Chapter SIXTY-SIX
They made it to the Dalish Camp just before the sun crested the trees the next morning. Breakfast had been a quick, meager affair as they had all been eager to see this quest to fruition. Not because they held an enormous amount of affection for Merrill, Hawke excluded, but because they just wanted it over and done with.
Fenris and Aria scouted ahead together, keeping a distance from the rest of the party so that they could privately converse. Anders and Varric were behind them, and bringing up the rear was a pensive, distracted Merrill. She seemed to slow the farther they made it up the mountain, her dread of possibly meeting with Marethari becoming a physical weight that bogged her down, and by extension, the rest of the party.
Aria and Fenris made the camp first and were greeted amiably by the Dalish. Variel nodded at them as they entered, though one of the guards at the edge of the camp gave them a warning.
"The sooner you all leave this place, the better," he curtly said as they passed.
Aria went over to Master Ilen, who greeted her warmly. Aria perused his wares and honored him with her patronage, buying some gauntlets, an enchanted pendant, and some elf root, health, and stamina potions. They made idle chit chat about the goings on in Kirkwall's trade, and Aria and Fenris accepted his apology over the loss of their babe.
Arianni, the mother of the mage child Anders, Fenris, and Varric had rescued from demons in the Fade came over to them, her eyes bright. Feynriel's mother regarded them with kind eyes and she gripped Hawke's forearm in greeting.
"Andaran atishan, Hawke. I hear the templars have grown more abusive of the mages in Kirkwall. I'm glad Feynriel is no longer subject to their whims. I have you to thank for that," she said, eyes alight. Sadness crept in as she continued, "I heard about your own son. I am so sorry." She turned to Fenris and gripped his forearm in greeting, her condolences extended to him as well. She smiled at Varric and Anders in turn as they arrived, but her gaze grew cold when it passed over Merrill, and she turned away, bidding them luck on whatever endeavor brought them to the camp.
Aria eavesdropped a young maiden washing clothes with a few other elven girls as they made their way through the camp.
"Sundermount is cursed. We should never have come here," the girl said, scrubbing what looked like leggings in a shallow basin.
"Aye. And now Hawke is back with that demon worshipper, Merrill," another maiden chimed in. Aria could feel the ice in the glare directed at her back.
"Hawke isn't the problem," another elf chimed in. "If anything, she's kept Merrill in check. And she married an elf."
The first maiden snorted. "He's not elvhen. He's a slave and a mage hunter. But he's not of the People."
"Oy! Mind your tongue. He's an ally, and a powerful one," the third girl reprimanded.
"A flat-eared one," the second elf chortled.
Aria tuned the conversation out at this, fearing that their insults of her beloved might lead to an unsavory end if she lingered too long. Fenris bristled next to her, having undoubtedly heard the exchange, and she surreptitiously squeezed his hand as they continued through the camp.
"We've been here too long," whispered another elf to Hahren Paivel, the clan's historian and teacher. "Mythal protect us."
The Hahren smiled as they approached and gripped Aria's forearm in greeting as well. "You've taken on a heavy burden, Hawke. I am sorry for you both for your son. May the Creators watch over you."
"Thank you," Aria simply answered, covering his grip with her other hand.
They made their way finally to Marethari. The clan's matriarch beamed when she saw Merrill but the cheer went unreciprocated.
"Welcome home, da'len," Marethari said, ignoring Hawke for the moment.
"This isn't a homecoming, Keeper," Merrill curtly replied. Her voice went up an octave, quavering as she continued. "Why is the clan even here? You should have moved on ages ago!"
Marethari's jaw went up in defiance and she glared proudly back at Merrill. "The clan still has business here, da'len. We will leave when it is time."
Merrill regarded her with undiluted incredulity. "It was time three years ago! You can't stay here! The humans will force you to leave or...or worse!" Merrill pleaded.
Marethari regarded her with deep sadness, her brows furrowing, her tone grave. "There are plenty of hiding places in these mountains. We will stay until my business is done. If you are not returning to us, what has brought you back?"
At this, Hawke intervened. "If one of the Dalish becomes an abomination, what do you do?"
The Keeper regarded Aria with what could only be construed as pity. Like Aria was an uneducated child far behind on the learning curve. "If you're hoping the Dalish hold miracles, child, I'm afraid you'll be disappointed. Even if the demon is driven out, the soul is left scarred. It can never recover. Not truly. Like a wounded animal, it will fall prey to scavengers. The only cure is death."
