Chapter 11: Campfire Discussions
Alim kept them on the road until just before dark, he had wanted to put some space between them and the darkspawn, but even he had to admit that they were all tired. It had been a hard day for everyone, and with the exception of the Qunari all of the companions were eager to rest.
The Blight could kiss his ass, tonight they would rest.
Fortune it seemed continued to smile on them in their endeavor, they had encountered no more fools interested in claiming the bounty Loghain had posted, Alim hated to admit it, but he had not wanted to kill those men, but they had forced his hand and it had been done, there was no point on dwelling on that fact now. Plus, they had encountered a dwarven trader as they had left Lothering, the poor man and his son had been under darkspawn attack. They had managed to save the two dwarves, and now they had access to even more supplies than before. Bodahn, the dwarven trader supplied them with tents, bed rolls, food, and water, and even had agreed to accompany them, in exchange for them keeping him and his son safe.
Alim was more than willing to accept that offer.
Saving the traders had also been useful for another reason; it allowed Alim to see how their new companions handled combat with the darkspawn. Morrigan's power and haughtiness were undeniable, but she had managed to slay several hurlocks without breaking a sweat.
Sten had proved to be a monster on the battlefield. He struck down more darkspawn on his own then any of the others, unarmored and only with his sword and his bare hands. To say that Alim was impressed was an understatement. He was grateful that Morrigan had suggested that they bring the Qunari along.
Leliana was…well…the sister needed a bit more seasoning in darkspawn combat.
A genlock had managed to get past Sten and attacked the woman directly. Leliana had panicked; the hideous creature was in her face before she could recover. She snapped off a quick shot, and the genlock took an arrow in the shoulder, but it still managed to tackle the sister and get her down on the ground. She fought valiantly, but the darkspawn had come very close to biting her, snapping and drooling as it tried latch on with its teeth and there by infecting her with their taint.
If that had happened, then the poor woman would have been as good as dead.
Alistair had come to her rescue though, bashing it with his shield, knocking the beast off of her, and striking down the darkspawn before it could recover.
Alim checked her over for injuries, but found none; Alistair informed him that she was clear of the darkspawn taint. The Templar had worried a bit when the creature had tackled her. Wardens were after all immune, Leliana was not.
It had gotten far too close; she could have doomed herself with that mistake.
Leliana rose unsteadily, seeing the elf glaring down at her.
She cringed sheepishly.
Alim berated her for it, reminding her that there was no cure for the blight, and had she gotten infected her life would have been over.
The sister nodded, she accepted his fury. She understood that she had screwed up. Marjolaine had trained her to fight, to not show fear or get distracted in the face of a stronger enemy, but a darkspawn was not some city guard, bounty hunter, or knight.
A darkspawn was a monster.
The thing had been so…so horrible; she had not been prepared for how monstrous fighting them would be.
When the elf had finished venting his fury he returned to the dwarves, to make sure they were all right.
Sten gave her a cold look, he did not see her value as a fighter on this journey, Morrigan smirked as she passed, so much for the sister's vaunted fighting skills.
Leliana did not even return the witch's gaze, she felt like a stupid little girl.
Alistair did his best to comfort her, but she still felt like a stupid child.
If she had done that during her training, Marjolaine would have punished her severely.
You must be stronger my pretty thing, fear is your enemy; this one is just something waiting to be killed.
Leliana straightened her back; she would not show such weakness again, the spawn had surprised her this time.
They would not do so next time.
IOI
"Why are we stopping?"
Alim paused, he regarded Sten incredulously.
"The sun is setting Sten," he said with a tired sigh, motioning to the horizon, "We could all use a rest after the day we have had."
The Qunari frowned.
"There are darkspawn to be fought, is this delay needful?"
"We could all use a hot meal and a good night's sleep," Alim responded, "I'm surprised you would turn down the chance to eat after being locked in that cell for weeks."
Sten considered the elf's words, "Your argument has merit," he admitted, "I shall take the first watch."
With that the Qunari took up a position near the entrance to the small clearing, Alistair and Leliana were already starting to get a fire going. Morrigan assembled her strange tent away from the others, it was more of a lean-to than a tent, but the witch had it up before the others had even had theirs unpacked. The dwarves Bodahn and Sandal spread out their own bedrolls and began digging through their cart for their food stores.
Slowly their small camp took shape.
