Chapter TWELVE
Sleep evaded her for most of the remaining night. She was up just as the first telltale signs of dawn began to lighten the eastern horizon. She stayed in her tent as she listened to her companions start the fire again, swathed in her blankets and fingering Flemeth's heavy locket where it hung on her neck.
Varric departed to fetch some water from the nearby creek to fill their water flagons and to cook with. Anders had gone to fetch more wood, unable to stand being around the mage-hating elf. Fenris was stoking the cook fire to a roaring, albeit tiny, inferno in the shallow pit.
It was when Fenris was silent that Aria emerged from her tent. She stretched, feeling a number of vertebrae in her back pop at the action. Fenris sat facing her tent, next to the fire. He watched her, his intense, verdant gaze curious. She offered him a smile and produced a cream from her satchel, dispensing a small dollop on her fingertip. He watched as she used it to brush her teeth.
"What are you doing?" he asked when she turned her back to spit the foam out.
"Have you ever noticed the brightness of Kirkwallers' teeth?" Aria asked, wiping the remainder of the foam from her lips.
"I—had not, until you mention it now," Fenris honestly replied.
"They take powdered seashells, mint extract, and crushed salt and make a paste. Then they rub it on their teeth and gums," she said, sitting across from him. "Makes your teeth last longer and makes your breath quite pleasant."
"Would you mind if I tried it?" he asked, presenting her with the tip of his index finger.
Aria smiled, stood, and dispensed a dollop on it. He looked at her dubiously, one eye hidden beneath the reckless fringe of his silver hair, then popped it into his mouth. He mimicked her actions and after a couple minutes, turned and spat it out. She watched as he ran his tongue over his teeth appreciatively.
"That feels—rather refreshing," he said, smiling at her.
"It's good for you, too," Aria said. "If you'd like, I can have Bethany make some for you."
"I would indeed," Fenris congenially replied.
They sat for a few moments, just watching each other. Fenris seemed almost jovial this morning; as though he was content. The intensity of his gaze did not diminish, however, and she recognized, with discomfort, that she was quite loath to look away.
"Thank you for the drink last night," Aria said after a moment of awkward silence.
"You needn't. It was my pleasure," he quickly said. "I was thinking."
"Hmm? About?"
"About that song you sang. Or rather, the fact that you sing."
Aria laughed lightly. "And? I hope it wasn't too terrible. I'm a bit out of practice. It's been…a long time."
"On the contrary, you have a lovely voice." She blushed but did not reply. "It is curious," he continued, the light in his vibrant, dark green eyes playful.
"Do elaborate," she laughingly said, leaning forward, her elbows on her knees.
"Your name is a play on words, and an unusually accurate one," Fenris said.
"I'm not sure I understand," Aria replied.
"Aria Hawke. An aria is a part of an opera, usually written to showcase the talent of a soprano songstress. I was privy to many a performance with my former master. And Hawke is, simply put, a bird. So, Aria Hawke, in literal translation, is Song Bird."
"But the hawk is a bird of prey, so this is a song bird who'll rip your guts out with her talons. At least she'll sing a pretty song as she does it," Varric said from behind them, his voice lilting and teasing.
"There is that, yes," Fenris chuckled, his voice velvet over crushed diamonds.
"Thank you for that oh-so-insightful clarification, Varric," Aria quipped, her tawny eyes playful.
"It is a service I am happy to render, madam," Varric chivalrously replied, bowing deeply. "Has the Song Bird a ditty to grace us with whilst I prepare breakfast?"
Aria threw a handful of dirt at him.
"I fancy not, then," Varric chuckled, setting their water vessels down and nestling the iron pot full of water into the coals.
"Fancy what?" Anders asked as he entered their campsite, his arms laden with the dead wood he'd gathered from the surrounding forest.
"He wants me to sing again," Aria answered, inclining her head as he inclined his in greeting.
"You should," Anders said, offering her a kind, happy smile.