At this, Aria looked at Merrill, who pointedly avoided her gaze. Merrill knew the consequences, and damn them anyway. Aria sighed, hoping to make one last plea to save Merrill from her folly. "Your First is going to summon a demon to get advice about her mirror."
Merrill's head snapped up and regarded Aria in horrified shock. "Did you really have to say it that way?"
Marethari's voice was strained and tired as she spoke, "I've already done everything in my power to stop this. And some things that were beyond my strength. I had rather hoped you would succeed where I had failed. I'll do what I can to buy you time." Her next words pleaded with Hawke. "Talk to her. Save her from this."
The Keeper turned from them then and Aria clenched her fists at her sides, nails biting tiny crescents into her skin. She fought to rein in the worst parts of her temper. She grappled with the overwhelming desire to slap the shit out of the blood mage for her stubbornness, her pride, and the pain she was obviously causing not just Marethari, but the whole clan. Merrill was being selfish. Arrogant. Hateful. It was ugly. It was the ugliest she'd ever seen the elf behave; like watching the fight between a spoiled adolescent and their parent when the child repeatedly tells the parent how much they hate them, despite the obvious love and devotion shown them every single day of their lives. Marethari was undeserving of Merrill's ire, and Aria, sadly, was beginning to think Merrill undeserving of the matriarch's love.
"Merrill?" Aria asked when she finally had control of herself again.
"Nothing you can say-" Merrill began, but Aria waved a hand and cut her off.
"Right. Headlong into the abyss we go, then," Aria flippantly retorted, turning on her heel and up the path Merrill had indicated on her map this morning just before they broke camp. It had been the same route they'd used to bring the amulet to Flemeth, up by the grave yard and the altar they'd used to summon Asha'bellanar.
Merrill followed, oblivious to the mood Hawke was in. "I hate to say it, but my ancestors were not thinking clearly when they decided to bury people on top of a mountain."
Aria sighed heavily at this, but didn't offer any more by way of response, opting instead to begin the climb up to the first cave they'd have to use to cut through the mountain. A heavy sense of foreboding fell over them as they trudged up the steep incline and Aria hadn't noticed it the last time they'd been here.
"Does anyone else get the feeling that this is going to end very badly? Just me then? Okay," Varric snarked, glowering at the road before them as he continued climbing. It took a lot more effort for him and they stopped after a while to let the dwarf rest.
"It's not all bad, Varric," Merrill cheerfully said. "Think of the stories you'll be able to tell later!"
Varric shot her a wry smile. "No offense, Daisy, but I could live without telling anyone how we murdered you on a mountainside. It's... a little hard to make that one sound good."
Merrill saddened at this and went quiet. Fenris joined Aria at the head of their party, and they continued their ascent. When they reached the mouth of the cave, Anders seemed disquieted, but said nothing. Aria looked back at all of them, noting that everyone's mood had soured considerably. She sighed and entered, daggers at the ready.
They made it through the cavern unassaulted, which added the sense of wrongness of the place. Had it always been this bad? This...menacing feeling? Aria tried to remember, but at the time, her mind had been decidedly elsewhere. She'd been more focused on the love triangle she'd brought with her the last time she'd been this far up the mount.
Once they were through, Merrill took the lead. They passed through the graveyard and waited as Merrill went to pray at the shrine to Mythal there.
"Mythal, all-mother, protector of the People, watch over us, for the path we tread is perilous. Save us from the darkness, as you did before, and we will sing your name to the heavens," Merrill reverently said, then, somewhat embarrassed, turned back to them. "Sorry. I didn't mean to hold us. You just... It is never wise to ignore Mythal."
Aria had heard the name and knew some elven lore, but she didn't know the meaning behind it. "Who or what is Mythal?"
Merrill beamed at Aria, happy to share something of her culture that didn't make others cringe away from her in fear. "She's the Protector. The mother of the Creators. The one who put the moon in the sky. Wisest of all the gods," Merrill solemnly stated, motioning for them to continue walking. "When Elgar'nan defeated his father, the sun, the earth was plunged into darkness. Everything was about to perish. Mythal appeared then. Soothed Elgar'nan and restored the sun to the heavens. The People always look to her for help."
