This is a short chapter, I know. I wanted to get Adela and Co. away from Orzammar and on the road. Writer's block (well, not really a block. It's more like my Muse has been dancing around many, many of my stories - even those not written yet - and won't let me focus) has made this almost a chore. I've been working on this and the other stories, bouncing around from one to another. And, I'm hoping that with publishing this chapter, that silly Muse of mine will finally calm down and just focus!
Anyway, thanks to everyone who read and alerted. And, especially to those who have reviewed!: avekay, Arsinoe de Blassenville, Biff McLaughlin, Nithu, CCBug, Shakespira.
The Halla Reborn
Chapter 54
Fresh air enveloped them as they exited the vast doorway from the underground city of the dwarves. Adela lifted her face to the sunlight, breathing in the air. Around her, her surface dwelling companions mimicked the same gesture, even the Sten lifting his lavender eyes to the sky. The weeks below ground, relying upon artificial lighting, the oppressive weight of many tons of stone and earth above them had changed the companions. Being once more under the sun, even one dimmed by the blighted sky, was welcome to the surface dwellers.
Their two dwarven companions, however, cringed slightly as the breeze ruffled through their hair, the sunshine bright and unforgiving to eyes too used to the muted light of mage lights and lava flows. Oghren was the first to recover, however, taking tentative steps to stand by the Warden Commander, his green eyes blinking rapidly as he forced himself to stare up into the gray-blue of the sky above.
"Are you going to be fine, Oghren?" Adela asked as she glanced over at the dwarven warrior, concern laced in her voice even as her heart rejoiced at being reunited with the sunshine, tinged with sadness as she took in the damage done by the Blight.
Snorting, the dwarven male nodded his head, "Yeah, just…gimme a moment," he narrowed his eyes, bringing a hand to shade them. "Just look at it, will ya? I feel like I'm gonna fall up into that great…whatchacallit? Sky."
Smiling, the elf turned her face once more to the sun, closing her brilliant blue eyes. "Trust me, my friend. You will not fall up into the sky."
Glancing over at her, Oghren noticed Natia slink up to the pair, her open face awash with fear, tinged a little green as though she would be ill. Straightening, the warrior turned to the elven rogue. "Yeah, yeah. I know that! But, actually being out here….seein' it…." he shrugged, "It's something, that's all."
Nodding, the elf patted Oghren upon one broad, strong shoulder. "It is indeed," she replied as she took a step ahead, anxious to put space between them and the Deep Roads, the terrible memories of what they found beneath the stone and earth.
Natia moved to stand next to her fellow dwarf, her eyes wide, her hands trembling slightly. The older dwarf looked over at the casteless girl. "C'mon, ya nug hunter!" he said as he clapped the smaller girl upon a shoulder, causing her to stumble forward slightly before she caught herself. "Let's show these surface dwellers what a real dwarf is made of!" And, with bravado he did not feel, he took a step forward, walking from the entryway of his home, and into the vast wilderness, following after the Warden Commander and her companions.
Taking a deep sigh, watching as the others followed, Natia glanced back once at the now closed doors that led back to the underground dwelling of her people. Casteless or not, Orzammar was all she had known. Shaking her head, wondering how she had let Rica and Queen Serena talk her into this mess, the dwarven rogue took a small step forward, ignoring the amused looks of the guards surrounding her.
Taking a deep breath, she turned, offered up a quirky grin, and said, "It all starts with baby steps, my friends," she bowed extravagantly, and then turned, took a deep breath, and all but bodily launched herself off the steps. Her strides eat the ground, and she found herself running, quickly catching up with the elf who led their group, skidding to a halt and resuming a more composed pace beside the elf.
Adela looked over, smiled over to the casteless girl. And suddenly Natia felt as though her sister and the Queen may have done her a good turn after all.
However, she was resolute that she wouldn't look back up into that vast, endless sky anytime soon. The vertigo she felt almost made her vomit.
DA:O
Flames licked hungrily at the body of the elven mage, black smoke rising into the blue sky before dissipating upon the wind. Wynne and Niall stood, huddled, arms around each other, as they watched the body of the young mage blacken and char, his handsome features melting with the intense heat of the mage fire.