"I'm not going to burst into song about every little thing. Breakfast is hardly something to sing about," Aria deflected, mirth bubbling in her throat and spicing her words.
"I staunchly disagree," Varric said. "It's definitely something to sing about."
"Oh just shut up and make the food. I'm going to go scout the trail ahead," Aria deflected, standing and checking her daggers in their sheaths on her back.
"Don't be too long," Varric replied. "Grub will be ready before you know it."
Aria waved his words off and left them, grateful for being alone. She made her way through the forest to the well-worn trail and headed up the mountainside. She read the tracks, finding little human or elf foot traffic. She did find plenty of deer, mountain goat, hare, and wolf tracks. She also found the scat of a mountain lion that was fresh—it looked and smelled as though it was only left the night previous.
The path divided into a fork about half a mile from where their camp lay. She scouted each path for another half mile each, finding the one that wound higher up the mountain to be heavy with elven tracks. They were close.
Happy with her discovery, she raced back to camp.
"We were going to come looking in a couple more minutes," Varric said as she jogged into camp.
The tents Anders had fashioned for them were gone, returned to their previous forested state. The cook fire had been extinguished and next to it, a large clay bowl sat on a hot rock. It was full of gruel and next to it lay a slab of the pheasant meat from the night previous. Fenris had gone into the woods, telling Varric and Anders he would return shortly. Anders sat next to the extinguished fire, polishing his mage staff.
She ate quickly and true to his word, Fenris returned shortly before she finished. She cleaned the dish in the ash of the fire and gave it to Varric to carry. Then, they were on their way. They followed the path Aria had scouted and within a few hours of brisk travel, they reached the edge of the Dalish camp. Two guards, a male and a female elf with impressive bows on their backs, stood watch on the path, which was well defended by rock faces on either side that stretched a good thirty feet above them.
"Hold, shemlen!" the male guard hollered as the travelers came into view. "Your kind are not welcome among the Dalish!"
Aria took the amulet from around her neck, garnering curious stares from her companions. She held it up in the sunlight for the elves to see before speaking. "I was given an amulet for someone named Marethari," she simply said.
"How do you know that name?" the male elf accusingly spat, drawing his bow, an arrow already nocked.
"Wait!" the female elven guard cried, staying his bow with a firm touch on his forearm. "This is the one the Keeper spoke of."
"A shemlen?" the male said, turning to the female in disbelief. "I thought she'd be an elf."
"Enter the camp," the woman said, turning and opening an arm from her side. "Keeper Marethari has been waiting for you."
As they proceeded past the guards, the man said, "Cause trouble, and you'll meet our blades, stranger."
Fenris chuckled low in his throat at this and Aria shot him a warning glare. He shrugged in response and they continued through the camp. The Dales were not a friendly folk. They were wild, undoubtedly farther from human than any of the city-dwelling elves. They were free, and they bowed to no one but nature.
Aria figured the elf with the least amount of malice in her eyes was the one she wanted to talk to. She strode up to the elderly woman, whose face was adorned with cheery yellow tattoos in whimsical, beautiful designs on her face. She had stark white hair that she wore in a bun and eerily luminescent eyes.
"Marethari?" Aria asked. "I was told to bring you this amulet."
The elven matriarch smiled kindly, her feral eyes taking in the amulet with relief and caution. She held out her hand and Aria was all too happy to be free of the dreadful thing.
"Andaran atish'an, travelers," the woman said as she held the amulet. "I am Keeper Marethari," she continued, her eyes taking in each one of them and pausing for a moment on Aria. "Let me look at you," she said, gently touching Aria's cheek. "There is a light in your heart, human. Don't let it go out. You will need it. Tell me how this burden fell to you, child."
Aria was slightly unnerved by the Keeper's words. Her voice shook a little as she responded, "This amulet's owner rescued my family from the Blight. In return, I agreed to bring it to you."
