AN: Hey, I'm back with another chapter. This summer has kind of been the worst one in my life (disregarding quarantine) I lost a close relative and a childhood pet within a single month, so I haven't had much time to be around, but thankfully some time's passed since then and I went on vacation and started writing again. So! here's a chapter I meant to upload ages ago, and I'll post the next one soon (as long as it doesn't take me forever to edit it). Hope you're all talking care, and staying healthy 3

Chapter 29 - Catching up with the Cailans

Sneaking into Teagan's manor-house was actually more troublesome than it should have been. Cinna had the awkward obligation of telling the king's uncle just what exactly kept Cailan from getting off the table on his own, and it got more uncomfortable as the conversation continued.

"How did you get up there in the first place?" the Bann asked, holding out for some sort of miracle.

"I... the table was right there, so I just..." Cailan made a lifting motion with his arms, hands still somehow caked with the labor of Cinna's hard work. "...Climbed."

"It's good that you can hold your own weight," Carver nodded, earning a sullen look from the king.

"I'm immobile, I'm not a corpse," he huffed indignantly.

"And thank the Maker for that," Teagan said, though he looked a bit pained to see his nephew in such a state. "Why don't we take this conversation someplace more... secure?"

And that was how they ended up smuggling Cailan and Duncan into the manor house under the cover of night. Teagan had a horse and they borrowed another, so they loaded both men up on one while the Bann rode beside them while his men tried to look inconspicuous. Before they had abandoned the bakery, however, Cinna cleaned up her mess and left a nice little note for the owners, informing them that they had gotten the job done (mostly), and that it was probably time to break out the rat poison (if her baking hadn't done the trick).

Calling the Bann's manor-house a house was a joke. The place was a castle in its own right, with high vaulted ceilings and hanging candle chandeliers. The whole place smelled like woodsmoke and cedar; real rustic, like an outback steakhouse or someone's dream man-cave on steroids. Maybe Teagan was overcompensating, or maybe that was just how Fereldens decorated. Either way, it was impressive.

"This place is faaaancy," Cinna gasped, staring up at the ceiling. She wondered what it looked like in the morning, when the sun was at the right angle to hit the stained glass.

"Is it? Compared to Redcliffe castle I always considered it rather homely," Teagan said, giving her the side-eye as Cailan was carried over to a nearby chair. The moment he sat down he looked so comfortable- what did the bann stuff his chairs with, angel feathers? Cinna was jealous. "Are you… alright?"

"She's a friend, Teagan" said Cailan, catching his uncle's cautious stare. He rolled his eyes as cinna, marvelling at the bear carvings on each individual chair, and gestured to Teagan with one hand as a servant came and handed him a glass. "And I'm almost certain she hatched underneath an infernal rock someplace, but for the life of me, I haven't figured out where yet."

Teagan tried to cover up a surprised laugh with a cough. "Wh-what makes you say that?"

"Personal experience," Cailan sighed. He took a sip of bubbly water and closed his eyes. "Oh I have missed this."

"Don't get too comfortable," Duncan reminded, keeping his hands on his sword hilt. "We may not be able to stay here long."

"Loghain is still speaking with Arl eamon," Teagan said, looking at their scattered group as they hung about his hall. "He's taken up residence in the castle, but I'm not sure for how long. I was supposed to join them for dinner, actually, before I heard a very peculiar report..."

"I'm sure they'll keep your lobster dinner warm and waiting when you arrive." Cinna turned and stared up at a giant fancy tapistry, depicting the Guerrin line and some dude riding a fancy-ass horse with a sword in the air. It was obviously propaganda and super fake, because that shit was dangerous. "You don't happen to have a bathtub somewhere... in this fancy, elaborate castle-house... do you...?"

"Yes. Why? You have been on the road for so long-has there been no…?" Tegan stared at her. "Down the left hallway, take a right. Please try to, um, not wipe your feet on the floor while you walk across the carpet. I just had it brought in from the free marches."

"Guys you can handle Loghain bursting in once he notices Teagan gone right? I'm just gunna go… for an hour. Or more. Probably more."

Leliana caught her by the arm and held tight. "Not so fast."

"Actually, a bath doesn't sound half bad." Cailan glanced over at Duncan, a desperate hope in his eyes. "We've been travelling for a month and a half. If we're discovered, I'd at least like to be clean when it happens."

