Chapter 16

The next few days seemed to go by faster then the others. The walking became familiar, my feet seemed to get used to it rather quick, the soreness in them seeming to start later each day. Camp was set quicker every night. Duncan taught me a few more things, I already knew how to pick locks but he also showed me how to make and disarm traps. Mainly for the purposes of hunting, but I assumed it might be more useful than that if he wanted to show me.

He also helped me with identifying different plants, what was safe to eat, which ones made good kindling, which ones to stay away from and so on. I memorized all of it, though I wish I had some way to write it all down just in case.

Apparently as a Grey Warden the need to travel is common and you can't always stop in a town, meaning you had to learn to survive outside of that. That meant learning how to make salves, food, camp, anything and everything from whatever you could find. I shared with him what I knew about making poisons, though it wasn't much compared to what he managed to teach me over the next few days. I didn't even realize how much I had learned until I was able to set camp, get the fire going, get us drinking water, and set the traps all by myself while he went into the forest to forage and hunt for dinner on our last night of making camp.

How the hell did he manage to teach me so fast? I thought as I started my usual tossing and turning for the night. Is it just something he can do? I learned more spending a little over a week on the road with him about surviving then I ever did from what mom was able to teach me before… I sighed, forcing my eyes to shut. At least if the worst comes to pass and I don't make it as a Grey Warden, I'm plenty capable of surviving on my own.

Despite me knowing that we would arrive at Ostagar tomorrow morning and I should be resting more thoughts were surfacing. I had been away for almost ten days now, how was everyone doing? Is Shianni starting to get back on her feet? Is Soris happy being married to Valora? Is father doing okay? Has the arl done anything to them? Has Valendrian been able to keep the alienage safe from backlash? Do they resent me? Are they proud? How many people mourned the loss of their loved ones? Did all of those men deserve to die? What if I die? What if I get turned away from the Grey Wardens and sent back to be executed? Could I fight the darkspawn? Would I be able to pass whatever this Joining is?

I rubbed at my eyes with the heels of my palms, trying to physically push the thoughts out and away. I needed to rest or I wouldn't be ready for whatever will come tomorrow. I had my blades, my mother taught me how to fight fast and do it well, Duncan taught me how to survive, I had my armor, I wasn't defenseless anymore. I could do this. If I could keep the truth of my conscription to myself, manage to play nice with the camp full of shems, then I can do this.

I huffed quietly as I tried once again to fall asleep, when I heard one of the traps outside snap shut, quickly breaking through my half asleep daze. I was up and had my weapons around my hips in a second before running out of the tent, the armor would take too long. Duncan was standing as well, his blades in his hands. He glanced at me, making a sign to keep silent as he walked towards where the trap had sounded. I quickly and silently flipped my blades into my hands, feeling the hairs on the back of my neck rise in worry and my skin prickled against the night air. What must have only been a few seconds of Duncan checking the trap, felt like a lifetime. Then I heard the familiar sound of iron hitting iron.

On pure instinct I dropped down low, and watched as an arrow flew overhead. I glanced in the direction it came from to see two men, one with a bow another holding a sword and shield. The man with the shield came charging at me as the archer prepared another arrow. I ran up and met the man with the shield, using his form to block the archer's aim. He lifted his sword up in a high arc and I met it with one of my blades before spinning the other and slashing it towards his throat. He blocked it with his shield and I realized in an instant, he wasn't a drunk off duty guard or slow moving like the ones from the palace. He was a bandit who could move almost as fast as me.

He shoved me backwards with his shield but I kept my footing, raising my blades above my head, blocking his sword once again before kicking him in one of his knees as hard as I could. I gagged slightly at the crunching sound his knee made when my boot made contact and he slumped down onto one leg. I took my chance and slashed his throat, making sure that my blade was deep and fast. Despite the spray of blood I was met in the face with, a feeling that was all too familiar and impossible to forget, he died quickly. My attention was now on the archer who could now fire on me easily with his partner downed. He wasted no time in notching another arrow and firing it, quickly firing a second as well. The first one I was able to avoid, but the second tore open my shoulder as it went past. I had put myself in the arrows path by dodging the first, thankfully it didn't seem to be too bad of a wound and I was still able to hold onto my blade. I also remembered that if he pulled the same trick again, all I had to do was drop down or jump further back.

I quickly ran towards him, not dead on as I turned on my heels to alter my direction every time he got him aim set. He started to fire the arrows more at random and a plan in my head quickly formulated, I sheathed one of my swords before grabbing the dagger that resided next to it on my belt. Flipped the blade in my hand as I lifted my arm in an arc above my head before throwing the dagger as accurately as I could towards the man. I heard him cry in pain, meaning I had hit him. I ran faster now and when I was finally close enough, I pushed my blade into his chest. The dagger had hit him in one of his shoulders, which wasn't where I was aiming exactly but it worked well enough. I pulled both of my blades free before turning back towards the camp.

There was a silhouette by the fire and I expected the worst as I ran back, only to be met by Duncan who had been watching me approach. "How many more men were there?" He asked me.