"I honor you for coming to me, but I'm afraid your part in this is not done yet," she said, her voice cool and smooth as a mountain stream. Her eyes held sadness as she continued, "The amulet must be taken to an altar at the top of the mountain, and given a Dalish rite for the departed. Then, return the amulet to me. Do this, and your debt will be repaid."
Aria took the amulet and looked over it, then turned her questioning gaze back to the Keeper. "Are you…going to teach me this rite for the departed?"
"I will send my First with you," Keeper Marethari said, "She will see to it the ritual is done and when it is complete, I must ask that you take her with you when you go."
"Uh-oh," Varric murmured under his breath.
"Who is your First?" Aria queried, "First of what?"
"Your people would call her my apprentice or heir," the Keeper explained. "Merrill would have taken my place as Keeper. But she has chosen a new path. Please, guide her safely from here."
"This is…an odd request," Aria stated plainly. "I thought the Dalish stay together."
"You know of the People?" Keeper Marethari asked, her brows slightly elevating in surprise.
"Very little," Aria honestly said.
"It is her wish and I must grant it," The Keeper replied, a deep sorrow in her features at the words. "You'll find Merrill waiting for you on the trail just up the mountain. Dareth shiral."
Having obviously been dismissed by the elder elf, Aria walked through the camp towards the path that led up the mountain.
"Oh hey! Nature! I've heard about this," Varric sarcastically said as he narrowly evaded stepping in a fresh pile of deer excrement. "Thought it was just a rumour."
Anders burst into a fit of laughter. Fenris's mouth quirked slightly. Aria joined Anders in laughing.
"Oh Varric, what would I do without you?" Aria laughed.
"You wouldn't be anywhere near as popular. Duh," Varric dead-panned.
"Ouch," Aria said, feigning a dagger to the heart. Anders and Varric chuckled. Fenris…did not find it so funny.
"Seems pretty strange of a Keeper to want to cut her apprentice free," Anders said after they'd walked for a few more minutes.
"What other path could she choose, I wonder?" Aria added.
"Maybe she fell in love with a handsome dwarf and wants to elope," Varric chimed in.
"And then he rejects her because he can't bear cheating on his crossbow," Anders retorted.
"That, Blondie, is why I'm the storyteller and you are not," Varric laughed.
They rounded a bend and saw the hunched figure of an elf on the path. There was a ball of twinkling light in her palm and strange, ethereal voices coming from it. She rounded on them as soon as she heard their approach, the light disappearing with the closing of her hand.
She was lithe, delicate, and very pretty. Just like most of the elves Aria had seen. Her hair was a lovely reddish brown, kept rather short, with beaded streams at odd intervals. Her eyes were quite close in color to Fenris's with just a hint more yellow. Her green frock was adorned with intricately woven designs and she carried an ornate staff.
"Oh! I didn't hear," she gushed as soon as they came up. "You must be the one the Keeper told me about. Aneth era. I'm so sorry. I didn't ask your name. Unless…it's not rude to ask a human their name is it? I'm Merrill. Which you probably knew already. I'm rambling, sorry."
Aria was impressed with how quickly the little imp spoke. She seemed easily distracted but eager to please. Still, Aria was intrigued by the ball of light.
"Did you hear that strange noise?" she pointedly asked.
"Oh…I didn't hear anything."
Aria made a mental note to keep an eye on this one, but decided to drop the subject for now. "Why are you leaving the Dalish for Kirkwall?" Aria asked, changing gears.
"Here we go. On with the interrogation phase," Varric sighed.
"She got you too?" Anders quipped.
"I like to know who I'm working with. It's good for keeping your skin on your back and your innards from becoming outards," Aria sniped to the peanut gallery.
"Innards from becoming outards… I'm so using that," Varric said, shaking his head.
"I'm confused," Merrill simply stated, regarding them all with the dearest look of befuddlement.
"Nothing," Aria chuckled. "Why are you leaving the Dalish?"
Merrill became instantly defensive, her eyes meeting Aria's sharply and her voice shooting up a bit. "I have to. Let's leave it at that for now, all right?"
