Hie Back To Denerim
It turned out next to impossible to sneak around the Tower of Ishal. For some reason, Eamon had an inordinate number of guards at all the entrances. It set off all kinds of alarm bells. Why did he commandeer the only tower on the site? Was it only to entice Cailan to stay with him? Why did he still have so many guards around it? The Wardens and the Ferelden army patrolled the entire area already. Elle didn't see any Redcliffe guards helping with those patrols.
However, Elle's typical luck in such things held firm and she came across Grelan, one of Eamon's elven servants. He was out and about running errands when she pulled him aside. He was one of those kinds of spies who could blend in anywhere. He could even cover his pointed ears with his long hair if he needed to look like a human. He was also a cousin to the mother of one of Elle's best informants in Denerim and had recently been recruited to aid Mistress Andrasal, the head chef of Redcliffe kitchens ... and one of Elle's spies in Redcliffe Castle. Almost everyone hated Isolde, so there were many who felt no guilt in reporting the activities in the castle.
As for Ostagar, Grelan hadn't heard anything untoward as of yet, but said the tone of conversations around the Arl were mostly heated and contentious. Teagan was not happy with his brother at the moment, for some reason.
Grelan thought it might have something to do with Isolde's all-too-regular correspondence with Celene and her spymaster. It all but confirmed Isolde's involvement with Erlina in Denerim. However, Grelan had no concrete evidence and, sadly, the word of an elven servant still would not be good enough for the Landsmeet. He said he would try harder to get his hands on one of her letters to the Empress or this Briala. Elle encouraged him to be very careful. There would be little anyone could do to save Grelan if he were caught.
Elle slipped into the shadows and headed back across the bridge to the larger encampment. She liked Teagan, but he was too loyal to his brother for Elle's tastes. However, if he were on the outs with Eamon, maybe it might be useful to talk to Teagan at some point about what was going on with Isolde. Elle put that task on her list of "things to do after the Blight". After all, if the Blight took Ferelden, nothing else really mattered in the long scheme of things.
Next, she set about making "friends" around the camp. The first friend was the Royal Kennel master who told her of a flower in the wilds, when ground with certain other herbs and powders, gave the mabari a degree of protection from the Blight. Since some scouts had just gotten him a supply of the flower, he graciously gave Elle a goodly supply of the ointment for Midnight. He also shared the recipe and a handful of seeds he'd separated from some of the flowers he had dried. A very good friend to have, indeed!
The current gossip was pretty much typical for a camp full of soldiers: who won the most coin at gambling, who was the best in bed, who had the favor of this or that noble woman. Elle chuckled when she overheard one conversation about plans for the conquest of herself. Silly boys.
Cauthrien caught up to her with the details of their morning departure just as Duncan walked down a ramp, signaling that he'd like to speak to her. "I just heard that you're going to Denerim. Is everything all right?"
She took him aside and explained about the Queen and Loghain's orders for Elle to accompany the King back to Denerim. It made Duncan chuckle. "So, if I am to conscript you, I should do it soon, eh?"
"About that, Duncan …" She could tell he knew what she was about to say, but said it anyway. "I really do think I would be much more valuable to you, independent of …"
He raised his hand to stop her and smiled. "Loghain's already cornered me and 'suggested' that I leave you be … for now ... and, I will."
"As I said before, that may change in future." She grinned and noticed the tall, handsome man walking up behind Duncan.
Duncan turned. "Lady Cousland, may I introduce you to Warden Alistair."
The man actually blushed. Bemused, Elle's first thought was that the pink hue of his blush clashed with his blondish-redish hair and amber eyes. How charming was it that just meeting her made him blush, though! "So nice to meet you, Warden Alistair. Please just call me Elle when we're all dressing to roll around in a fight to the death."
That made Alistair laugh. That's when she noticed it. Would she have noticed if Loghain and Cailan hadn't already dropped hints? Maybe not. Probably not. But, they did. There was a reason Cailan was concerned about Alistair. This man had the blood of Calenhad in him ... and Maric's nose and eyes. No doubt. A bastard of Maric. A bloody handsome and charming bastard of Maric. About twenty or so years old? Born around the time of Maric's walkabout with the wardens? Did Alistair have a warden mother? Not subjects for extended investigation at that moment, but definitely avenues of thought for the future!
What a gloriously charmed life I lead to have these surprises fall around me like raindrops of sugar candy! she thought to herself.
