Honestly I like this chapter mostly for Aria and Sten's conversation. I love the idea of their friendship.
Chapter 24: There is no Choice
Sleep came fleetingly until it was time to wake and pack up for the time-sensitive trip to the Circle. Aria felt dead on her feet as she ran her fingers over the smooth, wrinkled ridges of the burn scar that encompassed her shoulder and length of her arm. It still irritated her when the skin was stretched too taught, or when rough fabric rubbed up against it. But she wanted to save what gauze they had left for new injuries. She felt it was time to suck it up and try and get used to her cotton tunic touching her arm again. With the loss of the extra layer between her skin and her clothes, she was also hoping for more maneuverability.
Leliana eyed her arm curiously as the elf adjusted her brassiere's leather strap over her shoulder in an attempt at more comfort. She gave up shortly afterward with a huff before pulling her tunic over her head and standing to tuck it into her trousers.
"Where did you get such a gruesome scar?" The redhead inquired. Aria looked over at her with a wary expression.
"The Wilds." She gave after a moment's contemplation, hoping she could get by with little prodding. Leliana had other plans though.
"Oh, it must have been dreadfully painful, how in the world could you have gotten it? Was it while on your way from Morrigans? She mentioned she joined you before Lotherinng."
Aria made a disgruntled noise at the rogue, moving on to tie up the front of her leather vest. Morrigan was unhelpfully minding her own business as she buckled her boots up.
"No, it was before, while I was at Ostagar to prepare for joining the Grey Wardens."
Leliana made a displeased noise of her own.
"They scared you as a preparation? Oh, how utterly rude, to give such a pretty thing like you a scar like that. What were the Wardens thinking?"
Aria furrowed her brows, unsure what she was going on about. But unsure how to get her point across the elf woman grabbed her boots and her bag and escaped through the door, not wanting to talk about what she looks like.
"I'm going to see how Bodahn and Sandal are doing." She mumbled.
The rogue blinked at the door left open in the mage's rush to leave them.
"Did I say something wrong?" she pondered.
Morrigan rolled her eyes.
"If you have to ask then perhaps think about what and how you speak to the girl first."
"But, you are always so very blunt with her and she replies to you."
"I do not pry into what isn't my business is the difference." The witch sniffed in annoyance before she too walked out.
"I do not understand. You look like a woman."
It was well into the morning now and the caravan consisting of an elf, a witch, two warriors, a rogue, and intelligent dog, and a couple of dwarven merchants have been on the road to Lake Callenhad's Circle of Magi port. The talk had been sparse, all people still exhausted from little sleep the previous nights prior. And Aria was content with the silence. Even if it left her dealing with a giant, sallow-skinned man burning a hole in her skull as he stared at her with a look she couldn't quite decipher all the times she bothered to look back at him in consternation.
So when he did finally grace their group as they trudged along the edge of the lake with his deep voice the entire party jolted out of their collective daydreams.
Aria herself made a confused expression to match the one Sten was giving her as they stopped in their tracks for this sudden stare down of furrowed brows and pursed lips.
"Yes…" she drew out the word, unsure where this was going. "What's not to understand about that?" she asked.
Sten didn't bother to talk much to them beyond a grunt or blunt comment most times. He was a strange man in a country with, from what Aria was able to glean from his rare comments, much laxer traditions than Par Vollen. So to see him start a line of questioning such as this was disconcerting, to say the least. The mage could honestly appreciate his direct nature and a keen interest in the mabari that was with them.
But for this to be the topic of his direct questioning?
Should…Should she not look like a woman? Last time Aria checked she was still very much of the feminine persuasion.
Alistair looked like he was about to say something when Leliana shushed him in her bid for wanting to see where this rabbit hole was leading to.
"You are a Grey Warden." He spoke plainly. "So it follows that you can't be a woman."
Aria, still wholly unsure what he was insinuating opened her mouth to say something. But with nothing to say ended up closing it to think of an answer to his foreign train of thought. Nothing, however, came to mind and thus she settled on voicing blunt confusion in the hopes he would enlighten her on his train of thought.
"That doesn't make any sense Sten."
"So you understand my confusion, then." He nodded down at her as if in agreement to their mutual confusion.
