"Quit shoving me" Al complains, after I nudge him back again. "You made your point – she stole my idea to swim in the lake, or bathe. Whatever."
Just making sure you're at a respectful distance. And if I stay here on perimeter duty, she can't force me to get scrubbed. Win/Win. So stop belly-aching... you're hurting my head, and I'm trying to figure out the weird dream from last night. I think you were in it – we were in the strangest city...
Al leans against a house, and glares. "So long as she hurries up – I'm sure everyone would appreciate finally getting a decent wash again."
Speak for yourself.
"Okay – everyone who's not a crazy swamp-hag, rock-monster or unable to imbibe non-alcoholic liquids like Oghren would probably like a bath... and you don't count."
Excuse me?
"First: You've made your disdain for hygiene clear on multiple occasions."
Or Mabari are naturally superior, and don't need to washed down as often.
He taps another finger. "Second: I remember exactly when your last bath was, so I know you're not due. It was... 8 days ago."
You're keeping track? … Creepy.
"It's etched in my memory – Wynne had to drag you off to a stream, and then you started crying like a hawk-struck rabbit. So much for the legendary Mabari poise and dignity."
Hmmph! … Your pack smells of old cheese, so … shut up! Good going, by the way – saying her name just made Biddy appear.
"I didn't think rabbits made noise, once a hawk got them" she corrects Al, walking up the path. Ever the teacher...
"... Whatever it's called, when they spot a predator. They either bolt, or freeze and scream. Or the great big fat ones might try to bite and kick. Fight, flight, or fright, one of the Redcliffe stable-hands used to say."
"... Hawk-stricken, I'd suppose for that circumstance?"
Al shrugs. "Yeah, that probably works better."
"It would be an effective defence tactic, if they do make the kind of sound you make during a bath" the evil old bat adds, turning to me.
… You can shut up as well.
"He'll drag you through a thorn bush, next time, if you keep laying into him" Mistress warns, appearing on the hill. "We lost two kennel workers that way."
Al and Biddy look at each other, and he motions for her to go up the hill. "You first, since you healed me up and all."
She gives a satisfied smile, and heads off. "Thank you, Alistair."
Get back in line! … She'll expect that every time, you do realise?
"You better hope she doesn't take too long, or you'll have to wash with the others" Mistress notes, joining us.
"Eh. Between our Chantry accommodations, and Sten being a soldier, it's not like we've never seen group baths."
"Chantry, eh? You're expecting Leliana to-"
"... Circle quarters, if you're going to be smart. She got up early, to pray and bathe" Al snorts.
Mistress smiles overly innocently. "Ah... and you noticed when she got up, since...?"
"I got woken by the breeze, when she opened the-" he stops, and notices her face. "... Yes, because you didn't already know this."
"I know... I just wanted to see if you'd still blush and ramble about lamp-posts" she smirks.
"I'm not sure I like you in a good mood" Al grumbles. "What has got you so quirky, anyway?"
She leans against the house, next to him. "Perspective, I think. Between the Temple, and something I overheard... I don't know, I think I can stop whipping myself over what we have or haven't done."
"Mmm – the Temple's good at making you think, I found. So, what did you overhear?"
"The morning before we reached Honnleath, I guess they didn't think I was awake yet, but Sten got into an argument with Daylen and Oghren. He was giving his usual rant about my leadership, with what we'd heard about West Hills falling, and I guess they'd had enough."
"Oh?"
"Oghren started off by calling him a whiny nug-sniffer, amongst some more colourful insults, and saying how if a Dwarven soldier kept trying to undermine their commander as much as Sten, back in Orzammar, he would have gotten publicly flogged as the half-time entertainment at a Proving. Then Daylen chimed in – I get that your people have never actually had to deal with one, but even the shortest Blight lasted a decade. Since you know nothing about it, how about you fucking shut up and listen to the Wardens, or Oghren since he has real experience with Darkspawn battles?"
Al whistles in surprise. "... How did our favourite Qunari take that?"
"I don't know, honestly, I wasn't game to stick my head out and have them know I heard everything. He hasn't had a go at me since, for what it's worth." She smacks a fist against her left shoulder. "And I think my boys, or whatever they've decided to be, standing up for me like that, might be embarrassed. But he was right... the shortest Blight was 12 years or something. Driving myself insane for not ending a Blight in..." she quickly counts in her head, "eight months is pointless. We aren't meant to be amazing heroes; we're just the messengers to make everyone get off their arses. Like my father told me, up in the Temple, I've got nothing to be guilty about. I just need to keep going, and deal with what's in front of us."
