Chapter 30: A Moment to Breathe
Mel left her spear-staff and purple vestments in her room at the Spoiled Princess, donning instead unassuming travelers' clothes. Of course, she still brought Spot with her. Especially in Ferelden, she had no doubt that her faithful white and orange-spotted companion would make this a little bit easier. Kester had taken her across the boat mostly without issue; family apparently did come to visit occasionally, though they were usually among the nobility.
She had never entered a Circle willingly before, especially not alone, and not to just "drop by" on family. Kinloch Hold was imposing, and a lot less accessible than Montsimmard had ever been, meaning escape— if necessary— would be a lot more difficult than breaking off from the crowd on the way back from a soirée after bribing a templar to destroy her phylactery.
Spot noticed that Mel was twitchy and licked her owner's hand comfortingly. Mel took a deep breath, looking back at the lake one last time, and scratching Spot behind the ear. "Not to worry old girl! We've done stupider things than this before… At least, I have. You've always been quite sensible."
Mel walked up to the great metal doors of the tower, knocking hard three times. From the other side, she heard a suspicious voice ask her: "We're not expecting visitors today, and you don't look like anyone from the approved list. State your business."
"My name is Bethann Amell, Ser Templar! I am a relative of one of your mages, Jaime Amell, from Kirkwall. With the Blight threatening Ferelden, I wanted to check on him and make sure he was safe. And so did Spot!" she said, prompting her dog to bark happily. She had been deliberately vague about the nature of her and Jaime's relationship. She knew the Circle had records of her and her siblings, but it was impossible to know which templars had a working knowledge of those documents.
She could hear the templars muttering from inside, and at one point distinctly heard them mention her mabari. After a few seconds of discussion, the door was opened. She was greeted by a templar with brown hair, a goatee and a friendly smile, and one with curly blonde hair and stubble, who was staring daggers at her.
"I am Knight-Captain Hadley, and this is Ser Cullen," the brown-haired templar explained. "As you are not on the list, you will have to wait in the lobby right now while we speak with Jaime and the First Enchanter."
Mel nodded amiably. "Of course, Knight-Captain," she said as Spot started to ingratiate herself to the knights. Even the most stalwart of Fereldan templars could not resist attention from a mabari, and Spot was quite affectionate when she needed to be.
Ser Cullen was sent to fetch Jaime, but not before voicing his objections. It was good to see that the more moderate templar was in command, but this Cullen fellow seemed a bit unhinged. She hoped he would not pose a danger to her brother.
It took about twenty minutes, but Ser Cullen eventually returned. In the intervening minutes, Mel had ferreted out as much as she could about what had happened in Kinloch Hold, and it was ugly business. She was happy Jaime had survived, but wanted to get him out of here as soon as she could. Him and Cullen came through the barrier doors, as Jaime was trying to figure out who had arrived. "You're certain this was a young woman? The only Bethann I know was my great aunt, and…" he trailed off, before locking eyes with Mel. He froze for a second, before a massive smile crossed his lips. "Oh, that Bethann!" he cried, running towards her and embracing her in a hug, whispering: "Marian, is that you?"
"It is so good to see you, Jaime," she said, nodding. She realized that her and Jaime were not going to get any privacy, but had a seat in some chairs in the lobby.
"So… Bethann, what brings you here?" he asked, happy to follow along with her charade. She was taking a big risk being here.
"I wanted to check on you, and make sure you were okay, what with the Blight and all. I also have some news about your siblings that—"
"That is not permitted, Mistress Bethann," Cullen explained curtly. "It would encourage escape."
Jaime did his best to look like a dejected puppy, pleading silently with Hadley. The Knight-Captain sighed deeply, clearly exasperated with Cullen. "Ser Cullen, you and I both know that Mister Amell had a chance to leave and join the Wardens with Mister Surana, but he chose to stay. His loyalty to the Circle is not in question."
Mel was surprised at this. Jaime stayed willingly? The same Jaime that had had to be knocked over the head when Mel and her siblings her taken from their father all those years ago?
"But, Knight-Captain, the Knight-Commander—"
"Is in Denerim at the moment, and I am in charge," he said angrily.
Cullen deflated, seeting. "Very well, Mistress Bethann. But watch yourself."
