I am so sorry this has taken me so long to post. With everything going on in my life right now plus other projects I have going, I'm afraid this fic got put on the back burner. Anyway, thanks to everyone who has been willing to hang with me even with the delayed postings. I really appreciate it. Hope you enjoy!
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The feel of his scarf around his neck again made him feel much more comfortable. Damien tightened the rope holding the boat's sail steady as the small vessel glided over the waters of Lake Calenhad. Leliana had her place near the bow of the boat while Neria stayed closer to Damien since he still needed from healing magic from time to time. On the trip to the circle tower, they had to sail against the current, but as luck would have it, the wind often blew in the opposite direction. True, it made the waters a little rough in some areas, but it made the trip easier.
"The boat was an excellent idea. If we had taken horses, the trip would have taken three days at least," Leliana said leaning back and letting the sun hit her face.
"Careful how much sun you get, Leliana. Don't want to burn right?" Neria advised.
"Relax Neria. This is the most relaxed bit of traveling that we are going to have for a while. Enjoy the time," Damien suggested taking out a small line and a fishing hook. He took a small piece of cheese from his rations and packed it onto the bard before tossing the line in the water.
Kept an eye on their progress and adjusted the rudder when he needed to, but for the most part, they were sailing at a fairly fast clip. The fishing just gave him something to pass the time with while the girls enjoyed the view from the water. Leliana and Neria talked some but not as much as he had expected, he decided that he would join in and see what information he could get out of Leliana. He felt like this was his best chance to learn more about her past.
"Hey Leliana, did you ever do anything like this when you were back in Orlais?" Damien asked pulling on his fishing line.
"Oh yes, my mistress had a beautiful pond and we would talk in a boat for hours telling each other stories," Leliana said smiling back at him.
"Is that what inspired you to be a bard? Oh sorry, I meant minstrel." Damien watched her reaction to his 'mistake' and there it was. The slight twitch in her eyes and the genuine surprise on her face as if to say 'how did you figure it out'. "You were a bard. I knew you were too skilled to just have picked up your skills on the road. You were trained by someone."
"Yes I was," Leliana stated. It looked to Damien like a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders as she spoke. "My teacher and mistress was named Marjolaine. I loved her with all my heart, but she betrayed me."
"I'm guessing this betrayal brought you to Fereldan and forced you to seek shelter with the chantry," Damien said, tugging on his fishing line gently.
"Yes. I had found documents that said that she had been selling secrets , proving she was a traitor to Orlais. I did not believe it so I brought them to her. Not long after, I was arrested for her crimes and the same documents were produced as evidence, but they had been changed to show that I was the traitor instead." Leliana appeared on the brink of tears. She must have truly loved her life in Orlais as a bard, but at least now there were no secrets between them. He felt like he could trust her completely now. However, he needed to make her feel better.
"I'm sorry, Leli. That must have been hard on you," Damien said softly.
"I'll be alright. I have a wonderful life now and I would not trade it for anything," she replied smiling back at him.
"Well, how about a song? Something all of us can sing to. I know that sailors sing on long voyages to pass the time and keep their spirits up," Damien suggested.
"That sounds like fun," Neria agreed smiling over at Leliana. She must have been seeing what Damien was trying to do. She did specialize in healing and restoration magic after all.
Leliana smiled and started humming a very familiar tune. As she sang the first verse, Neria joined harmonizing beautifully. Damien found himself so taken in by the tune that they had already made it through half the song before he managed to join in on the chorus.
000
Night had fallen over the small boat and Damien woke to Neria and Leliana talking. He had not meant to fall asleep but since they had not woken him, they must have still been on course and making good time.
"I am surprised. You never spent time with him other than talking and passing glances?" Leliana asked. Damien raised an eye brow trying not to let them know that he was awake for no other purpose except curiosity. He wanted to know what the girls spoke about when they thought he wasn't listening.
"He was a templar. I didn't want him to get in trouble," Neria protested. Maker, they were talking about the templar they rescued near the top of the tower. Cullen was his name if Damien remembered right. He knew Neria had feelings for the man, but what could have brought this subject up.
"You at least stole a kiss, of course," Leliana taunted.
"Well, um... yes," Neria admitted. Damien could see the young elf girl's ears turning red even in the dark.
"Wonderful. I am quite happy for you," Leliana said softly clapping with excitement.
