CHAPTER 14

..x..

Author's Note: Thank you to all of you reading so far! Special thanks to those who have left me reviews (looking at you Paul Lenzen and Judy!) and added the story to your favs. That you enjoy it so much brings a smile to my face, especially through the tough times we're all going through :). Stay safe, stay healthy, and take care!

Everil dropped her bag and gazed upon the snowy peaks of the Frostback Mountains from the edge of the cliff by which they were to camp, frigid air blowing through her hair. They had been traveling for days and were finally nearing their destination. It was difficult to tell how receptive the dwarves would be to their visit, as she'd never been to their territory in the past. Still, she hoped the lessons she received in her youth—those that spoke of their culture and their history—would be enough to help them recruit their help.

They had the Grey Warden treaties, but there was no guarantee the dwarves would keep their word as well as their ancestors did during past Blights. They were prideful people, reclusive in their ways. Few ever ventured out from underground, and those who remained on the surface never returned to their kingdom, shunned as outsiders.

"We should be arriving in Orzammar tomorrow."

Her head turned to Alistair as he stood beside her, hands on his hips as he too looked at the frozen mountains.

She blew up her bangs. "I only hope we'll get the support we need and still have time to help the arl."

"Don't worry. We will." Giving her back a quick, reassuring pat, Alistair returned to the middle of their clearing, where they'd already gathered wood for their fire. Her eyes followed him as she smiled, his newfound confidence bringing up her spirits.

Everil picked up her camping gear and stepped to her chosen spot, taking a knee to begin unraveling her tent. Bjorn took a seat beside her and watched her work, yawning noisily and licking his chops.

"Tired, boy?" she asked with a chuckle. They'd been riding on horseback, but her hound had to walk for some time, the incline making it difficult for him to hold on to her saddle.

He barked in response.

Footsteps approaching made her look their way as Leliana strode in their direction, having completed setting up her own tent. "I saw some wild chickens on our way here," she said, pointing over the shoulder with her thumb. "I wager they will make a nice, warm stew. Would you like to join me for the hunt?"

"Sure. I have to finish this first, however."

"Here, let me help you," Leliana offered, kneeling beside her to take one of the wooden poles.

.x.x.x.x.

The setting sun cast shadows over their path, turning the sky orange, yellow, and pink. Both women trekked through the woods, side by side, wielding bows and arrows as they scanned their surroundings. Bjorn led them, sniffing the ground while taking sharp turns around bushes and trees.

"How fortunate Bjorn has such a great nose. It might even be near impossible for us to get lost," Leliana commented quietly, grinning at the dog's stubby tail.

"That may be so..." Everil chuckled softly as a memory came to her. "You know, that reminds me of the time I lost my way in the woods several years ago. Bjorn was but a pup back then, so he wasn't as good a guide as he is now."

"Truly? That is almost hard to believe. How old were you, exactly?"

"I was thirteen. It happened during a hunting trip with my family. I didn't have as much experience tracking in the woods, but had the bright idea to venture out alone." She laughed a little. "I was lost for four days..."

Leliana offered her a sympathetic look. "Oh, you poor thing! That must have been so frightening."

"Actually, I didn't mind much. My mabari pup kept me company. And when one is that young, it's quite easy to be overconfident in your abilities… Which is what got me in trouble in the first place, I suppose."

"How did you find your way back?"

"Greta, Bjorn's mother, was my father's mabari. She led him to where we were," she said before letting out a chuckle. "I'd strayed far away from camp when trying to make my way back, therefore making it more difficult for them to find us."

"What a scare you must have given him," Leliana said with a giggle.

"Yes. I felt terrible when he found me. He was so worried..." She smiled wistfully, recalling her father's warm embrace. "What made me feel worse, however, was my mother's reaction to the news. Maker knows my father never heard the end of it since. "

The bard's gaze softened. "You miss them, no?"