The others stood, silent, in tribute to their brave friend, some wishing they had taken the time to get to know the perky young elf more, others glad for the friendship they had forged with the spunky young man. Adela stood, with Alistair's arm around her shoulders, watching as his body was reduced to ash, determined to watch as the last ember burned, determined to honor the young Warden properly.
They had set up their camp some miles from Orzammar's entrance, resolute to see the somber event to its full closure. The young elf would have preferred to have held Artemis' funeral rites in the Brecilian Forest. However, they had not the time, nor spare room in Bodahn's wagon, to carry the body weeks out of their way for such an event. So, halfway down the mountain they came to a wooded area, and built his pyre. Morrigan and Leliana had found a sprightly sapling, carefully digging its roots free of the hard earth, readying it for its new home upon Artemis Surana's grave.
Once the ashes were cooled, Adela, Alistair, Roland, and Niall gathered their fellow Warden's ashes, placing them in a jar Wynne had procured while in Orzammar. The bright golden finish of the urn was painted in bright colors - a forest scene obviously purchased from a surface merchant. Artemis' ashes safely sealed in the urn, they dug a small hole, wherein they placed his jar. Niall carefully placed the sapling within the hole and then carefully buried the jar and the sapling's roots. After patting the earth down, and watering the small tree, the four Wardens sat silently for a moment, their thoughts to the quirky young man that had lived far too short a life.
With a sigh, they rose, and rejoined their companions back at camp.
DA:O
Within a week the companions had managed to wend their way from the high reaches of the Frostback Mountains, the ground leveling out before them. Bodahn's wagon rumbled along behind them, the oxen pulling the load snorting and grumbling every now and again. Sandal sat happily beside his father, clapping his hands as Hafter pranced beside the wagon.
Midday brought a darkening of the sky ahead, gray clouds skimming across the horizon as the troupe made their way further down the slopes. Fergus, now sitting next to Bodahn as the dwarven merchant wended his way along the mountain merchant's highway, glanced to his left, watching as the others walked along, each in their own thoughts or conversation with whomever traipsed alongside them. A frown on his face, he gracefully leaped from the slow moving wagon, moving to catch up to where Adela, Alistair and Roland walked at the lead of the group.
His footsteps heard, Adela turned slightly in his direction, her pace slowing to allow the nobleman a chance to catch up. The two wardens beside her slowed their paces to match, while continuing with their own conversation.
A smile crossed his face as the Highever Teyrn caught up. "My thanks, Commander," he said formally with a bow, causing the young elf to roll her eyes and Alistair and Roland to chuckle behind her. The smile turned to a grin. "I had a question. It's rather silly, I am sure, but it's a question that has been nagging me for some time."
"Oh, this should be good," Alistair muttered with a grin. Adela jabbed back with an elbow, catching the much taller human just at the hip. Stumbling back in mock hurt, her husband let out a groan, a hand rising to his forehead as he pantomimed an injury.
With a roll of her eyes and a smirk upon her full lips, she turned her attention back to the grinning Teyrn. Roland, behind, merely stepped away from his friend as Alistair stumbled by.
Shaking his head at the warden's antics, fully aware that since their leave of Orzammar the spirits of his companions had brightened considerably, the noble turned his attention back to the elven warden, who stood, patiently, awaiting his question. With a movement of his hand, he indicated they should continue walking. With a nod, a glance back to her fellow wardens, Adela matched pace with the Teyrn's stride.
"Why do you not have use of horses?" Fergus asked, glancing back to the pair of strong oxen Bodahn used to pull his heavily laden wagon. "It would cut your travel time by at least half."
"Do you know much about horses, Fergus?" Adela asked as she brushed at a speck of dirt that found its way upon her armor.
"Some," the noble admitted, "I know how to sit a horse, and care for it short term." He shrugged almost apologetically, "We'd stable hands aplenty at Cousland Castle, and I'll admit to not paying all that much attention."
Smiling, the elf waved away his explanation. "We had considered horses early on in our travels, but quickly dismissed the notion."
