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13 Cloudsreach 9:41 Dragon
Caer Bronach
Healed and bathed, I sit here eating a modest breakfast prepared by a gentle soul of a man named Bron. He's got to be near 60, but he wanted to join the Inquisition and help in any way that he could. Poor man lost his wife and daughter during the blight ten years ago and signed up with us when Harding brought the first soldiers a month ago. This man is as hardworking as they come, perhaps even more so than some of the younger recruits. He doesn't even mind being assigned as a cook!
As I spoke with him today while he prepared my meal. He gazed my way and this look filled his eyes, almost akin to admiration. A thought crossed my mind, and it's becoming clearer to me now that the Inquisition is more than just a name; we're inspiring hope.
Maker help me, I felt like such a hypocrite. I stood there trying to look proudly at this man's expression, when on the inside I felt burdened by the weight of his opinion.
Am I to be admired? I feign this awesome confidence on the outside, but inside I'm having doubts just like any normal person.
I can almost hear Leliana now: "That's because you are a normal person, silly. With a green glowing hand that closes fade rifts, of course."
I miss my friend and our time together. I just haven't the heart to write out another letter to her right now, knowing it won't reach her before my other missives get there. I'm also just too anxious for more help to come. I'm breaking my promise to myself… this cursed place is sapping my will.
Varric's words hit me like an ice-bolt to the face. I'm glad he has confidence in my leadership and abilities, but I'm hurt that he thinks me so cold and pragmatic. I had reasons beyond their skills for bringing Cassandra, Solas, and Varric with me.
We work well together, and I'm comfortable with them… and…
Oh dear… he is right.
I need to start treating my companions as friends and start seeing them as more than just pieces in the grand game. I mean, I've already opened up to Alistair and I feel happier. Imagine the difference if I opened up to each of them. It's time to make friends… again.
Back to business I suppose. We have more things to do around the fortress to make it ready for occupation and with so few, though dedicated and hardworking, the next days will be busy.
...
"There you are." Full from breakfast, Gwen walked around a bend in the battlements and spotted the man responsible for bringing in the eight recruits from the Crestwood camps. He was leaning over the stone wall and turned abruptly as she called out to him.
"How are you feeling?" She asked him plainly, coming to stand a few feet from him. She too looked out on the courtyard below where a few soldiers talked quietly while eating their morning meal.
"Tired and sore." He responded curtly.
Gwen drummed her fingers on the wall. There was an uncomfortable feeling in the air around Hawke. "Then you should rest. I just wanted to find you to thank you for your part, yesterday and today."
He gave her a quick, half-smile and turned again from her to look out to the courtyard below. "I only did what needed to be done."
"Is... everything alright? You seem upset. "
Hawke gave her a sardonic response. "What would ever give you that idea?"
"Did I do something to upset you?"
"Yes," he answered with brutal truth.
Raising her eyebrows, she continued, "Alright, let's clear the air then: tell me what is bothering you."
He leaned on the rail with his arms crossed and looked over to her. "If I said no, would you walk away and leave me alone?"
"Oh, probably not." She gave her best apologetic smile. "I know we barely know one another, but I'm trying to make an effort here. We both have common allies and enemies, so it makes sense that we too should maintain the semblance of an accord, right?"
"You have a point." Hawke mollified her, though his voice was still icy.
Gwen lifted her hands up and shrugged her shoulders. "It doesn't have to be a long drawn out thing where, by the end of the conversation we're crying into one another's arms. Maker, no."
She laughed like a bumbling fool and caught him jeering at her menacingly, though he stood almost completely still. His actions or lack thereof were making her nervous. She'd never been alone with him before and she noticed for the first time that his presence was domineering. His bright blue eyes drilled into hers. Without the buffer of another person, he was downright intimidating.
Quickly, she recovered and kept her pace. "But we should talk before what's bothering you escalates."
She eagerly awaited his reply, but he took his time, considering his words before finally speaking.
Hawke began quietly. "Alistair and I... are friends, and I don't have many left since... Kirkwall. He's a good man. When we began investigating Corypheus, we spent months making plans, researching, traveling together and in one day, you changed his mind and recruited him into the damned Inquisition."