"Oh, I will, Ser Cullen! And what a treat I am to watch. Lucky you! Anyways, Jaime… Your younger sister, Elva, ended up back home in Kirkwall. I have been unable to see her, but I know that she passed her Harrowing. Clayton ended up in the Anderfels, and has joined the Grey Wardens last I heard. Your older brother, Floyd, is in Rivain at the Dairsmund Circle, and is incredibly happy there."
"And my eldest sister, Marian?" he asked, happy to find out about his siblings, though saddened for Elva. Kirkwall was a nightmare, if the reports were to be believed. Obviously, Marian had escaped, but from where? He wished he could hear about what really happened, but would have to be satisfied with the answers he received.
Mel smiled. "Marian lived at Montsimmard for many years, and was a powerful mage. Unfortunately, she escaped some years ago, and is presumed dead after being hunted by the templars," she said, putting her best sad face on.
The two of them talked for hours, catching up and reminiscing. Eventually, Cullen was dismissed, but Hadley remained, maintaining respectful distance and pretending not to listen. Jaime couldn't wait to tell Rayne about his family when he saw him again.
Evidently, now that Anora was at Soldiers' Peak, everybody wanted an audience with her, but that was good, because she wanted an audience with most of the new denizens of Soldier's Peak as well. The Commander had been gracious enough to let Anora and Keegan set up in her office for the day. She sat in the chair that had once belonged to Sophia Dryden, while Keegan sat to her right, and Erlina her left, prepared to take notes for the day.
First on the list— by Anora's insistence— was Evelyn Tabris. The dark-haired elf entered grumpily, along with Warden-Constable Enid and Arl Nathaniel. Anora was puzzled, as the meeting had only been with Eve herself, though she said nothing. Nathaniel bowed deeply, Eve following suit, if slightly less enthused. Enid simply nodded to them and took a seat to Eve's right, across from Erlina. She raised her hands and smiled, saying: "Don't worry; I'm only here for moral support."
Eve was trying her best to be respectful and formal, and asked, quietly: "May I ask as to the nature of my summons, Your Majesty?"
"Certainly, Miss Tabris," Anora replied warmly. "Keegan and I have been talking… And we must both apologize, but myself especially. Until recently, I had believed that elves, while second-class citizens, were lucky to be Fereldan, and that we were different than, say, Orlais. I believed— mistakenly— that the status quo was good. Erlina was one of the first elves to show me what your people can be, if just given the opportunity, and it was not until she and your hahren hid me in the Alienage that I truly understood the plight of your people… Or so I thought. It was only after I heard from Arl Nathaniel about what you and your people had suffered at the hand of the Kendalls, I think, that I understood the extent to which Ferelden— and I— have failed you. For whatever it is worth, I am truly sorry," Anora declared, letting it hang in the air for awhile. Enid put her hand on Eve's shoulder, and Nathaniel looked at her nervously. Eve remained silent, however, face impassive as she let Anora continue.
"What you are no doubt thinking, however, is that words, no matter how pretty, are ultimately meaningless. In order for this apology to mean something, it needs action, and action is what we intend to take… But not blindly. What might seem a good idea to an outsider could be disastrous in your day-to-day lives. Thus, should you be willing, we are asking for your input into how to ameliorate the lives of Fereldan elves."
"Are you sure about that, Anor— er, Your Majesty?" she asked skeptically, trying to give Anora the deference she was apparently due.
Nathaniel put a hand on her shoulder and nodded at her.
"I am, Miss Tabris," the Queen assured the elf.
"Alright, well… First of all, build us sewers. It's no wonder plague breaks out when we have nowhere to put our shit and piss."
Anora was shocked at the frankness, but mildly amused. No one used words like that in front of her, especially not elves. Keegan was snickering.
"Second: let us own our homes. The slumlords set rent as high as they can while ensuring we still have money for food, barely. They leave our homes in disrepair and fine us for fixing them ourselves… or 'making alterations'. If you had simply permitted us to own shops, join a trade, or take any other job— which you should do, by the way— the slumlords would simply see it as a way to make more profits. It wouldn't solve anything But, third, yeah… Give us legal ways of making money. If you outlaw every respectable profession, of course we're going to turn to crime. We have no other options. Make sure the new Arl hires some elves to the city guard, or maybe add some to your personal retinue— as long as they prove themselves, of course. Give merchants and cooks and tanners and weavers employment opportunities elsewhere, and give the guards some oversight. Too many times have I woken up to find a friend or family member violated by one of the guard, or even killed. Make sure that the guard investigates when we complain, because we probably have good reason to. Oh… and lastly… Make every Alienage of sufficient size its own bannorn."
