A/N: Apologies for the super late chapter, everyone! I had meant to have this up two weeks ago but November/December got crazy busy for me. On the plus side, this chapter ended up being way longer than I thought it would be, so you kind of get two chapters for the price of one this time around. This chapter is from Brianna's POV, and the next one will likely be from her POV as well.
Thanks to everyone who has favorited, followed, and read so far. I'm happy to see people willing to follow along with the sequel!
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Chapter 3: A Messenger?
Brianna glanced back over her shoulder every once in a while as she led her companions along the trail up Sundermount towards where the Dalish encampment was said to be. The trail was narrow enough at this point that they were forced to walk single file, and so she could not talk to any of them at the moment. Which she was actually all right with, at least for now. It seemed like she never got time to herself to think in Kirkwall. She didn't even have a room of her own to retreat to in that little hovel she was currently forced to live in with her family and her uncle Gamlen. Not that she was there often anyway, sometimes because she didn't have the time and sometimes just because she didn't want to be there; it made her sad that she couldn't do more for her mother and Carver right now, that she couldn't find them a better place to stay than that.
But she would change all that, with this expedition of Bartrand's; she had to. With the treasure she felt sure they would find and the fame that a successful trip would bring, she would be able to take back her family's estate, now that they had found the will that stated her mother should have gotten everything. This expedition would get them noticed, give them the fame and influence needed to get an audience with the Viscount. And, consequently, it should be able to keep her and her apostate status safe from the Templars, now that she didn't have Athenril and the smugglers to cover for her anymore.
She just needed to get the fifty sovereigns to buy into the expedition that Varric had told her they would need. She was getting steadily closer; with the money Javaris had been forced to give her, she now had approximately thirty sovereigns squirreled away. Her progress had been slow at first, when she had left her two years of indentured servitude with the smugglers and met Varric a year ago, but lately, with the jobs she'd managed to successfully complete and the way her reputation was growing as someone who could get things done for people without asking too many questions, her progress had grown rapidly. She'd gotten far more jobs in the last couple of months, with a good deal more money being offered in exchange. At this rate, she felt sure she should have all the money collected by the time the expedition was finally ready to go in two months.
What was even more surprising to her, beyond how successful she'd been, was the fact that she'd managed to collect companions to help her beyond her own family and Varric. Aveline had helped at first, but lately, since they'd uncovered the conspiracy that the former guard captain had been involved in and Aveline had been promoted, she'd become much too busy to help very often. She did still occasionally come along, but Brianna was reluctant to bother her with how much else Aveline had on her plate. Fortunately, she'd met both Fenris and Anders in recent jobs within the last couple of months, and after helping them each with the troubles they'd had, they'd agreed to continue to help her whenever she'd needed it. They'd been surprisingly helpful and loyal in their own ways, though both could be a trifle difficult to deal with at times.
She tried not to bring Anders along too often either, partly because he had his clinic to run and she didn't want to take him away from that, but also partly because of Justice and the way the spirit made him so volatile. She was a bit uncomfortable with the whole situation, especially when she could never quite decide if she fully trusted him not to lose it. Besides which, she was reasonably confident in her own magic abilities, and she hadn't run across many situations yet that she felt needed more than one mage. Fenris, however, she'd been happy to make frequent use of; though Carver was undoubtedly skilled, he was still young and brash and she worried about his safety in battle, possibly more than she should have. It made her feel undeniably better to have Fenris along to back her brother up. Varric, of course, nearly always tagged along; his skill with the bow and at detecting traps and picking locks made him nearly invaluable, and Brianna had come to trust him greatly and regard him as a dear friend.
Then, of course, there was the most recent addition to her odd little group of companions. Though she'd only encountered Mardin a little over a day ago now, it somehow seemed much longer, and she privately admitted, as she glanced over her shoulder once more to find him directly behind her still, that she found him the most intriguing by far. She was in time to catch him staring blatantly at her ass this time; when he looked up and realized she'd caught him as she stared at him with a raised brow, he merely smiled at her, a slow, wicked smile that made her body flush with heat, and then he shrugged as if to say he couldn't help it. She whipped back around to direct her attention to the trail again, willing herself to stop blushing.