"I can't ever return to see him now, especially if I become a warden," Neria said lowering her gaze.
"I am sure that is not true. Even as a grey warden I am sure you could return and see him again," Leliana stated. Damien fought his urge to jump in, remaining in his comfortable position and trying to go back to sleep, his curiosity sated.
"I hope so. Do you think Damien has fallen in love before?" Neria asked. Damien could feel her eyes fall on him as he did his best to breath normally.
It was a good question. He had certainly been smitten with a girl a few times in his life, but most never gave him the time of day usually just becoming friends before fading to nothing but memory. Although when he thought about who mattered the most to him, Bethany's face popped into his head. It was not all that surprising but he had not known her long enough to fall in love, had he?
"I am sure he has, but he has had a difficult life. You saw the scars too I'm sure," Leliana stated. Damien adjusted his head with his eyes still closed trying to not let them know he was awake.
Damn, his scars covered him from head to toe and he remembered the story that went along with every one of them, although he had been known to embellish a little if the occasion called for it.
"Scars on the body are often paired with scars on the heart. I would not be surprised if Damien had an even more colorful past than he lets on," Leliana continued.
"I haven't heard much about him from anyone. How long have you known him?" Neria asked.
"Not long at all. Him and the other wardens showed up in Lothering a few days after the Battle of Ostagar and I joined them then. None of us have known each other long at all," Leliana answered.
"But the way that everyone can work together, it seems like the group has been together for a long time," Neria said softly.
"That is thanks to Damien. He's brilliant both on and off the battlefield," Leliana replied. Damien turned himself over and faked like he was just then waking up, rubbing his eyes and stretching.
"Maker, that is just as uncomfortable as the desk was back in Redcliffe," Damien announced sitting up. In the moonlight, he could see the silhouette of the tower on the horizon. It would still take some time to get there, but judging from the dimming stars and lightening eastern sky, they should pull up to the docks before noon.
"You two get some sleep. I'll make sure we stay on course," Damien said putting his arm over the rudder and the other hand in the lake letting the water rush through his fingers.
Truth was he knew very little about any of his companions. He understood how they fought, whose style complimented who, and how they meshed well in battle, but personally, he knew very little. He had no idea what had led them to join him or what had happened in their pasts that led them there. As a theif, when he worked with others, if was better not to know them as long as they stuck to the plan, but in battle, plans changed and knowing people's triggers, breaking points, stress levels, and mental stability helped a commander figure out their strategy. To become a commander that was capable of defeating the darkspawn, he would have to get closer with everyone. Learn what made them who they were instead of simply understanding what they were in that moment.
As he predicted, the boat glided up next to the dock at the ferry crossing beneath tower as the sun reached the center of the sky. Damien stood and waved for Leliana and Neria to follow.
"First, we get the mages on board with saving the kid, then while they prepare, we'll visit the tavern and pick up mail and drop off my letter," Damien said patting his side pouch.
"It has only been a few days since we were here. I doubt the Circle has recovered much," Neria said looking up at the tower as it pierced the sky.
"If we can get just a half dozen mages and enough lyrium to fuel the spell, we will have all we need. You, Daylen, Morrigan, and Wynne can stand in to help sustain the magic and we have some lyrium in the cart back in Redcliffe. With just a little help from the circle, we should have the power we need to save Connor," Damien said as they approached the door.
"But if you are planning to use all of us to cast the spell, who is going into the Fade?" Neria asked causing Damien to glance back at her.
"Me."
000
Damien sat hunched over the bar with a pint of mead in his hand. The First Enchanter had been easily convinced to lend his aid and luckily for Damien, or maybe the luck was on Connor's side, three other senior mages were well enough to travel and willing to help. Knight-Commander Greagoir had even offered some of their lyrium stores as well as two templars to secure Jowan and Connor once the spell had been completed.
Neria had seemed to want to protest against his plan to go into the fade on his own to hunt the demon, but he was not giving her the chance. He had her getting more supplies with Leliana so he could drink in peace and read through the few letters that had come for him. There was one from a merchant that wanted to meet with him to discuss something about recovering something that had once belonged to the Wardens and another from Slim back in Denerim giving him a little information about some of Loghain's movements. Apparently news of Damien's survival and quest to gather allies for the Wardens had gained attention, not just from Loghain but from nobles that were fighting against Loghain. It was good to know that the Wardens still had some friends. Damien would have to find a way to approach them. On top of that, there was talk about the crows being called into Denerim by Loghain. No doubt Damien was the target.