Until then, Anora had been on board, already thinking up ways to achieve Eve's suggestions, most of which she had considered herself. The bannorn came out of nowhere and… Would need some thought. It was shocking, of course, but it not a terrible idea.
"The Denerim Alienage has a larger population than at least a third of all of Ferelden's bannorns," she continued. Nathaniel had mentioned that her mother had educated her more than the average elf, but did not illustrate the extent of it. "They have more than enough citizens to justify having their own banns," Nathaniel added. "Edgehall may not, but Gwaren's Alienage is only slightly smaller than Denerim's, and Highever's is much larger. Who better to advocate for the elves in the Landsmeet than an actual elf?"
They discussed details, and refined ideas, for a good hour or so. Anora made no promises, and was clear about that, but told Eve she was hopeful, and she believed it. Eve, however, had no such faith, but, for now, it was better than nothing.
Zevran awoke contented on Mayrin's broad chest, his rough tan skin warm in the morning sun. Mayrin was looking down at him, smiling. The dwarf's raven hair was getting longer, and his beard was growing out to a respectable dwarven length once again, soon long enough to braid.
Zevran yawned slightly, smiling back. "My dear Mr. Brosca, might I ask what brought on such an expression in this time of Blight? One might mistake you for an innocent young initiate, not a dashing Warden and Thedas' only chance of survival in a land that has outlawed him."
"Just taking it all in. Back home we learned to take our moments of happiness where we could, and it doesn't get much better than this right here. Especially now that we'll be heading back that shithole… Well, let's just say, I'm not optimistic about our prospects."
The elf looked melancholy for a moment, before putting his brave face back on. "Perhaps, my dear Mr. Brosca, but you left Orzammar a casteless duster with a bounty on his head and nary a copper to his name, and you return a respected Grey Warden, a hero to all of Thedas!" he said, sitting up and waving his hands empathically. "It doesn't hurt that you have a sword made of stars to impress them… And a gorgeous Antivan companion."
"True…" Mayrin said thoughtfully. "They— we— regard Wardens highly in Orzammar, and Starfang is pretty gorgeous."
"And?" Zevran asked expectantly.
"And what? That's it. Nothing else worth mentioning," Mayrin responded, kissing Zevran on the cheek.
"Is that so, my dear Mr. Brosca? You wound me!"
"You're the assassin. Isn't that your job?"
"As you recall, it is not something at which I am always successful.
The men began to crawl out of bed and dress. Mayrin usually ogled Zevran shamlessly, but he was still so distracted.
"Is there anything else, my dear Mr. Brosca, that I may do to put your mind at ease?"
Mayrin considered for a moment, hesitating.
"I've been thinking… There is one thing, but it's kind of embarassing, especially in such esteemed company…" he said quietly, trailing off.
"Go on, my Warden."
"Growing up in Dust Town, I never actually learned how to read. Do you— do you think you could teach me?"
"That is all? Of course I will teach you, though I am not certain how much progress you will make before we get to Orzammar. Still though, I have just the poems in mind…"
The day had been long, and Anora and Keegan were exhausted, but it had been quite successful. They learned about the Thaw and the Joining. Most importantly, they learned why Grey Wardens are so necessary to ending a Blight. The Warden-Commander said that, according to Avernus, all heads of state were privy to this information, as well as the Chantry and the Divine, which perhaps explained by Wardens were able to get away with as much as they were.
Perhaps more importantly, they learned just how much work would have to be done after the Blight. The Darkspawn tainted the land upon which they walked. Anora had heard about the Valarian Fields and the Anderfels, and it would spell disaster for Ferelden were the same fate to befall the bannorn. Rayne had a suggestion, and it made a lot of sense. Ferelden's remaining mages could purify the land with fire… And possibly even fight in Ferelden's army, or live outside of the circle serving bannorns or villages. Nobles had their own mages, why should freeman not?
Merrill and Enid also offered a solution for ensuring that Ferelden's breadbasket recovered as quickly as possible after the Blight: Dalish Keepers. Apparently, Circle mages had no talent for nature magic and were not taught anything of the sort, whereas it was the bread and butter of Dalish mages. If they were not killed on sight, they could do wonders for the bannorn's next harvest.