Gwen just listened, slightly taken aback by his words, wondering why he hadn't brought this up earlier.
"He's lost sight of our own purposes to help the Wardens, find Corypheus and kill him... again." He looked away.
Gwen shook her head in confusion, using her Inquisitor voice to respond. "Our combined goal is to defeat Corypheus. We're both aligned to the same goal. It's absurd not to join our efforts."
She looked over to him and his brows twisted, not with anger, but with sudden grief. Gwen was dumbfounded.
"He almost died, Inquisitor." He finished the words in a biting tone.
Guilt sprang to her chest and tightened it. Her next words were spoken carefully. "You care about him."
The man refused to answer, and kept staring out over the keep.
"I'm sorry I never asked for your advice before and even more sorry that you were dragged into this without consent, but these are desperate times. The Inquisition needs all the good help it can get," she explained.
Hawke neither moved nor spoke.
"You don't think I feel awful about what happened to him?" Gwen's eyes were sullen and she was desperate for some response from the sober man.
"What else will you drag him into, what other sacrifices will he have to make for you and your Inquisition?" He responded sharply and turned toward her finally.
"I'm sorry, but I maintain that we need the two of you, even more so than before." Gwen still spoke with softness in her voice. "You're not going to leave us, are you?"
His voice was tired and pithy. "What choice do I have? I won't leave him here alone."
"I promise that we'll take no unnecessary risks with the two of you. You two saved our lives yesterday and it's a debt I intend to repay someday."
Gwen's eyes looked over to him expecting a response, but several minutes of uncomfortable silence went by again, with nothing from him. He stared out over the courtyard deep in thought, a dour expression on his face.
Instead of a verbal response, he started walking down the battlement away from her with eyes to the ground. He stopped as he passed her and ran his hands through his wild, dark hair and growled. "This isn't easy for me. I don't do well following anyone else's orders! I'm a loner or a leader."
"And when you're with Alistair?"
"With him it's … different."
Gwen squinted her eyes, finding contradiction in his explanation.
Hawke looked up to find Gwen staring at him and he sighed roughly, "I hate this, and I promise nothing, but I'll try to be civil."
Gwen nodded slowly as he turned and kept walking briskly away.
.
A loud whistle resounded off the stone walls and brought everyone on the main level to attention. Cassandra nodded to her leader after finishing her call. Gwen hopped down the stairs and stood in the middle of the large open ward where everyone had been asked to assemble after breakfast. She called the people to gather and listen. Time to be Inquisitor again.
When everyone stood within earshot, she began. "Good morning everyone. I know we've barely had time to rest, but we're on a tight schedule and we need to prepare for the arrival of more Inquisition soldiers. Cassandra, how many would the Commander send?"
Cassandra was at Gwen's side post haste. "To hold Caer Bronach easily? Perhaps two troops, roughly 60 soldiers. But I can't be certain."
The Inquisitor pulled out her notebook, readying her quill and ink on a nearby table.
In a bellow, she called out orders.
"So, we'll prepare for 80 more soldiers. We need to keep a constant watch: I'll get the details and a schedule up as soon as possible. Every room and hall needs to be cleaned. Bodies need to be burned. Resources collected and inventoried. Any damages to the keep should be noted for repair. I also want the lake drained, in fact, that should be the first order of business." She wrote as she spoke, nodding at her Seeker regarding the lake.
"Break into groups of two and come to me for your assignments. Thank you." Gwen moved to the table, taking a seat behind it as the first group of two came to her.
From across the ward, Alistair walked toward where she sat under a canopy at the small wooden table. It was neatly organized with her quill, ink and parchment. A few notebooks and a mug. A pair of soldiers were standing in front of him and Gwen had assigned them to clean the remaining towers of debris. When the pair walked away, the Inquisitor's eyes met the Warden's.
"I want to help."
"Where is your partner?" She spoke professionally.
He smirked. "Where's yours?"
Gwen tilted her head at him and looked him over in appraisal. He was clean and dressed in a simple dark blue cotton shirt, his grey leather trousers, and boots. He still had battle bruises and cuts but he looked one hundred times better than he did just a few hours' prior: the wonders of a hot bath.
