Chapter 120: The Tavern
What do you think Eamon is playing at?
Hard to say, his illness, compounded by the loss of his son, any choice he has made lately should be questioned.
Does he honestly believe Maric's bastard is better suited to rule than the Queen?
Eamon seems to think so, though good luck convincing any of Loghain's allies of it.
Leliana frowned.
She had been sitting in the Gnawed Noble Tavern for a while now, hours really, awaiting Alim's arrival. She sat in the corner, out of the way, but close enough to eavesdrop on the many nobles who frequented the marketplace's most popular drinking establishment.
She tried not to let worry get to her. The fear of her visions remained.
Had Alim been hurt? What had happened when Alistair had gone to meet his sister? Had Loghain's people set a trap for the two wardens?
She sighed.
All she could do now…was wait…and pray.
In the other room, loud boisterous laughing could be heard, a group of mercenaries had arrived shortly after she did, they all but monopolized the bar and wait staff. Leliana had had to wait almost twenty minutes for her first drink, not that she minded.
After all, she was not here for a drink, merely to gauge the nobles' feelings regarding the secession and who they might consider approaching as an ally.
The bard shook her head.
Sadly, she had found few of those sitting here.
The loudest voices against Teyrn Loghain had been silenced early in the civil war. The nobles that remained now had either chosen to remain neutral, or had supported Loghain openly. Few of them had reason to stand up to the regent. Now that he had had all winter to solidify his power here in the capital, it was unlikely that there were many nobles remaining who would challenge Loghain openly, even if they believed that the Teyrn had abandoned his king in Ostagar.
Leliana sighed.
The cause might have become hopeless, had the darkspawn horde not continued its push farther north. Nobles who had believed Loghain's tales about this not being a true Blight were now faced with legions of darkspawn now marching across the countryside. In the northern edge of the Hinterlands, few settlements remained. Loghain loyalist patrols were finding it harder and harder to avoid the encroaching darkspawn threat. Refugees fleeing from the south further weakened the nobles ability to combat the Blight, with so many of their soldiers needed to keep the peace among the refugees the warriors in the field were quickly finding themselves greatly outmatched.
Alim hoped, as she did, that growing encroachment of the horde would force the nobles to take up arms against the Blight. The more Loghain tried to deny it, the more those threatened nobles would realize that the wardens were not just some opportunistic enemy. Word had already reached Denerim of the gathering forces of the Dalish, the Dwarves, and the Circle of Magi. It was not a large force perhaps, but it was large enough for even the most jaded of noble to sit up and take notice.
What Teyrn Loghain thought of these forces gather, she could not even begin to guess? Did he believe that the wardens would use their gathered allies to try and assault Denerim? A rational person would say no, not with so many darkspawn continuing to flow north out of the tainted lands in the south.
Of course, Loghain's actions over the last few months could hardly be called rational. Who knew what was truly going on in the man's head?
Leliana certainly didn't.
So she kept to the shadows, and listened as the nobles moved around her, listening to their plans and pondered what their next step in the game might be. In many ways, this was familiar territory for her, not so much different than what she had done as a girl in Val Royeaux.
The only difference was that here, the stakes were much, much higher. If Ferelden fell to the Archdemon the entire world would soon be threatened by the Blight. Orlais would be the most likely target if the darkspawn were successful here…
The mere thought made her brow furrow.
She had no desire to see the Empire fall under the darkspawn shroud. Orlais was not very popular with its neighbors these days.
Would Nevarra and the Free Marches join the fight if Orlais was attacked? She hoped so. She hoped that politics would not cause the mess elsewhere that it had caused in Ferelden.
She shuddered.
How big would the horde be if Ferelden fell? How many women would be turned into broodmothers and forced to breed even more horrors? A darkspawn horde fattened up by a victory here in Ferelden would likely be too large even for the Empire's army to stop.
That is why the darkspawn had to be broken here. She believed in their cause. She believed that the Maker smiled on their endeavor, but still…there was still so much going against them right now.
And the darkspawn and Loghain were far from the only threat.
She looked across the table at her companion. She had asked Theron to accompany her on this mission since the elf had been in Denerim before Loghain had purged the warden compound here. She had hoped that he might have heard something. That the few nobles here in the capital that had been loyal to the wardens might have told him something that might aid their cause.
Sadly, the elf had nothing to say about that, had had little to say since the night Brother Genitivi died.
Something had happened to Theron during that battle, a shadow had fallen over the heart of their Dalish companion.
