Gudrun was sitting next to the fireplace, toying with the flask of dark glass Avernus had gifted her before parting. The fire was still young and its heartiness hadn't been able to cleanse the stale smell of decay that permeated the whole castle, but with the tear closed and the corpses dealt with, the old kitchen at least provided refuge against the elements and a good place to rest and recover.
Alistair sat down next to her, and patted her shoulder, "You did the right thing."
"You think so? I really believe he was onto something here..."
"Maybe, but he had crossed too many lines for it."
She looked at him with an expression full of remorse, a look he had never seen on her before; a crack on the stony facade she put out to the world, "What's to say he won't keep doing that in the outside world... we could've kept an eye on him at least..." she bit her lip, "I... I was too rash."
He was surprised by the admission. Whether he disagreed with her or not, Alistair had always thought Gudrun was the type to stand by her decisions. This hesitation seemed so alien, so out of character that it felt as if he was talking to someone else, and that made him think, maybe Gudrun was not the hero of iron and steel he had made her to be, at least not all the time. He still considered her his leader and, even if he didn't know a lot about leading other people himself, he'd learned enough to know that once a decision had been reached, there was no use in dwelling in the what-could-have-beens.
"You made a choice, we supported you. Avernus was a little too much for us, I think. Besides, he did say you could find him again if you ever needed him."
"That's true..."
"What's done it's done. The important thing is that we found more about the order, more about the Blight, we took back Soldier's Peak from the demons and..."
"...and we got this," she completed, raising the flask to the light.
"What's it do? Did he say?"
"Only that it could make us stronger, faster... more focused."
"Better save it for the hard times, then."
"They will come."
They stayed silent for a while, looking into the fire. Eventually, the heat warmed up their faces and a little bit their bones, and they both took off the chain mail and studded vests. The odor was not very pleasant but at least it was natural.
"I... I am going to take off my boots, Gudrun," he said, hesitant.
"Fine...?"
"I am warning you, I've been told my feet smell worse than a rotting carcass."
"Ha!"
He looked up at her smiling face, startled and pleased. "You are laughing now but wait for it..." He took off one boot, and shoved it in front of Gudrun's face.
"By the Paragons! Maybe these really are the hard times!"
"What did I tell you, huh?"
A voice boomed behind them, "It might not be pleasant, but it's not worth the fuss."
Sten, braids loose, was looking down at them with what some would call a frown, and others a smirk. He crouched, putting his hands next to the fire, and Alistair moved over to make space for him.
"Ah yes, the exotic freezing Ferelden nights... I suppose you don't have this blasted cold in Par Vollen."
"Nothing here is like in Par Vollen," the qunari sentenced. Alistari made a face but didn't take it to heart.
"We were lucky to get the fire going..."
"That's what the serabaas are for, no?"
"The... what?"
"Bas serabaas... mages. Those who can touch the Fade."
They nodded in acknowledgement. Gudrun rummaged in her pack and took out a water skin which she offered to the other two and they drank in silence. Alistair grew a little weary of their silence, even if their expressions were peaceful, and thought it was better to leave the taciturn creatures to their thoughts.
When he walked away, Gudrun cleared her throat and spoke softly, "Sten, I've been meaning to ask..."
"Advice on the bas serabaas?"
She rolled her eyes but didn't reply to that, she was almost sure it was Sten's way to tease her.
"What do you want to do about... what you discovered about your unit? When we stopped in the shore of Lake Calenhad and talked to the ferryman about the attack..."
"Ask what you need to ask, warden."
"What are you going to do with that information? That the looters were in Denerim... are you going to take your revenge?"
He made a sound with the back of his throat that one could almost consider a laugh, and looked down at Gudrun. His purple eyes were fixed on hers, there was a twinkle in them.
"Is that what you think of me?"
"I do not judge. Ancestors know I have my own debts to pay."
"No warden, I am not looking for revenge. i am looking for... something else. Something they took from me."
"You... didn't say."
"I should've."
"What is it?"
"My sword. My hand. My soul."
Gudrun looked at him in a questioning manner, but didn't dare put a word between his thoughts.
"When I fell I... must've dropped my sword. When I awoke without her, I... lost myself. The family I murdered were at no fault, but I tore the place looking for it."
"For the sword?"
"For my soul. When a member of the Beresaad gets his sword, it becomes a part of them. The Asala. Without it I'm no one. A Sten without his Asala is as useless as an arrow without a point. I lost myself... because I was already lost."
"Why didn't you say something sooner?"
He looked at her with a stony expression, but Gudrun had seen faces like that before enough times to know there was some guilt behind it, "My actions then didn't deserve to be justified. What I did has no absolution. I can only move forward now, but for that, I need my Asala."