Alim sighed, taking a seat at the base of a large tree. He pulled off his hat, and slipped off the pack he had gotten at the Bann's estate.
The elven mage frowned; he had yet to look through it, to see what his Mother had left for him.
He needed to do it, even though he feared what he might find there.
Bandit settled down near him, he smiled at the large dog, giving him a good hard scratch behind the ears. The hound looked adoringly on his master, happy to simply be near him.
It had been a long time since anyone had been happy to see him, as a mage most people looked at him like he was a plague.
The pack contained several things, his father's old journal, featuring his tricks for caring for the Bann's hounds, Alim could use that, Bandit could benefit greatly from his Father's knowledge.
There were also several old coal sketches of him and his parents. These made Alim smile, the Bann's daughter had had an artistic streak, she was always sketching the various servants and their families.
He found himself staring at a picture of his eight year old self, the elf smiled slightly, even as a boy his ears had looked ridiculous. The picture brought back memories, not all of them unpleasant.
He wondered what had happened to her, he had not asked after her at the estate after all. Had she still been there? Had the servants given her his warning about the approaching horde?
Alim hoped so.
Beneath the sketches he found his Mother's old flute. She had of course been a music teacher, so it was not surprising to find it here. He regarded the old instrument sadly. He had so many memories of her…playing for him when he was sick or simply could not sleep. She had taught him to play years ago, but he had not touched such an instrument in years.
There had been little time for such frivolities in the circle. The study of magic had consumed his every waking hour.
He doubted if he could even play a single note anymore.
He shoved the flute back into the pack.
The final thing contained within was a letter. He recognized the sloping script as his mother's, it had always shocked the humans when they realized that the Lady Surana knew how to read and write. She had been a house servant in Denerim before marrying Father, and her mistress needed her to be literate to do her job.
Alim gripped the letter tightly, his name written gently by his Mother's hand all those years ago.
No…he could not bring himself to read it, not yet anyway.
He slipped it back into the pack, along with the sketches and the flute. It was…nice to have something from his past.
He found himself watching Alistair and Leliana as they started work on dinner; the cook pot they had purchased from Bodahn was already being filled with ingredients for the stew.
The elf's stomach growled loudly. Maker help him, he had never felt so hungry.
He decided to join Sten on the perimeter keeping watch.
He did not want to be thinking about the past right now.
They needed to stay focused on the present, and he needed to make a decision about their future.
Where they were going next? They needed to fulfill the three treaties; he wanted to do that before he went to the nobles of Ferelden. They would need to see that the wardens had more than just scraps of paper with empty promises. He needed commitment of at least one of the factions who had signed. Something he could throw in that bastard Loghain's face.
Loghain likely thought that this was over, that the throne was his, and that he could end the Blight whenever he wished.
Alim intended to show him that he was wrong.
IOI
Leliana watched as Alim rose and went over near Sten. He caught her glance, and returned with an icy glare, she looked away when the elf turned to face her, her face burned with embarrassment after what had happened earlier.
It seemed that there was nothing that she could do that would please the elf.
She turned to Alistair; the ex-templar was lost in thought, staring into the flames with sadness in his eyes.
She did not know everything that had happened at Ostagar, but she had heard enough to know that the wardens had lost many.
How many of them had been Alistair's friends? Perhaps he had had a girl among them?
Leliana's heart filled with pity.
"Are you alright Alistair?" she inquired.
"Huh," he looked up startled; he had not even realized that she had still been sitting there.
"Are you alright?" she repeated.
"I…um…I'm fine Leliana…just thinking."
If…if you need to talk, I am here."
He smiled slightly at her offer, after the last few weeks of Morrigan's hostility and Alim's indifference; it was nice to have someone else to talk to.
Leliana lifted the lid from the pot; she added a rabbit that she had shot earlier today. She tried to remain focused on her work, but the elf's cold gaze kept haunting her.
She did not see what she had done.
Her brow furrowed.
"Why does he hate me so Alistair?"
"Who?" he asked glancing up at her.
"Alim," she said, "Why does he hate me so? What have I done to offend him?"
Alistair sighed.
"I don't think he hates you," Alistair clarified, "I don't think he trusts you, or anyone from the chantry truth be told."
"But why?" she repeated.
"It may just be an elven thing," Alistair answered, "I knew quite a few elves working in the stables and kennels in Redcliffe. Most of them did not like humans very much. When I was sent to the chantry I really found out what their dislike felt like. I met many that still blame us for the fall of the Dales."
