Chapter 51: The, Ugh, Deep Roads

Alistair was right; the Proving was fun. Winning had been even better. Getting Harrowmont's men back in the ring was quite satisfying and made her feel better about agreeing to support the man over Bhelen. She sniggered softly to herself as she thought about that morning. She'd wanted to give the newly married couple as much time together as possible, but when they still didn't show their faces by late morning she and Zevran grabbed a pot of what Orzammar considered coffee and went up to their room.

Repeated knocking brought no results at all. Finally, Zevran stepped forward and picked the locks and they went in, calling out to Starr and Alistair. At some point, they had neatly put away their wedding clothes, but that was the only neat point in the room. In the middle of the floor was a pile of white lace, Zevran held it up and whistled. "Seeing the celestial Starr in this would certainly be enough to stop a man's heart while inspiring raging desire." They were making no effort to be quiet, yet neither of the lovebirds made a sound.

"Judging by the state of the room, maybe they killed each other," Elissa said half-jokingly.

"Ah, but what a way to go, sí? Wouldn't you rather die as a result of intense love-making with a handsome man such as myself?" Zevran countered, even as his eyes swept the room as if recreating the events of the past several hours. They approached the curtain hiding the bed and drew it aside. There were the people they sought, eyes closed, tangled in and partially covered by the sheets. Starr was halfway sprawled on top of Alistair, head pillowed on his chest and his one arm loosely holding her close while the other stretched out to the side as if to anchor them. Elissa took a moment to appreciate the beauty of the bodies in front of her. Alistair was very well-built indeed, clearly defined muscles everywhere she looked. Zevran cautioned her to silence, and eased onto the bed next to the warrior and put his head on Alistair's chest so he could look at Starr. He gently stroked her hair, "Good morning, bellissima."

She looked tired, beautiful and well used. She opened slumberous eyes but couldn't work up the energy to glare at him. "Go 'way, Zevran, it's not morning yet," and she snuggled even closer to Alistair and closed her eyes again. Zevran couldn't resist, he moved forward just enough to kiss her, pulling her lower lip gently into his mouth and sucking on it, his tongue teasing.

"What are you doing with my wife, Zev?" Alistair grumbled sleepily while pulling Starr away from the elf.

Elissa had to bite back a laugh, especially when Zevran answered. "Jealous, Alistair?" He remembered the first time he saw the warrior and thinking what a delightfully pouty mouth he had. Zevran considered himself a fair man, so he swooped onto that pouty mouth. No gentleness this time. Alistair's strangled oath was muffled, giving Zevran the opening he needed to slip his tongue inside. He had to be quick, but he was determined to be thorough. He rolled out of reach before the warrior was awake enough to untangle himself and react.

Elissa laughingly handed each of them a cup of coffee while Zevran busied himself getting their armor ready. Alistair and Starr arranged the sheets around themselves and drank greedily. One arm holding his wife to his side, Alistair spoke up, "Now that Zevran has had his fun," and he glared at the elf who smirked back cheekily, "how much time do we have before the Proving?"

That was four days ago. If only the Proving had settled things. But no, then they had to deal with an overactive crime group called the Carta and now they were on what was probably a fruitless quest to find a mad Paragon while saddled with her drunk of a husband. When she thought about the part they played in the demise of the Carta she had some bad moments; Jarvia may have been too greedy or ambitious, but the Carta provided a lot of casteless opportunities to live better that they wouldn't have had otherwise. In fact, the whole casteless system left a bad taste in her mouth. From what she could tell Dust Town was only marginally better than the, ugh, Deep Roads. She was starting to share Starr's loathing of spiders. Giant spiders were every-bloody-where they went. She would probably feel their sticky webs against her skin for years.

"Can you feel it? A low-level hum emanating from the walls themselves?" Alistair asked her. He was concerned; Elissa had been increasingly abrupt since they left Orzammar, which wasn't like her.

"Is that from the darkspawn? It's more noticeable in some places than others."

"The Stone remembers," Oghren interjected, "some hoity-toity nug-humpers say the Stone itself has absorbed some of the darkspawn essence, stronger where there've been lots of darkspawn recently or where they holed for a long period of time. They say if the darkspawn leave, their essence will become nothing more than a shadow of a memory. I guess you Wardens would be more sensitive to it."

Elissa sighed, "Another reason not to like caves and tunnels then. I remember when I was five Fergus let go of my hand when we were in one and I got lost. Luckily, it was abandoned; it was two days before they found me. On the plus side Fergus was my virtual slave for a week." She laughed just a little, "it ended when I asked him to be my pony for the umpteenth time. He went back to being my normal big brother and ignoring me or teasing me, but he was very careful never to lose me again."

Alistair took her aside, "Is that what's bothering you, the fact we're spending so much time in caves and tunnels? I thought it might be the darkspawn you were sensing. I can tell you it makes my skin itch."

"How do you stand it? How can you get any sleep?" Elissa really wanted to know before too many nights of poor sleep affected her judgment or abilities.

"Starr. She, I don't know, grounds me. Holding her at night acts as a buffer, I guess. Maybe you should try it."

Elissa smirked, she couldn't help it, "Do you really want me sleeping with your wife?" When Alistair's mouth dropped open, she laughed for the first time in days.

"That's not what I meant," Alistair sputtered, "I mean think about sleeping with Zevran or Leliana, and no I don't mean sex, jeez, get your mind out of the gutter, I mean sleep. See if they can act as a buffer for you. I suppose more experienced Wardens can block it out just like the nightmares."

