Chapter Twelve: Big Friggin Hero
It took about a week, but we finally got back to Haven, where Mum was at the gate waiting for us to return. One of the soldiers helped me down off the horse, while Mum fussed over me, wiping imaginary dust off my coat and straightening out my lapels.
"Let me have a look at you, then," she said. "Oh, there's our Herald - is that a new coat, dear? Did you get that in Orlais?"
"Stop that, Mum, I just got back," I replied, playfully swatting her hands from me. And the soldiers are watching."
"Oh, nonsense. They probably wish their mums were here, too, to fuss over them. Now, let me show you what I've done with some of that beautiful cloth you sent back from Val Royeaux."
All in all, I was gone nearly a month, and in that time, Haven had turned into a fully-functioning base of operations. Belle from Val Royeaux had really come through, and supplies were coming in to town from all over Thedas, meaning that Mum was able to make better clothing for our people, Harritt had his forge working nearly non-stop cranking out top-quality weapons and armor, and Flissa was stocked with some of the heartier, if not the finest, ales and spirits available. A mess hall, of sorts, was set up adjacent to the inn, and everyone in the Inquisition was getting three square meals regularly, something that many of the elves and not a few of the humans had never had in their lives. There was a VIP mess as well, but Josephine drew the line there, managing to convince the other leaders that we should only use that section when we had visiting dignitaries to entertain. She had already hosted a number of Banns and Comtes and perhaps an Arl or two - I couldn't tell the difference, honestly - and was putting the clout we gathered in Orlais to good use. Cullen's army was gaining recruits from as far away as Verchiel and South Reach, and while elves weren't being used in the army, a dozen or so scout-recruits came from the Jader alienage, giving us an Orlesian-speaking scouting presence for the other side of the Frostbacks.
"And let me show the loom that Threnn was able to find for me. I even have a nice shemlen girl who's helping me as a drawboy. Pretty young thing, good with her hands, too. She's about your age, you know."
"Mum! I really don't need you making matches for me."
"I suppose you don't, do you?" Mum replied with one of her wicked pointed looks. "Fabric's never really been your thing, has it? But I've heard you don't mind a little lacework these days…"
"Right. Good seeing you, Mum, but I'm off!" I barked, nearly pulling away from her, until I saw her start to chuckle.
"Oh, lethallan, let a mother have her fun. It was all the talk last week. Apparently, you were quite the dashing rogue, protecting your lady from that nasty comte. And then the elegant Madame de Fer simply – poof – takes care of him for you."
"He was a marquis, Mum. And Vivienne didn't want me to ruin my new armor with his arterial splatter, that's why she froze him. Plus, she really doesn't like it when people call her that."
Mum laughed. "And now we're on a first-name basis with the Court Enchanter of Orlais?"
"She'll actually be joining us here in Haven. She wants to help, out in the field and everything."
"I don't like you getting too close to that magic, Nessa," Mum warned. "But you've worked everything out so far. And it's probably better her out there with you than that strange Solas fellow, anyway. Just be careful, okay?"
"Of course, Mamae."
"Don't 'Mamae' me, lethallan. I don't know exactly what you get up to out there, but I'm sure 'careful' has nothing to do with it."
I blew her a kiss and headed up to the Chantry to debrief from the trip and ran into Cassandra along the way.
"I should congratulate you on a successful trip, Herald," she said.
"Should I be offended that you sound surprised, Cassandra?"
"I shouldn't think so. You are very talented with a pair of daggers, and your ability to move in shadow is excellent. But I wouldn't have picked you as someone who could negotiate the kind of diplomatic situations you found yourself in as easily as you did. So, yes, I am pleasantly surprised. And I hope you are, too."
"Honestly, I'm kinda surprised I didn't start another war or an Exalted March or something. I guess the Maker was looking out for us over there."
Cassandra paused a moment, then put a hand on my shoulder and stopped me.
"Do you believe in the Maker, then?" she asked.
"Um, maybe?" I answered. "I mean, I know there's something out there bigger than any of us, and I don't just mean the Breach. And, this world all had to come from something, right? I don't know if 'the Voice of the Maker rang out, and His Word became all that might be,' is exactly how it happened, but it's as good a story as any."
"You know your chant."
"You pick it up spending 12 hours a day in a Chantry."
"And the Chantry mothers," Cassandra asked, "did they never invite you to services?"
"We were allowed, of course. But it wasn't exactly encouraged. I mean, there's a reason that they bring a service into the Alienage each week, right? How many elves have you ever seen in the congregation of one of your big Chantry services in Nevarra or Val Royeaux?"
"I – I am sorry" Cassandra said, "That is awful. I suppose I'd hoped our Chantry clergy would have been more sensitive to such things."