Leliana took it upon herself to help him, to bring the Dalish warden back up to fighting condition.
If they were going to defeat the Archdemon, all the wardens needed to be at their best. Alistair was on his way to meet his sister, to get closure for that particular question. Alim continued to work with his friend Jowan, trying to get him ready to face the darkness that was to come.
That had left only Theron to deal with. Leliana had hope that she would be able to do that.
If not, the elf would not last long the next time they engaged the darkspawn.
She would not allow that.
He was needed.
"Theron?" she said.
The elf's silver eyes rose to meet hers. The dark circles that ringed them revealed how little rest her companion had gotten in the last few days. Nightmares about the darkspawn were probably part of it, but the unhappy expression on the elf's face suggested something more….something far worse.
"Yes, Leliana," he said flatly.
She pursed her lips.
That had been another symptom she had noticed in the last few days. The elf's monotone speech, the sense that he was barely trudging through the days, even someone who did not know him would say something was wrong.
It was not good for him; it would not be good for anyone.
Still she did her best to smile, not wishing to push the elf back into his shell.
"I want to thank you for coming out with me today," she said, "I've always hated drinking alone."
The Dalish shrugged.
"Never really understood the value of…Tav…urns…" he said with a snort, "Why someone would want to go to place where they get so drunk they can no longer stand up is beyond me."
Leliana smiled slightly, grateful for the opening her friend had given her.
She intended not to let it go to waste.
"For some," she began, "Drink can be an escape, a means to forget one's burdens for a time."
Theron shifted nervously, he suddenly refused to meet her gaze.
It was at that moment she knew she was making progress.
She gave her friend and concerned look.
"And what of you Theron?" she inquired.
"Me? He answered.
"Yes," she said placing her hand over his.
"I was never a priest, but even as a Lay Sister I often heard confessions, and I know how to keep a secret."
She gave him her most reassuring smile.
"If you need to talk, I am willing to listen."
He looked down upon it, for a moment she thought he was going to accept her aid…
Then he pulled it away.
"Mas…mas serannas, Lethallin," he said shaking his head.
"Nothing I could say would undo the things I have done."
He gave her a sad smile.
"Best that we leave the matter be."
Leliana's lips curled into a slight pout. She had hoped that her friend would open up to her. That he would at least let her try to help.
The bard shook her head.
This isn't over, she thought.
She would not give up.
If there was even a chance of reaching him, she would.
It was at that moment that Oghren and Jowan entered the tavern. Most of the nobles looked up in distaste as the pair made their way through the crowd. Oghren belched loudly as not so gently moved some merchant out of the way. The man turned to say something, but an icy glare from the dwarven berserker all but stopped him.
Jowan looked around nervously, no doubt still worried about Templars finding him; he had confessed that there was likely still a price on his head since fleeing the tower.
A bounty hunter would not care about the right of conscription. He probably could have remained in the Arl's estate, but considering all that had happened between him that Guereins…
That was likely not the best idea either.
Theron noticed them and waved them over, both the warrior and the mage found seats at their table.
Leliana sighed.
So much for being inconspicuous…
She knew that she should probably return to the Arl's estate, and wait for Alim there, but at the same time she did not wish to leave her friends all alone out here. Theron was still uncomfortable in human society, Jowan was still as skittish as a cat, and Oghren…well…Oghren was Oghren.
The dwarf, still heavy in the cups, burped and giggled at her.
Leliana frowned.
She had gotten used to presence in the last few months, and even though she welcomed his ax in battle was still not entirely used to dealing with him on her own.
Still, she had gotten to seen a different side of Oghren as they had passed the Circle Tower. Alim had helped the dwarf…reconnect with an old lover of his.
Felsi, as the dwarven woman was called, actually seemed to care about the drunken berserker. Despite their rather…colorful…history, she and Oghren had shared a drink and a night together before the group started out for Denerim again.
Leliana had had to hold back her laughter as Alim had…evaluated if the girl was still available. It had been a bit of light in these dark times.
It was best to cling to those moments when they found them. If not what in Andraste's name were they all fighting for?
"Soooo, Sister," Oghren said with a leer.
"Leliana's eyes narrowed.
"Yes, Master dwarf?"
"You were a priest right?"
"A Lay Sister," she corrected him.
"Right," he chuckled, "One of those things, um…about those robes you wear…"
"Yes?"
"Is, that…um…heh, heh…all you wore?"
Leliana's brow furrowed.