"Alistair, can I ask you a personal question?"

He looked at her warily, "You can ask, but I don't promise to answer."

"Fair enough. Does being with Starr help with the nightmares? I know she makes you happy, I've never seen you happier or more confident. But the nightmares . . ." her voice trailed off in a shudder.

Alistair took a moment to think. "Yes and no. I have just as many, as far as I can tell. But being with her helps me calm down faster, sometimes she's awake and deliberately tries to soothe me, sometimes I think that even when I'm asleep she does that and makes the nightmare less intense. So, I've been able to, if not sleep more at least relax more. But I think that's because of our feelings for each other." Elissa nodded in understanding. "Elissa, I didn't think about this before because you're a complete rogue and could never learn any warrior abilities, but maybe you could try joining us in our morning meditations. They're really training exercises for your mind and might help you learn to focus your will and block out the buzzing you feel, at least make you more comfortable during the day. Maybe meditating last thing at night will also help." He shrugged diffidently, "it's probably a stupid idea but you never know."

"I, thanks Alistair. I'd like to give that a try. It certainly can't hurt. I'll tell you one thing, treaty or no, I'm not staying down here forever looking for some mad woman who got a bug up her ass. If we don't find her after a reasonable amount of time we'll have to skip the dwarves, I'm not going to risk losing all of Ferelden to the Blight because they can't figure out their own politics." She rubbed her forehead where a headache was forming. "Enough of that, let's get a move on before Morrigan turns Oghren into a frog for putting his hands on her. Again. Didn't he pinch Starr's bottom when he learned her nickname?"

"Don't remind me. I told him to keep his hands to himself and off my wife. Starr had already said something to him and he told me he would treat her with the utmost respect. I'm still watching him, though." Alistair looked for the dwarf and saw him pestering Morrigan and nowhere near Starr.

Elissa elbowed him, "How long do you think you're going to enjoy calling Starr 'your wife?'" Alistair grinned at her and they joined the others and moved forward.

They didn't see the darkspawn or any signs of Branka when they made their way to Caridin's Cross; instead, they saw a bunch of Bhelen's men who made the mistake of trying to stop them. Caridin's Cross was crawling with a variety pack of trouble. When it wasn't political enemies, it was darkspawn. When either of those didn't trouble them, there were giant spiders and deepstalkers. Actually, the deepstalkers were more of a nuisance, there were a lot of them and they were fast. Fen was faster. Fen and Griffon actually seemed to enjoy toying with the ugly little creatures. Ultimately, the Wardens did make progress. After several tunnels, caves and ruined corridors they found a way to Ortan Thaig, Branka's goal according to Oghren.

Ortan Thaig. Elissa stepped back so Oghren could take a moment and experience the wonder of finding the Paragon's original home, a place lost to the darkspawn for centuries. "Ortan Thaig," Oghren said softly in a tone of reverence, "Caridin's home before he became a Paragon. These marks on the walls, Branka's been here. I hope we find her here; I don't want to have to go to Bownammar. Bownammar was home to the Legion of the Dead, but now it's home for the darkspawn. Thousands of 'em. But maybe we'll get lucky."

"Don't count on it," Alistair muttered under his breath. Forward they went. At another time, under different circumstances they might have enjoyed exploring the old thaig. Battling ghosts and golems took care of that. It was difficult to enjoy the old craftsmanship when some blasted ghost was trying to cut off your head. There were a great many more spiders as well, even bigger ones. Fen and Starr were furiously slashing through the eight-legged monsters. They met a crazed dwarf, Ruck, who was mostly a ghoul. He was hard to talk to but they did find out from him the darkspawn had left the area and that the crawlers had taken away a bunch of papers to their giant nest.

Starr wandered for a moment, kicking rocks, Fen at her side. She squatted next to him and put her arms around his neck, "Sorry Fen, it looks like we have to go right into a nest of giant spiders." He whimpered a little then huffed. She scratched behind his ears, "Yeah." Their mood did not improve when they had to fight more ghosts and golems first. Starr frowned when they saw spiders, or crawlers, moving away from them instead of attacking them. They weren't running away, they were moving away which implied some sort of purpose. "Something's up. Be careful, these creatures aren't acting like typical spiders." She thought a moment, "They're acting a bit like the spiders in the forest. I don't like this."

Alistair rubbed the back of her neck. "At least there isn't a lot of soft ground, debris, or a bunch of trees to use for ambushing us. I'm not going to let some spider take you now that we're finally married." Starr grinned and quickly kissed him on the cheek and moved on.

"Fresh *burp* married, huh? Still got that new shine." Oghren swaggered over to Alistair. "How long you been strapped together?" The stench of stale booze surrounded him like flies swarming over fresh dung.

"Um, not long. Four days, seventeen hours and thirty-three minutes, if you want to be exact." Alistair was glad he was tall enough not to be in the thick of the smell. "What about you and Branka?" Alistair figured talking to Oghren was one way to keep him from bothering Starr or Morrigan. The things he did for love. Maybe if they just threw the dwarf at the Archdemon it would keel over from the smell.

Oghren appeared to be thinking about it. After another long burp, he answered, "About three years before she left for the sodding Deep Roads. She was a brilliant girl but she was a bit sky-touched, if you know what I mean." Oghren shook his head in disgust and wandered off to get a look at Morrigan's boobs again. His mood lifted after they killed all the spiders plus some emissaries and they found Branka's journal. She mentioned him; his spirits weren't even dampened by the fact they would have to go to the Dead Trenches after all.