"Easy, I'm not going for confrontation. Just curious," Aria placatingly replied. "And you'll have to work harder than that to offend me. My name's Aria. Aria Hawke. The dwarf here is Varric, that's Anders, and the elf is Fenris."
"Thank you. I'm afraid I'm not very experienced with your kind. The Keeper said you came from Ferelden. I spent most of my life there. We only came north a little over a year ago. Have you been in the Free Marches long? Do you like it here?"
Aria was much intrigued by this character before her. Merrill gave the impression of being surprisingly bright but also very dim. She smiled benignly and looked around her before replying.
"I miss the cold. And the dirt. Kirkwall's not brown enough for me. But hey, no darkspawn at every turn!" Aria quipped.
"Ferelden wasn't that brown! The dirt and muck gave it character!" Merrill said, then as a swift afterthought, "Oh, you were joking. Right. We should go. Your task is for Asha'bellanar. It's not wise to make her wait."
"Yes, well, I imagine if it's the same person I'm thinking of, her patience has already been sorely tested. Let's get this over with," Aria replied on a sigh, checking her daggers.
They followed Merrill up the rugged, awkward, deep path, clambering over boulders and climbing through the rough, plentiful foliage. They reached a small plateau which was adorned with ancient looking burial mounds.
Just as Varric was starting to make some snide comment about nature again, the earth began to quiver beneath their feet. Aria had hardly drawn her daggers before a nightmarish squad of reanimated corpses and skeletons sprang from the ground, showering them all with putrid earth. They attacked and the small group of travelers sprang into action.
Luckily enough, they were easy to fell. A couple of well-placed hits with a sword and they shattered, their brittle bones and fetid flesh turning to dust. Aria had hardly broken a sweat before the little battle was finished. The biggest thing she'd garnered from the battle was something that she had already suspected: Merrill was a practitioner of magic.
"The Keeper didn't mention you were a mage," Aria cautiously stated, carefully gauging Anders's and Fenris's reactions to the question. Anders was nonplussed. Fenris looked as though he'd stepped in something particularly foul.
"I imagine it's difficult to give away something nobody wants," Fenris growled, keeping his enormous long sword drawn and both hands on the hilt.
Merrill shot him a venomous look before turning back to Aria. "All Keepers know a bit of old magic," she said, sounding as though relaying a well-known children's tale to a complete idiot. "The stories tell us that all elvhen once had the gift, but like so many things, it was lost. It's a Keeper's job to remember, to restore what we can."
"Can't demons possess Dalish mages?" Aria asked, ignoring the glare Anders shot at her.
"It can happen," Merrill hastily hedged, making Aria instantly nervous. "And when it does, the clan must hunt and kill their own Keeper."
Aria chuckled and clapped a hand on the apprentice's shoulder. "Keep turning skeletons into toads for us."
Merrill's face was blank for a moment, no doubt confused again. "But I never—Right, not literally. Happy to help," she said, blush staining her fair cheeks.
"You look like you've fought before," Aria said, following as Merrill started climbing the path again.
"I've done a little fighting before, but it was always alone," the Dalish almost sadly replied. "I'll try not to hit anyone," she quickly added, her earnestness endearing. "On our side, I mean. I'm babbling. Let's go."
Aria and Varric chuckled together and kept following their elven guide. They reached another small plateau and were greeted, none too appreciatively, by a Dalish hunter. He regarded Merrill with open contempt.
"So the Keeper finally found someone to take you away from here," he sneered at her, his tawny eyes glinting unchecked malice.
"Yes," Merrill sharply replied, lifting her chin in defiance.
The Dalish hunter looked to Aria then. "Then finish your task quickly, human. We cannot be rid of this one too soon." He bounded lightly down the path from whence they'd just come, shooting a venomous glare at Merrill over his shoulder before he disappeared from view.
"Hmm. I'm sensing a story here," Varric smoothly said, his eyes on Merrill.