Leliana considered this, her involvement with elves was a bit limited, she had travelled only a short time with Sketch before he had departed, and he had been more worried about being an apostate rather than being elven.
She and Sketch had gotten along okay, but Alim was not like him, not like him at all.
She decided to change the subject, these dark thoughts were not helping, and both she and Alistair could use a bit of cheering up.
"Is your family still in Redcliffe?" she asked, "Is that why you wish to return there?"
"No," Alistair said flatly, "My mother died years ago, and my Father…well…let's just say that he didn't want me. I was…inconvenient."
Leliana cursed under her breath, so much for cheering Alistair up.
"I'm sorry," she said weakly.
"Don't be," Alistair chuckled, "It is an old pain, and I dealt with it years ago. There were much better things for me to become obsessed with besides my parents, like cheese, and my obsession with my hair."
Despite herself, Leliana giggled, she recognized that Alistair was hiding behind humor, but it was not her place to confront him on it.
They all had secrets to hide after all.
"What about you?" he asked, "What was someone like you doing in the Chantry?"
"What is meant by someone like me?" she inquired.
"Well I have never seen a sister fight like you before," he admitted, "Or was that just something that Chantry chooses to hide. If the Templars fail do they send in the sisters, are you the Chantry's secret weapon?"
"I was not born in the Chantry you know," Leliana smiled, "The Chantry provides succor, to all who seek it. I…I found myself in Ferelden and took shelter from a storm in the chantry, and after the storm ended…I…I decided that I did not want to leave. I like to think that the Maker brought me here."
"So you learned to fight from your life before?"
She nodded.
"I was a travelling minstrel in Orlais," she said with a wistful smile, "Tales and songs were my life. I performed, and was awarded with applause and coin. As for my skill in battle…well…I girl picks up things when she travels. The roads of the empire were not the safest in the world."
Alistair nodded; he supposed that made sense, still he found it hard to believe that a minstrel could pick up those kinds of combat skills.
Maybe he was just reading too much into this, Leliana had done nothing but help them since they had met her.
If anything, they owed her the benefit of the doubt.
IOI
Leliana sighed, she did not like where this conversation was going.
Alistair was a polite young man, but if he dug far enough, he would likely discover more than she wanted him to.
She was not yet ready to admit her past…not to anyone.
She had done…horrible things in Marjolaine's employ, but that were not the worst of it.
The worst thing was that she had enjoyed doing those things.
She had loved the violence of the game, reveled in it. There had been nothing better than bringing down her mark, whether physically or mentally. How many had she left dead in the streets of Orlais? How many had she broken, taken everything they had valued and left them with nothing?
She shivered; Dorothea had assured her that redemption was possible, that the Maker would forgive.
But was she truly worthy of forgiveness? After everything she had done, did she deserve anything but the void?
Leliana did not know.
IOI
Alim wandered up to Bodahn's cart, he and his son Sandal were busy getting their little camp set up.
"Good Evening master dwarf," Alim called out.
"Enchantment?" Sandal Feddic asked.
"Not now son," Bodahn smiled, gesturing for his son to continue working while he tended to their new protector. Sandal nodded and returned to work.
"Good evening Master Alim," the dwarf said with a welcoming smile, "Is there something I can do for you?"
"Information…I hope," the elf answered.
"Not much a simple trader could tell you ser," the dwarf shrugged, "Not unless you wish to know about business here on the road."
"Actually it is about one of your customers, or potential customers," the elf replied with a smile, "I was curious if you have ever done any trading with the Dalish elves?"
"Once or twice," Bodahn shrugged, "The elves are more likely to trade with a dwarf than a human after all, I encountered a clan not three weeks ago, setting up their camp near the out skirts of the Brecilian Forrest. Their leader was a bit stand-offish, but so are many such leaders I suppose."
Alim grinned.
"Could you find them again if you needed to?" the elf asked.
"I suppose so," the dwarf said.
"Excellent," Alim replied, "Would you and your son like to join us for dinner Master dwarf, I think we need to talk."
The dwarf grinned, "You are very kind warden, what would you lie to know."
"Everything you can tell me about these Dalish, starting with their leader." Alim replied, "Including his name if you have it."
"Of course warden," Bodahn replied, "I believe the Dalish call their leaders Keepers actually, this one's name… was Zathrian."