skewered.
"Okay…fuck, what…were those things?" Cíada gasped, kneeling over with her hands on her knees. Cullen was at her side, checking her for wounds; "I know I'm not…I don't know all the…things you guys do, but…Fen'Harrel's hairy ass, what…the fuck were they?"
"Bloaters." Alistair growled, more frustration than anger in his voice; "They shouldn't have appeared yet, not this far north…They're what happens when the victims drink the taint, instead of just being near it…Maker's sodding breath, this means the water table has been infected."
"Oh…Cock." Daveth groaned, pressing his eyes shut; "That means we've no clue's to how many's been infected already?"
"No…the process is similar to normal ghoulification, just…spreads faster." He sighed and plucked off his helmet, revealing a sweaty, angry frown; "From now on, no one drinks anything before Brelyna has purified it." He turned to the Dunmer; "So far your restoration spells is the only known magic to actively combat the taint once it's infected something."
"U-Understood." Brelyna nodded without hesitation, warily glancing at some of the yet twitching corpses. Talia, still shaking from frustration, fright and adrenaline, didn't even bother asking why she hadn't been asked as well. It was a poorly kept secret that she still started bleeding all over the place when healing anything more than a superficial scratch.
And seeing as Alistair now knew more or less what was going on with her and her blood, it was pretty understandable that he didn't want her blood getting in the water. It wasn't even that she blamed him for it, seeing how she didn't want to see the consequences of something like that either. She'd survived because of her pre-existing immune-system and the fact that she'd chugged antidotes since year one. Brelyna, for example, hadn't.
"What does this mean, then, that every village around here's going to be infected?" Aedan sighed, walking up next to Alistair. His armor's front was covered in blood of an indistinguishable color, somewhere between black, red and blue, and sort of mashing said colors all over the place.
It reminded Talia of how mashed up her own blood was.
"We can't ignore that possibility…" Alistair growled, sheathing his sword; "…we also can't do anything about it right now."
"…you're saying we just ignore it?" Brelyna demanded as much as she asked; "T-there could be hundreds of-"
"Thousands of people likely to be infected, yes, I know!" Their leader snapped. It was the first time Talia had actually seen him do that, seen him suddenly become this angry; "I am perfectly well aware of what's going on, Brelyna! Don't think I'm not, because I am. I know innocents are being corrupted by the Blight, even as we speak, and that it is the duty of the Grey Wardens to combat it."
"Then why-" she continued, actually now looking genuinely angry with him.
"I also know that we are five Wardens, possibly the only Wardens in all of Ferelden. We don't have the numbers, resources or time to do what we're supposed to." Alistair's usually somewhat positive demeanor was gone, replaced by a scowl; "Any time we take to go help out those villages is time we lose preventing the actual Darkspawn Horde from going north towards the cities. We help the villages, possibly ending up just purging them, we might just return to find Redcliffe or Denerim razed."
Brelyna visibly deflated, though the fire still burned in her eyes.
"…leave a hundred to save a thousand…then leave a thousand to save a nation…" she whispered, and Talia recognized the phrase from the history books, going all the way back to the battle of the Red Mountain. It sent a chill down her spine to hear her friend say it, and only added to her mounting sense of nausea at the idea of basically abandoning so many to die because Loghain had stabbed them in the back at Ostagar, and Howe turned traitor; "…I never thought I'd experience something like this."
"...None of us did." Alistair muttered, his expression changing from a scowl to one of simple defeat; "War is never fair, especially to the innocents…Burn the bodies, then we move on."
Talia complied, snapping her fingers at the decayed bodies. Once they were dead, they caught fire easily enough, and combusted as her spell engulfed them. She'd expected her first real use of the Flashfire spell to be somewhat less…depressing.
Two days later, having followed the road along Lake Calenhad, Redcliffe came into sight. The weather was getting to be beyond merely cold, and Talia caught more than one envious stare from her non-mage companions as she warmed her hands with fire. She'd offer to share it, but knew her friends weren't exactly fireproof.