And confused she was. However, perhaps not by the same thing as both she and the white-haired man seemed to be on completely different levels and topics of confusion.
"Well if I wasn't confused before, I certainly am now." Pinching the bridge of her nose, the elf gathered her wits about her before asking a much-needed question.
"Please explain to me your train of thought Sten. I do not think we are of the same understanding and I may be missing something considering I have no idea why my gender is of concern to you."
Sten seemed to contemplate this as his scowl deepened. Unsure if he was annoyed or if it was just his face in its natural state Aria let it be as he gathered his words before explaining to her as they started up their walking pace again. If a bit slower so they could continue their discussion and she could keep up with him with her much shorter legs.
"Women are priests, artisans, shopkeepers, or farmers. They do not fight."
"Ah," Aria straightened up as she blinked up with understanding now. "I assume this is how it is where you come from, Par Vollen, was it?" She inquired. Sten eyed her before assenting with a single nod of his head.
"Seheron." He corrected.
"Oh, thank you, I could not remember which. I don't know much about your kind, Sten." Realizing she was going off on a tangent though, the young woman waved her hand as if to clear the air. "However, to continue on the topic at hand, the roles you have for women are not a universal truth, some women fight."
"Why would women ever wish to be men? That makes no sense."
A look of utter bafflement crossed her face.
"Um…If I'm following you right, you do not believe I am a woman, because women do not fight. Therefore, women who fight wish to be men?" She laid it out and looked up at him to see if this was exactly where his train of thought was going. Again, the man nodded agreeably.
"Exactly."
"None of that makes any sense to me." Aria pointed out weakly.
"A person is born: qunari, human, elven, or dwarf. He doesn't choose. The size of his hands, whether they are clever or foolish, the land he comes from, the color of his hair. We do not get to choose, we simply are." He explained.
Aria hummed before giving it another long thought.
"You are excluding the addition of cultural environment a person is born into." She spoke slowly as she tried to word what she wanted to say correctly.
"I assume where you come from, and in your culture, women were not permitted to fight…That they are…uh, born to different roles than men?" she ended with a question. Sten motioned for her to continue with an affirmative nod and grunt.
"It is…different, in Ferelden. Our uh, culture and beliefs do not tie down a person in such a way that you cannot choose or work towards a role you want for yourself. Even in the noble houses, from what I picked up from lessons in the Circle. First born children are not necessarily the only ones with the right to carry on the family name. And one does not have to be a man either. Historically, in Fereldan, the child to show the most promise and skill is chosen to lead, regardless of when they were born. So culturally, we see it as not…unusual to see a woman take up arms if she so wishes. It does not mean she wants to be a man, but a woman who fights."
"Can one truly work towards a role they want if they are destined to stay in the role they already serve?" He challenged.
"You are Saarabas. A..mage, as it is called here. You are prosecuted and locked away much like in my country. You were born into the role of someone who must be watched and locked away to keep you from hurting others. You did not 'work for' this role as you have said."
"True, however after being conscripted into the Grey Wardens I have been given the freedom to leave imprisonment—"
"And you are now in the role of stopping the Blight, a path which by my understanding, you did not choose for yourself, but followed the path given to you by the witch's mother and your last remaining comrade of the same organization. Tell me, have you been able to choose what you want to do since changing roles?"
Aria stared blankly up at the giant of a man. Her footsteps came to a stuttering stop as her mind equally stopped to take in where this conversation was going. And damned it all…
What choices had she really made for herself in the long run?
That cold water feeling dripped down her spin and again, she felt the weight of every direction she had been pushed into and pulled towards and she didn't know how to respond. Aria lowered her eyes in defeat as she felt Sten watch her closely.
"I think…" she sighed deeply, admitting defeat. To what she wasn't sure, but this conversation was taking a turn she didn't know how to answer and thus decided it was best to give up before her head began to pound.
"I think we should stop talking about this."
"As you wish." Sten relented courteously.
The journey continued, the Circle Tower visible on the lake even from how far onshore the group was located. It was a dark, distant reminder that no, Aria hadn't made a solid choice for herself since she helped Jowan one last time before her entire world went to shit.