The last letter intrigued him. It was from an old acquaintance from his time in the south western region of the kingdom in the foot hills of the Frostback Mountains. Her name, or at least what she went by, as White Fox. She explained that she had come by a rather interesting artifact and the means to obtain it. The only problem was the village that held the artifact was right in the path of the advancing darkspawn horde. She had heard that the Dark Wolf was active again and thought that he might be interested. He was not all that interested in a heist, but that fact that White Fox had gotten in contact for help with a job did interest him. She specialized in stealing weapons and weapon designs. If she had her eyes set on something so valuable that she would rather ask for help than risk loosing it, it might be useful to him and his group. He certainly had the coin to buy out her half of the take. It might be worth checking out.
He was about to finish off his pint when a conversation at the other end of the bar caught his attention. A knight in dirty and rough looking clothes was talking to the barkeep about someone called Brother Genitivi and the Urn of Sacred Ashes. He must have been a Redcliffe knight.
"You've got the wrong place," the barkeep replied, but Damien could see fear behind the man's eyes mixed with a little sorrow. There was something that he was hiding. Even the air felt a little heavier and Damien could see a few of the patrons making discreet moves. It made him uneasy to say the least.
"Excuse me, sir knight," Damien said waving the man over.
"How can I help you?" the man replied politely. He looked like an orge had used him as a chew toy before throwing him in a swamp. Damien could only imagine how hard it was for the man to stay up right and proper despite his hardships.
"I actually just came from Redcliffe. I'm guessing you are one of Arl Eamon's knights. You really should return. There are a lot of things that have happened that you are not aware of," Damien said finishing off his pint. The second the urn left their conversation, it seemed like the rest of the tavern went back to normal. In fact, the exact moment that the crowd relaxed was when Damien suggested that the knight go home instead of pursuing his quest.
"What do you mean by that?" the knight exclaimed slamming his fist down on the bar.
"Its hard to explain, but the short version is the village was attacked. There are a lot of dead and missing including most of the castle staff. My company and I will be taking up the search for the Urn as well, so you should return to your post at the castle," Damien said turning to face the man. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted a man leave. He knew it. There was something going on regarding the urn in this place. Some secret they were keeping or a clue they were hiding.
"Why should I trust you?" the knight snarled. Obviously his eagerness and worry for his Arl had caused his politeness to fall away leaving only an anxious and desperate man behind.
Damien reached inside his tunic and produced the Warden pendant allowing the man to take a close look. "I'm the Warden-Commander and I am doing everything in my power to make sure that the Arl, his family, and every other person in Redcliffe survives. Hand to the Maker, that is the honest truth," Damien said replacing the pendant inside his shirt and raising his other hand.
"I thought all the Wardens were dead, wiped out at Ostagar," the knight stated looking Damien over suspiciously. Damien wondered how he would prove who he was if the pendant wasn't enough.
"Commander Damien, the mages are about ready to leave. They said that with a few wind spells, we could make it back to Redcliffe in a day or so," Neria reported stepping to his side. Damien smirked. Her timing could not have been better.
"Thanks," Damien said before turning back to the knight. "Want a ride back to Redcliffe?"
"I am afraid that I must return to the quest I was sent on. The urn must be found," the man stated bowing.
"I understand. My people and I will be joining you soon, I'm sure. Would you mind telling me what you've learned so far so that we don't have to retrace your steps?" Damien asked smiling. He stood and waited for the knight to join him. The man sighed and stood obviously tired but willing to cooperate at the very least.
That feeling... in the pit of his stomach... he knew this feeling... It wasn't darkspawn or blood magic. This was something far more familiar to him. Blood lust. Someone... no, some group of people wanted him dead. This was no coincidence. Either the crows had gotten to him faster than he expected, or there was another group that was after them. If the latter was true, they had to have information about the urn.
As he and his two companions approached the door, Damien looked back at them and paused. "When this door opens, be ready to fight," Damien stated grabbing a throwing knife from his pouch. Neria's eyes widened as she lifted her staff. The knight looked like he was crazy and Damien really couldn't blame him if he thought that way, but the man placed a hand on his own sword as well.