"I do… every day," Everil uttered sadly, then sighed, staring at the ground. "My apologies. It was not my intention to dampen the mood."

"Don't worry about it." Leliana gave her head a shake, red hair swaying with the motion. "I know they may not all be happy memories, but nevertheless, it makes me glad to know you feel comfortable enough to share them with me."

"Thank you." Everil smiled at her. "What about you? You speak of many legends in your songs around the campfire, but you must have had some interesting experiences of your own."

Leliana paused for a moment, and she couldn't tell if she was hesitating or thinking about which memory to discuss with her. Aside from the occasional reference to her once caretaker, the nun's past was practically still a mystery to her and the others. She told them about Orlais, their fashion, and politics, but never really discussed anything personal.

"I am afraid that aside from serving and playing music for the lady of the house, my childhood was not as exciting as yours." She lowered her bow and tapped her finger to her chin. "Hmm… I once accidentally poured varnish oil instead of honey in a noble's cup of tea."

Everil laughed. "Andraste's mercy! How did that happen?"

"I had been polishing a table prior to Lady Cecily asking me to bring the tray of tea. Her guest's name was Baroness Isabel, a lady of a respected house in Orlais. Her dress was so extravagant, it was both distracting and fascinating—with its bows, ribbons, and pearls. I still remember it," Leliana sighed dreamily as she reminisced and giggled, picturing it. "I simply could not look away… As you well know, varnish oil and honey look very alike, especially when using the corner of your eye to pick up the bottle."

Everil smirked expectantly. "So did she drink it?"

Leliana grinned, leaning in as she spoke. "She took a sip and spat it out… on my face!"

The Warden laughed. "Oh, that's terrible!"

"Of course, she was unhappy, but Lady Cecily calmed her down soon after. It had been but a few days after my mother died, so she used that to justify my lack of focus," Leliana said with a shrug, gazing up at the trees before letting out another giggle. "Needless to say, I have not placed honey and varnish oil on the same table since."

The two chuckled, smiling at each other as they continued their trek through the woods. At this point, their small hunting trip had become more of a friendly stroll. It was with Leliana that she felt the most comfortable when compared to Morrigan, who was always so cold and distant. Leliana was like a warm ray of sunshine, so calming and inviting—even with her many secrets. Her company seemed to ease any stress and make you drawn to talk to her about everything and anything. Everil figured it was in part because she still had this minstrel's aura about her, someone with whom you want to be around and relax while listening to their songs.

After a moment of brief silence, Leliana's soothing voice spoke up again. "You seem so much happier lately… Alistair too. Your relationship is wonderful to see. Like one of those romantic novels Lady Cecily used to read."

"Ah… thank you." Everil glanced at her, pink tinting her cheeks as a corner of her lips went up. "Though Morrigan didn't put it the same way... To say the least."

"Don't listen to her... I do not mean to sound rude, but someone like her would never understand. Morrigan has been alone for so very long, that she is blind to what others need to feel—to what feelings even mean." Leliana paused in her steps and looked to the sky once more, watching the stars begin to poke out from the fading orange veil. "Everyone needs another to make them smile once in a while… Even someone as strong as you." Her gaze then returned to her, a shadow of sadness over her beautiful blue eyes. "I am glad he makes you happy… I wish you both the best."

Everil almost didn't know what to say, the emotion she could see on her features making her pause. "Thank you, Leliana…"

As if sensing she'd given too much away, Leliana's smile turned brighter. "By the way…" she placed her hand on her shoulder, giving her a catlike grin. "I am curious... Is he good in bed?"

A chuckle escaped her at the unexpected question. She bit her lip and looked to the ground, suddenly feeling bashful. "Uhm… Allow me to just say… He is much better than I imagined a man would be."

"Oh, so he's your first?" Leliana gave her a teasing grin.

Everil nodded, her face turning a deeper shade of red.