Her elbows were placed on the table and her hands rested neatly under her chin. "You should rest. I need you at your best in the days to come." Removing her elbows, she took a sip of water from the mug and began making notations in her notebook, thus giving Alistair a silent dismissal.
Alistair ignored her and gave a quiet groan. "Come on." He touched the table with his hand and Gwen's eyes lifted to his again, amusement etched on her face. "I hate feeling helpless. At least let me help you drain the lake. Or burn bodies? Something..."
She breathed out, blowing a stray hair away from her forehead. "Cassandra and I are leaving in a few minutes. You may join us. Just NO exerting yourself." She pointed at him.
He smiled and responded, turning away from the table slightly. "Of course."
"Wait." Gwen caught his attention again, digging into her shoulder bag on the floor next to her.
"I have something for you… for your thoughts, actually. I found it in one of the storage rooms here. In the caves, you said liked my idea of keeping organized, so I thought... well, mine has served me well. I hope this one does the same for you."
"A gift? And it isn't even my Name Day." He took the thick, handsome, leather bound journal with a grateful smile. Lowering his voice, he added, "Thank you, Gwen."
The woman gave him a shy smile. "You're welcome."
.
Ivan, a burly, tall soldier accompanied Cassandra, Gwen, and Alistair through the keep. They proceeded through the door which led to a storehouse that was fully stocked with various types of ale, wine, and all sorts of food.
Gwen caught Alistair's wide-eyed expression as they made their way through and wondered if he would sneak off in the middle of the night to ravage the supply of cheese kept there.
Another door led them back outside. Cassandra met Gwen's eyes as they simultaneously saw a row of benches under a canopy against the keep, weapons propped up on them and a slurry of mud with deep footprints.
"This is where they were coming from during our onslaught." She knelt down, pointing. "Here: look at these weapons and the footprints."
Following the mud-print-mess, they found a door, leading to one of the lower levels and Cassandra volunteered to investigate. Within moments, she emerged from the hallway with a pinched expression. "I found a barracks with a dozen bunks, across from a weapons storeroom. No wonder they seemed to have endless numbers: they very nearly did."
Gwen shook her head and looked over to her bruised Warden companion. "We would have done well with a little more information on this place."
Ivan interjected. "Been hard to find anything, if you don't mind me saying, Inquisitor. Couldn't get close without being shot at."
She turned to the tall man. "Don't take my words for criticism of anyone but myself. You work very hard and take losses, I know that. I wouldn't have wanted you to get this close, in any case."
"Ma'am." He nodded.
"Let's keep moving." She rose, directing them over a few small hills in the path.
They crossed a bridge and finally came to a tavern, named 'The Rusty Horn'. It was in great disrepair with debris scattered around, but there was a light in one of the windows.
"Be ready." She warned, calling on her magic, and threw a barrier around them. "Alistair, stay behind me this time."
He nodded with a smile.
Cassandra slowly opened the door with Ivan a step behind her. There were muffled noises coming from further inside the tavern. With silent steps, they walked down the corridor until it opened into a great hall. The Seeker was the first into the room and her cry of surprise brought the other three in hastily. As Ivan, Gwen, and Alistair walked into the room they were greeted by a pair of lovers, on the floor, naked in a tangle of limbs.
At the intrusion of the Inquisitor and her companions, they pulled a blanket across their bodies.
"Ah, the grimy floor of a dilapidated tavern: romantic." Alistair chuckled at them in slight disgust and walked by them without another glance.
Averting her eyes, Gwen moved passed them as well, deferring to the Seeker. "Dear Maker… Cassandra, you can take care of this, right?" She shook her head and made a quick escape to another door at the far end of the room.
Ivan's face reddened, yet his eyes never moved from the couple's prone forms.
"Uh... I suppose." The reluctant Seeker began to speak with the couple, albeit awkwardly.
"Good, let's get to these dam controls." At her own words, Gwen allowed a small grin appear on her lips as she looked over to Alistair. He too was smiling and shaking his head.
"Good one, Inquisitor." He murmured and walked past her to open the door.
Inside there was a hand-wheel controlling the dam and oddly, it was still intact. The mayor of the village had told them that darkspawn had flooded the lake by breaking the controls. Gwen thought again about Varric's uneasiness towards the man.