So, yes, she found Mardin attractive, she admitted to herself. How could she not? He was a very handsome man, with fiery red hair a few shades darker than Aveline's that he wore cropped closely to the sides of his head, but a bit longer on top, so that it gave him a bit of a rakish air when it fell over his forehead; the icy blue eyes that would darken several shades to a deep blue whenever he stared at her like he'd just been doing, which never failed to speed her pulse up and make her body tingle; the square jaw on his classically featured face which had a bit of stubble shadowing it at the moment, a few shades darker yet than his hair; and a surprisingly full bottom lip for a man that she had an insane urge to bite sometimes. And sinfully long eyelashes, to boot. It simply wasn't fair for a man to have eyelashes like that when she didn't. Add to that the fact that he was tall, with broad shoulders, and, she was sure, a well-muscled body beneath his tunic, given his obvious strength, and no woman could fail to find him attractive. And he knew it, too; his easy confidence and forward nature with her made that obvious. He was clearly used to having women hop into bed with him whenever he asked.
Which was precisely one of the reasons why she wouldn't say yes, no matter how tempted she was by the offer. She was by no means a blushing virgin, though she admitted she felt like it sometimes around him; she hadn't been this attracted to a man in a long time. But she'd had two previous lovers in Ferelden, so she was no stranger to how things worked between a man and a woman. Those men, though, she'd known for quite a while before being with them, and things between them had happened more naturally, more slowly. They had actually spent time together before becoming lovers. She simply couldn't bring herself to simply hop straight into bed with a man she didn't even know, no matter how desirable he was or how alluring the prospect was. And perhaps that little voice inside her head that insisted she shouldn't was more her mother coming out in her than her own opinion, but nevertheless, she couldn't seem to quiet it.
She especially wasn't going to hop into bed with a man that she didn't know, that she knew was also lying to her. Oh, he was good at covering it up, that was certain; if she wasn't an apostate, trained all her life to observe the people around her for the slightest sign of danger, for an inkling that they knew what she was, she probably would never have caught the signs. But she was a successful apostate who had managed to keep both herself and her sister out of danger for many years, so she'd caught the quick flashes of confusion here and there in his eyes, indicating that he had no idea what she was talking about, or just a slight moment of uncertainty, as though he were scrambling for a satisfying explanation for something, before he'd smoothed his expression out or come up with an answer. She'd also checked with the docks this morning before going to meet him and Fenris, and discovered that there had been no recent shipwrecks within the last couple of weeks. Yet he'd clearly ended up on the Wounded Coast yesterday without knowing where he was; that was one of the only things she was sure he wasn't lying about. She just didn't know how he'd gotten there.
Then, of course, there was his daunting strength. He was a big, tall man, so of course he could be expected to be strong. But she'd never seen anyone send a Qunari warrior flying before, the way he had with the Tal-Vashoth. And Anders was nearly the same size as Mardin was, and he'd lifted the mage fully off his feet without so much as breaking a sweat. With one hand. And no more than an hour ago, he'd found the remaining Flint company of mercenaries in a small valley off the main trail with surprising ease – she still had no idea how he'd known where they were – and sent one of their warriors sailing through the air into two others during the ensuing fight, before killing all three of them with swift, powerful blows, while she and the others fought off the remaining seven mercenaries. No, there was something different about him, she was certain of it. Something beyond the fact that he'd ended up on the Coast without knowing where he was, and that he didn't know things that he should – which she had no explanation for, either. She just had no idea what the answers to any of the secrets he was hiding were.
She could just ask him, of course, but she highly doubted he would give her a straight answer. They didn't trust each other enough for that, not yet. She needed to build trust with him, and also collect more irrefutable evidence that he wasn't what he appeared to be, evidence that he couldn't brush off with explanations, before she confronted him. She could wait to find out, though; she was nothing if not patient. And, oddly enough, though she knew he was lying to her, she still trusted him at her back, and to keep her safe in battle. She didn't know why she did, but she sensed that he was a good man, and she knew what it was like to have to keep a secret about yourself for your own safety.