"Do you people have zero self preservation instincts?" Carver asked, watching as Cinna slowly tried to wrench her arm free. Leliana had an ironclad grip, hardly moving even as she put her whole weight into it.

Cinna stared at carver, still fruitlessly trying to claw her way to the bathtubs. "You have no idea How Desperate I Am. Carver I would do anything for a bar of soap."

"I find that hard to believe," He scoffed.

"I would do almost anything for a bar of soap," she amended. Anything requiring her to shirk her pride or honor or morals or was too yucky was off the table. Blood magic could stay though.

"I appreciate your enthusiasm, Cinna, but there are other matters to be attended to," Duncan said, making a not-so-subtle gesture to Teagan and Cailan and the heraldry hanging on the walls around them.

Cinna let out a petulant sigh and ran a hand over her grimy, grease-covered face. "Fiiiine. Okay, I get it-I was still planning on helping in the civil war thing after I cleaned up a bit."

Cailan grabbed Teagan's arm and pulled him closer, beseeching, "Are things truly as dire as we've heard? What has Loghain been saying in my absence?"

"Many troubling things," Teagan started, sitting down beside his nephew. He put his hand over Cailan's and gave him a warm smile. "What's important is that you're alive and that you're safe, here with me."

Cailan nodded, slightly teary-eyed, and engulfed Teagan in a hug. "It's good to see you again, uncle."

"It's good to see you again too," he laughed, patting Cailan on the shoulder. A second passed while everyone else mostly just sood around the room watching them, before Teagan awkwardly cleared his throat and pulled away. "Perhaps, though, your company was right to want to run to the baths..."

"I've never been more filthy in my life, Teagan!" Cailan rubbed a dirty hand over his unshaven mess of a face. "It rained for two weeks while we were on the road. Two weeks! I've had to do... horrible things to get a roof over my head."

"He wiped counters," Carver sighed. "It wasn't that bad."

"It was horrible." Cailan shivered. "I just hope things here have been going somewhat smoothly?"

"If you wanted good news, I'm sorry to disappoint you," Tegan said slowly. He gestured for the others to accommodate themselves, and Cinna basically just sat down on the floor, dragging Leliana down with her. "Loghain has been riling up the nobles, forcing them to pick sides, spreading lies and falsehoods about your death and about rumors of you allowing Orlesian forces entrance into the country."

"Ah, thats..." Cailan shifted uncomfortably. "That last one is... partially true..."

"What?!" Teagan stared at him. "What do you mean? How could you-after everything our country's been through-?"

"What I wanted was to unite the country against the blight. I wanted the Orlesian grey wardens to assist us," Cailan hissed. "What I didn't count on were all of my allies abandoning me when I needed them most."

The Bann blinked at him. "They didn't show?"

"No." Cailan ran a hand through his hair, a grim expression on his face. "And to be quite honest, I don't think Empress Celene was even interested in helping in the first place. I was... foolish. I know I was. And I've... suffered the consequences. I'm still suffering the consequences." He looked back up at the Teagan. "How many of the nobles have turned their back on the crown?"

"I fear it's more than enough to give Loghain the power he wants..." He grimaced. "The bannorn has held firm, though, in their support. I want you to know that, even after the disagreements we've had in the past, Cailan. When my brother heard of your fall at Ostagar, he was devastated. He felt responsible-he... he still doesn't know you're alive, actually..."

"Perhaps... the fewer people know about my current condition, the better," Cailan said slowly.

Teagan stared at him. "Why is that? Surely if the country heard of your survival, they'd flock to your side. We could prevent civil war!"

"I know that, Teagan, but i just... I can't..." Cailan struggled for the right words, and looked down at his lap. "I... fear what some may say once they find out the extent of... my injuries..." He drew in a steady breath. "If Loghain is playing on their fears of another occupation, my appearance may not make much of a difference."

"Sire, are you so sure?" Duncan asked, stepping in. "You could easily gain back the company you've lost... The country loved you as its king."

"And they love Loghain for freeing them from the Empire," Cailan shot back. He clenched his fists by his sides and bit the side of his cheek. "Besides, I... I can see why so many would flock to his side. The love that I have as ruler has always been because King Maric. My father has done more for Ferelden than I have... riding on his coattails."

"Cailan..." Teagan said, shocked. He didn't seem to know what to do- as if he was being faced with a completely different person than the nephew he was used to. "You truly have been through the worst."