Merrill rounded on him, her earlier defensiveness piqued. "I have made my choice. And I will save our clan, whatever they think," she said, pointedly glaring at where the other Dalish had previously disappeared down the path.
"What's going on here, Merrill?" Aria asked, her own nerves singing with anxiety. This was not at all what she had expected would happen when she came here.
"Nothing," Merrill said, a little too quickly and her voice a little too squeaky. "Just ignorance. We should go."
Fenris sighed heavily and Anders shook his head. Aria and Varric exchanged apprehensive glances before following after the elven mage again. The next plateau they reached was blocked by a landslide. Aria inspected it, but found no prudent course to further their ascent. Merrill informed her that there was a cave up ahead that would take them where they needed to go.
"A cave… That's not ominous at all, no no," Varric groused as they reached the cave's mouth.
"I'm sorry," Merrill said, standing next to Aria as they contemplated the entrance. "You're not really seeing the Dalish at their best. We're good people that look out for each other. Just not today, apparently."
Aria rolled her eyes. "But the Dalish are delightful!" she said, her voice sickly sweet. "I was just thinking of inviting the whole clan over for tea!"
Merrill grinned widely at her, her green eyes sparkling. "I'm sure they'd accept an—Oh. Right. Sarcasm," she said, her mirth falling. "Even if my people don't appreciate my efforts, I must see this through. Let's go. Asha'bellanar isn't known for her patience."
"You keep saying that and it really doesn't help allay my concerns," Aria groaned, following the elf into the cavern.
Inside, a bit of sunlight lanced through a hole in the cave's ceiling. Before they could get too far, however, they were attacked by enormous cave spiders that were sure to give Aria nightmares for weeks. Sure, there had been huge spiders near Lothering in the Korcari Wilds, but it didn't mean she enjoyed meeting them.
Once they'd dispatched the arachnids, they ventured farther in. A heady wind blew through the cave and Aria could see sky through the cavern wall. They hadn't reached the cave exit yet when yet another attack ensued.
This time, besides more spiders of course, some long-forgotten spirits attacked. Their breath was foul. Their eyes glowed an unnerving blood red and their bodies were hard and twisted. She plunged her dagger through one's eye socket and it disappeared in a puff of noxious smoke.
Knowing that caves like this often harboured forgotten treasure, she took a quick look around. Aria found an ancient chest whose locking mechanism had long since rusted away. She found some little healing vials and some ancient looking gloves, but nothing more of use.
Merrill was impatiently tapping her foot next to the hole in the cavern wall as Aria finished pillaging.
"Asha'bellanar can wait five more minutes. I'm sure it won't kill her," Aria said as she followed the elf through to the other side.
"I think being turned into a toad will be the least of your problems," Anders chuckled, sidling up next to her. Their shoulders bumped amiably as they navigated the narrow cavern.
"Story of my life," Aria laughed.
"I'm beginning to see," he said, and their gazes met fleetingly.
She felt nervous again with the heat of his soft, dark gaze and they continued out into the open. A refreshing wind washed away the dank, sour smell of the cavern and they strode out onto a high cliff that overlooked the rest of the mountain range. It was breathtaking and made Aria realize just how small she really was in the grand scheme of things.
At the only path leading along the cliff, an ominous, magical barrier sizzled and hummed before them. Aria scouted around it while Anders and Merrill examined the barrier itself. As Aria returned to the group, Merrill spoke up.
"I can open the way forward. One moment," she said, producing a small, wickedly-edged knife and cutting her palm open. She said some eerie incantation in which her voice took on a sinister, ethereal quality—like a voice from another world joined hers, its timbre much deeper and malevolent.
The barrier disappeared with a sickening "crack!" and the path was clear.
"Blood magic?" Fenris growled, though it was more a statement than a question. "Foolish. Very foolish."
"Yes, it was blood magic, but I know what I'm doing," Merrill snapped at him, sounding as though she was trying to convince herself above anyone else. "The spirit helped us, didn't it?"
Aria groaned. "Sure, demons are very helpful…right up until they take your mind and turn you into a monster."