Besides, whatever Mardin might be hiding or lying about, he was telling the truth about his sister going missing and that he was looking for her. Brianna was positive of that much; no one could fake the worry, fear, and anger he'd obviously been holding in until he found out what had happened to her. She just didn't know how his sister had gone missing or why it had taken him three years to find her when it seemed that there were stories floating around about her everywhere. No, that was as much a mystery as everything else, but she would figure it out eventually. It was clear that Anders knew something about Mardin's sister, at least, and he might be more willing to give her answers than Mardin would be. And that might give her the evidence she needed to find out who Mardin really was and how he'd ended up here.
"We're nearly there," Mardin said unexpectedly behind her.
She frowned, casting a quick glance back at him again, wondering how he knew, but she didn't say anything. Just as he'd predicted, however, around the next bend in the trail, she spotted two elves guarding the entrance to a small valley tucked at the base of Sundermount's rocky peak. One was male and one female; both had dark hair and were clad in light silver plate armor tinged with green, wielding swords. She walked up to the two elves, halting a few feet away when their eyes narrowed and their hands went to their swords, and the others stopped behind her in a loose group, now that there was enough space to stand together.
"Hold, shemlen!" the male elf barked. "Your kind are not welcome among the Dalish."
Brianna sighed inwardly. She'd never met any Dalish, but she'd heard enough tales not to expect a warm welcome from them, although this was an even chillier reception than she'd thought it would be. "Well, I wasn't expecting tea and cakes or anything," she said lightly, hearing Varric snort behind her as she tried to do what she did best; defuse the situation with humor, though it didn't look as though the elves appreciated it much. "I just need to give an amulet to someone named Marethari."
"How do you know that name?" the male elf snapped suspiciously.
"Wait!" the female elf exclaimed, holding up a hand to the male as he took a step forward. "This is the one the Keeper spoke of."
"A shemlen?" The male elf's eyebrows vaulted up in disbelief as he took a closer look at Brianna. "I thought she'd be an elf."
Brianna frowned, wondering how the elves had known she was coming even as the female guard said, "Enter the camp. Keeper Marethari has been waiting for you."
"Cause trouble, and you'll meet our blades, stranger," the male added threateningly, clutching his sword hilt briefly again before the two stepped aside to allow them passage.
"Yes, it's lovely to meet you too," Brianna muttered as she walked past the elves into the camp. The small valley was dotted with what appeared to be various wagons of some sort, covered in red, and there were numerous campfires set up as well, elves of every age gathered around them in small clumps or striding back and forth between them, going about various tasks. Glancing behind her, Brianna noted that the female guard was pointing to a fire off to the right, where an elderly elf woman stood, so she headed in that direction. The sooner she could get this over with and get out of here, the better, she thought, for she could feel the tension in the air as the Dalish stared at her party and hear some of the unfriendly mumblings as they walked by.
As they got closer to the fire, Brianna could see that the elven woman was even older than she'd expected, her hair wrapped up in a stark white bun and her face lined with wrinkles that cut through her tattoo, though her dark eyes were kind as she smiled slightly at them when they stopped in front of her. She wore grey robes trimmed with gold, topped with feathered shoulders, and had a staff strapped to her back, and as if that wasn't enough evidence that she was a mage, Brianna could sense a good deal of magic emanating from her as well.
She smiled slightly at the older woman. "Marethari? I was told to bring you this amulet." She fished the amulet Flemeth had given her during their escape from Lothering out of the pouch she'd kept it in at her waist.
"What is that?" Mardin demanded in sudden alarm, coming up to her side and gripping her arm as she brought the amulet out.
"It's . . . just an amulet," Brianna replied slowly, wondering at his reaction even as she felt a warm tingle from his hand on her skin. He let go of her arm almost right away when he saw her staring at his hand, looking apologetic, and she passed the amulet over to Marethari.