She nodded, there was something familiar in that story, in a way, deeply dwarven in character, or so she thought. He seemed to fear he would be pitied, and by the Stone did she understand.
"We'll go to Denerim then, if the looters are there, we'll look for them and get her back."
Sten didn't reply, but Gudrun felt him sigh deeply and his posture relaxed. He sat cross legged and she lied down on her back. Silence filled the space between them again, but it was lighter.
"... and so when so I said to him; the problem is not the demons Arrivi, the problem was your taxes. And then I killed him."
Levi Dryden was staring at Zevran in disbelief while the elf narrated one of his many adventures as a blade for hire, one that was no doubt meant to encourage the man, not terrify him. Going by his face, Alistair gathered he hadn't had much success; Dryden still looked like he needed a bucket of cold water in the face and a week long nap. Sitting in front of them, Iola and Miach did seem to be having a good giggle though, specially Miach.
"You know, flat ear? For a carrion bird you are pretty fun," he said, stretching, still with a smile on his lips.
Zevran gave him a half smile, choosing to let the words flat-ear pass, "I hear crows are fun in general, playing pranks and such."
"Magpies maybe..." Miach replied, yawning. He lied down and rested his head on Iola's lap, which Alistair still found a little shocking, although he did his best to ignore this and the small twisting in the gut that came with it. She didn't seem to mind it.
"I once saw a crow jump all the way in the Barrack's kitchen with a rotten turnip in the beak, drop the thing on top of the cook's head and fly away with two slices of our best white bread," he said.
Iola beamed at him, "You're lying."
"I might have exaggerated the truth a little, fine." He admitted, sitting down with them and taking part in the rations they were sharing, " There was no turnip."
Zevran smiled mischievously, "There is always a turnip, amico." he frowned, "Uh, that doesn't translate as well as I thought."
"You mean, there is always a parsnip?" Iola ventured, wiggling her eyebrows. Zevran nodded approvingly.
"Or a zucchini, if you will."
"What is a zucchini?"
"Well, it's this long, green vegetable. Roundish, some are big as small dogs, others are just as small as..."
"Maker, what are we even talking about anymore?"
"Birds." Miach sentenced.
Iola chuckled at that, and Zevran shook his head, "Anything but the obvious, warden."
Alistair sighed, "You don't have to call me that all the time, you know? I figured if you're gonna end up stabbing us in the back it won't matter much."
"On the contrary, I hear it hurts more."
"Great. Thanks for worrying, I guess?"
Alistair felt Iola's hand on his shoulder and when he turned to her he saw there was a bit of concern in her eyes, "He loves teasing us, but I have to admin master Arainai has a lot of anecdotes in his repertoire to get the mind off of things. How are you... doing?"
He pondered on his answer a little; it was true that the visions had hurt him a little, to finally learn why the Grey Wardens had been cast out, to know what the truth was and have it be so terrible and at the same time so... predictable, he would admit to himself it was disappointing. He didn't want to talk about it though, didn't want them to think he couldn't deal with that sort of revelation.
"Well... I am pretty tired of demons, for one. Would love an enemy from this side of the Veil for once. Not looking forward to cleaning the castle either..."
That seemed to cheer up Dryden, "I believe I can help with that. I have agreed with warden Gudrun to go to Denerim to hire labor to clear the place. There are a few valuables that can help hire a couple of trusted, but most importantly, I found what I really needed."
"Huh?"
"My family used to have the deeds for a bit of land in the arling of Denerim. They were in Sophia's hands, for safekeeping, but after what happened here no one else dared to come claim them... and no one who did came back so here they stayed. I found them in the study."
"That's fortunate."
"And now we got a castle Loghain doesn't know how to reach," Miach pointed out, yawning again. Iola smoothed back some stray hairs on his forehead and started messing with his hair. It was long, dark, and shiny, and frankly, Alistair envied it a little.
"Do you want me to braid your hair again? It's very messy."
"Hmmm... nah. I'll let it loose, will you do it tomorrow, though?"
She nodded happily and Miach straightened and proceeded to untie his mane, which sprawled all across his back. It made him look a little older.
Zevran raised his eyebrows in appreciation, "Bellisimo..." he whispered.
"I wouldn't mind going to Denerim," Iola said, "I heard some senior enchanters talking about it, the bookshops and the apothecaries..."
"The food market..."
"...the bars and the brothels.."
"What's a brothel?"
They all stared at Miach, between perplexed and amused.
"It's a... uh..."
"I suspect, Master Mahariel, that it will be better to show you."
"What why?"
"You see, it's a place where people engage in the exchange of affection..."
"Oh, so it's one of those... city things, huh? You know what? I'm going to sleep. Wake me up when Morrigan's back."