Traveling along the lake had the disadvantage of also being damp, which just worsened the effects of the cold. Alistair had already started sniffing, and Leliana was, as she was wont, already working on a full-blown cold, eyes red and nose running. Talia knew it was likely because the redhead had lived in the Chantry for so long that she'd gotten used to being inside and warm during the winter, though that didn't diminish the mixture of pity and amusement towards the former sister. Herself, she'd lived three years in Winterhold - this was barely autumn compared to how Skyrim could get.
The general mood improved a little upon seeing the towers of Redcliffe castle in the distance, though it was still far from being positive. The revelation that the taint had infected the water this far up was enough to kill any sense of good mood, and only served to cause concern to gnaw at the guts. What if Redcliffe had been infected?
The thought alone was enough to make her shudder with horror and revulsion. She'd seen what happened now, when people drank the taint. She never wanted to see the same effects, the same horror befall the people of Redcliffe, neither the village nor the castle. Images started flashing by in her mind, of people she'd come to know and even like in Redcliffe. Gilmore, Eleanor, the people living in the castle, Sister Giselle, Owyn, the little girl she'd given a Septim…she saw them all in her mind, pale-skinned with dark veins running across their faces, eyes milky and dead.
Dear gods, she wanted to run away, wanted to run to Redcliffe and as far away from the village as possible, all at the same time. Her mind didn't want to make sense, didn't want to accept that she might find something absolutely horrible when they returned. She didn't want to see Aedan's reaction to finding his mother as a ghoul, or Alistair's at the Arl.
"Are you feeling alright, Talia?" a marble-skinned hand gently held her shoulder as a horse trotted up next to hers. Brelyna was looking at her from under the cover of her hood, those red eyes of her gleaming with both depression and sympathy. Warm and red and alluring in a way that was so completely, utterly innocent and unintentional that it had more than once tempted the redhead with lewd fantasies. Now, they just held the warmth of a friend, worried.
"Fine." She replied, averting her eyes. There was no way she wanted Brelyna's mind to go the same way her own had, and she couldn't lie to her face. It was a universal impossibility that she'd come to face long ago.
"…you don't look fine." The girl pointed out, unceremoniously pulling down Talia's hood, exposing her to the cold; "Did you even sleep last night, or the night before that?"
"I…" she started, scrounging up her face. It was beyond annoying when the Dunmer could read her like that; "…why wouldn't I have slept?"
"…Talia…"
"I said I'm fine, okay!" she snapped, regretting it almost as soon as the words came over her lips. Brelyna winced, and the hurt in her eyes was enough to make Talia's insides crumple up like wet paper. She felt like shit, especially because she knew her friend only asked out of well-meaning concern; "I…look, I'm just…I…Sorry, I didn't mean to…I might not have slept that well recently, and it may have something to do with the Bloaters…"
"It's okay, I shouldn't have pressed you."
"N-gngg…No, giving you shit for being worried isn't okay, damn it!" She growled and bit down on her lips. Pain helped a little with the guilt. Her grip tightened on the reins to the point where the leather left markings in her palms; "Especially because I wouldn't be surprised if you knew I missed sleep because you couldn't sleep either."
"I'm fine, Dunmers can go without sleep for a few days, you know…" Brelyna smiled faintly, and somehow it brought back images of waking in the middle of the night, back at the College, only to find the elven girl seated at a desk, studying at three in the morning. Back then, Talia had viewed it as an unfair advantage, but now… "I just…I'm repulsed by the idea of knowingly abandoning so many to potentially being infected, simply because there aren't enough Wardens."