"Aw… That's so romantic..." Leliana sighed dreamily and released another sultry chuckle. "Considering the sounds coming from your tent, I suppose he must be quite experienced at it too."

"One would think..." The Warden bashfully looked away.

"Wait…" Leliana gasped, a hand going to her own cheek in wonder. "He was a virgin too?"

"Yes…" Everil twirled a strand of her wavy hair between her fingers. "And yet I feel confident enough to say that his performance is not affected by that in the slightest."

"Oh… So he's a natural..." Leliana nudged her arm with her elbow, wiggling her eyebrows. "Lucky you, Evy."

Everil let out a small giggle of her own. She had never spoken about sex to another woman, mostly because she never had that sort of relationship with anyone before now. Throughout her life, friends were handpicked, rather than made naturally—all for the sake of appearances. Both her mother and her sister in law never really talked to her about such things. It was all protocol. Everything planned to the last detail, adhering to laws that were not truly written. And she found her experience with Leliana quite liberating. As if she were free to be herself around her.

The loud bark of her hound interrupted their conversation, making the two look its way

"Did you find something, boy?" Everil prompted, preparing an arrow while Leliana followed suit.

Bjorn approached a rustle in the bush ahead and barked again, forcing out what was hiding within. It shot out like a bolt, their heads whipping around as it ran. The hound chased after it with giant leaps, quickly leaving the women behind.

"Oh, blast it!" Everil went after it.

Leliana did the same. "They're headed for camp!"

.x.x.x.x.

"Quit staring, you perverted elf."

"I am simply admiring your beauty, Morrigan." Zevran grinned seductively at her, leaning forth to rest his chin on one hand. "Though, I fear looking will be bad for my health."

"Well, you should be afraid, fool," Morrigan muttered moodily, tossing the herbs she previously gathered into a pile with the rest of her supplies. Somehow she hadn't had enough room to put up her tent farther away from the rest of the group, their camping spot being too small. Now, she was stuck setting up her tent too close to the rest of them.

"Why?" Zevran folded his arms as he sat nearby, watching her work with a foxy grin. "You pretend to be cold, but I'm certain there is hot passion in you yet."

She shot him a dark look. "You know nothing of me."

"Oh, come now. I'm sure a tough woman like yourself could make any man whimper in bed," he teased further.

"I can make you scream now if you wish."

"Careful, Zevran. She's not joking."

They turned their gaze to Alistair, who was sitting on a log by the fire. He poked the coals with a stick, adjusting them before tossing more wood in. He was usually the one working on their campfire, possibly because he found it relaxing.

"I do not need your help, Alistair," Morrigan retorted with a scowl. "Mind your own business."

"Whoever said I was trying to help you?" He smirked at her, aggravating her further. "I just think it would be inconvenient for us to lose one of our much-needed party members because of you."

"I appreciate your concern, Warden," Zevran snickered, sarcasm at the edge of his voice. "However insincere it may be."

"Yeah, you're welcome," he scoffed. "Just don't get used to it."

"Now, now all of you," Wynne gently chastised from her spot by her tent.

A bark in the distance drew everyone's stares just as a large chicken burst out from the edge of the woods, chased closely by their hound. The group tailed the bird with surprised eyes as it ran through the camp in a panic, stumbling over cooking utensils and potion bottles. It squawked in fright when Bjorn jumped over the obstacles, opening his jaws as he neared its tail.

The chicken made a sharp turn, hysterically flapping its wings while making the hound slide over the dirt and grass. Everil and Leliana ran into the clearing just in time to see it rush towards the large rock body standing in its path. A decision it came to regret when a giant slam shook their camp, bringing the temporary chaos to an end. Everything fell silent.

Awed and in shock, Everil stepped up to Shale, gazing down at the red mass of bone, feathers, and blood now smearing the grass. She almost felt sorry for the poor animal. "Uhm... The idea was to have the bird for dinner tonight… But I suppose we can settle for bread and cheese again, instead."

