Chapter 69: The Killers
"You do not like me very much, do you young man?"
Theron's elven ears twitched, he preferred to stand the nights watch, when Sten or Shale was busy anyway, usually when he did, he drew Wynne as his partner.
It was not a situation he enjoyed.
He had no problem with the old mage, but at the same time…she could be very…prickly. She was often lecturing Alim and Alistair on their duty, the Dalish had no desire to hear such things himself. Theron Mahariel was not the most dutiful of Dalish; he had often tried the patience of his elders. Keeper Marethari had hoped that Merrill would provide a calming influence on him, help him grow into a man like his father had been.
So far that had not happened, and now…thanks to the taint…
…it seemed like it never would.
"I have no problem with you elder," he said quietly, his eyes scanning the darkness for any threats. They would arrive in Orzammar tomorrow afternoon, but Alim had warned them that the Pass here was a good place for ambush.
He had no desire to have them be caught with their trousers down.
"Yet, you still do not like me?"
Theron sighed.
"I…I do not like humans in general elder," he replied, "I know we are in this fight together, and I will do what is expected of me, but…"
"But?"
"Humans saved my life, I accept that," he said, "But at the same time, your kind is also the reason I am here. We caught a group of you moving too close to our camp. We made them squawk, they told us of the cave where Tamlen and I…"
Theron shivered, his ears lowered in pain.
"The cave where I was tainted," he growled, "I managed to escape, but not with my life. Our Keeper could only do so much, I…I left for the good of my clan. Merrill did not want me to leave, but I…I did not want my emma lath to see me die that way, better I die in the forest than bring more doom down upon my family. The wardens found me, and took me into their clan, but I likely will never see my people again, never see Merrill again."
He gave her a cool look.
"I will honor my people by serving, but do not think that I enjoy what I do. I would happily return to my people if I could."
Wynne nodded.
"It is not an easy thing leaving ones family," she agreed, "But I still do not see how this is my fault."
The Dalish shook his head.
"The mirror…the…object that tainted me, it was Tevinter in origin, the wardens told me that much. The shemlen mages stole them, used them, caused them to break and become tainted." The young elf frowned, "Your ancestors destroyed mine; the shemlen mages broke the elves, now we either wander as outcasts or live as beggars in your cities."
"The Tevinters perpetrated many evils young man," she said, "That does not mean that we all are responsible for what happened to your people."
"Is it not a greater sin when good people do nothing?" he asked, "Most humans see my people as either slaves or servants. Alim's parents were servants. Kally's father was as well. Zev…well…Zev is unusual, his life harder than even I can imagine, but I can't help but wonder might it have been different. Now, two of Ferelden's three remaining Grey Wardens are elvhen, we are expected to save all of the shems from the Archdemon, there is a certain irony in that."
Wynne laughed lightly.
Theron's ears twitched.
"Did I say something funny elder?" he asked.
"Ironic," the old woman smiled, "You are not the first young person to ask 'why me.' When I was young, when I realized that the only life I would ever know was in the tower, I grew incredibly morose, moody even."
She smiled at the memory.
The young warden gave her a curious look.
"You seem to have accepted your burden."
"It took time," she admitted, "Time, faith, and patience I came to realize that I could find fulfillment in my life through my duty to others, that their happiness could be my happiness. I will never know the simple pleasures of life, love, family, that was not the path that was meant for me, or for you I imagine."
Theron sighed.
"I would have happily spent my life hunting with my clan," he said, "Being a good mate to Merrill and a father to our children, if the Creators had blessed us with any."
The elf shook his head.
"I never asked for this."
Wynne gave him a sympathetic look.
"None of us do lad," she replied sadly.
"None of us do."
IOI
Leliana lay in her tent, moaning softly. She tossed and turned in her sleep.
She had had no visions since she had been injured in the tower; she had thought maybe the Maker was done with her, that he had finally taken the cup from her lips.
She had been wrong.