"No, it isn't," he said, not taking his eyes off the amulet as the elderly elf looked it over. Brianna studied him, taking in the way he stared at the amulet as though expecting it would attack at any moment, curious as to what prompted his certainty that it was dangerous. She had always sensed a slight bit of magic coming from it, true, but no more than from any enchanted object she'd come across. At least, not until they'd arrived at Sundermount, she realized. She hadn't fully noticed it before until she'd taken it out of the pouch, but the magic emanating from it now had increased nearly tenfold. But how did Mardin know that? He wasn't a mage, she was certain of that much. Just another thing to add to the list of oddities about him, she thought wryly.
Having finished her study of the amulet, the elven mage nodded formally at them. "Andaran atish'an, travelers. Indeed, I am Keeper Marethari. And as it happens, your friend here is right; this is not just an amulet." The Keeper cast a curious, searching glance at Mardin as though she, too, wondered just how he knew that. "But never mind that," she went on, "let me look at you." Brianna took a step or two forward as the older woman turned her dark eyes to her, studying her closely. "There is a light in your heart, human. Don't let it go out; you will need it. Tell me how this burden fell to you, child."
To this day, Brianna had no idea how to describe the crazy circumstances that had led to her family escaping the Blight. She'd heard the elaborate and overdone tale that Varric had spun for Mardin earlier on their way to Sundermount, but she had no idea how to put it in words herself. She shrugged. "Well, a dragon fell from the sky, charred some darkspawn to save me and my family, then asked me to bring you this amulet. And I like to keep the promises I make, especially to a dragon witch."
"Oh, Hawke. So unimaginative," Varric muttered behind her.
The Keeper smiled. "You are blessed by luck, then. I will pray that Mythal watches over your path."
"Are you the leader of these Dalish?" Brianna asked, curiosity overwhelming her. Did elves really let mages lead them? It certainly seemed that way, for the older woman had the air of authority around her. And what was with this amulet, anyway? What was so important about it? "Why did the witch tell me to bring this amulet to you?"
Marethari nodded in answer. "I am the Keeper of this clan. It is my task to guide my people and to ensure the old ways are not forgotten. As for Asha'bellanar, I am tied to her, just as you are, by a debt that must be repaid."
Well, that cleared up precisely nothing, Brianna thought, slightly annoyed. Maybe not nothing; Marethari seemed to like to talk in vague riddles for the most part, just like Flemeth; maybe that meant they were friends of a sort. "What exactly is this thing I've been carrying around?" she demanded, hoping to get some sort of clear answer for something today. "Is it magic? What did you mean when you said it's not just an amulet?"
"It is a promise, child. Made by one whose word still has weight. And therefore it has terrible power. There are few things in this world stronger than a promise kept. Remember that." When Brianna just stared at her in response, frustrated with the increasingly vague answers she was getting, Marethari sighed and went on, "In any case, it is difficult to explain. It would be best to see for yourself."
"See it for myself? What do you mean by that? Wasn't I just supposed to bring the amulet to you?" Even as she said it, Brianna knew it couldn't be that easy. When had anything in her life ever been simple?
The Keeper shook her head. "I honor you for coming to me, but I'm afraid your part in this is not done yet. The amulet must be taken to an altar at the top of the mountain, and given a Dalish rite for the departed. Then return the amulet to me. Do this, and your debt will be repaid."
That didn't sound so bad, Brianna thought, as she asked, "Are you going to teach me this rite for the departed?"
"I will send my First with you," Marethari replied. "She will see to it that the ritual is done. And when it is complete, I must ask that you take her with you when you go."
Wait, what? Brianna stared at the older woman in surprise, wondering if she was joking. Take a Dalish elf with her, away from her clan? But there was no sign to indicate the Keeper was anything but deadly serious, and Brianna sighed. Nothing but more questions. "Who is your First? First of what?"
"Your people would call her my apprentice or heir," the Keeper explained, her voice sad, reluctant. "Merrill would have taken my place as Keeper. But she has chosen a new path. Please, guide her safely from here."
"If . . . that's what you want," Brianna said at last. She was sure there was something going on here, but she was equally sure that Marethari wouldn't tell her what it was. Still, she had no choice. She did have to keep her promise to Flemeth, and if that meant performing yet another favour along the way, she'd simply have to deal with it.
