Finley had thought that Garrett was joking when he'd mentioned a golem in Skyhold. She knew that such things existed, had heard stories handed down and down and down until she was never sure how many of the facts were accurate and how much had been tacked on over the tellings. Giants of stone that towered over all other creatures. Beings that could fell a tree with a single blow. There'd been a few stories about magical ones too, but she wasn't sure how that would work.
After all, dwarves didn't have magic. And they were the ones who made the golems, weren't they?
However, she'd known that they were a thing and that they were related to dwarves, and when Garrett told her he'd met one, she'd simply taken in a slow breath and then told him she'd talk to him in the morning.
She wasn't sure why she'd offered him that much. She didn't like him at all—between killing Ser Barnebus and being an annoying prat and saying those things about Cullen…
Things that seemed a bit too true.
Well, she wasn't sure what it was that made her offer him some of her time, but she did.
She'd half expected him to come collect the second that she woke up and came out of hiding—she'd opted to sleep in the rafters above the kitchen, feeling it would be safe enough from prying eyes.
All while she dressed and haphazardly redid her braid, she'd expected a knock on the door, followed by incessant chattering. She'd actually taken to musing over whether she might be able to pull off her own version of Donovan's polymorphism spell when the knock finally came.
At this point, the sun was already beginning to bathe the valley and castle in light, and as Finley went to the door, she half wondered if perhaps it was one of her advisors who had come for her rather than Garrett—with the whole Denerim matter dealt with, she wasn't sure if Josephine would want to continue etiquette training every morning or not. They might instead choose briefings or reports or…
Another knock sounded.
Solid and firm, it reminded her Cullen and the way he was always so sure of himself.
Maybe he'd had time to think things over and…
When she opened the door, Alistair gave her a short bow, smile in place.
She tried to smile back at him. After all, he was a warden, and the Hero of Ferelden. He deserved a proper greeting.
"I thought you could use the morning off," Alistair said, as soon as she had shut her door behind her. With a grin he offered her his arm.
Finley blinked a few times, wondering if this might be some odd dream—it didn't seem like the Fade—and then gingerly reached out and took his arm, not sure if she was actually supposed to or not.
However, as soon as she did, he began to lead her down the stairs.
"I heard Garrett last night, offering to introduce you to Shale."
She barely heard his comment. She felt oddly embarrassed to be escorted down the stairs as she was. Part of her was convinced it was a trap and part of her was scolding herself for being so wary of a hero like Alistair. He'd been nothing but kind to her thus far. When she realized it was peering down at her, she tried to focus. "You mean the golem?"
"The one and only." Alistair's smile was back as he leaned a bit toward her. "They helped stop the Blight, you know."
"Really?" A small part of her bubbled with the excitement at meeting another hero who had saved her Wilds, but even that fell short this morning. Kind as Alistair was, and exciting as it was to meet another hero, the morning was inexplicably bland.
She tried not to think about it.
Alistair was quick to recount different adventures with Shale, and how Dev had been fascinated to not only meet a golem, but one who had free will. She tried not to feel lonely when she saw how lovingly he looked when he talked about the Warden-commander.
As they talked, he led her through the courtyards, down toward the gates.
When she saw the golem, Finley stopped in her tracks. The stories did not do the creature justice, and it took a nudge from Alistair to start walking again.
As they approached, the golem—Shale turned toward them, glowing eyes registering Alistair first and then turning to Finley.
Despite the stiff stone of their face, she could feel the creature judging her.
After a moment's appraisal, Shale looked at Alistair and motioned to Finley. "It is very small to lead an army, though not as small as our commander, I suppose."
Finley blinked. If it were any other day, she might not have been bothered so much by Shale's comment, but today she couldn't help but feel slighted. Bristling a bit, she stood a little taller, not that that did much of anything next to the stone giant. "I don't lead an army."
"If the inquisition is not an army that will fight back the red, then I have no reason to be here."
"We are fighting red templars," Finley said quickly, feeling a little foolish. Alistair said Shale was here to help, so why was she being so abrasive? Her fingers twitched, hands already lifting to redo her braid. Remembering how Josephine had been trying to break her of that habit, she crossed her arms instead to keep herself from fidgeting so. "Commander Rutherford leads the army."
"And it leads the commander." Shale pointed a massive finger at Finley.
As she tried to think of how to respond to that, it occurred to her that she really was leading an army. At least for now.
People had sided with her instead of Cullen and he had…surrender wasn't the right word, but it was all that came to mind.
He had given in.
Though she was rather certain that he would come back with more protests—he was a stubborn sort—at least for now, people were listening to her.