"No, they weren't. But, to answer your original question, the spiritual and religious needs of the people cleaning up after the Chantry mothers wasn't a top priority of the Denerim chantry, or its Grand Cleric."
The War Room meeting itself took about an hour and a half. We discussed some political machinations with the Chantry in Val Royeaux that Leliana said she was going to deal with, some rumors about the Inquisition kidnapping the Divine that Josephine would handle, and Cullen sent an honor guard to Highever to attend a memorial service for the same Divine that Josephine was convincing people we didn't kidnap. It was strangely fascinating, trying to channel Leliana's murder impulse into useful pursuits, finding a place Cullen could send people to march, and watching Josephine contemplate eviscerating entire flocks of nobles with a few strokes of her quill. This was the first time that I wasn't directly involved, which gave me an easier feeling about the whole thing.
"What sense did you get from Grand Enchanter Fiona, Your Worship?" Josephine asked, once all that had been settled.
"She looked like Val Royeaux was the last place in the world she wanted to be, for one," I replied. "It was like she couldn't stand still. I got the feeling that she wants so much more from us than we do from her, and we want a whole lot from her."
"Do you think she's bluffing?" Cullen asked.
"Bluffing how? I mean, maybe, but if she's gotten the mages someplace safe, then – I don't know. But something was off about her."
"And this is why I think we should wait and contact the Templars. There's always too much uncertainty with mages."
"Regardless," Leliana continued, "with mages we know that…"
I just sort of watched. Shems are interesting like that - it seems like their only goal sometimes is to shout over each other to try to get the upper hand. Well, Cullen and Cassandra were kinda shouting; at least their voices were definitely raised. Leliana sort of growled in that 'I'm going to send people to torture you until you come to my point of view' way she had. Josephine sounded like she wasn't mad, just disappointed at how little the others understood.
After a few minutes of that they turned to me, and my first response was something along the lines of "It really doesn't matter to me. Templars, mages, as long as we get the job done, right?"
Leliana rolled her eyes. Cullen just huffed and shook his head. Josephine gave a side-eye withering in its subtlety. But Cassandra had moved beyond annoyed straight into frustrated.
"That is unacceptable, Herald!" she said, slamming her hand on the table and turning to me. "You may not have asked for it, you may not even want it, but you are here among the leaders of the Inquisition because you belong here. Your input is vital to our efforts, and, frankly, I have had it with having to stop what we are doing to remind you of this. Whatever you were before you were touched by grace and marked by the Maker, you are no longer that person, and at this point it is an affront to everything I believe in that you continue to deny this.
I was beyond chastened - I was mortified by my actions. Maybe I was still exhausted from the trip, I don't know, but a tear began to roll down my cheek for the first time since I saw Shianni come back from Arl Kendell's abduction. Cassandra continued, unmoved.
"We can no longer afford to wait on your fits of pique, Herald. If you do not wish to be here, you are excused, and we will inform you of our decision when the time is right."
By this point I was shaking, and the tears were falling more freely. In the most confident voice I could muster, which wasn't very confident at all, I replied,
"I'm sorry."
Cassandra fairly growled at this and raised her voice further. "I did not ask you for an apology, Herald," she spat, "I asked for your input. Templars or mages, Herald? Templars or mages?"
"Cassandra!" Leliana exclaimed. "That is quite enough."
I raised my hand to stop Leliana. "No, she's right. But I really don't know whether Templars or mages would be the better choice to help me close the breach." I took a deep breath, steadied myself against the table as best I could and continued. "What I do know is that Fiona looked shady, and I'm kind of an expert in shady."
"Which I have been meaning to ask you about, Your Worship," Josephine said. I chuckled and continued.
"Yeah, I guess we should talk about that sometime. Anyway, Fiona looked like she was hiding something big. I don't know what's going on in Redcliffe, but whatever it is, it's not good, and we should probably have a look."
The room fell silent, and for a moment I thought I'd said the wrong thing somehow, until Cassandra spoke.
"Thank you, Herald. I agree. We should leave for Redcliffe as soon as we can."
"Um, hey, look," I piped up, "I probably shouldn't be asking for anything at this point, but could we hold off on that for a bit? I'm still worn down from the last trip, and I don't want to go into this half-assed, you know? Maybe a week? Besides, shouldn't it be more than just a small group? We're looking at a group of mages here - if things go bad, we're going to want some backup, especially if my hand is coming along. Maybe... Cullen? Could we muster…"
"A company? A battalion?" he asked.
"Not quite sure what the difference is, but whatever enough people is. Leliana, could you send some of your people to find out how dug in they are?"
"We don't need to do that, Herald," Cullen said. As I started to make apologetic noises, he cut me off. "No, under normal circumstances you're absolutely right, but we only have so many men, and we need to keep a force at home to defend Haven. I can spare 60 veterans and a dozen recruits."