"It isn't what I want," the Keeper replied, shaking her head as she handed the amulet back, and Brianna tucked it back in her pouch. "But it is what she wants. You'll find Merrill waiting for you on the trail just up the mountain." The older woman pointed behind her, at a trail that wound steeply up the peak on the far side of the valley. "Dareth shiral."
Brianna nodded, turning and walking past the Keeper towards the trail that led up the mountain, the others following. "So much for an easy trip to deliver an amulet," she sighed once they were out of earshot.
"Well, and where would be the fun in that, Hawke?" Varric asked as he came up to her side. "How would I make a good story out of, 'and then Hawke gave a necklace to a bunch of elves'? It's much better if there's a mysterious altar and rite involved."
Brianna couldn't help but laugh at his response. One of her favourite things about Varric was how he never failed to cheer her up somehow. "Well, as long as you get a good story out of this, Varric, then I suppose somebody's happy."
"Oh, I'm sure it will be interesting, at least," Mardin said wryly from Brianna's other side. "Whatever it is, that thing is dangerous."
Brianna turned to him, noticing the still-wary look he was casting at the pouch that contained the amulet. "Just what makes you say that, anyway?"
A sudden uncomfortable look flashed through his eyes and was gone as quickly as she'd noticed it. He shrugged. "Call it gut instinct."
Before she could press further, which she fully intended to do, Fenris said quietly from behind her, "I hear something, up ahead. A strange noise."
They all cautiously approached the bend in the trail, hands on weapons, and Brianna had a spell ready to go as they edged around another rocky outcropping, enabling them to finally view the trail ahead. About another ten feet further up, a young, dark-haired elf girl was crouched at the side of the trail, turned slightly away from them, hunched over something in her hands. Brianna felt sure that there was magic emanating from the girl's hands, but as she stepped on a twig, snapping it, the young elf abruptly turned, noticing them, and the sensation was gone in the next moment.
Well, no matter. It looked like she'd just been playing around with a spell while waiting for them. Brianna continued forward at a more normal pace as the elf girl moved forward as well; this had to be Merrill, the Keeper's First. Like Marethari, she had a staff strapped to her back, and wore a long green tunic over a scaly black material that covered her arms and legs. The tunic was belted in place with leather, and she had leather gauntlets on her hands, as well. She was quite pretty, too, with a petite figure, short dark hair, and large, luminous green eyes in a delicately lovely face framed by a twisting black tattoo. Brianna heard an indrawn breath from Carver behind her, and smirked to herself. Her brother had always been a sucker for a pretty face. She wondered briefly if Mardin would flirt shamelessly with this elf girl, too, but when she looked over at him, he was glancing at her ass again. She shook her head, torn between exasperation, amusement, and no small amount of feminine pride. Maybe he wasn't as fickle as she'd initially thought.
"Oh, I didn't hear," the elf girl exclaimed anxiously as she came to a stop a few feet from them, her gaze bouncing over all five of them before landing back on Brianna in the center. "You must be the one the Keeper told me about. Aneth ara." She gave them a brief bow, before continuing on, "I'm so sorry, I didn't ask your name. Unless . . . it's not rude to ask a human their name, is it? I'm Merrill. Which you probably knew already. I'm rambling, sorry."
"Don't worry about it," Brianna replied, finding herself oddly endeared by the young mage's ramblings. "And it's not rude to ask my name; I'm Brianna Hawke. This is my brother, Carver, and our companions, Fenris, Varric, and Mardin." She indicated each of them in turn, and the men all offered their own greetings, though Carver's involved a lot of stammering and blushing. "I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, Merrill."
"Thank you. I'm afraid I'm not very experienced with your kind," Merrill explained nervously as she glanced at all of them again. "The Keeper said you came from Ferelden, right?" When Brianna nodded, the young mage went on, "I spent most of my life there. We only came north a few years ago. Have you been in the Free Marches long? Do you like it here?"
Brianna shrugged. Sometimes she missed her home, sometimes she didn't. She was never entirely certain how she felt about it. "I miss the cold. And the dirt. Kirkwall's not brown enough for me," she said jokingly. It was really more grey than anything, though here on Sundermount, it was all a lovely green. "But hey, no darkspawn!" she added, before saying more seriously, "But Kirkwall is a good place to start over."