"Why, if I may ask?"
She shrugged, glancing back as Roland and Alistair hurried to catch up with them. Zevran and Niall, trailing behind the elf and Teyrn, said something to both men, and the two wardens pulled up to engage in a conversation with the elf and mage.
Turning back, she explained. "Horses require a lot of care, a lot of attention. Even if they can cut our travel time down, they would be expensive to maintain. And, they are far more delicate then they look."
She glanced up, taking note of the simple surprise upon the Teyrn's face. She shrugged that away.
"We had not the coin to spare on the necessary supplies we would need to maintain such an animal. And," she frowned slightly, "we also discovered that the darkspawn have a particular….taste for horseflesh. Apparently, it's like a delicacy to them. We wardens attract enough attention as it is. With horses in our party…"
"It would draw them in like flies," Fergus nodded, frowning as he glanced back at Bodahn's oxen. "But they do not have the same appetite for oxen or other bovine?"
Chuckling, she shook her head. "Fereldan is not horse rich, as it were. We do, however, have a plethora of cow and ox." She waved a hand imperiously, smugly adding, "Certainly not a delicacy."
Laughing, Fergus nodded, glad the young Commander would take the time for such a pedestrian conversation. He glanced around, watching as the others continued to follow the diminutive woman.
Fergus continued to walk alongside the wardens, Zevran and Niall walking directly behind, interjecting into the conversation as they saw fit. Morrigan and Leliana walked behind the men, engaged in their own conversation, their lovely heads bent to each other. Wynne moved from the rear room of the wagon and had taken Fergus' seat beside Bodahn, knitting away at what Fergus presumed were Alistair's socks. As always, the Sten walked the rear, just behind the dwarven pair, who still marveled at the sky, the trees, the openness they now found themselves traversing. If he closed his eyes, Fergus could almost imagine he walked amongst the men and soldiers of Highever, Roland's soft voice adding to the illusion of home. But, when he opened his eyes, seeing the very strange mix of companions he found himself among, he could still not shake that feeling. It was slow in forming, not strong, but certainly there. In a group of such varied personalities, races and beliefs, a lone nobleman could well fit in.
He smiled, genuinely. Perhaps for the first time since learning of the fate of his family back at Highever. It faded, however, unable to maintain itself within the morass of hurt and profound sadness. A flicker of vengeance rose in his heart, and his thoughts strayed to Howe, seated within his family's home, and he barely suppressed a snarl.
Adela glanced over at him, having heard the small sound he had thought trapped deep in his throat. Concern flickered over her fine features, and he offered her a small smile, trying to assure he was he well. The girl was perceptive, had dealt with pain herself, and knew it when she saw it. He was healing. But, it would take time. Far more than he had, far more than he would see as they progressed through their quest to stop the Blight.
For now, he would be content with these companions he now traveled with. And, Maker willing, he would find his revenge for himself, for his family, friends, those who had served his family loyally.
Maker willing, he would be the one to put the knife to Rendon Howe's throat and rip it free.
Maker willing.
DA:O
Two days later found them in a valley, surrounded by ledges and cliffs of the foothills of the Frostback Mountains. The air was warm yet not unpleasant, despite the graying sky and swirling clouds overhead. They had bypassed the road that would lead them to Haven, determined to get to Redcliffe as quickly as possible. They had their treaties recognized, now they had to make certain that the Arl kept his end of the bargain.
Adela quelled an uneasy feeling as her thoughts went to the Arl. He had been very displeased with Alistair's proclamation that he would not challenge Anora for the throne. His displeasure only increased with their marriage. Alistair did not seem as bothered by the older man's attitude toward their relationship, pointedly telling his wife that they each had their duties, and that his lay steadfastedly with the wardens and by her side. Smiling up at him, she raised a small hand to pat his stubbly chin, giving him a wide smile as they continued their trek toward Redcliffe.