Shale—who they found out was female after a brief conversation about decorative stones—tilted her chin up arrogantly. "It's not my fault its hunting skills are terrible."

"Not terrible... We were only distracted," Everil protested with mild irritation. "You know, that was a little excessive. Why would you kill something like that?"

Rock ground rock as there was an almost imperceptible shrug. "I was frozen in place for decades in that little village. Unable to move nor speak. I was but a statue in the town square while the villagers lay feed for the birds."

Everil frowned, folding her arms. "I don't see how that relates to crushing a living creature like this."

Shale bent over to her level, glowing blue eyes narrowing. "Had it ever stood in one place long enough for those wretched little creatures to soil its person? Each. And. Every. Day?"

Realization dawned upon her and she curled her nose with disgust at the mental image now in her head. "Oh…"

"I thought so." Shale leaned back up, the menacing glare turning into a condescending look.

After a moment—and to the golem's surprise—Everil grinned up at her, a twinkle in her eyes. "When we face the darkspawn, make certain to imagine them with giant chickens sitting over their heads."

Shale blinked, then responded skeptically. "Certainly…"

"All right, everyone…" Everil regarded the others, smiling apologetically. "At least waiting for dinner to cook is no longer necessary."

.x.x.x.x.

By the time they were done eating, the sun had completely disappeared behind the horizon. Most of her group gathered around the fire, watching the next sparring session between Everil and Zevran, who had traded their weapons for sticks. She had significantly improved her offensive maneuvers within the last couple of nights of practice. She'd once been deemed one of the best warriors in Highever. Now, she realized that such preconceptions had limited her ability to expand her knowledge beyond what was taught to her.

Everil ducked as Zevran struck sideways, but instead of continuing on the defensive, she used the evasion to counter his attack. She kicked forth from her kneeling position to quickly strike his side with her makeshift weapon, drawing a grunt out of him.

"Sorry," she muttered, but continued her assault, forcing him to retreat out of the way of another swing.

"Don't apologize. It won't happen again!" he bit back with a diagonal strike.

She leaned sideways, dodging the attack before using the same motion to twist around and kick at his feet. He backflipped to avoid it, then darted forth, bringing his sticks down in a stabbing motion, only to hit air when she rolled. He smirked and kicked downward while she tried to stand, knocking her feet from underneath her. Everil fell on her back and he attempted to climb on top of her. But Zevran was forced to retract when she kicked her feet up and rolled backward, narrowly missing his jaw.

"Everil has quickly become more agile," Leliana pointed out with a smile, sitting between Alistair and Wynne, a half-eaten apple in one hand.

"I didn't think that would be possible," Alistair uttered, Everil's fluid motions nearly mystifying. He'd seen her fight so many times he'd nearly forgotten how well she could move—how fast.

Zevran stabbed forth and she dodged, then in a blink of an eye, she slid her arm under his and across his chest while her leg hooked behind his. Now it was his turn to be surprised and his eyes widened as he fell. He was slammed hard against the ground, her knee on his chest and her wooden weapon touching his neck.

From his spot by the fire, Sten grunted with an approving nod. "A fast learner."

"See?" Zevran smiled up at her, panting for breath. "A great offense is the best defense."

She returned the smile and stood, dropping her stick to offer him a hand. "Thank you, Zevran."

"My pleasure," he replied, letting her help him up. He didn't let go afterward, however, instead kissing her knuckles. "Aren't you glad you let me tag along back in Denerim?"

She shook her head with a hopeless chuckle, gently withdrawing her hand. "Maybe a little."

He grinned playfully in return.

Everil then turned to the others. "I think I've kept us up long enough. We should probably go to sleep soon, so that we are all well-rested. The trek through the Frostback Mountains will probably be strenuous, but I would prefer it if from now on we avoid unnecessary stops until we reach Orzammar."

"I do not believe sleeping in the middle of the freezing snow would be much fun regardless," Wynne offered, rubbing her hands. It was already chilly as it was, as the gusts of wind traveled down from above.

