Chapter 52: Finding Branka
"Branka was beyond sky-touched" Oghren thought, sitting by himself. "Not only does she take up with that water-tart Hespith, she sacrificed our entire house in her search for some old relic. Even if it did possess some Stone-blessed power, there's no excuse for what she did. Letting the darkspawn create broodmothers?!" Oghren didn't know whether to be sad or outraged, so he drank. He drank a lot.
The Wardens and their companions were all shaken by what they found. Seeing the Archdemon and the darkspawn army was sobering. Discovering Branka's treachery was bad and some felt pity for Oghren, but the knowledge that women were converted by some tortuous process into breeding machines by the darkspawn was vile and sickening. The women of the party were all very quiet during a break after defeating the broodmother, formerly known as Laryn. Nobody really felt like eating, but they did so anyway.
Starr wondered if somewhere deep inside a part of Laryn still existed in the Broodmother and was aware of what she, it, was doing. She shuddered at the idea. Alistair sat down next to her and hugged her close to him. The thought of that happening to his Starr shook him. He wondered what else Duncan never got around to telling him. Nuzzling her hair, he asked her if she was alright. "I don't want to ever end up like that, Stair. What if Laryn is still inside and aware of the horrible things she's doing? Aware of how she's being used?" She leaned against him for comfort.
"No, her mind would have been gone long before then. Look at Hespith, she doesn't have much left of herself, it's sheer willpower that has kept her from succumbing so far. Once that's gone, there won't be anything of Hespith left. Maybe that's a blessing in a way. I won't let that happen to you, Starr, I promise." He could feel her relax against him and wished desperately they were back at Tapster's and they could forget the world in each other's arms. He felt cold inside at the thought of Starr in the hands of the darkspawn.
Elissa joined them. "Did you know about this Alistair?" she demanded. When Alistair shook his head, Elissa scowled. "I wonder what else we don't know, seems to me the Wardens were a bit too secretive. We'll have to change that, but not today. Let's get going. Maybe we'll find bloody Branka's body for Harrowmont. Maker, I'll be glad to get out of here," she grumbled. Luckily, Oghren was too far away to hear her. She stomped over to Oghren. When she saw the misery on his face, her whole attitude gentled. "Oghren," she said quietly, "you know Branka best. Any ideas what we might expect?"
Oghren sighed gustily, to her credit Elissa did not take a step back, "Warden, I never thought she'd sacrifice our entire house, I never knew she had interests in other women. It may be done on the surface, but it's not exactly a dwarven thing. If she'd talked to me, maybe we could have . . . anyway, that's not what you want to know. She may be cracked as a broken mirror but she's still got a brilliant mind. She'll take precautions against people coming after her. Can't help wondering if the reason nobody found her before now is because anybody who got close got dead. Stupid nug-licker. Becoming Paragon was the worst thing to happen to her. Let's just go and get this over with, Warden." Swaying, Oghren got to his feet and started walking.
They made their way through some ingenious traps and found the Anvil of the Void. And not only the Anvil. Paragon Caridin was alive. Well, alive-ish. Turned into a golem when he refused to destroy more souls. Branka was so obsessed that she couldn't even hear what Caridin was saying, only that he wanted to destroy the Anvil. In her way, she was as lost to the Stone as Laryn. A woman who would willingly sacrifice her house to the darkspawn and Caridin's traps wasn't going to be concerned about the agony and destruction of those used to make golems. Once Branka was defeated, Caridin made a crown for Elissa to give to whomever then sought what must have been a welcome oblivion in the lava flowing in the ravine below.
It was a somber group that made its way back to Orzammar. They had a crown for the new king, information for the Shaper and information about Shale. And news of two dead Paragons. In the Assembly, they had to quell a rebellion for Bhelen was prepared in case the verdict went against him. Elissa was weary beyond mere tiredness. Outside of Tapster's she stopped them, "I don't want to stay here any longer than we have to. We have our troops and I want to see sunlight again. Unless anybody has an objection, I suggest we clean up, pack up, eat, and go. We'll replenish our supplies on the way out." Everybody agreed. Oghren held her back for a minute while the rest of them went inside to their rooms.
In their room, Starr and Alistair didn't say anything. More than they wanted each other at that moment they wanted to scrape off the filth of the last few days. Even Fen wanted a bath. Starr took care of him first, "Come on Fen, let's enjoy this part of dwarven engineering one more time." She took off her armor, got some plain soap and a stiff brush and quietly got to work on her friend. Alistair cleaned armor while she cleaned wolf. Clean and brushed, Fen went to his place in the sitting area near the fire and relaxed for the first time in days.
Starr got her own scented soap and dropped her under clothes. Alistair felt a slow and welcome heat building inside him as he watched her and heard her mutter, "I don't care if it does delay us, I am washing my hair." His armor was done and he was halfway finished with her armor.
When she sluiced the water over her head, and it ran down her hair and body he quickly finished. Quietly taking off his own under things he joined her. "May I?" he asked quietly but didn't wait for an answer as he took the cloth and the soap from her. Quietly, gently, reverently he soaped her neck, her shoulders, her breasts. Repeatedly he soaped, rinsed and soothed from head to toe. Her eyes eased from brown to soft pewter and clear grey then a calm blue as the filth and tension of the last few days was washed away. Reverently and gratefully, she returned the favor, the lines on his brow smoothing away with her touch. He moaned when she dug her fingers into his hair and massaged his scalp. She sighed in quiet ecstasy when he wet and lathered her hair. His hands and fingers strong but gentle as he washed the silver strands until they were like silk again. Alistair rinsed the last of the soap from both of them then picked her up and carried her to the bed. Grabbing towels and a brush, he settled onto the mattress. When she would have embraced him, he stopped her. "Not yet, I just want to hold you, Starr, I need to just hold you."
"Stair," she sighed and went into his arms, warm inside and out. She wrapped herself around his waist and laid her head on his shoulder where she could nuzzle. Her hands lightly stroked his back but otherwise she was still. He breathed in deeply of her scent and carefully rubbed her hair as dry as possible before picking up the brush. Long, slow strokes were a gentle caress. His teeth oh so lightly nibbling her ear. Patiently he continued, soaking up her nearness, love a gentle blanket over the two of them. He could feel her nipples tightening against his chest, could feel her dampness against his growing erection but still he brushed her hair. When he finally put the brush down, she shifted until she could ease herself on his manhood, lowering herself until she was filled with him. His hands found her hips and held her close. Her lips sought his and gently brushed over them. Slowly they rocked together in a gentle rhythm, a quiet passion, a time for tenderness, comfort, and renewal.