"How many of those were Templars?" I asked, feeling a bit more secure. "If we have to get into it with mages, we're going to need people who can dispel magic and Silence like a Templar."
"Of course, Your Worship," Cullen replied. "I will make sure that most of the veterans we send are former Templars."
I did a good job trying to play off that I'd just given Cullen an order. At least, I was pretty sure I had.
"How long will it take to get all that put together?" I asked.
"We should be able to move out within 10 days."
"If that's alright with everyone else, then, I guess we'll start with that. Perhaps we can get some contingencies together for when we get to Redcliffe in the meantime."
The meeting adjourned informally shortly after that, with the other four having things to attend to. I stayed there for a bit, looking at that war table. We'd just spent the better part of an hour and a half moving pieces around Ferelden, Orlais, and Kirkwall (a favor for Varric). Those pieces represented real people. Sure, Charter and Rector and Lace and them knew what they'd signed up for, as did most of Cullen's troops. But even so, they deserved something more for their efforts than to literally be a game piece.
I wondered if I had a game piece.
It took a few days, but Sera was finally able to catch up with me. I was in the tavern, which is not exactly the best place in Haven to go if you're hiding from her, but I really wasn't hiding. I was just busy and exhausted and not really up for talking with her. She can be a bit much. But find me she did, dragging a human soldier behind her.
"Oi, Nessa. This fella here's looking for you."
"Well, you've found me," I said, looking down at my ale. "What do you need?"
"Your Worship," he began, "my name is Cremisius Aclassi, Lieutenant with the Bull's Chargers mercenary company. I represent our leader, The Iron Bull, who -"
"That's some name," I said
"He's earned it. Big Qunari fellow, horns wider than I am tall. And he'd like to speak with the Inquisition about providing our services. We're the best company you'll find, and we've got references to back it up. We'll be along the Storm Coast in two weeks' time clearing out a group of Tevinter fanatics who've nested there, and would be honored if you'd come see us in action."
"You guys kill Tevinters?" I asked.
"Aye, Your Worship."
"Good. Those fuckers tried to enslave my whole alienage."
"Come again?" Aclassi asked. "Your whole alienage?"
"It happened during the blight. They got the Elder, got the Hero of Ferelden's dad. She rescued them, but others, like my dad, were sent off before she got there. They made up this illness or gave us all a cold or something - I don't know - but I'll be happy to gut a few of them for you if it makes your life easier, shem."
"Am I going to have to watch my back, Herald? I grew up in Tevinter myself."
"But you kill them, right?"
"Some of them," Aclassi replied. "No big loss for me, personally. They wanted to put me in irons, too."
"Works for me," I said, saluting him with my mug. "You want a beer while you're here?"
"I appreciate it, Your Worship, but maybe next time. I need to find where I'm bunking down for the next couple of days."
"Fair enough," I replied. "I'll talk with our ambassador and see what kind of paperwork we'll need. Meanwhile, before you leave, I'll set up a meeting with Sister Nightingale, and she can take a look at your references. Not that I don't believe you…"
"But you'd rather your spymaster have a look at who we've been working for. Makes sense to me. It was a pleasure talking with you, Your Worship, and I look forward to seeing you on the Storm Coast."
With that he left, and Sera took a seat right next to me at the table.
"Phwoar, you're scary, you know that?" she said.
"You think?"
"Yeah, I think. You go from running a bit of lyrium with three other knobs to being the head bitch in charge of this place."
"I ran the whole city, and I'm not in charge here," I protested. "I just do what they tell me, mostly."
"Right," she replied. "And that's why all of these people come looking for you, because you're nobody."
I started to protest before she cut me off.
"We all know why the Denerim market ran so well. The others told me about some of the shite you'd pull in the field - Taedor would go on about that time you -"
"He had a bit of a hero thing with me," I said.
"Exactly, you daft tit. And now all these knobs have a bit of a hero thing with you."
I looked around. The pub was crowded, all of the other tables were full, there were people standing, but Sera and I were the only ones at our table. When I stood up to get a closer look, the noise in the pub quieted, and not a few expectant eyes looked our way.
"Er, we have some empty seats over here if any of you want to sit down," I said, regretting it nearly immediately when I was forced to make awkward small talk with four shems who wanted my opinion on the trebuchet they were building. They looked a bit sad when I told them that we didn't have much use for siege equipment in the Alienage, and I almost took pity on them and made something up, until one of them asked me to describe Alienage life to him.
I stayed quiet for a bit too long, I guess, and they started to look uncomfortable. "Where are you boys from?" I asked, breaking the silence.
"We're all from Highever, Your Worship," one of them replied. " It's how we all know each other. Signed up together an' everything."