Alistair bowed. "Very honored to make your acquaintance, my lady. Anders and Rance have hardly stopped talking about your adventure to get here."
"Oh, good. Thank the Maker I don't have to tell that one again." Elle laughed. "You know, I should befriend a storyteller to follow me around. Whenever I meet someone who needs to be filled in, I could just point to her … or him." Leliana came to mind, but Elle had a feeling that her bard friend had other priorities that would take precedence.
"I've heard bad things can come of storyteller renditions, Elle." Alistair smiled again and met her eyes ... for a long moment. Long enough for Elle to catch his interest in her ... and give the tiniest nudge to her own interest of him. Then, he cleared his throat. "Anders and Rance are … um … I sent them to the warden mess."
Elle's smile went from ear to ear! She moved closer to them and said quietly, "Then, they made it?! That's wonderful news!"
Alistair looked with surprise to Duncan who only chuckled. "Secrets have no chance around Lady Elle Cousland, Alistair. By virtue of traveling with me and my nightmares and two very intelligent and inquisitive mages, she is now privy to most of them."
"Only most?" Elle crossed her arms and asked with a coy lilt to her voice. "Oh dear, I've been remiss." At the two wardens' amused looks, Elle took her leave. She checked that her horse would be readied with the king's retinue in the morning, rearranged and repacked her saddlebags, and then settled down to a few hours sleep with Midnight before she left for Denerim.
...
The two and a half week trip to Denerim was as fast as possible. Cailan sent runners ahead to any nobles along the way that protocol was rescinded due to an emergency with the Queen. That advance notice brought people to the road in Lothering and other villages along the way. They all shouted words of support and prayers to the Maker that the Queen was all right. No matter what the nobles bitched and moaned about, the commoners loved their King and Queen.
Two days out from Denerim, Elle found herself in the company of Wynne ... not that she had been avoiding Wynne. However, the days had been spent quickly riding along the southern roads and the nights were spent in exhausted sleep. This night, the cook had prepared a special dessert made from dough, butter and lots of spiced sugar — one of Cailan's favorites. Elle walked over with two in her hands. "Senior Enchanter," Elle said as she sat on a log next to the older mage and handed her one of the decadent sweet rolls, "it was very kind of you to agree to come along to see to the health of the Queen."
Wynne smiled. "Well, I wouldn't be very much of a healer if I'd refused." The woman shook her head. "The King shared the note with me about the situation. I was astounded to read that Orlais was trying to interfere in Ferelden ... again. I really wish they'd leave their hands off our country."
Elle sat back. "Are you Fereldan?"
Wynne chuckled and replied, "I suppose I've lost most of my accent over the years, but, yes, I was born in Ferelden."
"What part, if you would allow me to be so nosy?" Elle asked.
"Actually, I was orphaned at a very young age and was taken in by the matron of a farmhold, Langwynne ... it's where my name came from."
"I know of Langwynne. It was once a very prosperous holding, but once the latest matron passed to the Maker's Side, it has seen quite poor times, I'm afraid." Elle hesitated. She didn't want to pry too much.
Interestingly, Wynne changed the subject. "Duncan told me that you knew Leorah when she was in the Mage Collective."
"I did! She was a good healer to have around Highever. Fixed my broken leg and a few other minor injuries and illnesses for both me and my brother, Fergus ... before the Highever Chantry got wind of her." Elle frowned.
Curiously, Wynne frowned, too. "She's one of my good friends at the Circle. Leorah was one of those mages who learned from an apostate who had successfully escaped the Circle. Her teacher, Myra, was First Enchanter in Cumberland for a while until an unhinged Templar tried to assault her. Myra's mother was very ill and the local Revered Mother wouldn't allow Myra to leave the Circle to attend to her mother. The Templar helped Lorna escape, and then tracked her down. Long story, short ... Lorna overcame the Templar and destroyed any way to track her in the future."
"Dear Maker, I'd never heard that story," Elle whispered and then hesitated again after starting to ask a question and then stopping.
"You want to know how I ended up at the Circle," Wynne said with a small smile. "A bully caused my dormant magic abilities to surface and I was taken away by the Templars ... however, I was never mistreated there and loved the Circle much more than the farm."
"I must say that it is good to hear that," Elle finished her sweet roll and gave the last bite to Midnight. "As you just shared with me about Leorah's mentor, we hear the other side of the spectrum more frequently. I suspect it is not too dissimilar from non-mage life. Good things and bad things happen."