Aria smiled at this. "If she's temperamental, maybe I should join you."
"It wouldn't hurt," Merrill said, not catching the sarcasm in Aria's proposal. "They say if Mythal smiles on you, then you need fear nothing at all. But those who anger her, they're struck from the earth—as if they never lived at all."
"Well let's hope she's smiling and in a good mood," Aria quipped as they climbed the next steep path.
"I don't think—right. You're joking. Again." After a few moments, she added, absently, "My stomach is full of butterflies. Not literally, mind you. Calm down, Merrill. Deep breaths. Mythal'enaste."
Just as they rounded the next bend, the ease with which their climb had been going was broken. Dragonlings assaulted them and they launched into battle. It wasn't much of a fight with five of them and four of the creatures. Aria stripped some of their scales for crafting and they continued on their way.
"Who thought putting a demon," Varric huffed, "in a cave on top of Sundermount was a good idea in the first place?"
"Where would you have put him?" Merrill defensively asked.
"Tevinter, maybe. Or the Anderfels. Further away from Kirkwall, that's for damn sure," retorted Varric.
Merrill glared at him but said no more and they finally reached the mouth of the cave. Right on cue, a host of undead, shades, and some shadowy demon-like fiends attacked them. Aria focused on two of the shadows while the rest of the party dealt with the undead and the shades. Once the enemies were dispatched, they entered the cave.
Except, upon entering, it wasn't really a cave. More like an opulent, forgotten shrine or church. Two sets of stairs laid before them, one to the left, one to the right, however they both converged in the same antechamber below. Aria took the left side stairs, looking up at the majestic columns and gorgeously done stonework of the place. It was ancient and beautiful and...powerful. She was no mage, but she could feel the mana stored in the stones of this place.
Varric gave a low whistle. "Demon has better digs than I do. And I work for a living."
"You work?" Fenris asked.
Varric glared at him and Anders snorted. Aria had almost forgotten the other mage was there, he'd been so quiet. Not at all like himself. She filed it away to ask him once they'd dealt with the current situaton.
They continued down the stairs and at the opposite end of the opulent room, stood a large idol. It almost looked like a golem. Tall, bulky, imposing. It sat on a large dais, legs crossed, hands resting on its knees. A beautiful stone archway stood over it. Next to it grew some Felandaris, which Anders promptly harvested, eyeing the idol warily the whole time.
"Something is wrong," Merrill said, a note of panic adding weight to the statement. "This was where the spirit was bound. But now... It feels... Empty." She turned to look at Aria, fear washing over her features.
The cold, merciless fingers of dread closed around Aria's spine and she fought the shiver it induced. "Who bound it here and why?"
"There was a war," Merrill replied. "Long ago. Between my people and the Tevinter Imperium." She turned away at this, her eyes screwing tightly shut as though remembering something extremely painful, its ghost coming back to haunt. "After the magisters sank Arlathan, my people made a last stand. Here. Fighting on the graves of our elders. "
Fenris spoke up at this, his eyes darting around the cavern with new respect. Aria almost forgot that this was, essentially, his history too. "I've heard of this," he somberly said. "A final, vengeful strike. They unleashed chaos upon this mountain to teach our people that resistance was futile."
Merrill nodded, a small, sad smile on her lips. It was a rare moment of kinship between them and it would only last precious seconds. "I don't know if it was Tevinter or the Elvhenan who bound the spirit, but he was left here from the war."
"Maybe it... Freed itself?" Aria hopefully stated, not wanting to consider the darker, other, more likely possibilities.
Merrill shook her head. "It would have taken powerful magic to break him free of this prison. You couldn't just set him loose. Nobody could. Not without doing something terrible. This is very wrong."
"We're done, then," Aria said, turning to go. "Let's get back to Kirkwall."
"No, you don't understand, Aria. He couldn't leave this place. Something dreadful had to happen for this cave to be empty," Merrill said, her voice pitching higher in fear. She grabbed Aria's arm to stop her from leaving.
"I happened," Marethari's strained voice issued from behind them. The elven Keeper strode in, her eyes steadily on Merrill.
"Keeper, what have you done?" Merrill brokenly asked, terror and tears welling in her eyes.
"The demon's plan was always for you to finish the mirror. It would have been a doorway out of its prison and into our world. You would have been its first victim. I couldn't let that happen, da'len," Marethari replied.