Merrill rounded on her, her green eyes too large for her face as she grew defensive again. "Well, yes. But that won't happen. I know how to defend myself. Be careful up ahead," she said, stepping through the path where the barrier had existed.
They followed her down the path, which led to another burial ground. Strange, large stones littered the place and an unsettling energy coursed through the very air. The hair on the back of Aria's neck stood up and she snapped her wrists, whirling her daggers in apprehension.
"Restless spirits prowl the heights," Merrill said as they entered the ancient burial ground. "In the days of Arlathan, the elders came here to sleep," she explained, her fingers lightly tracing along the runes carved into the stones in an almost loving fashion, "Uthenera. The endless dream, they called it. But they don't sleep peacefully anymore."
As if her words were the secret code that needed to be uttered, several spirits appeared in solid form. They were much like the ones the group had encountered in the cave, except these were stronger and filled with even more malice, if it was even possible.
Aria snapped into action, her patience at its end. She wanted this bloody excursion over with. She was hot, tired, cranky, and in need of a bath. Silly as it was, Aria was very fond of cleanliness. She hated having the dust and odor of battle clinging to her.
A rather large entity stood near a large stone altar. Aria launched herself at it, instinct driving her to take on the most formidable foe. Its mouth widened in a horrific bloodlust grin, its rotten teeth dripping with the most noxious, disgusting green slime. Its cold eyes glared at her like blood-filled lanterns. She sidestepped the swipe it made with its rusted, black blade and whirled in an arc, driving both her blades into its back then quickly retreating.
It chased her and she blocked the murderous blows it rained down on her with its demonic blade. She parried and evaded, moving like a dancer engaged in a highly advanced number with the spirit. She drove and ducked, striking deep blows at its core, then whirling again to do the same to its back. It struck a couple of blows against the hard leather of her armour, gouging through in one spot on her abdomen. Luckily, she was moving away as it happened and the wound was but a shallow scratch. She grew enraged and unleashed a bevy of swift, devastating attacks.
Finally, it fell to its skeletal knees and she slashed down with all her strength, rending its head from its body and sending it crashing forward onto the ground. The matter within dispersed in a cloud of putrid smoke, leaving the rotted armour and robes behind, flat and lifeless on the ground.
As she finished, she looked up and saw her companions watching. She realized her heels rested just at the edge of the precipice by the altar. Before vertigo could steal her sense, she took a few steps forward, then looked back over the edge. She shivered. Heights had never been her favorite thing in the world.
"Can we please get this shit over with now?" she agitatedly asked, sheathing her daggers and looking at the altar.
"Y-y-yes. Let's," Merrill stammered, taking the amulet that Aria proffered. "Hahren na melana sahlin," she said, her voice smooth and the foreign tongue beautiful. She looked to the sky and continued, "Emm ir abelas souver'inan isala hamin vherran him dor'felas." She placed the amulet on the altar then. "In uthenera na revas. "
The amulet began to glow, then emitted a shower of rays of every color imaginable. The rays of light converged and coalesced into the form of the woman Aria had met as the darkspawn ravaged Lothering. She was a tall, regal old woman. Her amber eyes spoke of wisdom far beyond what the beautiful but old visage could possibly know. Her pewter hair swirled together on the sides of her head forming two great horns and two smaller tines tipped in scarlet. The rest fell down her back in shimmering, dark silver waves.
"Aaaah, and here we are!" the Witch of the Wilds said, her regal, pewter head turning to appraise the people before her, her voice pleased.
"A witch!" Fenris shouted, drawing his blade again in alarm.
"It's all right, Fenris!" Merrill said, staying his hand. "She means us no harm. Andaran atish'an, Asha'bellanar," she continued, striding forward and kneeling before Flemeth.
"One of the people, I see, so young and bright. Do you know who I am beyond that title?"
Merrill did not look up as she said, "I know only a little."