"I know, you've always been a right worry-wart…with far too much conscience for your own good." The redhead couldn't quite help the tiny smile. It was amazing just how fast talking with Brelyna could help her mood; "But…Alistair's right. Even with Sten and whenever we get Jowan through the Joining, we're still way too few Wardens to really…do anything beyond the big things." She pursed her lips thinly and shifted to Dunmeri; "…I don't know if Leliana could ever become a Warden, since I don't know if she'd survive the Joining, and Cullen is far too devoted to the Templars, plus I don't really trust him…Cíada would never be allowed by the Circle to leave, and probably wouldn't want to anyway. Wynne is out of the question since the Joining might just do her in, and Morrigan is…Just no."
Brelyna nodded and, for a few moments, remained silent.
"You did not mention neither me nor J'zargo." She finally said, mentioning the scenario Talia had feared since seeing her classmates after having escaped Ostagar; "…you do not want us as Grey Wardens, even though more are desperately needed?"
"I...It's not a matter of whether I want it or not, it's…the Joining, you know it involves drinking Darkspawn blood. I don't know if doing that would have…side-effects on anyone not a human, dwarf or elf, and…not your kind of elf either."
"What are they saying?" Talia's eyes glanced back at where Cíada was whispering to Daveth. Neither seemed to realize they'd been heard; "…it's not the trade-tongue, and it's not Dalish, I think…?"
"Special secret language those two have." Daveth grinned, shaking his head; "Never have been able to tell a single word apart."
"You are Breton, Talia." Brelyna pointed out; "And a half-elf at that too."
"I also got a dozen antidotes in with my milk and porridge from before I could walk." She pointed out right back at her; "And even then you know just how close I…you know how it nearly went wrong at Ostagar. If it hadn't been for all the antidotes… and Wynne, I wouldn't have survived."
"I…forgot about that." The Dunmer muttered dejectedly; "I just…I hate walking away, turning my back on people who need me. I want to help, somehow, and…and I just don't think I…"
"Don't" Talia interrupted her. She knew where this was going, and if she allowed her friend to finish, turning her down would be all the harder; "You are already doing so much more than I ever could. All I can do is destroy things. You can fix them, fix people. I can't even heal a bruise on someone else without having to wash my own blood off afterwards. Being a Grey Warden would only put you more at risk, and wouldn't do much good."
Lies, most of it. She knew becoming a Warden would probably increase Brelyna's magical prowess manifold, but she'd already seen Aedan almost die from the Joining. She didn't want to go through that again. If she had to lie to make sure Brelyna survived this shitstorm, she damn well would, and be able to look herself in the mirror afterwards. Morals and that kind of trust didn't mean a thing when it came down to baseline survival.
It was very much not a thing a Grey Warden should do, but right now she put the well-being of her friends before that of a nation.
And she knew this probably wouldn't mean Brelyna would drop the idea. Stubbornness was something they had in common to an often frustrating degree.
Still, it wasn't enough of a worry that her mind could stick with it as the sounds of metal on metal, swords on swords, reached her ears.
Talia perked up, already aware of where the noise came from when Alistair seemed to notice as well. Their leader kicked his horse into a faster gait, and the rest of them took their cue to follow up. Casting a glance at Aedan, she could see the concern starting to make its way onto his face, unobstructed by the opened visor. She mirrored him as he sped up, and kicked Niko into a canter.
As they approached Redcliffe, what first struck the group was the fact that the Hinterlands, more specifically the fields and meadows closest to the walls and gates of the village, were currently occupied with hundreds and hundreds of armored figures. It was enough of a shock to make Alistair halt their approach, even as the small army before them seemed to remain oblivious to their arrival, and instead carried on with mock-fighting amongst themselves, and beating up hay-dummies with swords, spears and polearms.
"That's…definitely a lot more soldiers than last time we were here…" Aedan muttered, visibly calmer now that they knew what was making the noise. Talia suspected he'd shared her fear that Loghain or Howe or even the Darkspawn had attacked Redcliffe in their absence. Realizing that the sounds of fighting simply came from the sellswords and banner-men of Redcliffe was a clear relief; "Seems like the Arl's been busy."