Merrill hugged herself, looking at the Keeper in heartbroken disbelief. She was in shock, mortified, unable to process what the Keeper had just said.
Aria...was quite pissed, actually. "You didn't think to mention that the demon was gone before we hiked all the way up here?"
Marethari regarded Aria with a deep sadness and walked away from them towards the idol again. She kept her back to them as she said, "It's not gone. I couldn't fight it in the Fade while it was trapped and I couldn't banish it without making it stronger. So, I made myself its prison. Kill me, and it dies too. Merrill will finally be safe."
Aria gasped at this, looking between Merrill and Marethari. What the Keeper had done... Was unthinkable. She'd literally exchanged herself for Merrill. An impossible choice. An unfair choice. Aria's heart fell as she realized what had to be done now in order to stop the demon. Marethari... Would have to die. Aria's head reeled as she calculated the cascade of consequences such an action would bring. It would destabilize the Sabrae clan. It would ruin her own reputation with the Dales, a reputation she'd worked so very had to earn. It would be...the end for Merrill.
Merrill held her face in her hands, sobs racking her thin, tiny shoulders. "No!" she said after a few seconds, rounding on Marethari. "You can't ask... I won't do this!"
Marethari turned and faced Merrill, her chin high, her eyes loving. "You always knew your blood magic had a price, da'len. I have chosen to pay it for you. Dareth shiral."
A shower of sparks and pillars of light erupted where the Keeper had been and Aria knew this song all too well. So did the rest of them. Staffs spun to, blades quickly unsheathed, and bolts nocked. The biggest demon Aria had ever seen emerged from the light show and it spared them nothing as the great purple mass of sinew and sharp edges launched itself at them in earnest.
They attacked in return, a close-knit unit that had fought many battles together. Anders distracted it with elemental attacks and kept an eye on the rogues and warrior's injuries. Merrill launched debilitating magical attacks to keep its focus split. Varric went on the ranged defensive, helping further divide the behemoth's attention. Fenris met the creature head-on, taunting it and delivering critical blows. Aria slipped unseen to the demon's flank and assaulted it from there.
After a few moments of intense battle, the beast let out a shrieking roar that pushed them all back. It towered over them, profusely bleeding bright pink blood, slobber dripping from its horrendously sharp, numerous fangs. It singled Aria out, a deep basso rumble of a voice emitting from the depths of that enormous chest.
"How many glib words have dribbled from your lips, all testament to your cleverness?" It chided, goaded. "Every one has fed me!" It roared and redoubled its frontal assault, singling Aria out for some reason.
"Suddenly it all makes sense," Aria chortled, baiting the beast. "Pride goeth before a fall. And baby, you're about to hit rock bottom."
They defended, then quickly turned the tide against the weakened creature. The demon dropped to its knees and suddenly, with a rush of wind and light, Marethari was once again there, on her knees in front of the idol. Merrill rushed to her.
"Da'len," Marethari breathed.
"Keeper!" Merrill cried softly.
"You've beaten it, da'len," Marethari said, struggling to get to her feet. "You are so much stronger than I imagined. The demon is dead."
They stood looking at each other for a few tense seconds. The scene felt... Off to Aria. Merrill seemed to sense it too, as she did not get any closer to the elven matriarch. This... Was a trap.
"Keeper, I..." Merrill started.
"Let's leave this awful place. The clan should hear the good news," Marethari continued.
"You told us that the demon was bound to your life," Aria interjected then, stepping closer. "It would only die with you."
Merrill approached the Keeper, who glared hatefully at Hawke. "Ir abelas, Keeper," Merrill said, producing a dagger and swiftly jamming it into the Keeper's chest—straight through her heart.
Marethari fell, blood and light swirling around her in a macabre sort of beauty. The body of the Keeper violently convulsed for a few moments, but then, the air rushed from her lungs and she was still. Aria jumped at the sound Merrill's dropped dagger made when it hit the floor, having slipped from fingers too numb to grasp it any longer.
Merrill fell next to her on her knees, her eyes going over the dead woman's form in shock. "Keeper!" she wailed. "What have you done! I don't want this! I never wanted this! Creators, please let this be a bad dream!"
Aria stood there, absolutely stunned. No one else moved, all of them just as petrified and shocked as Aria. They watched the scene play out before them, Merrill's agony a potent, bitter, painful thing.