A new vision came to haunt her…
…and she was afraid.
The village burned around her, misshapened monsters lurched passed her, they killed everyone around her, and those they killed rose, rose and attacked their neighbors. Friends, family, lovers, these bonds did not matter. Death was the great equalizer, and it always hungered for more.
She found herself alone, alone and unarmed. She…she ran, there was nothing she could do. She could not help these people now.
One of the dead staggered into her, knocking her to the ground.
She gasped as she realized that she recognized him.
"Tug?" she whispered.
The undead dwarf did not respond this…this was not her old friend anymore, her fellow bard; he gurgled and raised his weapon.
She swept his feet out from under him and bolted for the chantry, the building was the strongest place in the burning village, the others had not made it, but maybe…just maybe she would.
She leapt through the door; a lone sister slammed the door behind her.
Leliana lay on the cobbles, gasping for breath, thinking that the worst was over.
She was so wrong.
She glanced up at her surroundings, these rooms; these walls did not belong in any chantry.
She shivered.
She was back in Denerim, the sights and sounds so familiar, even after so long.
This was her master's safe house in Denerim, the place they came after they had broken into the Arl of Denerim's estate.
The sister offered her a hand up, in her shock and exhaustion she took it.
The sister pulled her to her feet…
…And stuck a dagger between her ribs.
Leliana gasped, she cried out in pain.
Her eyes fell on the sister for the first time, they widened in horror.
"You were perfect My Pretty Thing."
Marjolaine held her as her life ran out.
Her old master laughed happily.
"I told you we were the same."
IOI
"WAKE UP!"
The words brought her out of the horrible vision, the sound of voices calling out in the darkness.
Theron's the strongest among them.
"WE'RE UNDER ATTACK! EVERYONE UP!"
Leliana scooped up her bow and daggers; she darted out of the tent, fearing an attack by the monsters from her dreams.
A horned giant swung a huge maul at her, she rolled under his attack, she spun slitting his throat before he could recover.
The camp had become a battleground.
"Morrigan dressed only in one of Alistair's shirts blasted away at the attackers with arcane bolts. Sten and Shale waded into group of Mabari their handler directing them to attack the mages. Alistair was engaged with a small man with a staff, a jet of flame nearly consumed the former Templar.
Theron shot the mage in the neck, he fired again and again.
Wynne stayed behind him, using her magic to keep everyone in the fight.
Oghren was a terror, roused from a drunken sleep, the dwarf swung his ax ruthlessly, any foolish enough to get in his path were immediately cut down…
And still the dwarf taunted their enemies, daring them to come, daring them to attack him!
Seri fought back to back with Zevran, while Kally and Gus provided aid where ever it was needed.
So far they had been lucky, it seemed that everyone still alive, still fighting.
Leliana's eyes widened.
Where was Alim?
Thunder rumbled overhead, a cold wind swept over the next wave of attackers, turning the rock of Gherlen's pass into a treacherous sheet of ice.
Leliana knew how dangerous that could be; she had nearly fallen to her death on this path a few months ago.
It was then that she saw Alim, Bandit stood guard at his master's side. The elf must have been asleep in his tent when the attack began, bare-chested, dressed only in his trousers, his skin glistened in the cold rain, sword and staff in hand; he directed the storm against their attackers. He flicked like a candle, arrows passed harmlessly through him. A spell taught to him by the arcane warrior whose soul they saved in the werewolves' temple he had explained to her.
That was not what drew her eyes though now.
The bard eyed him hungrily, she…she knew it was an inappropriate time, but she could not help it. Alim…he…he looked good.
She cursed how her body warmed at the sight.
Most of their camp was in flames, the attackers were clearly not here for thievery, they sought the death of the wardens and their allies.
Leliana's brow furrowed as she brought down an archer trying to target Morrigan. She pulled her own sword and dagger.
These attacks were a far too common, they needed to end.
She waded into the fight.