"Then stand," Flemeth graciously said, "The People bend their knee too quickly." Her gaze leveled on Aria. "How refreshing to see someone who keeps their end of a bargain. I half-expected my amulet to end up in a merchant's pocket!"
Aria was a little stung by the lack of faith. "I agreed to deliver the amulet, though you could have told me you were inside it."
Flemeth's lips turned up slightly at the corners, her bright, amber eyes amused. "Just a piece. A small piece, but it was all I needed. A bit of security, should the inevitable occur. And if I know my Morrigan, it already has."
"You are no simple witch," Fenris said then, his expression one of careful awe.
"Figured that out yourself, did you?" Flemeth chuckled sarcastically.
"I have seen powerful mages, spirits, and abominations. But you are none of those things. What are you?" he asked, his tone taking on an accusatory note.
"Such a curious lad," Flemeth venomously drawled, her voice low and seductive. "The chains are broken, but are you truly free?"
Fenris seemed impressed. "You see a great deal."
"I am a fly in the ointment. I am a whisper in the shadows. I am also an old, old woman. More than that, you need not know," she said, her gaze appraising him further. He lifted his chin defiantly.
"Should I know who Morrigan is?" Aria asked, eager to get this whole meeting over with.
"She is a girl who thinks she knows what's what better than me or anyone. Ha ha! As I raised her to be. I could not expect less."
"I am not sure whether she's your daughter or enemy," Aria cautiously ventured.
"Neither is she," Flemeth slyly replied.
"You should have told me what I would face," Aria boldly stated, not too happy about a spirit almost knocking her off a cliff to a grisly death.
"Did I trick you?" Flemeth silkily said, the sinister undertone not going unnoticed by Aria, "I asked you to bring the amulet and you did. If I thought it such an easy task, I might have asked anyone. But you have succeeded where others would not."
"You have plans, I take it?" Aria asked, her eyes on Flemeth's.
The witch smiled slowly, almost sadly. "Destiny awaits us both, dear girl. We have much to do. But before I go, a word of advice?"
Aria nodded tersely. Flemeth continued as though her permission didn't matter.
"We stand upon a precipice of change. The world fears the inevitable plummet into the abyss. Watch for that moment, and when it comes, do not hesitate to leap. It is only when you fall that you learn you can fly," she cryptically said, the light in her eyes almost merry.
"What should I do?" Aria asked, slightly confused. Was she being literal or figurative?
"Do as I do," Flemeth barked, laughing as she continued, "Become a dragon!" She grew instantly serious and mocking as she said, "You could never be a dragon." The witch turned to Merrill, her expression almost motherly. "As for you child, step carefully. No path is darker than when your eyes are shut."
"Ma serannas, Asha'bellanar," Merrill said, bowing.
"Now the time has come for me to leave. You have my thanks—and my sympathy."
They watched as she glowed again and her form shifted into that of a great dragon. She flew away over the mountains and a chill ran through Aria. The witch's warning could not be taken lightly. But she could not yet see how the world was so doomed. The Blight had been defeated. Where then, was the threat?
They made good time heading back to camp, mostly silent as they all considered their own thoughts. Aria was most surprised that Anders had said nothing to the witch. She had figured that out of all of them, he would be most eager to engage her in conversation. She was very old and knew more than any being alive.
Anders stopped her after he saw blood seeping down her abdomen, over her hip, and down her thigh. The party stopped while he tended her, his expression relieved when she removed the thick leather plate and allowed him to look at the wound. She blushed at the scrutiny in both his and Fenris's gaze. Her torso was covered in naught but a thin camisole and her brassiere, leaving her quite open for perusal. Anders tenderly lifted the shredded, blood-soaked part of her camisole and murmured something arcane, his hand smoothing almost erotically over her abdomen. She could feel the wound close with a hot, tingling sensation and there was a dull ache that seared her lower abdomen.
"You were lucky," he said as he helped her put her armour back on.
"Hawke makes her own luck," Varric chuckled, keeping his gaze averted from the other rogue.