Suddenly, Iola jumped in her seat,"Oh, Morrigan!" She hurriedly picked up her pack, wished them good night and disappeared through the door into the courtyard where witch was keeping an eye out for trouble.
The place seemed completely empty, save for a solitary raven perched atop one of the lower towers. Iola looked around, a little disoriented, wondering where Morrigan might've gone, when she was supposed to be watching out for more corpses.
"Morrigan!" She called. The raven flew away and out of view, perhaps startled by her voice, "Morrigan!"
A few seconds later, the dark figure of the daughter of Flemeth appeared from behind what used to be the stables, wrapped in her purple cloak.
"There might be someone in Val Royeaux who hasn't heard you yet, why not give it another try?"
Iola gave her a small apologetic smile, and burrowed herself in her own grey cloak, "Sorry to bother you, Morrigan. I... wanted to talk to you about something."
"Well? What is it?"
"Everything's been so hectic, I really just forgot to mention it when we came back from Kinloch Hold but I've been meaning to tell you..."
"Iola, we're gonna grow roots."
She bit her lip, realizing then that she was actually nervous. Morrigan talked about her life in the swamp with such detachment it seemed forward to bring her mother up like that, but, Iola told herself, she hadn't stolen from Irving to chicken out now. If nothing else, she was sure Morrigan would be able to use whatever contents there were in the book. She reached into her pack, "I found this in the Mages tower, when we were there... I, uh... took it. Thought you might be the best person to have it."
The black tome was heavy, in fact, it felt a little heavier than it should be for its size. She presented it to Morrigan, and in turn the woman took it delicately in her hands. It took her a moment to read the words in the cover, but when she did, her face paled, and she let out a low gasp.
"Asha'bellanar..." She looked up at Iola, and back down at the book, "I... I've been looking for this... for so long. Where... where did you find it?"
"Uhh... an office, in Kinloch. I don't understand what it says, to be honest I kinda forgot about it..."
"You... forgot. And yet... here it is, with me." Her words were calm, but her voice sounded broken with emotion, just a bit, just enough for the attentive ear to pick up.
She opened the tome and began turning the pages slowly, her eyes going wide, then narrowing, darting across the text. Iola risked a peek over the cover and the look Morrigan gave her was not nearly as murderous as it would've been a day before.
"What is it? A spell book?"
Morrigan closed the book carefully, "T'would appear so. I suspected it would be. Flemeth always guarded her secrets like an old dragon, I was never able to convince her to teach me some of the more advanced abilities she possesses.
Iola was tempted to ask why but for what little information Morrigan had shred with them about her life in the Wilds, she'd gathered her relationship with her mother was not the best there was.
"This will help me as much as it will help all of us."
"If you learn how to turn into a giant bird... will you teach me?"
"Ha! Did you believe that story?"
Iola shrugged, "Beats all my other theories."
Morrigan chuckled, but didn't tease her any further. Instead, she lift up her head and, clutching the tome against her chest, said; "Thank you, Iola. I... better go, I will need all the time I can get to study this..." and she walked past her just putting a hand on her shoulder for a moment.
Iola was left startled for a second; Morrigan had never touched her like that, with intention, with... camaraderie. She turned to say something, but thought better of it, it was probably better not to press her.
Instead, she asked Morrigan to send Leliana down to the courtyard so they could take a watch together.
When Leliana joined her, Iola requested more stories about Orlais, to which Leliana obliged, telling her all about the balls in the noble houses, the tailoring, the parties, offering what little she knew about the White Spire and the Court Magicians. She let slip a couple of sexual escapades and was pleased to see Iola reacted to them with humour.
On the inside, Gudrun and Wynne rolled their eyes at Zevran's own sexual escapades, while Sten did his best to ignore them all and read his prayers in a corner. Miach, Alistair and Dryden had fallen asleep already, and Alistair snored softly and thrashed around in dreams.
Eventually, all but Sten and Morrigan succumbed to sleep, and after a while, the qunari headed out to relieve Iola and Leliana of their watch duty.
They stumbled in the dark a little; the fire burned now very low and although the room had warmed up, it was now very dimly lit. Leliana wished her a good rest and went to curl up next to the fire beside Zevran and Wynne.
Iola trudged a little more in between the bedrolls and packs until she found her own stuff and dragged her blankets to her favorite spot between Miach and Alistair. The elf lay on his back, arms sprawled across the floor, and she moved them away a little to fit. He didn't react at all, for once, the dreams weren't troubling him.
She took off her cloak, boots and heavy tunic, and lied down on her stomach, exhausted. She would've fallen asleep if it wasn't for the sudden whisper that called her from the right.
"Iola."
She gasped, "Fuck, Alistair. You scared me."
"Sorry."
She turned to him, pulling the blanket over herself. She could barely see his face, but even in that dimness he looked troubled.