Pockets of bright sunshine managed to wend through the blight darkened clouds, offering some solace to the group as they continued their journey. As they crested a slight rise, the sounds of battle rose to their ears. Adela turned her head, her sharp ears pinpointing the direction the sounds came from. With a quick order, the elf quickened her pace, the warriors and rogues matching her strides, while the mages hurried to catch up.
As they rounded the bend, they saw the battlefield. The bodies of templars and darkspawn littered the blighted ground, and magic rippled through the air. Standing nearly back to back were the two survivors, facing off against at least a dozen darkspawn: a templar - his armor blackened with darkspawn blood, dented in many areas, his helmet missing to reveal a close cropped blond head and strong features - and a mage dressed in the customary circle robes. The templars great sword slashed out, catching a nearby hurlock in the neck, tossing it away. However, the warrior's movements were slow and heavy, and it was obvious by the time they reached the pair that he was sorely wounded.
The mage's staff jabbed out, catching a grinning genlock in the face, knocking it to the side. As the darkspawn stumbled back, a jet of flame erupted from the mage's weapon, setting the thing aflame, followed closely by a slur cast out by the mage at the dying darkspawn.
As the wardens neared, the templar slumped to the ground, and, with a curse, the mage turned his blond head briefly, taking note of his fallen comrade.
"Bugger," they heard him curse as he spun about, his staff sending forth another gout of flames.
Alistair and Roland rushed forward, attacking the nearby darkspawn with fury as Adela pulled forth an arrow enchanted with fire, and sent it flying at the darkspawn that threatened the stranger mage's back. With a roar, the creature spun about, picking its new target as it rushed from the mage toward the small elf. Calmly, Adela knocked another arrow, and let it fly into the genlock's grinning face.
More darkspawn poured from the surrounding forest, and the Wardens and their companions were now fully engaged in the battle.
Dark, malevolent magic crackled along the air, and Alistair turned, spotting the emissary easily. Snapping his sword out, he quickly beheaded his hurlock adversary and then paced out, racing toward the emissary. The darkspawn mage took note of the approaching human, a grin splitting it's death mask face, arms raising as it began it's spell. Mere yards away, Alistair suddenly stopped, raising his arms over his head in a quick, jerky fashion, white light blasting from his form and enveloping the hurlock spellcaster. As the former-templar-in-training's smite hit the darkspawn, it was sent flying backwards, smashing painfully to the hard ground. As it struggled to rise, the warden ran to it, his sword sweeping down, cleaving it from neck through its torso.
Now in the center of a crowd of darkspawn, Alistair straightened, giving out his great war cry, as he engaged those foes surrounding him.
Morrigan could feel Alistair's templar abilities as they rolled across the air, taking down the enemy spellcaster. Even she had to admit, his skill and training as a templar did come in handy. She scowled as several genlock raced toward her, and, with a malevolent grin, the dark-haired beauty gripped her staff, sending blasts of cold magic out at them. Giving her staff a twirl, she sprinted toward the approaching darkspawn, driving her staff down into the ground, using her momentum to hurtle herself into the air. With a snarl and flex, the beautiful witch's form changed from a svelte young woman into the bloated form of a great, corrupted spider. The genlock stumbled to a horrified halt, trying to reverse their own momentum. It availed them not as Morrigan in her spider form descended upon them, stabbing with sharp legs and sharper mandibles to tear and rend the darkspawn apart.
Magic crackled along the periphery, the clash of metal against metal resounded in the air; arrows whirled and whistled through the air, ending in thuds as targets were found. Soon, the battle ended, the dead - darkspawn and templar - lay scattered across the ground. With a look around to ensure her people were unharmed - and they were - Adela clutched her bow in a small hand and walked with purposeful steps to where the blond mage stood, staring around him in an almost daze. Soft hazel eyes, exhausted and wary, settled upon the approaching elf's determined form. From the corner of his eye, he watched as the tall warrior walked parallel to meet with the elf.
A slight smirk crossed his handsome face, and he held his hands up slightly. "I didn't do it," he quipped, the smirk twisting into a grin.
The elven woman paused, her brows twisting slightly with humor as those bluest of eyes quickly scanned the deceased surrounding the mage. A slight grin upon her face, she stopped and waved a hand before her, encompassing the scene. "Really? You didn't kill these darkspawn?"
