Chapter 99: Haven
The wardens managed to avoid any further encounters with Loghain forces.
It had taken some doing, but after a brief conversation with First Enchanter Irving, the wardens had been able to convince Kester the ferryman to take them to the far side of Lake Calenhad. Fergus did not doubt that his sister had people watching the roads both north and south of the tower.
The ferry seemed like the only logical way to slip past unseen.
It took three trips, one alone to bring Shayle across, but by the time the sun set, three days after they had first arrived at the tower, the wardens and their group found themselves on the far side of Lake Calenhad. They were once again resupplied and ready to proceed up into the Frostback Mountains.
Spring would no doubt soon give way to summer, but as the wardens and their allies sought the mountain path leading up to the village of Haven the air continued to remain quite cold. The roads here were not truly road either, they were rocky mountain paths more fit for livestock than modern carts. Several times Bodahn's cart had gotten stuck needing Shayle to help lift it out of the mud. The golem fussed about it, but the promise of new enhancement crystals soothed her ego.
A quiet intensity had settled over the group, considering the reavers they faced at the Spoiled Princess months ago, not to mention the false scholar in Denerim, no one knew what to expect when they finally reached Haven.
The tension led to pairings within the group. Friendships and couples had grown up quite quickly in the last few months. Sten and Shayle seemed close, both complimenting each other on their skill in battle. Warriors content to be around one another. Since leaving Lake Calenhad, Oghren had sought out Theron, asking him about his home and his people. The Dalish had not been sure what to make of that at first, but slowly he opened up to the dwarf, both had lost their worlds, and the women that made those worlds matter. Theron would not compare his woman to Branka of course, but like Branka, she was equally as lost to him as Oghren's wife was to him. Wynne stayed close to the Dalish and the dwarf, offering advice and a motherly ear. Surprisingly, both seemed to accept her quite readily. The fact that she had developed a taste for dwarven ale further impressed the dwarf. Theron respected her as an elder, and seemed open to her advice.
You could not come through what they all had without developing at least some friendships, others in the group had moved past that…and on to something more.
Kally and Fergus stuck close together, the noble still fussed over the elf's wounded ear. Kally told him not to concern himself. She did not blame him for his sister's actions, though she intended to make the noble woman answer for what she had done one day.
The two weren't lovers, at least not yet. They cared about each other though. Love could grow from that given time. Zevran and Seri seemed happy, whether what they had was emotional or merely physical, Alim could not tell, not that he wanted to anyway, if the two took comfort from each other, all the better for them.
Leliana bounded ahead of the group, watchful for traps and ambushes. Alim could not help but chuckle at his lover's boundless energy. It seemed that she had found a new lease on life, she was more relaxed now, more confident. Far more than she had been since the night they had first confronted Marjolaine.
A slyness had come over her, in the past she had stepped nervously away from dark matters they faced; now she leapt with barely a thought. When she fought it was without fear, she did what was necessary to stop their enemies. When she and he were together, she loved without hesitation.
A small smile came to the elf's face.
He was not sure what had come over her, but whatever it was, he had little complaint. Few men would complain having a woman so skilled in the matters of the flesh.
Of course not all was well with the group; Morrigan had become quiet, distant. She did not even have the strength for the teasing banter she had shared with Alistair. The warden mage could not shake the thought that something was bothering the witch. He tried to speak with Alistair about it, but his fellow warden was in the dark as much as he.
Apparently, their last night staying at the Princess, the witch had come to Alistair's room. She had seemed troubled, and said that they needed to talk. Alistair, though worried what she might have to say, had said that he was willing to listen to whatever she had to say.
He was always willing to listen.
With eyes shiny with unshed tears the witch had kissed him, calling him a sweet adorable fool. According to Alistair there had not been much talking after that. They had fallen into his bed and that had been that. In the morning he had woken alone, the witch having risen early to prepare for their journey.
The elf frowned.
He wondered what was going on in the witch's head. Normally he would ask Wynne or Leliana to speak with a troubled companion, they were both far more compassionate than some of their members, but he recognized that that would not work on the witch. She had no respect for Wynne, and only tolerated Leliana…
No…if he was going to get to the bottom of this, he would need to speak with the witch himself. If something troubling was going on in her head, he needed to know. It would be better to solve the problem now before it grew into something worse.
They had broken camp an hour ago, and once again began their journey. Alim checked the map that Alistair found in Brother Genitivi's home in Denerim. They had to be drawing closer. They…
"Alim?"
Leliana's voice snapped him out of his musings. The bard emerged from the trees, a warm smile lighting up her beautiful features.
It was like sunshine on his face this cold morning.
"Found something?" he asked.