"There were robes and occasionally holy vestments for services…"
"Yeah…and what else?" he said with a widening leer.
The Bard frowned.
"Why do you ask?" she demanded.
"Aw come on," he said pounding on the table, "Underneath the robes, naked or not?"
The bard pinned him with an icy glare. Had it been anyone but Oghren she would have been tempted to teach the dwarf some manners, but by now she had gotten used to his behavior.
She sighed.
"I'm not even going to dignify that with an answer," she sniffed.
The dwarf snorted.
"Ah…never mind, I will find out for myself."
Leliana sniffed again.
"Good luck with that," she said haughtily.
It was at that moment that one of the mercenaries shoved an elven waiter into their table, Theron's drink splashed up into Leliana's face; she sputtered and almost fell back out of her chair.
The soldier and his allies laughed.
Theron and the others were on their feet in seconds.
"That was very rude shemlen," the Dalish warden spat.
The mercenary laughed.
"And what are you going to do about it knife-ears?"
Leliana wiped the ale off her face, her other hand was already dipping to her belt to draw one of her daggers. She was no fragile waif that needed to be defended.
"No fighting!" the barkeep shouted over the now quiet tavern. All sound has ceased as the five armored soldiers faced off against Leliana's companions.
"NO FIGHTING!"
Theron regarded the assembled soldiers with fury in his large eyes. Oghren had a hungry smile on his face, his ax already in hand.
Jowan muttered under his breath, Leliana could not tell what the mage was saying, but she had been around Alim enough to recognize when a circle trained mage was preparing a spell.
She realized that this could all blow up in their faces quite soon.
"You should apologize to the lady?" Theron growled.
Again the mercenary laughed.
"Is this your lover girl?" he asked Leliana, "Pretty thing like you can do a lot better than screwing rabbits."
Leliana felt her own temper start to flare, not just the man's words about who she chose to share her bed with, and it was none of the fool's business who she chose to share herself with. But that was not the reason she was thinking about slitting his throat right now. It was his use of the term "Pretty Thing."
Leliana did not like that nickname anymore.
Her fingers curled into angry fists, but she did not rise to the bait. Alim would not like it if they all got arrested for brawling in a tavern.
No…there was a better way to handle this.
Leliana's mind was working a mile a minute, composing a bluff.
She smiled coldly.
"I think you should all leave," she hissed at the mercenaries.
The leader chortled.
"Or what bitch?"
"We will arrest you," she replied, "The guard doesn't look kindly on louts mucking up a fine noble establishment as this."
"A guard huh," another of the mercenaries replied, "You think you can tell the White Falcons what to do?"
The bard let her smile become more predatory.
"Do we look like ordinary guards to you? Arl Howe wanted an example made," she said coldly, "Something that could be seen from on high and last forever."
Leliana smirked.
"Perhaps you and your men have just volunteered?"
The man's reaction was almost instant.
"The Arl…um…no…there is no need to make an example out of us! Isn't that right boys!"
All mocking had gone out of the mercenaries. They were already starting to edge towards the door.
Leliana's eyes narrowed.
By now, word of the massacre of Highever had spread far and wide. She was grateful that Fergus was not here to hear her, but she was not above using Howe's name to scare off some rabble.
Who knew, it might be enough to convince the mercenaries to join the wardens cause, if only to protect them from Howe's vengeance.
The mercenaries fled the bar with barely another word.
Slowly, the sounds of the tavern returned. Both Theron and Jowan gave Leliana an impressed look.
The bard shrugged and sat down.
Oghren snorted.
"And I was just about to show those farts the business end of my ax."
The berserker shook his head.
"I swear most of you surfacers have the courage of elven women."
Leliana chuckled.
"I dare you to say that in front of Kally, Master dwarf."
Oghren shook his head.
"No thanks," he snorted, "I like my danglers right where they are, thank you."
She chuckled and looked up as the door opened.
Alim and the others stepped inside.
Leliana's eyes widened.
They all looked like they had been through a war. Alistair looked cold and angry. Morrigan was limping slightly, and Seri was supporting Zev. Bandit was favoring his left front paw. Alim's robes were stained with soot and blood, but he otherwise looked unharmed.
She and the others rushed over to see what had happened.
The elf waved her off as she got closer.
He looked around the tavern.
"Sergeant Kylon asked if we would remove some mercenaries from this place," he said with a slight frown.
Leliana suppressed a giggle.
"I'm afraid you were too slow today dearest."
He shook his head.
"So much for helping clean up the city."