"I'll wake up and feel like an idiot, and she'll scold me for not listening," Merrill's voice echoed throughout the cavern.
Finally able to move, Aria stalked up to Merrill, righteous fury radiating through her. This was senseless. This could have been avoided. This was... A terrible injustice. For all the fondness Aria had for Merrill, this... This was the breaking point. Merrill had done more than kill the woman who raised her, believed in her, mentored her. She'd destroyed an entire clan. She'd ruined a way of life. She'd...demolished a sacred part of their history that could never be recovered. It was inconceivable. Unacceptable.
"Exactly which part of 'don't talk to demons or awful things will happen' did you fail to understand?" Aria venomously snarled.
"If there was a price to pay, I should have paid it! She had no right to interfere!" Merrill snapped back.
"She had every right!" Aria screamed back. "You were being a total fucking fool! She loved you! She would have done anything to keep you safe! And she did—she died for you!"
"Why couldn't she have believed in me?" Merrill shrilly sobbed.
"That...was the noblest thing I've ever seen anyone do," Anders whispered brokenly, then snarled, "The world is poorer for having you in it instead of her!"
"For once, we agree on something," Fenris rasped.
"This never should have happened! I... I have to go to the clan. Someone needs to know. Needs to come...take care of her," Merrill whispered.
Aria sighed and watched Merrill slowly trudge towards the entrance. Aria knelt beside the Keeper, who had been a friend of hers. She gently wiped the blood from Marethari's face, tears streaming down her cheeks. Not wanting the Sabrae clan to find their Keeper in a crumpled mess where she had fallen, Aria tenderly repositioned her, bringing her arms up to cross over her chest. As she did so, a few items fell from the Keeper's belt.
"She's... Not going to be needing any of that any more," Varric sadly stated, kneeling down to assist Aria. He passed the items off to Anders, who stowed them in his pack. Aria kept the coins that fell, however, intending to give them to the Dalish. Coin was hard enough to come by for the wandering elves and they'd need it in the days to come.
Aria stood, looking down at the Keeper, a woman whose only crime in life was loving Merrill too much to let her suffer the consequences of her mistakes. A love that was not reciprocated. A love that was, to Aria, undeserved. Aria snarled to herself at this and turned to leave the cave.
Fenris regarded her with that trademark unfathomable expression, his eyes intense. "You cannot save her."
"I didn't have to. Marethari already did. Hopefully her sins will teach her the error of her ways, now that she's officially lost everything," Aria whispered. "Come on. I doubt the Dales are going to take this news kindly."
Fenris huffed to himself and fell into step beside her. They convened with Merrill outside the cave just as a group of the clan's hunters crested the rise. Aria sighed heavily and looked between her companions, who all rested their hands on weapons, ready to spring into action should it be called for. They could be in for a fight, and this was one Aria hadn't the stomach for.
"We know the Keeper came here," said a tall, strong-looking hunter with blond hair. He was dressed in beautiful leathers, fine mail, and carried a beautiful long sword. "What's going on?"
Merrill sniffled and looked down at her feet, wincing. "Fenarel... The Keeper—She..."
A brunette, female hunter stepped in then, spitting at Merrill's feet. Her amber eyes shot hateful darts at the mage. "Look at her Fenarel! She's covered in blood!"
The blond elven hunter stepped forward, facing off with Merrill. "What have you done, Merrill?" he snarled. He proceeded past her to the mouth of the cave then, calling, "Keeper! Can you hear me?"
"She's dead!" Merrill squeaked, screwing her eyes tightly shut as a bone-wracking shudder went through her.
"I should have guessed you'd turn on her!" the brunette, Ineria, shouted, crossing her arms over her chest as if to keep herself from flying apart. "You monster!"
Aria stepped in here, needing to defuse the situation before things got out of hand. She didn't want any more needless blood shed. Even if Merrill deserved it. "This was a tragedy. I promise you, I'll make sure no one else is hurt by Merrill's blood magic."
Ineria rounded on her, furious. "You expect us to take the word of a shemlen?!"
"Stand down, Ineria," Fenarel said then, sidling up to the other hunter. "She was our First once. The Keeper... Loved her. More than she loved the clan, it seems."
"Fenarel, I'm sorry," Merrill pleaded, throwing herself to her knees before him. "I never wanted this! If I could have saved her, if I could have died instead—I would have!"