"More likely t'is your Bann Teagan who has continued his work." Morrigan commented dryly as transformed back into her human form next to Alistair's horse. At this point he'd simply stopped reacting to her when she did her damnest to surprise him; "When I overflew the walls, I saw a great many wagons inside the village. Many more than when we left, which causes me to wonder what might have changed."
"Wagons?" Talia leaned forward in her saddle and glanced at the witch; "…like, refugee-wagons?"
All she received was a shrug, telling them in no uncertain terms that Morrigan didn't know either. Alistair merely sighed at that, as if he'd come to expect nothing else from the still somewhat anti-social apostate. And as always, their interactions made Talia think of a pair of siblings. It would have been funny if it wasn't potentially detrimental to their survival.
"Wardens?" they were challenged at the gates by one of the townsfolk, only now instead of the sorry scraps of brigandine, the man was clad in simple, yet probably a lot more effective plate-armor. He was leaning against his spear as if he'd barely gotten any sleep at all, and it was actually pretty uplifting, if only because it drove home that nothing was really wrong; "…didn't know you'd left? I…well, I suppose you've not heard of the elves then?"
"…come again?" Alistair opened his visor and stared at the man; "…what elves?"
"Them Dalish, 'course, Ser Warden." The villager hurriedly explained; "Came a week ago, hundreds of 'em, and the Arl'n the Good Lady Cousland let 'em in. Didn't sit no right with the lot o' us for some time, but…they've done no harm, and keep to 'emselves most of them time. Says they help with the Blight' n all, so I 'spose that's why they're in, right?"
"…The Dalish are here?" Alistair repeated the man's words, receiving a nod; "…as in, the Dalish we have to seek out, have all come here, to Redcliffe, on their own accord?"
"…dunno 'bout their own accord, Ser, but I'd seen one of them wasn't like the others. Lot taller than them all, and acted like nothin's odd about her bein' here…" he paused as his eyes traced over their group, and stopped altogether when he saw Brelyna; "…Blight take me, thought she'd be up'n the castle still."
"…I'm…sorry?" Brelyna muttered, tilting her head in the same confusion the rest of them were currently undergoing. Had something been lost in translation? The man had one of the thickest accents Talia had ever heard, so it wasn't impossible; "…why would I still be in the castle?"
"So…there's two of you grey elves then?" the man asked aloud, scratching his chin; "Maker's breath, I ain't made for this kinda stress. First one then two, then four? I dunno 'bout what's exactly going on, then…So, you'd be the younger one, then? Mary-somethin'?"
"Maryon, yes…" Brelyna nodded, then paused in obvious surprise; "…do we know each other?"
"Ah…Eh…No, not rightly…" the man stammered, hiding his eyes underneath the wide-brimmed metal hat; "'s just, didn't get a chance to offer me thanks for that night, yet…thought I'd say 'em now, so…ah, much appreciate the help with those undead, Serah Maryon and…I mean, just go through, I'm keepin' you lot up and…Good day…"
"…you're…welcome, I think?" Alistair muttered uncertainly, glancing back at Brelyna; "…right?"
Brelyna, however, was far too busy trying to hide within her hood to respond. She'd never been good with praise, especially not the kind that came from saving someone's home. Academic praise she'd never had problems with, but this…Talia had to admit, it was all kinds of absolutely adorable.
Still, what the guard had said stuck with her, even as they entered the village. While the others seemed more curious than anything, she couldn't help a nagging sensation from stirring in her chest. The man hadn't known Brelyna was gone, because there was another Dunmer in Redcliffe?
The idea alone was more than fantastical, yet she was here, so why not more Tamrielans? While implausible, it wasn't strictly impossible. Actually, the harder she thought about it, it would make sense for any wayward Dunmers to follow any word of others of their kind, and then end up in Redcliffe.
After all, Brelyna seemed to have become quite the known figure, even outside of Redcliffe. The merchants outside of Orzammar had even more than once whispered what sounded suspiciously like "the Grey Lady", a name Talia could only imagine attributed to her classmate. It seemed her friend had achieved far more of a reputation than intended, and people no longer even seemed to contemplate whether or not she was an abomination or not when they saw her.