"Duncan told me you were a perceptive one, young lady." Wynne laughed. "I know that probably caused the man all sorts of irritation."
Elle winked. "An occasion or two in the short time I've known him."
"I've known Duncan for about twenty years," she replied, wistfully. "He was a young man when I first met him. A new Grey Warden. There was a ... situation ... at the Circle. A nasty one. He arrived with the Orlesian Grey Wardens and King Maric and left on some secret mission. He returned with only Maric and Warden Fiona. I don't know many of the details of what happened in between, but it ended with our First Enchanter Remille being controlled by a powerful darkspawn named the Architect. Although, Remille had his own reasons to involve Maric … namely to kidnap our king and give him to Orlais. Remille had to be killed and the darkspawn got away." Wynne shook her head. "It made us very wary after that. Fortunately, Irving took over and we were able to get back to normal Circle insanity once again."
"Only Maric and Wardens Fiona and Duncan?" Elle asked. Her curiosity about Alistair was eating her up, but she stopped with only that question.
Wynne chuckled. "I know why you're asking. Loghain mentioned that you'd probably figure it out." Elle just raised her eyebrows in a 'well then what's the answer' manner. "I cannot divulge any more than that, my dear. You'll understand why someday, I'm sure." When all Elle did was look very disappointed, Wynne patted Elle's knee and got up. As she turned to go to her tent, she said, "It's been a long day. Sleep well."
So, Elle had noticed that Alistair looked like Maric ... and now she had the name of the only female to return with them from that disastrous journey into the Deep Roads. She put finding out about Warden Fiona on her list of questions to find an answer to. But, she was also tired, so she slipped off to her bedroll with Midnight curled at her feet.
Elle wished she'd put money down on a bet that Eamon would show to join up with Cailan, because he did … one day out from Denerim. Loghain had been spot on. Cailan had been pressing everyone to exhaustion and the Redcliffe group only caught up as camp was being set that last evening. She hoped to blend into the background, but soon was called into conference with Cailan and Eamon.
Fortunately ... or, unfortunately for Eamon ... another piece of news had been placed into her hands not minutes before. The Lothering Revered Mother received a message about Redcliffe that needed to be forwarded quickly to the King and Queen. Leliana made sure that Elle got a copy.
"Surely, Lady Cousland, your source about this Orlesian maid must be mistaken!" Eamon railed.
She told her story … and it was mostly accurate. "My 'source', Your Lordship, was a Chantry initiate who came upon a dead messenger. The initiate read the man's messages to try to ascertain to whom to hand them off when she read that one." She nodded to the now horribly wrinkled copy of the note in Eamon's hands. "The message bag was delivered to the Chantry while I was there paying my respects. The poor initiate was distraught and handed me the note since she had heard I was a noble and might know something about it all. I read it and told the Revered Mother and Ser Bryant its contents. The Knight-Commander was already going to Denerim, so he took on the responsibility of delivering it to Her Majesty. The other papers indicated the messenger was on his way to Redcliffe Castle. That message had been bundled with other messages for the Castle." Elle was curious how Eamon would react.
Eamon opened his mouth to say more, then seemed to be collecting himself … making decisions. Elle didn't trust him. Never had. The man who had been completely out of his mind only a few minutes ago, suddenly calmed down. No doubt finding another to lay this revelation upon. Maybe. Elle had to admit that her own feelings toward the man were likely coloring her thinking.
Eamon simply ran his hand through his hair and sat in a nearby chair. Hard. "Maker's Breath, Isolde. What have you done?"
Elle donned her most sympathetic face and kneeled by Eamon. This would be a good test of her subterfuge. "Your Lordship, do you think the Arlessa has been coerced to aid Orlais somehow?"
He sighed. "I don't know, Lady Cousland."
She took a deep breath and her concern deepened. "Then, you may not know about this either." She handed him the copy of the message from Ser Harrith to the Lothering Chantry. "Since I had been involved with the other business, the Revered Mother sent this along as well. It only reached my hand a few minutes ago. It could be the reason for Isolde's cooperation if the Empress has heard about it." She put it in his hand, but closed her hand over it for a moment. "If there is anything I can do, Your Lordship."
Both Eamon and Cailan looked apprehensive. Eamon opened the note and read it. The color drained from his face. "No. No. No. No." Elle was surprised. She could easily tell that he wasn't acting. Eamon truly did not know.