He sighed but, thankfully, put on a tired smile. "But I am alive-sort of-so there's that."

"Which is why I say we live in the moment, and recuperate while we can while Loghain wastes time trying to win Eamon over," Cinna said, sitting cross legged on the floor, staring up at them. "When he gives up and realizes it's a moot point, that's when we show up, clean and washed and on top of our game, with like, a bunch of super awesome elven warriors to beat his forces back, that's when all the nobles will realize who's in charge and come running back."

Teagan squinted at her. "Did you say Elven warriors?"

"Yeah we're making use of the ancient warden treaties," explained Cinna. "Duran and Alistair and the other half of our group are gathering the dalish while we hang out in Redcliff. We actually... didn't think a reunion with you would happen until much later," she confessed.

"Alistair survived too?" He exclaimed, standing up abruptly.

Duncan nodded, patting the Bann's shoulder. "Thankfully, yes. He and Duran Aeducan escaped much of the initial battle, and we regrouped shortly after."

"An Aeducan?" Teagan looked like he was about to faint. "That is... a lot. Excuse me, I just-" He looked back down at Cinna, dumbfounded. "You're telling me you plan on uniting Ferelden... against the blight... and Loghain. With or without the help of the aristocracy."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Why, does that sound too much like a fairytale? I guess it could come off as a little cliche..."

Teagan let out a startled laugh and shook his head. "No... Not at all. In fact, that sounds exactly like what we need right now."

"Good." Cinna nodded, climbing to her feet. "Now, if we're done politicking and scheming," she dusted off her clothes and started pointedly at Teagan. "Where did you say the baths were again?"

x

The hallways were just as fancy and ornate as the main hall, with red throw rugs and paintings of various ages and size among the walls. Cinna passed fourteen different portraits of horses and dogs running along the countryside (and had the unfortunate realization that Teagan maybe had a kink for horseback riding) before she finally made it to the bathrooms, and by then a small army of staff and ladies in waiting were trailing behind her.

"Ma'am, please watch where you step," a butler-esq man said, gesturing to her dirty footprints on the plush carpeted floor.

"Oh, sorry, do you want me to just-" Cinna halted her forward march and bent over to untie her bootstraps. "Take them off?"

"Wh-so soon?" He looked fearfully over to the other staff members, when she stepped out of her shoes and tucked them under her arm.

"Better?" She smiled at him, and wiggled her toes on the carpet. It felt nice to have her feet free for the first time in ages. She missed walking around her house barefoot for no reason. She missed walking on carpet barefooted for no reason, actually. This was awesome.

The butler looked like he wanted to faint. Thankfully, a roundish, brunette woman stepped in and started gently guiding her over to the closest bathroom, so she couldn't ruin the floor any more than she already had. "This way, dear. Watch your step..."

She could hear down the hallway other staff members busting about, tending to Cailan and the others as they got settled, and Cinna let her attention drift from the group back onto herself as she stepped into the washroom. To call it a proper bathroom would be... inforrect. The room was large, cold and wooden, with stone floors and a large fancy looking bathtub sitting behind a divider. Which was weird, because if she was just having a bath alone, why would she need even more privacy?

"This place is… really nice," Cinna said lightly, as the butler shut the door behind him and the remaining lady servants filled the room and got to work, starting a fire in the fireplace to warm a large pot of water. "A little too much wood on… everything. Ceilings, walls, floors… but y'know, besides that, nice."

"What else would you have the ceilings be made of, stone?" The brunette servant snorted, easing Cinna back into a wooden chair and out of her cloak. "The Bann misses his time in Ansburg, my lady. He decorates his home the same way they do in the free marches."

"Well, I can… understand homesickness..." Cinna tensed up at her as she started undoing her braid. "Y-you don't… have to do everything. I can take it from here, thanks."

"Oh, but you're not in the wilderness anymore, my lady, you needn't worry about it," she said patiently, slowly pushing Cinna back into her chair. Eventually, with her careful brush strokes and calm humming, she won Cinna over. After a sweet pause, in which Cinna got comfortable and closed her eyes, the servant ventured in asking, "So, which family do you hail from?"

"Hm?" Cinna had totally lost her train of thought the moment someone else started playing with her hair. "Family?"

"Noble family? forgive me in asking-It's just that I've never seen someone want for a bath with such desperation."