So, that was a good thing. Wasn't it?
It still didn't solve the problem that the guard had told them of a second Dunmer, or at least, a grey elf. She couldn't imagine that as anything but a Dunmer, and couldn't come to terms with the fact that someone else from Tamriel had arrived while they'd been gone. It seemed far too precisely timed to be a mere coincidence, paranoid as she might be.
It couldn't be Savos Aren, for obvious reasons. The guard had specifically stated that the other Dunmer was also a woman, which narrowed down the list of candidates quite a lot. Since Mother had made it clear in the letter that she would allow Talia to make her own decisions, that left her out. Then, it could be someone from Brelyna's family? House Maryon was still a quite expansive House, and there was no way they would just take her disappearance lying down, was there? On the other hand, she knew very little of Brelyna's family beyond the fact that she didn't like talking about them.
And in the end, it could be a complete stranger. Nirn wasn't so small that they had to know whatever Dunmer had found her way here.
"So…you think you know her, the Dunmer I mean?" Aedan was riding next to her, watching her with a slightly amused expression. He seemed far more curious now that they suddenly found the Dalish to be ready and on standby. Frankly, it was more than a little unnerving just how much their luck seemed to have changed for the better in a matter of hours.
Even the knowledge of the tainted water seemed to be flowing to the backs of everyone's minds the more healthy villagers they rode past. However far the corruption had spread, it hadn't reached Redcliffe yet, which meant everyone here were still alive and…not ghouls.
"Aedan, there are more than sixty thousand Dunmers living outside of Morrowind alone, and I don't even know how many live in Morrowind." She gave him a flat look, which quickly became a grin as her words left him openly flustered. It was pretty damn cute, and almost made her forget about the fact that he still didn't know of her…condition. It really was a laugh; most women her age would have called a 'condition' being pregnant.
She was dragging a dragon around in her head. If that wasn't a special condition, she didn't know what was.
"Right…" he fumbled with the reins as he looked down; "…sorry, I guess I still can't imagine an entire people like Brelyna or J'zargo or…you know. It's just, there's so much going on right now, and then suddenly there's another one of your countrymen here. It's just…surprising."
"…got that right." She sighed, slumping in her saddle. It was annoying that something like that'd just happened while they were gone, and no one had known about it; "Still, right now I just want to get back to the castle, dump myself in a hot, soapy bath and get something to eat…doesn't matter which order those last two are in, by the way." She smiled, a lewd grin threatening to break through; "You have something planned for tonight?"
The way he still blushed like a ripe apple never seemed to get old. Still, he at least remained coherent and didn't fall off his horse. She still didn't even have to outright imply anything that was remotely intimate, just asking like this was enough to send his mind straight into the gutter. Aedan might be straight as an arrow, but...well, he was straight as an arrow, which made him so easy to tease and prod.
He was probably going to make her pay for it later, though.
"I'm going to head for the Dalish." Alistair halted his horse near the crossroads between the village center and the road to the castle; "Sten, you're coming with me. Rest of you, I guess you're free to do as you wish right now. Dismissed."
And like that, their glorious leader dismounted, handed Daveth the reins for his horse, and accompanied by Sten he trudged off towards the gathering of wagons and sails. Honestly, it looked more like a cluster of boats had somehow misplaced themselves, watching it was this distance. Talia had never actually met the Dalish, or seen their culture, so she was understandably curious.
From their vantage-point above the village proper, the group could see what looked like the preparation for a festive event of some kind. Villagers were propping up stands and poles, and several of the sellswords and mercenaries actually seemed to be pitching in.
"J'zargo wonders what the villagers are building down there."
"It's Harvestmere, I think. I'm not sure what date we have though…" Aedan explained, earning himself a curious glance from not just the cat, but the other Tamrielans as well; "You don't have that in Tamriel? There's a festival when the harvest's been brought in traditionally, though I didn't know they'd still hold it in the middle of a Blight…"
"Speaks of love for traditions, I guess?" Brelyna mused, a curious smile on her face; "Harvest's End sounds a lot like that, but it'd be back in Last Seed, so perhaps two moths ago?"