"Remind me to speak with Varric about the Mayor."
Alistair nodded and turned to walk around the room, picking up empty bottles to examine them.
"Ivan! Would you come and help me with this crank?" Gwen called out and he came walking swiftly into the back room to find the Inquisitor pressing forcefully but fruitlessly on the wheel.
Pushing together, they got the thing to move, but had to call Cassandra in for more strength. Alistair kept asking if he should help, and every time a flurry of 'no's' would send him retreating to the back of the small room. In the end they enlisted the help of the young gentleman lover, after he put his clothes back on.
In a final push, the massive chains pulled the gates open and the water flowed with a loud rush into the reservoir behind them. They walked out of the tavern together and began to hike the path back to the keep.
Gwen paused at the bridge and peered out to the landscape with a sigh. The light from the rift illuminated the clouds over the lake in a sick green wash. The waters kept rushing behind her, the noise numbing her sense of hearing.
A hand touched her on the shoulder and she reached up to touch it, turning her head to find Alistair there, his brow fraught with worry.
Gwen exhaled a wry laugh. "Just, look at it. And we're stuck here, waiting."
"We'll get to it."
Gwen gave him a weak smile. "Waiting makes me irksome."
"Lucky you; I know something about that."
Winking, he continued. "Come. Walk with me to the keep, have lunch, and I'll tell you all my secret ways of combating it." He held up his hand and in his grip was a bottle of wine, which he jostled lightly.
She laughed at the grin spreading across his face. "Alright. Not too much though. There's still a lot of work to do and you need to heal up."
"Of course." He smirked and huffed out a chuckle.
"What?"
"You're just… more professional today than yesterday."
"I am the Inquisitor, you know. These people look to me for guidance. Does it bother you?"
"No, not at all." His smirk turned into a wide smile. "You skin wolves. You lead the Inquisition. You aren't afraid to do the grunt work and take charge when you have to. Should I ever take command of anything, Maker help us," he laughed, "that's the kind of leader I'd like to be."
They started to walking towards the keep. "Your words, they've cheered me up a little. Thank you, Alistair."
He smiled again and they ambled up the path together, enjoying the chance at another small but private momentary diversion.
.
That night, two archers and the Inquisitor stood guard on the battlements. They walked around the keep and picked off any unlucky bandit scouts who tried to return to Caer Bronach, ignorant of its current residents. Gwen felt pride that her small force was able to keep the enemy at bay, and hoped they'd be able to do so until her troops arrived.
When the night became quiet, she decided to do a little exploring, telling the other soldiers that she'd be back within a reasonable amount of time. In those twilight hours, she went searching.
Gwen first noticed the candlelight flickering in a window above her, and curious, made her way to its source. She wasn't surprised to find that it was Solas who was still awake with a new-found tome in his lap. As she walked in, he lifted his head from its place in his hand and he stared at her, unmoved.
The place he had chosen for his quarters must have been a chapel of some sort and it overlooked the fields to the southeast. There was no door, only an open archway with a carved leaf motif around it. There were tall, small-paned, glass windows on the three walls surrounding him and he sat on a step in front of a stone altar. He lit a dozen candles to give himself enough light to read and he looked almost like a statue sitting in the center of the room, candle-light flickering across his stone features.
"Greetings, Inquisitor."
"Solas."
"It's quite late." He paused and cocked his head. "Has something happened? Alistair—?" He made to rise.
"No, stay. Everything is fine." Gwen gave him a modest smile and leaned against the arch. "I was just exploring the keep a bit and walking the battlements when I saw your light. I'm glad I found you."
"Indeed?"
She sighed a response, moving forward into the room. "I hate the way we left things before the siege."
He nodded back. "I am sorry that my words that night offended you. I only meant it as a warning. Though, I can see now that the Grey Warden poses you no threat. Without him, I'm not sure we would have survived the siege. For that, I am grateful."
"Apology accepted." Gwen felt relieved and thought on his other warning about desire versus duty, but before she could ask, he responded with a smile.
"I admit, I have missed our talks."