"She was reckless," Fenris growled haughtily. "If she hadn't stricken him down when she did, she would have either been pushed off the cliff or disemboweled."
Aria turned to say something, but Anders cut in, his tone incensed and his dark eyes cold as black diamonds.
"Any warrior faces the same plight every time they decide to engage blades," he snapped. "I've no doubt she's every bit as skilled as you, if not more so."
"I wasn't insulting her skill," Fenris coolly stated, his brow arching in amusement. "I simply said she was reckless. That she still lives is testament to that skill. But one day," he said, his gaze going to Aria, "you may not be able to jump headlong into the fray and come out alive."
Aria looked between both Anders and Fenris for a moment, plucking at the lacing in her armour to tighten it. They both looked expectantly back at her; Anders for justification, Fenris in amusement.
"We're all alive. Let's just go home. I'm done with all of this," Aria finally said, twirling her dagger over her head in a gesture that encompassed the entire area.
It took much less time to reach the camp than it had to get to the altar. Aria was thankful for this and more than eager to get back to Kirkwall. She wanted to put this place far, far behind her. As they strode into the camp, the glares Merrill garnered set Aria's teeth on edge. She didn't want any trouble—all she had wanted to do was pay her debt and leave. Getting dragged into this was a thorn in her side.
"Ma serannas, child. Your debt is paid in full," Keeper Marethari said as Aria gladly gave her the amulet. She turned to Merrill, her golden eyes pained. "It isn't too late to change your mind, da'len."
Merrill bowed, her eyes cold and distant. "Dareth shiral, Keeper," she said flatly, turning to Aria. "I'm ready. Let's depart."
Aria bowed to the Keeper and followed Merrill out of the camp, wondering exactly what she had just gotten herself into. Out of the frying pan, into the fire, Mother always said. She thought she finally understood the old adage.
They traveled the rest of the afternoon and through the night, reaching Kirkwall as the light of dawn touched the twin statues in the harbour. The travelers escorted Merrill to the elven alienage near the docks on the other side of Lowtown.
Merrill talked to an elven merchant about housing and procured a disused little hovel for herself. Aria waited while the transaction was completed, noting the excitement that raced through the alienage at having a true Dalish First among them.
Finally, Merrill stepped back into the alienage square where Aria, Anders, Fenris, and Varric waited, seeing through their obligation to the Keeper.
"Elgar'nan," Merrill softly whispered as she came back to where the group of vagabonds stood. "Is this…is this really where the elves live?"
"This is it," Fenris dryly stated, his brooding demeanor back in full force.
"Not the prettiest part of Kirkwall, but it doesn't have a view of the giant chains. Take what you can get," Varric comically added.
Merrill took in the rest of the alienage, noting the inhabitants and how they gawked at her. "I didn't think it would be so…so… I've never seen so many people in one place before. It seems so lonely."
"Try to think of it as…yet another adventure," Aria smoothly said, curling an arm around the elf's shoulders. "You have a lot to give your peers. I wager your council will be much appreciated."
"Some adventurer I am," Merrill replied. "Barely set out and I'm already daunted. Thank you for everything. For all your help. Will you come visit me? Not now, of course. But maybe later? I could use a friend."
The question stung Aria and she felt the elf's loneliness more profoundly than she had at first realized. "Of course. But only because you used that 'you kicked my puppy' voice," Aria gently stated, putting a casual distance between herself and the elf. She meant it. She felt she had a friend in Merrill.
"Thank you. Oh! I'm thanking you too much, aren't I? I mean it though," the Dalish First said, walking back towards her hovel.
Aria watched her go, making sure Merrill was safely creating her own little nesting place before she ventured away from the alienage. Anders, Varric, and Fenris followed, Fenris's glare alerting her, wearily, to his staunch disapproval at having helped a mage. Aria vowed to herself that she'd make it up to him later. But for now, she wanted to go home, take a long hot bath, and sleep. Tomorrow was yet another day and she didn't exactly look forward to it.