"Does your Harvest's End involve copious amounts of alcohol?" Cíada asked with a grin that was half curiosity and half amusement; "'cause Harvestmere means you drink till you drop, eat and celebrate a good harvest, and offer boons to the pre-Chantry gods of harvest."
"I didn't think the Chantry would allow something like that?" Talia cocked her head and glanced at the diminutive elf; "I mean, shouldn't they be pretty obsessed with wiping out any traces of paganism?"
"Meh, depends on the nation. Orlais's tighter than even the Dalish when it comes to tolerating other religions, but Ferelden's always been a bit more…well, free-spirited."
"…that was a horrible pun." Cullen sighed.
"…shut up, it was the best I could come up with." The elf muttered, turning her face from the Templar. It only had the unintended effect of giving Talia a full view of the girl's blushing cheeks. Right, those two had a thing. It was pretty easy to overlook most of the time; "Anyway, the Fereldan Chantry doesn't really crack down on it as hard as most others, so it lets the people retain some ties to the old gods."
"Like the Dragons?" Brelyna asked.
"Not…no, not really. Well, when I said "old gods" I guess that'd be what you'd think of, but we're talking, like, older than the Tevinter Empire, before Ferelden even existed as a nation."
"So, more like spirits of nature, then?"
"Pretty much, yeah." Cíada nodded, a small grin spreading on her lips; "Reminds me, they say Harvestmere's the second-best time to go for the object of your affections, next after Cloudreach."
"Cloudreach?"
"Spring's beginning, first month after winter." Cullen helpfully added.
"Harvestmere's also the one time Chantry-clerics are allowed to drink, so you'll be seeing them chug down with the worst of 'em, I guarantee it." The elf grinned openly, eying where some of the Chantry sisters were walking amongst the workers, offering warm soup and water.
Talia would be lying if she'd said the promises of alcohol, good food and encouraged romantic activities didn't entice her.
Still, right now she had something of an obligation. There was someone new from Tamriel here, and as the only Tamrielan Warden, she supposed it fell to her to ensure that whomever this new woman was, she at least knew there were familiar faces around. Well, familiar as it got, really.
She was probably scared shitless. Either that or she simply didn't care, since there didn't seem to be any traces of magical destruction in eyesight. And there was no way a Dunmer could arrive here without being somewhat proficient with magic, meaning any fights would have caused visible alterations to the scenery.
"Septim for your thoughts?" Aedan mused at her side, startling Talia from her reverie. It wasn't so much the fact that he'd said anything as the fact that he'd used the Tamrielan manner of speech. Had she really been that much of an influence on him, or had he just picked it up as he went?
"…What?"
"That's the…that's how you'd say it, right?" he tried, uncertainty clear in his words; "I mean, you looked like something was bothering you?"
"Ah…right, yeah, it's just…it irritates me that this happened, that there's another Dunmer here, anyone from Tamriel, really, and it just…happened without us knowing." She sighed and rolled her shoulders, reins wavering as her hands lifted; "Not that I really mind, mind you, just…if something like that can happen out of nowhere, what else's going on without us having a clue?"
"Probably a whole lot, I'd say." Aedan mused, a wry smile on his lips. Huh, his beard was already starting to come back. She'd made sure he was shaven when they left Orzammar, if nothing else then simply for the pleasure of having a smooth, unhindered face to kiss. She didn't mind kissing him with a beard either, not really, but there was something to be said for smooth, freshly shaven skin
Same reason she shaved, after all. Plus, the beard he'd had when they'd reunited after the Deep Roads had concealed almost half of his tattoo. She liked that tattoo. It gave him a sort of exotic appeal.
"Think your mother's met her, I mean, if she's at the castle too?"
"Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised." He chuckled, briefly glancing back at Brelyna. The Dunmer seemed far more interested in watching the Dalish wagons than the ongoing conversation; "She's been beyond curious since meeting Brelyna the first time, so I'd make that my guess. Provided this new woman isn't, you know…rude."
"Yeah…Depending on the region, some of them can be a bit…meh." Talia really wasn't sure how else to put it. She couldn't exactly place blame based on family or House, seeing as Brelyna was one of the most humble people she knew, and she was from the Telvani, of all Houses. She withheld a frown as they passed by the guards at the start of the drawbridge. Both men started whispering furiously the moment they thought themselves out of earshot. Weird; "Still, there's no sign of absolute havoc, so at least we can guess there hasn't been any outright fights."
"Good…Maker's Breath, I could use a rest." He sighed, leaning back in his saddle; "Right now, I just want to sit down, or lie down, somewhere, and not have to worry about something trying to stab me in the face."
Having no real response to that, Talia simply nodded and hummed her agreement, a hum that eventually became a lighthearted laugh.
She would still be aiming for a hot soak, and could already feel the warm waters hugging her skin. Redcliffe didn't have a pipe-system, so showers were not an option, but still…eventually she was going to have to get someone, maybe Owyn, to prick a brass-bowl full of holes and hang it up.
It was such an excruciatingly simple implementation, yet she hadn't seen a single shower outside of Bankorai yet. Winterhold, Skyrim all in all, for obvious reasons did not have showers. The Nords might bathe regularly, but the hardy folk of the North would more often simply toss themselves in the nearest freezing stream than spend time inventing proper bathing facilities.
Once again, High Rock was blessed that the Dwemer had left behind so many advanced contraptions.
Talia smiled at the thought, steering Niko at the stables. He welcomed the waiting hay and rest with evident joy, and seemed even more relieved once she had dismounted, dropping into Aedan's waiting arms. Niko gets hay, I get Ae…dan. Bugger, doesn't rhyme…
Still, briefly pressing Aedan's chest against hers, resting her face in his neck, was more than enough to make up for lack of lyrical qualities. Didn't matter that he was armored and she was technically just resting her forehead on the finely knitted mail protecting the sides of his neck, or that the leather-rim at the top of the neck-guard was damp with sweat.
It was Aedan, so the details didn't really matter, and she relished in the fact that for once, no one interrupted them.
"What's crackin' guys? It's time for another round of 'Noble Senpai is back, bitches!'"
Yeah, he's back. Glory be to that magnificent bastard.
In other news, I really am a fan of sappy scenes.
Yeah, I know, it shouldn't belong in an active war for survival, but at the same time, intimacy and compassion are the best ways for a lot of people to deal with emotional stress. In Talia's case, her foundations are lodged firmly in her classmates and Aedan, for different reasons, while Aedan keeps sane by holding onto the fact that his mother and Sir Gilmore at least survived Redcliffe, and that he has Talia to keep him stable when traversing Ferelden in the middle of a sodding Blight.
Compare it to how soldiers these days usually end up needing therapists and the like to recover from being in active war-zones. It's messed up and ugly, but at least they're just facing normal human beings, something you know can be killed and know how to kill. Grey Wardens are fighting monsters that, quite literally, come out of the nightmares of children. Add to that the fact that you can't stab the Taint with your sword and make it die, and you have a serious emotional cluster-fuck that'll leave pretty much anyone scared and mentally unhinged if they don't have a source of strength to draw from.
Alistair is a good example of this. He doesn't yet know where he stands with Leliana, and the uncertainty makes him bottle everything up until he ends up snapping at others for the smallest things, or eventually simply suffer a mental breakdown. The game never really showed it that much, but he's under monumental stress, and the discovery of the Bloaters only adds to it.
So, with that in mind, I'm planning at least a few chapters without emotional trauma, plot-twists or brutal death. Hopefully you'll appreciate it as much as I will.
So, with that in mind, I'll see you next time.