Enid also suggested, as a reward for both their aid in the Blight and their presumed help in the harvest, that the Dalish be granted a homeland once more. Anora was reluctant at first and promised nothing, but Merrill emphasized just how much longer recovery would be without the help of the Dalish, and how difficult it would be to convince the Keepers to help the shemlen without any guarantee of reward. Keegan had done some work convincing her though: Ostagar and the Brecilian Forest were mostly uninhabited, and giving the Dalish a homeland would stop any skirmishes the Dalish might have in human lands, or any complaints from the nobility of the elves hunting human game.
They could be given a voice in the Landsmeet, too, which would do wonders for elf-human relations… After a period of tumult, of course.
Keegan and Anora were also appraised of the reason for which Wardens were so needed, as were all heads of state, according to the Warden-Commander. At least, they were in the time of Sophia Dryden. Cailan knew, presumably… Which is perhaps why he had put so much stock into the Wardens. But why had he not told Anora, or Loghain? So much of this could have been avoided if not for the Wardens' infernal secrets. Still, that the darkspawn were dangerous was no great secret.
Why had father not yet met them again on the battlefield? Why had he focused on seizing power in Denerim? And why had she let him, for that matter? She had been such a fool. If father wanted what was best for the country, Ferelden's army would be in the bannorn fighting the darkspawn now, not fighting itself. Anora had trusted her father. He was a man to whom she compared all others. And yet… his influence on her had left them ill-prepared for this Blight.
Any other nation in Thedas would have had their allies flooding in to help them, but father's fear of foreigners had prevented Maric and Cailan from ever establishing any true alliances. Like a fool, she had thought he was correct, that Ferelden should stand on its own… But at a time like this, wouldn't it be fortuitous to have some allies? Not the Orlesians, of course, but perhaps some Marcher cities, or the Nevarrans? Still, she had been queen for five years. This was just as much her fault as his, and she had to fix it.
Mercy summoned Leliana to her quarters before they went to bed for the evening. She enjoyed Leliana's company greatly, and the two had grown close. There would perhaps be a chance for it to become more… If this conversation did not go how she anticipated it going.
Leliana smiled at her warmly. "I know that look. You have something on your mind, don't you?" she said as she moved closer to Mercy, grabbing her hand.
"I do… It's about Marjolaine," Mercy said softly.
"Oh? I told you: I would prefer not to have to wait, but our current quests are more important than chasing her to Denerim. She will no doubt grow impatient, but we are fighting the Blight!"
Mercy sighed. "I did not want to talk about when we are pursuing her, but what you intend to do with her after we find her."
"Oh! Well, like I said, we must confront her… I suppose it depends on her. I hadn't really given it much, thought, honestly…" Leliana said absentmindedly, before shrugging. "We will figure it out. Marjolaine could not hope to stand against the fabled Grey Wardens!"
Mercy smiled sadly. "Well… I have. You have been an incredible asset so far… Your skill with a bow, with stealth, and with picking pockets… Your knowledge, your charm, you have been a great asset. While you would make an exemplary Warden, I am not going to force that on you. However, Marjolaine trained you… And if the teacher is even half as competent as the student, I … intend to conscript her," Mercy said quietly.
Leliana let Mercy's hand fall, gasping as she took a step back. "You must be joking! Marjolaine is dangerous, Mercy. She is conniving and paranoid, and cares only for herself. You'd just as soon recruit a scorpion! At least you wouldn't be shocked when the scorpion stings you."
"I'm not joking. Of course, if it seems that she is going to stab us in the back, will be a hindrance, or will desert, she will be executed, but she must be given the chance," Mercy uttered quietly, but with conviction.
"Marjolaine had me imprisoned, and tortured! She left me to die! She didn't betray me because I moved against her, but because it was fun! You cannot be considering letting someone like that Join the Grey Wardens!"
Mercy met her gaze. Perhaps it would have been easier to blindside Leliana, and enjoy this last bit of their time together… But that was not who Mercy was raised to be. "I can. I am. We take all sorts, Leliana. We are needed to end the Blight, and more Wardens we have, the better our chances are. Beside, the Joining is often fatal anyways… Even with the old mage's modifications. This discussion is most likely academic."