The door opened and the trio stepped out in to the afternoon sunlight only to be met by a half dozen, heavily armed men.
"Your quest ends here, heretic," one shouted drawing his weapon.
"Neria, stand back and keep an eye on our friend here. I'll take the three on left," Damien stated drawing a dagger. His wounds still had not fully healed from the battle at Redcliffe, but that certainly wouldn't stop him. He did wish he had his lighter weapons with him, but as long as he fought conservatively he would be able to win. Keep his movements to a minimum and make his strikes quickly.
Charging forward, he felt like time was slowing down for him. He could see the whole field, the way their attackers were moving, who would target him first, and even where he needed to hit in order to make the quick kill. But should he kill them? They might know where the urn was. Maybe leave one or two alive to extract information? But what did he know about interrogation? The only time he ever was involved with extracting information was when he was the one who suffered for what was in his head. Maybe his knowledge of what it was like to be asked questions would help him form his own.
Using his right dagger, he blocked a blow meant for his shoulder before hurling his throwing knife into his opponent's foot pinning him to the ground. His now empty hand caught the wrist of the second thug and guided the sword away from him as he plunged his dagger into the man's neck. His momentum carried him forward as he spun his body and drew his other dagger. His pinned opponent would be free soon. He needed to finish off his other target quickly. Charging forward, the last of his targets raised a giant battleaxe over his head and started to swing down at him. Damien smirked as he rolled to the side and slashed the man's knee as he passed. Using his magic, he stopped himself right behind his opponent and drove both dagger through the man's back. This was not the first time he had killed another human being, but this time it felt different, like Damien was the savage bloodthirsty one, not his opponents.
Glancing in the direction of the knight, Damien noticed him struggling against his targets. He must have been trained to fight in one-on-one matches rather than against groups. Damien charged forward once more slugging his pinned opponent in the jaw just as he managed to get the knife out of his foot sending him to the ground. Damien doubted the man was out of the fight, but hopefully this scrap would be over before he was back on his feet.
Flipping the daggers in his hands so the blades ran along his forearms, Damien drove his right blade through the neck of another attacker and the left down between the collar bone and shoulder blade of another. Blood sprayed out covering his face and scarf as his hood fell away.
"This fight is over, friend. Surrender, or Maker help me, I will end you right here," Damien growled ripping his blades free flinging some of the blood onto the last man standing. The knight took a step back with his eyes wide. The last thug looked around for only a moment before dropping his sword.
"Wise choice," Damien said sheathing his blades and wiping his face with the bottom of his sleeve. "Neria, Sir Knight, please see to it our guests behave themselves while I'm gone." Damien pointed back to the man with the injured foot who was starting to try and stand up.
"Where are you going?" Neria asked taking a bandage from her bag and tying their captives' hands with it.
"The only reason I knew that we would be attacked just now is because of the way people were acting inside. I want to know why no one warned us and just how many knight have met their end at the hands of these bastards," Damien snarled. He needed to keep his head clear. As the leader of the wardens he needed to have his wits about him constantly, but right now, even with his body aching and his breathe burning from the fight, he wanted answers and by Andraste's ass he'd get them.
Damien nearly ripped the door off its hinges kicking the thing open. The entire tavern turned to look at him. He must have been a sight. Blood covering his face and armor. Maker knew he had not gotten all of it off with his sleeve.
"Any of you bastards want to tell me why I just walked into an ambush? I know that at least three of you knew what was about to happen!" Damien roared drawing his daggers once more. A few people started to get up but but Damien hurled his left dagger across the room so it stuck to the frame of the back door. "Sit down!"
The tavern froze. No one even breathed, all eyes fixed on the young warden-commander. Damien took only a few steps into the tavern keeping the front entrance blocked.
"As of right now, everyone in here is considered an accomplice to the thugs I just killed outside, unless you can convince otherwise," Damien snapped. For a second several people started to move toward him, but he immediately stepped back into a fighting stance raising his dagger and drawing a throwing knife. "Not all at once. You first." Damien nodded to the man closest to him. It was obvious the guy was a trader from his clothes and the smell. As much as traders traveled, they kept clean since they dealt with customers.
"I'm simply passing through on my way to trade in Danestead. I swear to you, sir, I have only been here a single night," the man pleaded.
"I believe you. Please step outside so if something happens you don't get hurt," Damien stated nodding toward the door as Neria entered with Leliana at her side.