The corners of Gwen's mouth began to turn up into a smile and she responded, "As have I."
"Since you're here, we could perform our usual ritual. Would you like me to reiterate the events of the day so that you may compare notes from your codex?" Solas gestured to her pack which was slung over one shoulder.
She gave him a painful expression. "When you phrase it like that, it sounds so… dreadful." Gwen rubbed her temples.
"Not at all." Solas smiled at her. "It kept you on task, as I remember you saying more than once. I was happy to help."
"I did appreciate it, of course. I simply realize now that I was your leader even when we casually conversed in the night. I'm sorry I was so diplomatic."
The elf shook his head, dismissing her apology.
The Inquisitor found his eyes, "Solas… do you consider us… friends?"
His brow creased at her words and his head tilted. "Yes, I believe I do."
"Truly? Even though I've barely considered you as such, or looked at you more than an incredible mage and healer and an asset to our team?" She rambled on, looking down to her hands as she spoke and meeting his gaze at the last word.
"Even so." He breathed out a laugh and his eyes smiled at her. "I always knew that you were grateful for my addition to the group. You knew well how the pieces fit together and I trusted your judgement on the matter. And you respected me, that was enough."
"I can understand that, thank you." Her lips came to a firm line and she nodded.
Gwen looked at the walls in the small chapel: the shadows of the elf's body moved as a small gust of wind blew into the room and agitated the candlelight. "If I were to talk with you about matters other than official things related to the Inquisition, would you listen? And if you would, do you think that those things we would speak of would change your opinion of me?"
He again considered her rambling and answered. "I would listen, and it is not within me to judge." He deftly pulled a blanket out of his pack and laid it down next to him. Then he lay his hand on it, signaling her to join him. "What troubles you, falon?"
Gwen walked over to him slowly and dropped her pack. She positioned herself on the blanket so that she held her knees loosely. "Waiting troubles me, I suppose. I want to get to that Fade rift, close it, and get moving onward with our mission. But, we have to wait now. I wonder if we did the right thing and was the cost of Alistair's injury worth it?"
Solas breathed out deeply, "It does no good to dwell on the past, falon. We did what we could, given the resources we had, and don't forget: we prevailed. Regrets have no part in this life you live."
"I try to remember that, but sometimes it's difficult to master your own doubts, you know?"
"I do." He turned away from her abruptly, as if hiding his expression.
She continued, "What do you think I should do?"
"Stay the course." His face still turned away from her.
Solas turned his head toward her again. "You have made this decision and though it may seem wrong, from a certain perspective, the best you can do is have confidence and keep on this path. Deviating may cause you to lose not only your beloved people, but your reputation as a steadfast leader."
As he finished his words, he again turned to gaze out the window, a somber expression coming to his face.
Sensing his discomfort, Gwen spoke, "I should leave you to your reading. Thank you for talking with me."
"Wait." Solas turned to face her and closed his book with a soft snap. He looked at her with imploring eyes. "You said you missed our training sessions. If you're open to a little tutelage now, I could use a distraction." A small smile lay upon his lips.
"Now?"
"Why not? We will not be interrupted and you said yourself that you wanted to learn more of the healing arts."
"Oh. Yes! I do." Gwen sat up straighter, dropping her knees to sit cross-legged.
"Then let's begin." His smile faded and he took her hands in his, lifting her to stand. He stood close in front of her, his hands moving down her body in a slow and steady movement, hovering but not touching her.
Gwen froze in place, unsure of what the actions meant.
The elf started his explanation, still hovering his hands over her midsection. "For healing internal injuries, you must see inside the body. You must visualize the bones, muscles, tendons, organs, and flesh."
She relaxed and became intrigued. "How is it done? Is there some kind of spell that allows us to see into the body?"
Solas shook his head. "Nothing so complex. It is simply knowledge of the body, and of course its elements, which you have already learned. With your permission, I'd like to demonstrate what I mean."
Gwen nodded, slowly.
"First, remember the foundations of healing: restoring the flesh with healthy components gleaned from other places in the body."
"And have the patient replenish their stores immediately after healing."
"Precisely." A look of pride overtook him briefly. "Now with internal wounds, you apply the foundation of replacing elements with knowledge of the body's internal structures."