The mage straightened, grinning. "Oh, well, yes. I killed most of these darkspawn. The templars," he turned slightly to kick at one of the Chantry warriors that lay, dead, not too far from him. "well, they didn't fare so well, did they? Not that," he turned back to Adela, "I'm terribly upset that they are dead, don't get me wrong. Biff there," he pointed to the templar that had died as they appeared on the scene. "made the funniest gurgling sound when he died."
Alistair sputtered beside her, but Adela could only grin and shake her head, once more taking in the deceased that surrounded the mage. "And you are?" she asked, bringing her attention back to the mage, who was watching her very closely.
"Ah, yes, my manners." He bowed slightly, "I am Anders, dear lady. Sadly, a wanted apostate." He paused, watching, gauging the elf's reaction to his words.
He was surprised when her smile widened even as the huge warrior beside her shifted uncomfortably. "Well met, Anders. I am Adela, Warden Commander of the Grey in Fereldan. And, I really do not care that you are an apostate."
"Ah, pretty and pragmatic, a striking combination," he purred, taking a bold step closer, causing the much smaller elven woman to blink up into his face.
Still smiling, Adela backed up slightly. "This," she placed a small hand upon the warrior's arm, "is Senior Warden Alistair, my second and my husband."
Alistair glared at the other man, and Anders took a cautious step back, then, taking another look at the larger man, a second. "Ah, well, yes. Pleased to meet you, I am certain. Grey Wardens, you say?" he asked, watching as the others moved to join the two Wardens. "Are all of you Wardens?"
"No," Alistair answered as Adela turned to watch the progress of the others, the Sten and Roland helping Bodahn maneuver his wagon around the field. "There are two others, the rest are our companions."
Turning back to the pair, Adela put in, "If you wish to travel with us, you are more than welcome. Another against the darkspawn, especially a mage, would be a great asset to our cause."
Anders was silent for a moment, watching the elf carefully, looking for any indication that she was offering him not acceptance or freedom, but imprisonment and perhaps betrayal. "Why would you ask me to come along with your merry band?" he finally asked, frowning slightly.
Alistair shifted slightly, obviously upset that the mage questioned the elven woman. But, Adela merely watched the mage, her smile relaxed, eyes soft as they explored the mage's face. Instead of directly answering his question, she asked, "How long have you been running?"
The question startled the young mage, and he almost ended upon scowling at the woman. Then, with a sigh, he ran his hand through his hair, which had come loose of its bindings during the battle and now hung limply to his shoulders. "Weeks. This group had caught up to me as I headed to Redcliffe. I was surprised. This wasn't the usual group sent out to locate and bring me back."
"Usual group?" Alistair quipped, frowning, his templar training coming to the fore. "I take it you've escaped the tower before?"
"Oh, certainly. This was my seventh escape. And, my seventh time being caught. Quite the record, you know."
"Gentlemen," both heads turned towards Adela. "How about we carry on this conversation later on? For now, we have disposal duty to see to."
With a frown and a sigh, Alistair nodded, heading off toward their companions to break them up into groups to dispose of the bodies.
"Disposal duty?" Anders asked quietly as he stepped to the elf's side, frowning down at her.
Nodding, she turned her brilliant blue eyes to him and then started walking away. Quickly matching her pace, the robed mage hurried alongside. "We need to burn the bodies - both the darkspawn and human." She motioned for another mage to step to her.
"Niall?" Anders asked as he watched the brown mousy mage approach.
A heavy sigh escaped Niall and Adela suppressed the urge to giggle. "Anders." Niall's tone was heavy with disapproval.
"Yep, me. I am, however, very surprised to you see, of all people, out of the tower. What? Couldn't find an uncharted island anywhere, so you decided to traipse about the countryside with the Grey Wardens?"
A knowing smirk crossed Niall's plain features. "Not traipse along with them. I am a Grey Warden."
As Anders' face registered his surprise, Adela patted Niall on the arm, leaving the pair of mages, certain that Niall would know where best to put Anders to work.