"It's ok... can't sleep?"
"I was sleeping..."
"Oh no, did I wake you up?"
He smiled weakly, "No no. I had one of those fun warden dreams but, that's not what I... I'm sorry Iola, I should let you sleep."
She clicked her tongue and moved a little closer, "It's nothing , huh?"
"W-what..."
"Come ooon... you can tell me. Embarrassing dream?... bad one?"
"No, no. I am fine, but I... I was just thinking about... all these demons got me thinking about the Tower, your home I mean."
"Oh."
"You didn't... tell anyone about my dream, right?"
"No... besides, if Morrigan knew you would've already heard about it."
"Maker you're right..." The room was dark but she could picture his face of distress, and a chuckle escaped her.
"She is real, you know?" he whispered, "Goldanna."
"I figured, but I didn't want to pry."
"She's my mother's first daughter. That is, not from the king."
"When was the last time you saw her?"
"I..." he sighed, "Never, actually. I have never met her. I only know of her. But I've always wanted to... you know. I imagine it'd be nice to have someone like..." He seemed to struggle with his words, and Iola was overcome by the sudden need to touch him, a comforting gesture, something to let him know she was there for him. She raised her hand and then... let it fall again.
Alistair inhaled sharply and looked down at the hand, but it was too dark for her to see.
"I learned that she lives in Denerim," he continued, "now that we're going there I thought it might be a good chance to meet her but... I don't know, maybe it's not a good idea. Is it a stupid idea?"
"I don't think so... if it was me, I'd like to meet her. The real her, not the demon."
Alistair laughed weakly.
"Shh... you'll wake them up."
"Sorry."
They stayed silent for a moment. Iola was sleepy but she didn't want to stop talking to him, even though she wasn't sure of what to say, even if Denerim was still too far away to matter much.
"Will you do it, then? You'll go see her?"
"Yes... if there's time."
"There will be," this time she did reach out, and patted his arm, "we'll make time."
Gudrun and Alistair took the watch after Sten, and finally, when they came back, they woke up Miach to do the final round.
He looked around for Morrigan but didn't see her there in the room with them. That was normal enough, but he wondered if she would be outside, circling the heavens as a bird, or skulking around the trees as a wolf. He felt a little abandoned, to be fair, he liked her silent company, and specially enjoyed being privy to one of her many secrets.
The sky was green in the horizon, and it had stopped snowing for the night. Morning was coming, slowly but surely, the air was crisp and birds had started to return. He could see a few crows hanging out in the towers and what seemed to be a solitary vulture circling something not far from then.
None of them was Morrigan; she was sitting on a bench next to the door, almost completely covered by her cloak. The morning wind made the feathers in her head shiver. She looked up at him, and her eyes widened just a little.
"You look well."
He raised an eyebrow at that, but smiled, "You didn't wake me up. Have you not slept at all?"
"An hour or two, enough."
He sat, fiddling a little with his hair, "Something on your mind?"
Morrigan sighed, "My mother."
Miach didn't dare say anything, worried he would deter her from explaining. After a while, a raven cawed in the distance, and Morrigan shook her head, as if she wanted to shake herself awake.
"Tell me, Miach. Do you miss the wilds?"
"I do," he smiled, "You know I do. When we are away from the forest, on the road, I miss the trees and the streams. But as long as we're in the open... I guess I'm alright. Do you?"
She seemed to think about it for a moment, "'Tis strange, I have always wanted to get out of the Korcari, if only out curiosity. For all its endless swamps and immense forests I always seemed to find it a little... small."
"Must've been, living alone."
"Yes, just my mother and me. She is not always the best company. Even so, I do miss the silence. Some of our companions are worse than a box of crickets."
He chuckled, "Ir ama."
"Sometimes... you also know when to stop. Some of them don't."
"You're too kind in your judgement."
"Me? No one has ever called me kind in my life, and I won't have you start now!"
"Ui enfena-ma! I won't tell anyone." He laughed, a little too loudly perhaps, and a couple of birds flew away.
Morrigan rolled her eyes at him but after a wile she even asked him about his family. Miach went on about the clan and its people, trading questions with her, as the dawn brightened and the Sun regained controlled of the skies.
So... yeah. 5 years, huh?
ANYWAY. Thank you to the latest reviewers for your comments.
Here's some translations:
Asala: soul
bas serabaas: dangerous thing, a mage
Bellisimo: bautiful
amico: friend
Ir ama: (elvhen + sindarin) me too, me aswell
Ui enfena-ma: (elvhen + sindarin) don't worry, don't fear
Form last chapter-
ogron shem: (sindarin+elvhen) evil human, dammed human
Devi averme sempre a vista?: Must you always have me on your sights?