"You still have folks there?"
"Aye, Your Worship," the same one replied. "All our families are there."
"Would you bring them here, if you could?" I asked, and the fellow who had been doing all the talking got quiet all of a sudden.
"Begging your pardon," a different one replied, "but it's a bit nicer back home, you know. Gets right drafty in those tents at night up here in the mountains."
"You know what the only condition I made on the Inquisition was when I agreed to work with them?" I asked, my voice raising significantly. "I said I would not lift even one finger unless my parents got to live here with me. That's how good the Denerim alienage is, and from everything I've heard, the Highever one makes mine look like a resort. Life in the alienage is dirty, it smells bad, everything costs twice as much because there's only one store, and you thank the Maker every day that you're not Orlesian, because at least in Ferelden you only have to deal with obnoxious guardsmen threatening to bring charges against you if you don't sleep with them, not Chevaliers making their final test by hunting and killing you."
"Maker… Your worship, I -"
"No, I don't suppose you did. Write your folks and ask them to see how we're doing in Highever. In fact, tell them the Herald of Andraste specifically asked them to, because she's concerned about her people in Highever."
They looked collectively chastened, so I stopped, and we sat in silence finishing our beers until the quiet one of the group piped up.
"If the Herald of Andraste, who was a friend to the elves Herself, asks us to look after her people in our city, then I will do just that. Our Lady sent an elf as Her herald to shame us for how we've mistreated the Maker's children, and Highever will do its part to putting that to rights. Thank you, Your Worship," he continued, standing up. "Come on, lads, let's let the Herald finish her drink in peace."
Sera let out a low whistle as they were walking out the pub door.
"See what I mean?" she asked. "Scary."
She sat there a while with a cheeky I-told-you-so grin while I ordered us another round.
"If you start comparing me to Kallian, I swear…"
"I don't know Kallian. But I never heard folks getting all religious-like like that talking about her, neither. Nah, you're something else entirely, Nessa Ghilani," Sera said, punctuating her sentence with a wink. I rolled my eyes, and she laughed.
"There's our big friggin hero, folks, getting all flustered when a girl winks at her."
"Sera!"
I lunged for her, but she ran out the door giggling.
The meeting with Leliana and Aclassi took place two days later in Josephine's office in the Chantry. Aclassi was polite and efficient, almost to a fault. He and Josephine spoke of the various nobles that the Bull's Chargers had worked for, while Leliana took notes and I tried to keep up. Josephine had just had the second round of tea poured for us when a young shem burst into the room.
"Beg pardon, folks. Nightingale, this just came in, my lady. Black ribbon, marked for your eyes only."
Leliana took a small scroll from his hand, asked the shem (whose name was Pellane) to bring her a quill and some paper, and asked Aclassi to leave the room, which he did graciously. Josephine, Pellane and I looked intently as the look on her face became more and more worried as she decoded the message.
"This is not good," she finally said. "The note is from Rector, one of my scouts in the field."
"We've met," I said, growing more nervous by the moment. Scout Pellane looked as though he was moments from a breakdown.
"It says: 'Lieutenant Harding led a small complement of soldiers to the Storm Coast region to investigate reports of Grey Warden activity. She sent word that her party had established a camp near the shore, but we have received nothing further. At this time, the status of Harding and her mission remains unknown.' Pellane, please breathe. If Charter were missing, Rector would have said. Your Worship…"
"Yeah, I'm not breathing until I find them," I replied.
"Herald, I know that Lace is-"
"It's not about Lace, Leliana," I said, my voice more raised than I'd've liked. "Those are our people out there, and I'm not asking for your permission. Redcliffe can wait. Scout Pellane? Please find Sera, Seeker Pentaghast, and Enchanter Vivienne and have them meet me at the Chantry doors in an hour, and tell Aclassi that we're leaving early."
Pellane looked over at Leliana nervously, until she gave him a nod of permission and he ran off like he stole something.
"Leliana, can you have your investigations done in four days, and a message sent to us in the field?"
"They're done already, Your Worship," she replied. "Josephine was familiar with all of the names Aclassi gave us."
"Fine, then I'll give them a once-over when I get there, and if I like them, I'll send them back here."
"Your Worship, are you sure you'll know how to evaluate them?" Josephine asked.
"Josephine, I ran lyrium shipments in and out of Denerim for five years; I think I know how to judge a merc band."
"Yes, well, that does answer a few questions I had had about your past."
I gave her a smile - I really hadn't meant to snap at her like that.
"Thank you. Meanwhile, I'll let Commander Cullen know that he can stand his men down, and ask him to have someone set us up for the road. We'll leave at dawn."
*Note: The message about Harding on the Storm Coast is taken nearly verbatim from the game, which belongs to EA and Bioware.