The note dropped out of Eamon's hand and Cailan snatched it up. He read the note. "Maker's Breath! Connor is a mage!?" He stalked to the tent flap and opened it. "Find Senior Enchanter Wynne." Within a few minutes, Wynne arrived looking apprehensive herself.
Cailan handed Wynne the note. "Could Ser Harrith be mistaken about this, Senior Enchanter?"
Wynne read the note. "Oh dear." Then, she turned toward Cailan. "I very much doubt that. It says after a Chantry service, the boy froze a man who was attempting to steal from the Chantry. While a noble act, it was still magic ... in front of witnesses. He will need to go to the Circle to learn to control his magic."
Cailan sighed. "Poor Connor."
Wynne jutted out her chin and stood straight. "Your Majesty, Your Lordship, Lady Cousland … I do realize that this means the Arling of Redcliffe has lost an heir. However, I assure you that the Ferelden Circle is no death sentence to be feared akin to a deadly disease. Magic is not a curse. It is a gift from the Maker. The fact that the young man acted in defense of the Chantry speaks well of his upbringing. I also know Ser Harrith and I know he will be kind to the boy … as will everyone at the Chantry in Redcliffe village."
Eamon blinked several times. "Thank you, Senior Enchanter. I do feel a bit better." Again, he pulled his fingers through his hair. Elle made a mental note that it could be his tell prior to lying. She would need to get him into a game of Wicked Grace. "I hope Isolde didn't cause too much of a scene."
Cailan barked a snide laugh. "That is a vain hope, Uncle, and you know it."
Yep, the hand through his hair was a definite tell for Eamon. Maybe verbal jousting with Eamon could be fun, after all. However, this day, she renewed a concerned look on her face. "It is something that is out of our hands at this particular moment, Your Lordship." Elle noticed that Wynne was about to say something. She just smiled, so it was likely the same thing. "Please try to get some rest, Arl Eamon."
Eamon stood and sighed. "I need to get word to Teagan at Ostagar and return to Redcliffe. There is still light, so the Redcliffe contingent shall be leaving immediately. I bid you all farewell now. Good evening." He gave a small bow and left. They could all see him walk away, shoulders slumped. He was good.
Cailan narrowed his eyes at the departing back. "Elle, Eamon doesn't take bad surprises that well. You were just the messenger of some very bad news. I worry about you. Eamon has strong 'friends' and some of them are not nice people. Loghain has warned me for years to do something about my uncle, but I've been dragging my feet ... in honor of my mother, I guess. He might just have someone try to kill you, you know. Try to blame it on a forger tying up loose ends. It would convincingly get rid of a reliable witness and discredit the evidence at the same time." Elle found that surprisingly insightful of Ferelden's silly king.
"Maker's Breath! Is that true?" Wynne looked in horror at Elle. "You will stay with me this evening. The Templars will not allow any harm to come to you."
Elle was touched. Truly touched. "I … I'm speechless. Thank you both."
Cailan also put a couple of his guards on Wynne's tent. Even with all that, an attack was attempted and a Templar died protecting her and Wynne. Elle knew that there were bad Templars around, but like with any group of armed soldiers, some were honorable and some were ruthless … only in it for the power. Ser Alson was a brave man who gave his life to protect others. She would see to his honor some day.
However, the assassin was Orlesian. She killed herself before any information could be revealed. It could have been Eamon, but more likely it was someone from Denerim, paid to watch Erlina. Paid to silence the person suspected of sending the warning to Anora, lest any other information get out. Elle hoped Ser Bryant was all right.
But — like she told Eamon — nothing could be done about it at that moment.
Once the camp settled down, everyone had to try to get back to sleep for those few precious hours before dawn. Elle's final thought as she closed her eyes was, "Ach, Denerim again tomorrow. Bloody Denerim again."
...
AN: And, so … just how much will Elle allow her curiosity to get the better of her in regards to Alistair? Such a mystery! How can she possibly resist? ;)
fullmetal1985, wow! Thank you so much for your very kind words! They do make me wish to continue … like Elle would let me stop. This tale will at least go through Origins, I promise. :) (Yes, I know I've hinted at Inquisition. hehe)
The Invisible Pretender, Now, now, Elle did mention that Loghain was on her vaunted preferred list of men "who had made their way in life". Alas, with Loghain there is one major impediment … Anora would NEVER condone it! The only way she'd call Elle "Mama" would be through the bars in Fort Drakon. Thank you for your review. I hope you continue to enjoy the tale. :)