"Why not?" Alistair smiled at her. "We could all cuddle up for warmth. Like one big happy family!"

Wynne let out a tired chuckle. "Now that would be a sight to behold."

Morrigan scoffed. "I would rather freeze to death."

"Oh, Morrigan…" Leliana smiled sweetly at her. "You will warm up to us yet." At which the witch rolled her eyes and turned on her heel, heading back to her corner of the clearing.

.x.x.x.x.

As expected, the higher they went, the colder it became. The heavy snow-covered every slope and boulder, freezing everything it touched. Everil licked her cool lips, her cheeks and nose flushed from the frigid air. Blowing wind picked up their cloaks as the Wardens led the others up the steep path, their horses struggling to climb while huffing steam from their nostrils.

They were getting close to Orzammar now, the city within the mountain, where the dwarves lived sheltered from the world outside their dwelling. Not many of them lived on the surface, and those who did usually used the craftsmanship they learned in Orzammar to become merchants, selling weapons and armor throughout the surface cities and towns. But the dwarven people were not only known for their blacksmithing abilities, but they were also known for their resilience in battle. And Everil knew they would become a powerful ally against the darkspawn, provided they honor the treaty.

"So we will be visiting the dwarves…"

"Yes." Everil turned her head to Shale, who was climbing on foot beside them. "We need to speak with their king in order to obtain their support against the Blight."

"Hm… I don't remember much of how that place looked like… It has been so long."

"How long?"

"I have lived for nearly eight hundred years, but I could not tell it for certain. Memory begins to fade after so long."

"Eight hundred years..." Everil echoed, surprised.

"Eight hundred incredibly boring years," the golem muttered with irritation. "One can only witness so much before life becomes stale."

"I can imagine… I didn't know golems could live for that long."

"Golems are immortal. We can only... Die... if somehow destroyed. Which is very difficult to do," Shale said with a hint of pride.

Everil didn't know if she should feel bad for her or impressed by the newfound knowledge. But her tone told her that Shale didn't think that having such a long life was a gift to be appreciated. In fact, it sounded more like she was tired of it.

"I suppose going back to Orzammar may just give me an idea as to what should be my new purpose. Perhaps even help me remember what it was I was doing before that mage found me."

The Warden gazed at her with a subtle frown. "Well… If there's anything I can do to help you, just let me know. I realize we are on a quest, but you are now fighting with us so it's a fair trade."

Shale gazed at her, bright eyes flicking as she blinked. "Very well…"

After several more miles, they finally arrived at the outskirts of Orzammar, where small shops with armor and weapons were set up around the square outside. Further up, between the towering mountain walls, were two sets of stairs arched up to massive, iron double doors, intricately designed to protect the kingdom beyond them.

Everil slid off her horse, feet crunching over the snowy ground. The others following suit. With a tilt of her head to the group, she led them to the nearby stable, where a few other horses were tucked away out of the cold. The dwarf tending the animals approached them at the entrance, visibly counting their mounts while standing at just above her stomach in height. He wore layers of clothing made of brown cloth, and a leather helmet, an axe strapped to his back.

"It'll be five sovereigns per night..." he began with a dry tone, before his eyes landed on their chest plate, spotting the griffon. "Grey Wardens? I thought you were all dead in these parts."

"We don't die off that easily," Everil replied with a subtle smirk, reaching into the small pouch at her belt to pull out the bag of coins. She opened it, looking into it before lifting a brow to the dwarf. "And I was under the impression that Grey Wardens were considered honored warriors in Orzammar. You wouldn't happen to give a discount to such special guests, now would you, good sir?"

The dwarf's bushy, red eyebrows met at the bridge of his plump nose as he scuffed. "Not unless the king himself says so. And he's dead."

Everil's eyes went wide and her heart seemed to stop for a second.