She nodded.
"A windmill," she replied, and what looks like a small border wall. I did not want to get too close however; I spotted several hunters moving through the trees, and a lone guard standing before what looks like the entrance to the town."
Some of the cheer left the bard's face.
"I did not wish to startle the people here. Who knows how they will behave around outsiders."
Alim nodded. She had made a wise decision.
Fergus came up alongside him.
"Most villages welcome traders Alim," he said quietly, "We could lead Bodahn's cart up to the gates, see if they wish to trade goods for information, isolated places like this are often curious about the outside world.
Alim considered that.
"No," he said, "Considering what we found back in Genitivi's place back in Denerim, all of us just walking up might cause more problems."
He cast a glance over his rather odd assortment of companions.
"Besides, we're not the most subtle group in Thedas are we?"
That comment caused a few chuckles or amused smiles among the party.
"So how you want to play this boss?" Oghren asked, idly spinning his battle ax.
Alim sighed.
"The bulk of us will stay with the cart. I'll take a small group into the village to see what they know. We should keep an eye out for treachery. The knights of Redcliffe searching for this place vanished; I have no intention of joining them."
"I'll go," Alistair volunteered, "The Arl needs those ashes. If these people know anything, we need to find out."
"I will go as well," Morrigan said coolly, "There is something about this place, something in the air…"
The witch sniffed.
"I wish to see what it is for myself."
"I'll come," Seri said, "People in the mountains respect my kind, we still trade with the mountain folk from time to time."
"If you are going my dear Seri," Zevran responded, "I shall go as well, to watch your back as it were."
The dwarf grinned.
"Don't get too distracted back there Zev."
The assassin chuckled.
"I will try to keep my wits about me."
A few groans escaped the group.
Alim agreed.
"The ashes are important to the chantry," Leliana said, "If there is a chance that we might find them here, I would like to come. To see the ashes, it is a chance I cannot pass up."
Morrigan snorted at that.
"Once more we find ourselves caught up with your religion," the witch spat, "Tis most disturbing if you ask me."
Leliana frowned but did not reply.
Alim spoke up before a fight could start.
"It looks like we have our team then," he said, "Theron, Wynne keep an eye on things until we get back."
The Dalish's ears twitched.
"What if we come under attack Alim?" he inquired.
"Defend yourselves," he advised, "As I said, we can't be sure if the reavers we faced back at the tower and the false Weylon in Denerim are related to this place, we only have suspicions."
The elf sighed.
"So keep your guard up."
"Ha, if these people attack us, I will squish them," Shayle said eagerly, "I shall tear off their heads and make them fountain blood."
Wynne winced at the golem's words.
Kally chuckled.
"You are a lady after my own heart Shayle," the elf replied.
The golem smirked.
"What? Is not squishing something a girlish thing to do?"
Alim rolled his eyes.
"Just try not to squish anyone until you are certain we are facing an enemy Shayle."
The golem snorted.
"It never lets us having any fun."
The group broke up quickly; Alim led his team up the path discovered by Leliana. He could not fail to notice that Morrigan had been right about one thing.
This stretch of land…it felt…strange. Old magic, perhaps, something he did not understand himself. The memories of the Stormbreakers bubbled up unexpectedly.
There was something here that was for certain, something very old.
He was eager to see what it was.
IOI
The group reached the gates of Haven a little while later.
Alim glanced around at the tiny village, the buildings were old, but clearly kept in good repair, the windmill rotated slowly in the mountain breeze. Crates and food carts sat idly in the village square.
The elf quirked his lip.
It looked like any other small village they had passed through the last few months, except for the strange feeling in the air; it might have been a place like anywhere else.
Yet, something still felt amiss.
This place…it felt like it was hiding from the world.
He found himself wanting to know why.
"You there! Halt!"
The group paused, a lone guard approached them, his armor, like the village looked old but clearly well serviced.
Alim smiled and leaned on his staff, not wishing to appear threatening.
"Good morning ser," he said conversationally, "I am…"
"What are you doing here?" the guard growled," You are not from Haven."
The warden mage chuckled.
"So," he murmured, "This is Haven…charming."
The guard glared daggers at him.
"What do you want?"
Alistair stepped forward.
"We are simply passing through ser," he said, "We mean no harm."
The guard paused, digesting what the former Templar had told him.
Finally, after a very pregnant minute, he responded.
"You may trade for supplies at the shop, but then…I suggest you leave."
The guard left them then, though Alim doubted he had gone far.
Behind the warden Zevran chuckled.
"Friendly lot, aren't they?"
Leliana shook her head.
"Not the kind of welcome travelers traditionally get in such places," she said, "What with the Blight and civil war; you think these people would be curious about that at least."