"Two, they're… they've been dealt with. Is there a reason why bandits would attack such a small camp?" I asked him as I sat down near the fire, my legs burning from the running.

"They either saw a target they thought would be easy, or they were desperate." He answered as he sat down besides the fire.

I pulled my belt off before pulling my blades out to clean them feeling pain flare in my shoulder as I did. "Desperate would be my guess, possibly deserting soldiers considering they were skilled." I answered through gritted teeth before going to the tent and grabbing my pack.

"I didn't see any crests on their armor, more than likely they were bandits who haven't been seeing much luck with the army camped at Ostagar." He responded, and I thought back to the men, realizing he was correct.

I sat back down at my spot and grabbed my first aid kit along with what things I had to upkeep my weapons. I looked down at the cut on my shoulder, and thankfully it wouldn't need stitches as it wasn't deep enough, though I would have to sew my shirt now. I pulled the bandages from the kit before grabbing the small jar of elfroot salve I had made. I balanced the tin on my knee before quickly smearing the section of bandage that would be covering my skin.

Next I started to tend to the wound itself. I found a clean rag and quickly used water from my canteen to wet it before using it to clean it. Next I wrapped the bandage around my arm before knotting it with one hand and pulling it tight using my mouth to pull one end of the bandage. I closed the tin before slipping it back into the first aid kit, about to pass it to Duncan if he needed it but he was cleaning his blades, uninjured from the fight.

I'll need to get more elfroot the next chance that I get. I used most of it to make the salve. I thought of putting the first aid kit back into my bag before finally tending to my weapons.

"Those blades you've been carrying, those aren't the ones you returned to the alienage with but they are familiar. Were they your mothers?" Duncan asked me, and I realized it was the first time we had approached the topic of my mother.

"Yes, the armor I've been wearing was hers as well. Dalish made so it fits me better than anything made by humans." I answered as I wiped the blood off my blades, noticing the blood on my hands as I did. I should try and clean off as best I can before trying to get anymore rest.

"We'll see to you being made proper Grey Warden armor and weapons of your own when we return from Ostagar." He told me and I smiled a bit at the idea of having something entirely my own, made for me and no one else. "It shouldn't cost much to gather the materials, seeing as the amount needed will be small."

"Are you insulting my size?" I asked him, noticing the jab at my small stature and build, only earning a chuckle in response.

"Not at all, it was merely an observation. It's to your advantage anyways, we'll be able to afford higher quality materials for it." He said and while it was clear he was poking fun, I did like the idea of better armor of higher grade materials than the hardened leather my mother's made of. "You do look a lot like your mother. Almost her spitting image."

I smiled a bit at that, my mother was a beautiful woman. Her hair was a deep brown with tight curls and she had the same chocolate colored eyes that melded well with her dark skin tone. I inherited most of her features, the same skin tone, the same hair, but my eyes I knew were the one thing I had gotten from my father. The violent green a startling reminder that I wasn't my mother and Cyrion while being the man who cared for me and loved me, wasn't the man who fathered me. Technically making me a bastard as I don't know him and wasn't sure who he was.

"Almost her spitting image, except for my eyes, right?" I finished for him, sighing quietly. "I take it as a compliment at least, if I could be anything like my mother I would be happy."

He nodded. "That she was. If you don't mind me asking, Valendrian refused to answer, how did your mother die?" He asked me and I felt a chill run up my spine.

I hadn't had to answer that question in a long time. "She was walking back from work only a few minutes after curfew. She had a small blade on her to protect herself, given to her by the human she worked for." I started quietly, biting the inside of my lip so my jaw would stop shaking. "A few drunk shems stumbled across her, and when she tried to defend herself the men…they slaughtered her in the street." I spared the more gruesome details of what happened, the state in which her body was found and returned to us. "She screamed for help according to some of the shems in the tavern, but they turned a blind eye because she was an elf." I felt my grip tighten around the hilt of the blade I was cleaning before loosening it. "The guards blamed her, the men walked away without punishment, my father raised me alone after that." I finished, focusing back on my cleaning that I had almost finished.

I heard what I could only assume to be a disgusted sound come from Duncan. "An end unbefitting someone like Adia. My condolences on your loss. I believe the Dalish phrase is 'Let Falon'Din peacefully carry her ashes to the beyond.'"

I slipped my blades back into their sheaths. "Thank you." I said before slinging the belt over my uninjured shoulder and grabbing my pack silently heading to the tent.

I put my pack and belt down before dropping into the bed roll, groaning a bit from the pain in my shoulder. I turned to my other side and squeezed my eyes shut, trying to fight off the fresh tears in my eyes. My mother had been dead for most of my life now, but it didn't make accepting what happened to her any easier. She was just a few minutes late coming home because her boss had a problem she needed help with. Those few minutes cost her the rest of her life. She was supposed to be alive, be able to teach me more, to give me advice on what to do. I muffled the sounds of me crying by pressing my face into the ground and biting my cheeks.