She missed whatever it was that Shale said to Alistair during her revelation, but snapped out of her thoughts when a small bird tried to land on Shale's shoulder. The golem's hand moved quickly to smack the little creature, though it ended up catching Finley's arm instead, as she launched herself upward and blocked the blow.
The bird flew off in a panic, and Finley cast a heal on her arm as she dropped back to the ground. Shale had eased up in the last second, but the force of a rock hitting her arm into another rock had caused some damage. As her spell numbed the pain and worked on mending cracked bones, she glared up at Shale. "What's wrong with you?"
"With me? I should think there is something wrong with it, as it is so quick to volunteer to be made to paste."
"You can't hurt birds."
The golem's eyes narrowed. "What?"
"They are small and sweet, and you will not hurt them while you're here." Finley crossed her arms again, her spell already fading the bruises before they could fully form. Of all the things a hero might do, she'd never imagined hurting a bird to be on the list, and she felt oddly betrayed that Alistair had brought her to meet this creature.
"They are pests."
Finley could hear frantic cries of injured birds in her ears, and she shuddered at the sound, forcing her memories down. "If you think so, then get out."
Alistair was the one to step in at that point, angling himself between the two so that he was facing Finley. "Shale can be a great help—"
"What good is help if they're going to hurt innocent creatures?" Finley's hands were on her hips. This had to be some kind of trick. A trap. Something. "The whole point of the inquisition is to protect, is it not? That is what I intend to do. I realize you may think that just applies to humans and elves and dwarves, but it doesn't. There are a great many lives that people dismiss simply because they don't speak or act or look like we do, but they are important none the less. Do you have any idea the problems the rifts have caused? The demons destroy entire environments and then the animals have to overcrowd another area that they're not as suited for, all the while people are being driven into their territories and—"
"Make it stop," Shale rumbled. "I will…" the creature's annoyance was clear as they shifted their weight, stone limbs scraping against stone body, "make an effort to give the winged-demons a chance to get away before retaliating. I promise no more."
That anyone could refer to such gentle creatures as demons… Finley let out a low hiss. "You will take that back."
Shale, however, merely cocked their head. "What does it see in those feathery monsters, I wonder?"
It took all of Finley's self-control not to root Shale in place or set a tree after them. When she spoke, her voice was low. "They are not monsters."
"Shale is going to go with me," Alistair interjected. As both golem and mage turned their attentions toward him, he gave Finley a reassuring smile that seemed a bit weaker than before. "I may have a lead as to where my fellow wardens have gone. Garrett and Isabela are coming with me…and Shale. We're heading off to a desert, so the chances that there will be any birds harmed along the way are next to none."
Finley narrowed her eyes at Alistair. "'Next to none'?"
"No birds will be harmed on our adventures," Alistair corrected himself.
At that, Shale let out a dramatic sigh. "This is absurd. Must I watch myself just because this flitting little thing wishes to defend such inconsiderate tormentors?"
Even as magic flickered to life around Finley's fingertips, Alistair stepped fully between her and Shale. "Shale was immobile for a few years—"
Shale scoffed. "More than a few."
"—and birds, well, they rested on our dear golem quite a bit and—"
"They had loose bowels," Shale finished, glowing glower in place.
Finley relaxed a little, though she still glared back at the golem. "If you were so still, they likely didn't know better. You can't blame them."
"I blame all of them."
"We should gather our things," Alistair said before Finley could cast a spell, patting Shale on the arm and then turning away. "It's going to be a long trip."
Finley turned away with him, appraising the golem one last time. She could hold her temper, if only for Alistair's sake. He was friends—somehow—with that horrid golem, after all. "I'll be watching you. If you hurt so much as a feather…"
She left her threat open-ended to allow for musings.
Well, and because she wasn't sure how to threaten a golem. Shale was very large and very hard and…
Hopefully she wouldn't need to figure out any type of retribution.
Alistair parted ways with her shortly after, offering her a quick wish for a good morning before disappearing around a corner. As she headed up the stairs, wondering what her next move would be while Alistair tried to hunt down the missing wardens, she heard her name called and stopped.
Again, she hoped it might be…
Mother Giselle hurried over to her. She should have recognized the voice, known it wouldn't be him.
Perhaps that was for the best. She knew better than to get too attached to people, especially outside of her Wilds. This was just a harsh wake up call.
"Inquisitor, might I have a word?" Even as Finley bristled, wary for whatever might come—more arguments against Cole, more introductions to people who hated birds, more titles she didn't want—the revered mother stopped in front of her, a practiced smile in place. "It's about Altus Pavus…"