Morrigan laughed coldly.
"The affairs of men do not matter to some people," she said, "In the wilds we cared little for the affairs of kings and queens, it took the Blight to make us concerned there."
Alim nodded, the witch made fair point, but he still could not shake the feeling that more was going on here.
He led the group into the village.
Too many people had vanished trying to find this place…
He…wanted to know why.
IOI
Leliana stayed close to her lover, her hands never far from her weapons. Not too long ago she would fear that she was being paranoid. She would have tried to remember her chantry training, and give the people of this village the benefit of the doubt.
She knew better now.
For too long, she had fought her own nature. She had tried to cast aside the bard, and simply be the chantry sister. She had been unable to find peace outside the chantry's walls. Her old urges kept coming to the forefront.
She had hated that. She had tried to be a good woman, and every time her darkness rose. It made her feel like a hypocrite.
Alim had helped her realize the truth. Her love had helped her accept it.
She was not simply the bard, not simply the sister.
She was Leliana, and she was both.
She could not undo the past. The darkness in her soul would always be there, but she no longer allowed it to influence her every action. She tempered that darkness with her faith and her love of the Maker.
Alim's words had rang so true to her. Evil people do not concern themselves with not being good. His faith in her, his love, had allowed her to embrace the two sides of her personality. She recognized temptation. Yet, she did not embrace it. To the innocent, to her friends, and allies, she would be compassion itself, but to her enemies.
She would slake the darkness within her with their blood.
This realization…it made her feel something she had not felt in a long time.
She felt…free.
Free to be with those she loved, to be herself without secret, it was liberating.
Alim knew her, he knew her in the most intimate and personal of ways. She had given herself over to him, and in that release had found herself again.
She wondered if this was why she had first been given the visions. The chantry had many shields; perhaps what the Maker wanted now…was a dagger.
Danger was everywhere. Enemies sought to manipulate the good and just for their own purpose, only be seeing the darkness within could she recognize that manipulation for what it was.
She would be the Maker's dagger, and through her, the good would be protected.
She glanced around Haven; her bardic instincts screamed that something here was not right. This early in the morning the village should be a flurry of activity, yet she saw only a few people, people that glared at them as they passed by.
We have nothing you want please go!
Lowlanders are not welcome here!
Haven is not for you!
It was the only response they got from the few villagers when they passed by. As they passed by the village shop, the group noticed a boy of about twelve or thirteen standing not far from the village docks. He watched them carefully, evaluating them, like a predator watching prey.
Leliana grew curious.
She approached him.
"Who are you?" he asked in a dreamy voice, "You are not from here?"
Leliana laughed lightly. She let her posture become less threatening.
"We are merely passing through," she said, "You have a beautiful village here."
The boy did not respond to her compliment.
"Lowlanders are not welcome here," he murmured.
"So I have heard," she replied, "You are a bright lad that is for certain, bright and strong."
She knew she was laying it on a little thick, but she hoped to get some information out of the boy. Marjolaine had taught her well how to manipulate. She leaned a little closer put a little more swing in her step, a boy on the cusp of adolescence should have been quite intrigued by what she had to offer.
This boy…did not seem even to notice.
Still she pushed forward.
"I would expect more people in such a place," she said conversationally, "Is everyone out working somewhere."
"They are in the chantry," the boy replied, "Mother wanted me to go to the chant, but she does not get to tell me what to do anymore. I'm tired of listening to Father Erick with the babies and the girls. Soon I will be old enough to go up the mountain, and…and…"
The boy stopped mid-sentence, but what he had told her was quite intriguing.
A Revered Father, she had never heard of such a thing, and what did the boy mean by go up the mountain?
She tried to press him for more, but he vanished back into one of the houses, but not before saying once more that Lowlanders don't belong here.
Leliana's brow furrowed, again her bardic instincts were screaming at her.
Something was definitely going on here.
"Find something?"
Alim was at her side. She smiled slightly and gave his hand a gentle squeeze.
"The bulk of the villagers are in the chantry, listening to the words of the Revered Father."
Alim's ears twitched. He might not like the chantry much, but his time in the circle no doubt taught him its ways…
There were no male priests in the chantry, not in the rest of the world anyway.
The elf gave her a knowing look.
"Perhaps we should go speak to this Revered Father ourselves," he suggested, "Perhaps he knows more about what is going on here."
Leliana smiled.
She could not have said it better herself, and besides it had been too long since she had heard the chant.
She welcomed the opportunity to hear it again, and if there was more going on here, if the sister in her could not puzzle it out, then the bard might just be able to.
She welcomed the opportunity.
She welcomed the release.