"What do normal people do, sit and suffer? That's- oh my god I forgot I'm living in Medieval fantasy land." Cinna laughed and ran a hand through her hair, getting up from her chair. She stared at a bronze thing sitting in the corner, and laughed harder. "Is that a chamberpot?!"

"...Yes?" The woman shared a worried look with the other servant in the room and cautiously stepped towards her. "Is everything alright, my lady?"

"Oh, everything's fine. I'm fine." Cinna took in a big gulp of air and turned back to her, and the rest of the servants in the room. "Actually, uh, are you people going to be here the entire time? Not that I don't appreciate the help, but I could probably take things from here."

"Well... yes? It's our duty. To you and to the king and his companions," the servant said, confused. "How else are you to carry on?"

Cinna made a face, and gestured for some privacy. "Hot water goes in the tub. I'm not that helpless."

The woman took a step backwards, hairbrush clenched in hand. She looked back at the other servant, who had all paused in their duties, and were staring at Cinna like she had just said the worst thing imaginable. "Did I say something wrong, my lady?"

"N-no, not at all, I just... prefer getting undressed alone," Cinna said quickly, awkwardly ushering them out the door. She grimaced. "You know how particular us... nobles are... ha ha ha..."

The servant sent one last shocked look over her shoulder as Cinna shut the door behind her. "Are you sure this is wise, my-"

click.

Cinna's eye twitched as she locked the door and backed into the empty bathroom. My lady...? Ugh. If there ever became a time when people actually seriously started to refer to her with a title, Cinna would run back into the forest screaming.

She made her way over to the fireplace and observed the water sitting above the fire. It'd be a while before it actually boiled, so she went and sat in front of the vanity, picking up one of the combs and carted it through her hair. In the month that she had escaped Ostagar, her roots had grown unbearably obvious. If she was going to hang tight for a year and maybe try to cure the blight, the first thing she was going to need was hair dye. Or a way to create her own bleach. Or-

Wait, if she was messing around with cells and delicate immune system shit, couldn't she just use blood magic to fix her hair?

"Oh my god, it's perfect," she whispered.

Cinna leaned forward towards the vanity, and started pawing at her dark roots. In theory, it could work... It wasn't like she had gone and dyed her hair cotton candy pink or anything-it was just a bleach job with some streaks... All she had to do was strip some of the melanin from the cuticles of her hair. It was simple. It'd be easy.

(It wasn't.)

When Cinna asserted her minimal amount of magical control onto her hair, there were a few things she didn't take into account. First of all being a rule, which she would soon learn after, and (totally) never break again, which was: not to ever practice blood magic on herself. Because shit like that got out of hand. And always-

Always

Backfired.

"Oh... that doesn't look right." Cinna pulled at her hair and froze when parts of it broke off in her hands. "OH... my god, no, no, no--"

She reached for a comb and tried to pull it through her hair, and more and more strands came loose.

"I'm an IDIOT-" And of course the first thing she did to try and stop the rapid deterioration of her hair was to use more blood magic. Because that worked so well in the first place.

"JUST... STAY PUT!" She hissed to her hair, jabbing her fingers into her dark brown roots, which- had started turning an ugly grey color. "Stop it, stop it! Fuck!"

For the moment though, her hair stopped falling out, and she sat there, frozen for a moment, staring in horror at what she just did. If there was a maker, he'd be laughing at her right about now, because Cinna had, in fact, just made her roots go prematurely grey, and it was all her dumb fucking fault.

Tearfully, she turned towards the fireplace and dipped a bucket into the great cauldron of water still sitting, unboiled, on the fire. It took all her self control not to dunk her entire head into the bucket when she gloomily sat bad down at the vanity, but she took a rag and slowly started working it through her locks, growing more and more despaired as damaged strands of hair broke off into her hands.

She was... such an idiot...

Cinna buried her face in her hands and groaned. "I look like the fucking cryptkeeper...!"

She was about an inch away from cutting off all her hair together and being done with it, before someone started shrieking out in the hallway. Cinna rose, hair problems postponed, and went to check it out.

She opened the door to a very frightened and tearful servant, hand to her chest, clutching onto one of Cailan's shirts. "I-It's the King! He's got the blight!"

Ah.

Shit.

In retrospect, maybe encouraging everyone to strip down and take a bath had been a bad idea.