"Words are cheap," Ineria spat. "That you're still breathing says enough!"
"Enough, Ineria!" Fenarel barked, then turned to Hawke. "Human, take Merrill away from here. See that she doesn't return."
"As you wish," Aria replied, crossing her forearm over her chest, then snagging something from her belt. "Here—it was on the Keeper. I'm sure she would have wanted the clan to use it." Aria tossed him the coin purse and he deftly caught it, nodding once at the party before he and the other hunters disappeared down the trail.
Fenarel mimicked her, his arm over his chest, then, he motioned for the hunters to leave. A few cast baleful glances back at Merrill as they departed, but nodded to Aria. Aria watched them go in silence, waiting for them to get a good head start before they followed.
Once more, her rage at the injustice, at the senseless loss set her teeth on edge and her blood boiling as the waiting gave her time to think, to review what all had just happened. She balled her fists at her side and walked to the edge of the outcrop on which the cave's mouth stood. She stared hard into the distance, letting the cool mountain air temper her anger. Aria couldn't bear to look at Merrill.
"Thank you, Aria," Merrill's voice came softly from behind her.
Aria ground her teeth and clenched her fists harder, her nails biting harshly into the meat of her palms but she held her tongue. The litany of curses she wanted to hurtle at Merrill would likely push her past her own bounds and she just might choke the life out of the stupid little mage herself.
"Aria, please..." Merrill continued. "I-"
Aria whirled then, ochre eyes flashing dangerously, every muscle as tense as a piano wire, ready to snap. "You!" she bellowed. "You! You, you, you! That's all you fucking care about, Merrill! I put my reputation and my life on the line for you, Merrill! I came here to protect you! I came here as your friend! You wouldn't listen! That woman loved you! She died for you!"
"I'm sorry!" Merrill shrieked, sobbing.
"No!" Aria raged, stalking over to elf, who was trembling uncontrollably. "No, Merrill! You aren't sorry—not yet, but you will be. You took the offer of a demon, Merrill. You broke the cardinal rule of magic. You may have escaped paying the price for now but you will pay for it! Mark my words!"
"What do you want me to do?" Merrill pleaded, dropping to her knees before the enraged Champion.
Aria glared down at her, her hands shaking, her breathing heavy. She stumbled a few steps back, catching herself on the rock face next to her, closing her eyes to get a grip on herself. She'd never been this angry before in her life. It overwhelmed her, made her sick. She gasped, the heat of the fury stealing her breath and she could neither expel it nor draw in more. Her heart was broken for Marethari, for the clan, for Merrill herself. The horror of the entire situation, the injustice of it... She could scarcely fathom what all had just happened. Merrill—had betrayed her family, let the only person in this world who cared unconditionally for her take the fall for her selfish pride. Fenris came to her then, his arm going around her waist to steady her.
"Breathe," he whispered. "Breathe, Aria."
Aria did, realizing she'd been holding her breath. She took great, heaving gasps of air and slumped against him, her head suddenly reeling. She refused to look at Merrill, afraid that if she did, she might actually kill the elf. She clung to Fenris, burying her head against his chest. He held her, glaring into the far distance, his own emotions roiling.
Varric and Anders looked on in stunned silence, their gazes shifting between Merrill, who had flung herself to the ground and was crying piteously and Aria—whose rage had all put paralyzed her. Varric looked to Anders, whose gaze was riveted on Aria.
"Justice," he whispered. "Justice will be served for this."
"Yeah... I think we've had enough of abominations today," Varric wryly replied. "C'mon. Let's get Daisy on her feet and let the elf handle Hawke."
"Yep," Anders chirped in agreement. "We'll need to give the camp as wide a berth as possible."
They shouldered Merrill to her feet and started to slowly wend their way down the trail. When they too had disappeared, Fenris gently pushed Aria's shoulders back so that he could look into her eyes. They were bloodshot with the intensity of the tears she'd shed, slightly swollen. Her face was flushed crimson and her jaw muscles clenched and unclenched rhythmically. She was still furious, but without Merrill there to stoke her fury further, she begin to come down.