"I…" Leliana began, tears welling up in her eyes. "I hope that it is, Mercy. If this were anyone else, I might even agree with you, but not Marjolaine… I have vowed to help you stop the Blight, and I will not shirk my duty. But… But if you do this, I am unsure if there can be anything further between us," she stated sadly.
Mercy clenched her jaw, trying not to betray any emotion. "I thought that might be the case. While it pains me, I understand your decision."
Leliana met Mercy's eyes for a few more seconds, staring at her sadly before leaving and softly closing the door behind her. Mercy collapsed into her chair as the tears began to flow freely.
Darla laughed uproariously as she hit her new friend Ruby in the face with a snowball. Wynne, and Levi and Rose Dryden watched as Darla continued her snowball fight with Ruby and Jonah Dryden. Of all of the mages he had met so far, Wynne seemed the least intimidating, not like that blood mage Avernus… Perhaps it was because she was a proper Circle mage, and had received approval to leave and go on this journey.
She had brought little Darla to Soldier's Peak from the Arling of South Reach. They had needed someone to take care of her, now that the Wardens and their friends were leaving again to do some heroing. Levi had been nervous about it, but Rose had been absolutely taken with young Darla. She agreed to see how Darla played with Ruby and Jonah, and they seemed to be taken with each other.
"She doesn't seem to want to talk about what she's seen, but she's a smart young woman, and resilient, as children often are. Young Darla knows her letters, which is an unusual for a peasant girl. Thank you for taking her in. A learned child is a blessing upon his parents and onto Maker. While you are not her parents, I have faith that Darla will be a blessing for you," Wynne asserted.
"Thank you, Senior Enchanter," Levi said sincerely.
"She is so darling, isn't she Levi? I have a good feeling about this. You don't know this, Enchanter Wynne, but Levi and I had been trying to have a third child for some time… This truly is a blessing."
"Already she seems part of your family," Wynne smiled.
"All who walk in the sight of the Maker are one," Rose said serenely. "She already is."
"You know the Chant well, Mrs. Dryden. That speaks well of you. I am glad to see that Darla is in good hands."
"You're sure you don't want to go back?" Alistair asked Diala as they woke up in the morning, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. "Surely you have people in Orzammar other than your father you cared about."
"I'm sure. Of course I did but… Stone I hated it there. I was close to my brothers, despite their faults, until one murdered the other and framed me for it, of course. The nobles I knew were either scheming to get me on their side, or out of the way, and the warriors and smiths I knew were too busy trying to earn my favour to actually talk to me. Even Pyral will try to use me to justify becoming king… And I can't with certainty say that he'd be any better a king than Bhelen. No, other than Gorim in Denerim, my father would have been the only reason I returned."
"Well, my dear, if you're sure," he said, kissing her on the lips. "I, for one, could never understand people treating you differently just because your father was someone important."
"Of course not, Alistair. You were raised by dogs, remember?"
"You remembered! Eventually, I'll have to introduce you… Though I have to warn you, they're slobbery kissers."
They both chuckled at that, before sighing and collapsing into one another, Alistair stroking her hair.
"Despite the Blight, my father, Trian, and everything that's happened… Depsite it all, I'm happy I met you Alistair, and I'm happy to be a Grey Warden. I care for you a great deal… My prince."
Alistair was flustered and sputtered for a moment, before kissing her on the head and smiling. "And I you, princess."
A few notes! Thanks again to everybody who has favourited, followed and reviewed.
Before we head off to Orzammar: a reminder that Beraht is alive in this canon, as Bodahn smuggled out Mayrin and Leske before they escaped themselves to cut their way through the Carta hideout.
I have plans for Jaime, Mel and the other Amell siblings after the 5th Blight if we get that far. Depends how much traction this story gets, I suppose!
It's possible Leliana and Mercy might reconcile later... We'll see. I need to figure out how Marjolaine is going to play out before I can decide that.
I know that Leliana is trying to be all good and about forgiveness and stuff at this point in her life, but considering her characterization in Leliana's song, Inquisition, and even her cameo in 2, we know that what we see in Origins is not the only facet of her personality. There is a dark, human part of her, and I don't think that she would be down for fighting alongside Marjolaine, nor would she have any reason to expect that conscripting Marjolaine would be a supremely stupid move on Mercy's part.
We'll be checking in on Redcliffe next chapter, and then getting back to the main quests the chapter after that.