Solas rolled his sleeve up revealing an apple-sized bruise. He reached for her gloved hands and gently pulled at her fingertips, removing the garments gracefully and dropping them to the ground where she had been seated. He lay her hands lightly upon his warm flesh where the bruising occurred. "You must focus on the damage. The flesh beneath the skin is bruised. Feel my arm. Feel for irregularities."
"How am I supposed to know what the irregularities feel like if I've never touched your healthy skin before." She said, blushing.
Solas' lips pressed together in a flat line and he lifted an eyebrow at her. "Well— by your admission, you've determined what the first part of tonight's lesson is to be then: compare." He rolled up his other sleeve where no bruising occurred and deftly moved her left hand from the injured arm to the healthy one.
Gwen stood feeling the flesh of his two arms when her mind wandered. She thought that if anyone were to come upon them embracing, things might look evocative. Shaking the thought from her head, she tried to concentrate.
"Falon, focus. What do you feel?"
She rubbed her hand gently over his healthy skin. "This area feels smooth and cool."
"What do you see?"
Gwen pulled his arm closer. "The skin is clear, smooth and unblemished."
Shaking his right arm, he spoke. "This arm represents the healthy body. Now, look at the other."
She looked down to his bruised arm. The area was swollen slightly and a large purple blotch with yellowing edges was there. She pressed a little harder, feeling the swollen flesh underneath the skin and he winced in pain.
"Now, close your eyes while touching." He spoke softly.
Gwen did as her teacher instructed, closing her eyes firmly and feeling the bruised flesh, then the healthy flesh. She felt the heat from the wounded arm, the irritation, the burst veins and free moving blood. His heart pumped loudly and she readied her magic to contract, cool, and repair, taking the resources from stores within the body that she knew she could take from. She gently let her fingers release its magic upon her elven companion.
Solas took a deep breath as the wave of healing washed over him. "Perfect." He said finally on his exhale.
Gwen opened her eyes to see two healthy bruise-free arms in her grasp. She grinned widely. "You'd better eat some red meat now."
"You're an apt pupil. Though what I did for Alistair was quite complex." Solas sat again and dug in his pack for something.
"Here. This is an anatomy book. I keep it with me in case I need to refresh myself. I used it extensively with Alistair. You would do well to study it."
"Thank you."
"My pleasure."
She sat next to him as he brought out a few pieces of jerky, flipping through the pages of the book quickly. "Oh. Oh my goodness… childbirth?"
"Ah, yes." He chuckled lightly. "There are illustrations."
She closed the book. "I'd better read this when no one is around to see me blush." Gwen laughed at herself and stood to leave, but her bare, glowing hand caught her eye and she turned it over to examine the slit of green light.
She turned to the elf and held out her palm. "Solas?"
"Yes?"
"Do you think that this could do more than simply close rifts? Do you think it holds other powers?"
He studied her face intently then picked up her hand, brushing his fingers over the mark. "Without experimentation, I cannot say. Have you noticed new abilities or side effects?"
Gwen pulled her hand back and began to replace her gloves. "Alistair mentioned something about sleeping better when I was near. I've kept the damn thing mostly covered since then, I'd forgot about it until just now."
Solas chuckled and stifled a yawn. "I suppose since your mark connects you directly to the Fade, being near you while sleeping could somehow deepen a person's sleep. I will look into it if you wish."
"If you don't mind, I'd appreciate it."
"Of course, falon."
"That word you keep using, what does it mean?"
"It means friend, as you were so kind to point out that we have become." He smiled at her.
She turned to leave, then pivoted back to him, a droll look on her face. "Oh, one more thing before I depart."
"Yes?"
"Next time I'm wounded, you have my permission to cut off the offending material below the wound, leaving my modesty intact."
Solas blinked slowly, a small smile growing on his face. "Ah, yes I heard… my apologies. I had no idea that you would be so exposed upon your waking. Forgive me."
"You're forgiven." With that she bowed her head, smiling back at him. "Sleep well, Solas." Gwen turned from his room, walked out into the hazy moonlight, and back to strolling the battlements for the next couple hours.
"And you as well, Falon." He whispered.