"Come. Let us leave this place," Fenris quietly rasped, guiding her to the path.
ooooooo
Camp that night was a dismal affair. Merrill retreated to her tent as soon as it was set up, refusing to come out even for supper. Aria had not said a word since the tongue-lashing she'd delivered to Merrill. All she could do was stare sullenly ahead, her eyes not seeing. She did eat the food Varric placed in her lap, but she did so mechanically. A necessity only.
Varric, Anders, and Fenris ate in silence, contemplating the day's events, unable to say anything that someone else wasn't thinking. When supper was done, Varric took out his pipe and passed his wine skin around the fire. They all drank until it was empty, and he then grabbed another one. Varric was never unprepared for tragedy.
"I'm going to go...bathe..." Aria said at last, breaking the silence.
"Do you wish to be alone?" Fenris asked, ignoring the surprised looks on Varric's and Anders's faces.
"I... I don't know. You can join me if you wish," Aria distractedly stated, moving to her pack to dig out her toiletries satchel. She fetched some clean small clothes and started for the stream.
Fenris watched her go, then turned to the other companions. "We'll be back."
"Take your time," Varric saucily stated, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.
Fenris sneered at him, then sprinted after his wife.
Anders sighed once the elf was well and truly out of earshot. "What a fucked up day."
"You said it," Varric said, drawing a puff on his pipe and handing it to Anders.
Anders accepted it, nodding his thanks, and took a long, slow draw before handing it back. He coughed a couple times, thumped himself on the chest as if to clear it, then sipped from the wine skin. "I've never seen Aria that angry."
"That wasn't anger," Varric coughed. "That was pure, undiluted, unadulterated, cold fury."
"You think she would've killed Merrill?" Anders wondered aloud, casting a glare at the blood mage's tent.
"I don't think we're out of the woods yet," Varric replied.
"It's... So stupid. Senseless. How else did she think was going to end?" Anders sadly said, looking up at the night sky above them. It was overcast and there weren't any breaks in the cloud cover. Aria would be less likely to linger in the stream without open heavens to goon at. But then, Fenris had gone with her and lately... He shook his head, effectively cutting off that trail of thought.
"Honestly, Blondie?" Varric asked. "I think Merrill meant this to be a one-way trip."
Anders coughed. "That's even more ridiculous! To what end? How would that even begin to justify all of this?"
"Ask Daisy. I haven't the foggiest," retorted the dwarf darkly.
"I'll pass," the mage snarled.
"Got any cards?" Varric asked after a moment.
"You have to ask?" Anders laughed, reaching for one of his packs.
Varric grinned broadly. "Shuffle up and deal."
They'd been up and down this mountain and this road so many Maker-damned times, Aria could have navigated the way to the stream in her sleep. And she practically did, startled when she reached its banks and she couldn't remember the walk there. She heaved a morose sigh and started stripping. A twig snapped to her right and she whipped her head up, only to find Fenris approaching, the noise he'd made deliberately to ward against startling her.
They waded out to the deepest part of the stream together, taking turns with the shampoo, conditioner, and soap. Once they were clean, they swam together up the stream, then back, just enjoying the time together. When they reached the banks, Fenris helped towel her off and she returned the kindness. They dressed quickly, both shivering from the cold water, even though Fenris had flared his brandings several times.
Still, without a word, they walked back to the camp, arm in arm. When they returned, Anders was holding a narrow lead against Varric in a lightning round of Wicked Grace.
"That was...fast," Varric said as they entered the firelight, his lips turning up on one side in a salacious smirk.
"Deal me in," Fenris snarled, settling himself on a makeshift log stool. Aria threw a blanket on the ground before him and sat between his knees, her head resting on his thigh, her back against the log. She ignored them all, content to just be near the elf's unnatural warmth.
"Make way for the high roller," Anders quipped, offering Aria a soft smile when their gazes met. She didn't return it, though she nodded in acknowledgment.
"You want in, Birdie?" Varric asked, shuffling the deck and preparing to deal. Aria shook her head. "Alright."
They played a few hands of Wicked Grace, Varric emerging as the winner, and then retreated to their tents for the evening. The day's events had taken too heavy a toll, and none of them wanted to dwell any longer than absolutely necessary. Dreamless, deep, beautiful sleep claimed them all, despite the chill in the air and the horrors of the day. They all simply slept until the sunrise woke them. They hastily made their way back to Kirkwall and came through the gates late in the afternoon on their third day gone—happy to be home and happy to finally get some distance from the blood mage.