Al nods thoughtfully, before finally answering."The weight's in our hands, not on our shoulders... and we'll pass it off to other people."
"... Yeah, exactly." Mistress wipes her still-damp hair back, and offers her other arm out to Al. "So it's still you and me, but we won't face this shit alone. If I was a bitch, I apologise, and swear we'll get through it together."
Grinning wildly, he grips her lower arm and they exchange a firm shake. "I've got your back, no matter what... and I apologise if I got too whiny at the beginning."
She lets go, and lets her arm drop. "... Amanda Cousland, since we're doing this properly now."
"Right, of course. Alistair, as you know."
"... O'Stables?" she asks, swallowing a laugh.
"... Huh?"
"If we have to introduce you formally, to Marcher Wardens or somebody. Alistair O'Stables."
Al shakes his head. "... Well, it's better than Theirin... but absolutely not."
"McKennelly?"
"... I hope you haven't wasted much thought on these" he fake-winces. "Seriously."
"Well, excuse me. You never told me the name of those flying Anders dogs who raised you, you know. Quite rude of you, actually."
"Oh, of course... well, since you were actually listening to what I said back then, I suppose I must. The Skyslobberers? I don't know, you make one up."
"Droolfang." Mistress bursts out laughing. "Alistair Droolfang, of Clan Droolfang."
He groans, watching her try to get her breathe back. "... If we have to meet with the nobles, let's use that. Just to see their reaction."
"... Great, done." Mistress offers another smile, more relaxed now. "I don't think I actually asked – how are you and Leliana?"
"Fine, thanks... what side are you on?"
"Side?" Mistress repeats, confused.
"Wynne clearly had a problem for a while, Morrigan stepped up her comments... and Oghren was just Oghren. You didn't seem to react at all."
"Ah... I tried not to make it my business. You're both old enough to decide what you want, and after what you've both been through, I'm glad you found some happiness. Maker knows someone in the party should."
"There they both are... perched under the eaves, squawking to each other like jabbering crows. They will be joining us, yes?" Rumble calls out, looking as gloomy as always.
"Good morning to you, Shale. We're coming" Mistress waves. "We're just waiting for Wynne to finish."
"Mages. Always wasting time. Perhaps I should hurry it up."
… Well, you could take a run-up, and leap into the lake to send all the water flying out. Make sure to yell a battle-cry or something, too. That's supposing a fat rock like you can run, which is probably balderdash... heh, a boulder-dash is balderdash. …Why do I bother, you're not even listening.
Not that I don't like this garden, Mistress... but we pushed ourselves getting back to Red Cliff with the bag of ash. Why aren't we relaxing inside, on the comfy stuff, like everyone else? … Don't tell me, after all that, this Eamon codger didn't wake up?!
No answer. Typical.
I nudge her dangling hand, while she stares at some flowers. "Hmm?" she replies absently.
… Don't start going moody again, you only just told Ally the other day you were done with it. Wake up, I hear someone coming this way.
"Warden? They said you would be out here." Ah. Banty. I don't think she's talking right now, so get lost.
"Bann Teagan. Shouldn't you be with your brother?" Mistress briefly turns to ask.
"He's withdrawn to the chapel, and asked to be alone, after what we told him. I believe that Sister you travel with is waiting by the door, if he needs. You disappeared rather quick, once he began to speak."
"I thought it best, until he's ready... and my presence would have only set the Arlessa off. An argument isn't what he needs while recovering."
Banty frowns. "True... but I expect she'll be spitting venom about you if you don't speak soon."
"She won't be saying anything that isn't true, I think. And I'm still trying to find the best way to explain about Connor" Mistress finally shifts her focus from the garden bed. "Especially when he hasn't the luxury of time to process any stage of events."
"I..." Banty abandons his reply, and shakes his head. "You're correct, I fear."
She sighs. "Soon enough, I'll have to face all sorts of questions about people I couldn't save. Especially my ... well, there's been a lot of people I failed, hasn't there?. The first questions are bound to be the hardest, so I need to prepare for Eamon's. Maybe then I can face the Landsmeet with my head high."
"If Alistair's right about you, you've talked through more hostile situations" Banty offers.
"... Yeah. Hopefully that wasn't just luck." Mistress stops, and glances down at her stomach as a weird noise emits. "Have you... restored the kitchens?"
"I believe Alistair and your Dwarven associate have gone searching already" he smiles. "I'll show you the shortest route."
Braids is most likely hoping to loot the booze, but you don't need to know that until after feeding us.
Al swallows his mouthful as we walk in. "Ah... of course you're feeling the Warden hunger too. There's still plenty."