Too many in Ferelden wanted the wardens' heads.
That number was about to get a little smaller, Leliana swore, but sword or staff.
This attack would end.
IOI
The captain of mercenaries was the only survivor, brought low, by Alim's winds, he gasped surrounded by enemies.
He looked around nervously, realizing how close to death he was.
Alim regarded his tent with an angry growl.
It was burnt, and everything in it.
The elf's eyes narrowed dangerously.
"My hat was in there," he snarled, "I liked that hat."
Leliana giggled nervously.
"Way to prioritize Lim," Alistair smirked.
The elf turned to their prisoner.
"Any last words scum?"
"Alim stop," Leliana said.
He turned to her.
"What?" he said, "why?"
The bard's eyes narrowed dangerously.
"This man is no common bandit, none of these were, their armor and weapons are of fine make, and they are well trained."
"So more of Loghain's bounty hunters, big deal," Alim shrugged.
Leliana approached the captain, his fancy armor was more than a simple bounty hunter could afford.
"Who are you?" she demanded.
The man chuckled.
"Someone who regrets taking on you lot," he coughed, "This…this was supposed to be an easy job."
He looked straight at Leliana.
"Kill the red haired girl; do with the others as we please."
Leliana's eyes widened.
They…that had come for her!
Thunder rumbled loudly overhead, Alim looked…well… he looked enraged.
"Hope you like lightning," he growled at the merc, "No one touches her while I'm…"
"Alim please," Leliana whispered, her voice slipping into soothing tones.
"Let me handle this, please."
The elf snorted, but obeyed.
"Only because you asked," he whispered warmly.
She smiled at him.
He might have blushed, she could not be sure.
She turned to the mercenary again.
"Why am I wanted dead?" she asked, even though she already suspected the answer, vision or no vision.
Marjolaine.
It had to be Marjolaine.
"I never asked the why," The man said, "All I needed to know was the location of my target, and where to collect my money."
The man laughed fatalistically.
"Money…I'll be lucky to walk out of here with my life."
"In that you are quite right my friend," Zevran said flipping a dagger in his hand, "Fortunately, the wardens can be merciful to those who have something they need. I suggest you take their offer, it is better than the alternative."
"The mercenary sighed.
"My life for information then," he offered, "Is that a fair trade?"
Leliana looked at Alim, her eyes pleading with him not to go berserk over this.
The elf nodded.
"Your enemy, your call sister," he replied.
She nodded in thanks.
The man carefully pulled out a piece of parchment, and set in on the ground before them.
"Directions to the house, we were to return once the job was done, it is in Denerim."
Leliana picked up the paper, the fact that she knew where this house was did not surprise her.
It was Marjolaine's old safe house; she could almost see her old master waving to her.
Hello my pretty thing.
The bard sighed, she felt that old rage come back, the memory of Marjolaine's betrayal, what that bastard of a lover of hers had done!
Leliana definitely felt that old hatred…
…The desire to take her revenge.
No one crosses a bard and lives!
"Thank you," she purred to the merc, "Now…leave, I never wish to see your face again."
The man nodded scurrying away down Gherlen's Pass.
Alim approached her; he put a hand on her arm.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
She allowed herself the guilty pleasure of staring at his body.
She smiled weakly.
"I will be once this is settled,' she said.
He looked at the paper.
"Your old master," he asked.
She nodded.
"How do you know she won't run?"
Leliana almost laughed.
"Marjolaine won't run now," she said, "I l know her too well, this was a…invitation of sorts, she will wait for me in Denerim."
Leliana's eyes turned cold, her smile savage.
"I would hate to disappoint her."
Alistair offered Alim his cloak, the elf looked like a child in it, but he nodded gratefully.
"Who is Marjolaine?" he asked, "And why does she want us dead?"
Leliana sighed.
That was a long story, Alim already knew it, and perhaps it was time for the others to know it as well.
No secrets between comrades-in-arms…
…or, between friends.