Damien talked to each person individually and let most of them go except for three; the innkeeper, a traveler named Keeble, and a stranger that refused to answer any questions Damien asked.
"Leliana, if any of our guests move, pin them back in their seat with an arrow. Your choice in what body part you pin," Damien said smirking. He hoped she understood what he was doing. She was a bard after all. Games like this were probably second nature to her.
"Small targets are more fun," she replied taking an arrow and tapping the tip between each of the men's legs. Damien couldn't help but smile. She was playing the bad guard very well. He was even scared to cross her.
"So," Damien started squatting down in front of the innkeeper, "this is your place, so you must know everything that goes on here. I'm guessing my drinking buddy out there wasn't the first Redcliffe knight to come through here looking for the urn. Why didn't you warn us those thugs were going to attack? Oh and in case I'm not being clear about the stakes, they nearly killed me, so I have no problem removing body parts to get the information I need." Damien dug the tip of his dagger into the seat of the chair the man was sitting on so the blade scrapped against the innkeeper's britches.
"They told me that if I tried to warn anyone that asked about the urn that they would kill me and all my tenants. I couldn't put all my customers in danger. I'm sorry, Commander," the man begged. Damien removed the dagger and pat the man on the shoulder.
"Truth has liberating and I can see that you regret letting the others die, but you did have a reason for it. Of these two fine fellows, which one started staying a day or so after they threatened you," Damien asked pointing to the other two.
"Him," the barkeep said nodding to the nameless stranger.
"What's his story?" Damien asked gesturing to the other.
"Like I told you, I'm a traveler. I'm just resting here before I decide where to go next. The roads aren't safe, what with the blight and all," Keeble cried flinching as Leliana walked around behind him tapping her arrow on his chair.
"That's not all. He was really interested in you, Commander. Asked several times in the past few days about where you might be. Paid for a month in advance," the innkeeper added.
"Oh really?" Damien said taking a piece of cloth and tying the nameless man to his chair. "Are you a fan? I know I am an amazing warrior... Oh wait a minute, you don't want... sorry friend, not into men." Damien made exaggerated hand gestures and struck several poses eliciting a few stifled laughs from Leliana.
"That's not it. I... I am a fan," Keeble stated. Damien sighed. He could tell the man was lying. The way his eyes shifted, his body language, the way he cocked his head, it was all screaming that the man was talking out his ass.
"That better be the last time you lie to me, or I'm going to start by removing you thumbs with that fork," Damien snapped pointing to a wooden utensil on a table.
Keeble stopped talking almost immediately. Damien smirked and leaned in a little closer. Keeble was nervous. If he was a spy or a hired scout, he may have not had the training to keep himself concealed depending on his employer. Although, if he worked with a group that was after Damien and his group other than their normal enemies, they might have a problem.
"Tell you what, you have two options here," Damien informed him retrieving the wooden fork. "One, you tell me the whole truth and you and I will discuss it over a nice pint on me. Two, you lie to me or don't say anything and I cause you pain until you are begging for me to end your life. Oh and just so you are aware, I learned everything I know about torture from Fort Drakkon in Denerim, so use you imagination." Damien took a breath and rolled his neck slightly before placing the prongs of the fork on the nail of the man's thumb.
"Wait, wait, wait, I'll tell you everything. I swear, everything," Keeble pleaded.
"Talk, and if you lie even once, we go back to the fork option," Damien said lifting the utensil off his hand.
"I was sent here by Arl Howe. He found out that a criminal was communicating with the Warden Commander through this tavern. I was supposed to learn when you came and went and if you were using it as your base. I sent a letter yesterday saying that you had not been seen in several days and the investigation was on going," Keeble confessed.
"That wasn't too bad now was it? Congrats Keeble, you no longer work for Loghain. You work for me. You will tell him only what I want you to tell him. You'll also be reporting to me any movements of his troops, allies, and any darkspawn activity you hear of. You will forward all reports to Redcliffe on a weekly basis and as well as any mail that comes for me, understood?" Damien ordered looking Keeble square in the face.
"Understood," the man said nodding fiercely.
"Excellent, anything urgent comes up, forward it to Recliffe right away," Damien added patting the man on the shoulder. "Now, as for you,"Damien stated turning back to his nameless captive. "You, me, and your buddies that survived outside are going to have a chat."