"What do you mean the king's dead...?" Alistair quietly voiced her question, standing next to her with a look that mirrored her own.

"Dead as in... dead!" the dwarf replied gruffly, meaty arms folding over his broad chest. "They say he died out of grief over the death of his sons. It's all everyone's talking about around here. Now hand over the coin unless you want your horses to freeze to death."

The prior shock quickly faded and Everil's expression hardened. "A discount or you lose your job."

"What?" The dwarf's brows furrowed in confusion, then he glared at her. "I already said no, human. There's no king to tell me what to do, so tough luck for you. Now pay up."

"All right, allow me to say it a different way." Everil folded her arms, putting on a stubborn scowl that matched his. "Drop the price or those left in power will hear that the stable master insulted King Endrin's memory by refusing the customary hospitality to one of Orzammar's longtime allies."

The dwarf's eyes narrowed dangerously, nostrils flaring as his brain visibly mauled over her words. He let out a grunt and scratched his bearded chin. "Fine! Four sovereigns!"

"Two sovereigns and five silvers."

"The dwarf grumbled. "Three sovereigns and five silvers."

"Three sovereigns."

"Fine!" He extended his hand. "It's a deal. Three sovereigns a night."

"Good man." She smiled sweetly, unfolding her arms and handing him over the coin "Here's three nights worth, in case we are delayed. I expect to find all my horses well fed and taken care of upon our return."

"Yeah, yeah..." he gruffly replied, pocketing the money before gesturing towards the stable. "Now, just follow the line and pick a spot for them."

The group stepped into the stables, tugging their horses in. "The king's death will complicate things. I doubt they will agree to give us their support without a monarch," she quietly told Alistair as they made their way down the rows of stalls.

"I was just thinking the same thing..." he sighed, rubbing the back of his head before smiling at her. "You could always use your charms... Like you just did with that dwarf."

She chuckled lightly. "I don't think I'm that good, but I suppose it's worth a shot."

.x.x.x.x.

After tucking away his mount, Sten watched the snow slowly fall, mighty arms crossed over his chest as he stood just outside. A hand on his bicep drew his gaze to the Warden, regarding her with the same stony gaze he always carried. It had been difficult to understand how he now followed a human, especially a female. But she'd managed to somehow gain a degree of his respect.

Everil smiled up at him despite the cold look. "I promised we would get your sword back. Shall we look around now before we continue on?"

He was slightly surprised that she yet remembered. Not to mention there were obviously more pressing matters at hand, but she was still willing to take the time to seek out something that was of no consequence to her, yet meant everything to him. "Lead the way," he responded with a nod of his head.

She turned to the others still working on their horses. "Please grab anything we might need. Sten and I have something to do before we head into the city."

"Go on, love. We'll be waiting for you at the gates," Alistair told her from beside his horse's stall, still petting the steed.

Everil smiled tenderly at him. "Thank you, Alistair."

After she and the qunari disappeared around the corner, Leliana released a soft chuckle towards the other Warden.

He gave her a questioning look. "What?"

"You two are adorable." She gave a teasing grin, mirth in her eyes.

"Uhm... Thanks?" Alistair awkwardly scratched the back of his head.

"I happen to think they are utterly nauseating," Morrigan muttered in disgust while stashing potions into her crossbody bag.

"Don't be like that, Morrigan," Leliana pouted at her and then clasped her hands together with a gentle smile. "True love is a rare and beautiful thing. It must be valued and admired. Especially during times of death and misery. As one would a sliver of light at the center of a deep, dark tunnel. I pray that one day you will feel it too."

The witch gave her an odd look and laughed loudly, a hand on her pale stomach. She shook her head, letting out a breath and returning to her task. Meanwhile, Leliana stared at her with a troubled frown as Alistair's hand came to pat her shoulder.

He grinned down at the redhead, attempting to reassure her. "For what it's worth, I think what you said was very pretty. But you happened to say it to the one person who has nothing but a shriveled up weed for a heart."