Shaking his head, Banty continues walking. "I'll check on things upstairs."
Grabbing a plate, Mistress tosses me a few pieces before sitting down. Bacon! Glorious bacon! Mistress, sure you don't want any... ah, she's gone for pudding or something. Makes sense, we haven't seen any of that stuff in months. We always divided it this way, probably to cheat on what Aldous used to yell. 'If you don't eat your meat, you can't have any pudding. How can you have any pudding, if you don't eat your meat?!' And I'd always think 'For the last time, I don't want pudding. Stop yelling.' And then his eyes usually went distant, like he was day-dreaming about taking his belt to the squirelings he was meant to be teaching. I tried telling him a few times, 'Aldous, leave them kids alone'... never worked. Maybe if I gave them weird masks to spook him...
"So... we've done it" Al smiles, pushing his plate away. "Time to hand over the weight."
"Almost" Mistress nods. "But we're close enough to taste it... or is it just the food I'm tasting?"
"Both!" he grins further. "We might have risked over-weighing the team with crazy, but you got us here."
"And you?"
"Well, nominally. I won't pretend we could have gotten far without listening to you. I told you about my pants, remember?"
Umm, what?
"Pants up a tree, everybody lost in the woods; I know." … What?! "You handled Haven well enough, though."
"Oh sure, it was great... until we found their blood-altar and the entire town tried to kill us. People dying is the step just before I lose my pants, don't forget."
"Then we turned up, and Oghren insulted the cult-leader into trying to kill us. I'm sure things would have been gone the same, if I came" Mistress notes. "And we all had to ditch our pants, in the Temple."
"... Well, that pants test only happened because I was leading earlier. You see, I was correct all along! Pants are the key to everything."
Would you both stop babbling about pants? The lack of sense is hurting my head.
Chirpy enters the room, silently counting the empty plates in front of Al. "What about pants?"
Oh great, the fashion-obsessed one is getting involved...
"Alistair thinks pants are the key to existence... I could have used that kind of enthusiasm, every time I fought my mother about having to wear dresses" Mistress answers.
"... Why wouldn't you want dresses?"
It was about the principle, probably. "It was a matter of principle, mostly. I wanted the choice... especially if the gathering was going to involve horse-riding."
That seems to confuse Chirpy further. "Yes... but you can change outfits to go riding."
"Mother, and Oriana, had an endless fascination with making me wear overly-elaborate gowns. I once needed a servant to untie four straps before I could bend enough to sit down for the meal... while Mother expected we carry out said act without being noticed by her guests" Mistress explains. "So I'm with you, Al. Pants."
He raises an imaginary goblet in a salute. "Pants!"
Where was all the carry-on, when I dug up those pants?! Brought them back to camp, and didn't even get a ear-rub!
"... Anyway, the Arl left the chapel not long ago. You may both want to-" Chirpy gestures around her mouth, "clean up, before he calls for you."
After intently watching her leave, Al turns back to Mistress. "She's right... I don't think your pudding-chin is in style" he smirks.
"Or your gravy beard" Mistress shoots back, motioning at her upper lip. She heads over to a small mirror on the wall, and looks herself over. "I've got helmet-hair, but it'll do. Max... the meeting will probably go a while, so go mess around outside. Just be back before it's dark." Taking the hint, I head outside and wander. Up ahead... I better go see where they think they're going in Red Cliff.
Hey, Rumble-Bum... did you get told to wait outside, too?
"... What is it, Pesky Hound?"
Fine, be that way. Just wondering what you're up to.
"Is it... trying to ask something? Curious... if so, then I suppose it might like to learn I'm investigating."
Investigating... right.
"The squishy noble who greeted us at the gate... Bent Egon, was it? Perhaps a Golem unbent him at some point... regardless, It told me that Wilhelm once lived here. Apparently the house is still abandoned, so I thought I might go smash the door down and see if my former owner left anything behind. I'm at a loss as to what else I should do, so perhaps some destruction will be constructive."
You do your burglary thing, Rumble... I'm gonna run around, and see what I can find to sniff.
Thanks to Melysande and SgtGinger for reviewing, plus everyone who's reading and such.
The bit about Shale bomb-diving/cannonballing Wynne in the lake went longer... then my meddling brain remembered that cannons aren't canon, except for the Qunari. So "Yeah, go yell cannonball and splash her... you'd probably look like one, sailing through the air" was sadly too out-of-setting, even for me. Shame, too... if I only ever inspire one bit of fan-art, I'd probably want it to be Shale cannonballing party members mid-swim; the mental image will be stuck in my head for a while.