As soon as his words left his mouth, something came flying at him. Alistair ducked, barely able to avoid it. A bottle of lyrium shattered on the stall behind him, the blue liquid spraying over the wooden door and onto the ground. Morrigan wordlessly lowered her hand, glaring daggers at him before whirling about to face her bags once more.

"Hey!" he shouted at the back of her head. "Don't waste our supplies like that!"

"Oh, do be quiet, Alistair!"

"You be quiet! Some of that stuff isn't cheap!"

Leliana looked between the two in bewilderment, listening to them shout at each other before drawing in a breath and releasing a long, defeated sigh.

.x.x.x.x.

After looking around for a while, Sten and Everil finally arrived at the last of the weapon shops. She absently wrapped her hooded cloak around herself, shivering involuntarily while scanning the items on display. They asked the other shops about the sword, but they hadn't had answers. And she could easily tell they weren't lying, for they seemed genuinely surprised upon seeing her towering companion.

This dwarf, however, didn't seem the least bit shocked, though he was obviously intimidated by the qunari's size. "Looking for something in particular, Warden?" asked the shop owner, who shifted uncomfortably under her scrutinizing stare.

"I am, in fact," she replied firmly. "My friend here lost his weapon a while back. Dwyn from Redcliffe told us you have it. Is this still true?"

Taken aback, the dwarf visibly swallowed. "Dwyn? The sodded liar... Why would I want a sword that big?"

Everil chuckled, crossing her arms. "I never said it was a sword."

"I... assumed," he grumbled.

"Come on. There's no point in hiding it any longer." The Warden tilted her head as if addressing a child, her smile widening.

The dwarf ran a hand over his fat chin. "If... I still had it… what would you offer in exchange?"

"Hmm... Let's see…" Everil tapped an index finger on her arm in mock contemplation. "Does keeping the qunari from crushing you sound like a fair trade to you?"

He cleared his throat, glancing towards the large man. "F-Fair…" The dwarf then reached under his table, digging through whatever it was he had underneath. He produced a large blade and heavily dropped it over the counter, before backing away from them.

Sten's stare quickly widened, arms unfolding as he took a step towards it. Everil observed him, watching him slowly reach for it. His fingers wrapped around the hilt and his muscles tensed as he lifted the familiar weight of the blade, his expression unreadable. "I take it that is it?" she asked with a half-smile.

He brought it up to inspect it, noticing the familiar pattern on the hilt. And suddenly, he felt whole again. For the first time in their long journey, Sten looked down at her and smiled. "Yes."

"Perfect," she beamed. "Give me the one I gave you."

Sten nodded and did as she asked, handing over the weapon he'd been using up until now. She took it and turned to the dwarf before placing it on the table along with a few coins. "This should cover any expenses you incurred bringing the sword here."

"Thank you," the dwarf replied, a little surprised while picking up the coin from the counter. He realized then that her earlier threat was only meant to force him to reveal the sword and take away his ability to set a price, making the transaction completely on her terms. Smart woman…

"Well, now that we're done…" Everil faced Sten, patting his large arm before walking past him. "We should go meet with the others."

"Wait."

She paused midstep. "Yes?"

Sten secured the blade behind his back, then stepped closer. "You have led me with honor when others would have no doubt exploited my situation. And now you have kept your word to me, something not many of your kind do. You returned Asala to me and in doing so have restored my life as a member of the Antaam." He extended a hand, a gesture that was human in origin, but crossed the bridge between their kind. "Know that from now on you are my kadan… a friend in your tongue. I will fight for you and alongside you with pride."

"Thank you, Sten. I'm glad I was able to help you." She gave his hand a firm shake. Earning the respect of such a noble warrior was humbling. But knowing she now had his trust was even more so. Hopefully, this gesture of friendship would last past the Blight and maybe even help their peoples find common ground one day, in a world filled with conflict.