"Ferelden wasn't that brown! The dirt and muck gave it character," Merrill protested, obviously feeling the need to defend her home, but when she saw that Brianna was grinning, she sighed. "Oh, right, you're joking. Well, I hope you're right about it being a good place to start over." The young mage looked briefly, incredibly, sad before continuing, "We should go. Your task is for Asha'bellanar. It's not wise to make her wait."
"Probably not," Brianna agreed, falling in next to Merrill as she turned and headed further up the mountain path. The others trailed behind them, and she could hear Mardin casually asking Varric for a story about darkspawn behind her. She frowned. He'd been getting Varric to tell him stories all the way here, and of course the dwarf had been happy to oblige. It seemed innocent enough on the surface, but she'd noticed all his requests had been about things he'd looked briefly confused about before, like the Blight, darkspawn and the Deep Roads. It only confirmed her suspicions that he didn't know things he should. But, she reminded herself, there was nothing she could do about it at the moment. She could, however, satisfy her curiosity about someone else. "So, Merrill, we didn't really get a proper introduction."
"Ah, of course," Merrill said hastily, glancing over at her briefly. "I am – or was, I suppose – the First to Keeper Marethari. I've studied the old ways for as long as I can remember. I know things – the lore of the Dalish – that can help us get to the summit of Sundermount."
Brianna nodded, absorbing this information, as well as how sad the young girl had looked when delivering it. It was obvious she wasn't overjoyed to be leaving her clan. "Just out of curiosity, why are you leaving the Dalish for Kirkwall?"
Merrill looked away, saying shortly, "I have to. Let's leave it at that for now, all right?"
Yes, there was definitely something more going on here than Marethari had said, Brianna decided. "I get the feeling you're in trouble," she said carefully.
"It's not like that!" Merrill protested. She frowned, amending, "Not exactly, anyway. The Keeper and I have disagreements, but it will sort itself out in time."
They had arrived at a bit of a plateau on the trail, and before Brianna could say anything in response to Merrill, a skeleton suddenly erupted from the ground in front of them, wearing tattered bits of armor and wielding a sword as it shambled towards them. "What in the Maker's name is that?" Brianna exclaimed.
"There are restless spirits that inhabit the mountain," Merrill explained quickly as she pulled her staff from her back, readying a spell as more skeletons erupted from the ground around them. "Sometimes they infect the dead and bring them to life. If you remove their head, they will fall again."
"Oh, lovely," Brianna muttered, grabbing her own staff and sending a concentrated blast of lightning at one of the skeletons shambling towards them, blowing its head off. "Everybody hear that?"
"Sounds like fun," Mardin declared, running past her and Merrill to slam his shield into one skeleton, sending it flying while he sliced the head off another. Fenris leapt past her as well, one swing of his greatsword separating the heads from two skeletons, and Carver followed, striking another one down. Merrill shot at an arcane blast at one just to Carver's right, very nearly clipping him, but knocking the head clean off the skeleton. Brianna shook her head as she launched a blast at another, while Varric's arrows flew by; the elf was clearly not used to wielding her magic in close quarters with allies around.
She kept as close an eye as she could on Merrill's magic while they fought off the inordinately large amount of skeletons, but the elven mage managed to succeed in bringing down a few more skeletons without striking any of their party members, though it was a close call more than once. Finally, the last of the skeletons fell, and after waiting for a moment to see if any would get back up, everyone put their weapons away.
"So," Brianna began casually, "the Keeper didn't mention you were a mage." She had known right from the start, of course, but it was obvious from the looks on Fenris and Carver's faces that they hadn't.
"I imagine it's difficult to give away something nobody wants," Fenris added darkly.
Brianna shot a freezing glare at Fenris; she liked the elf well enough most days, but they'd argued more than once on his dire opinion about mages, for obvious reasons. She noted the surprised and disapproving look Mardin sent his way, as well. Fenris had the grace to subside when she glared at him, and Merrill colored a bit at his words, but obviously chose to ignore them.
The young elf looked earnestly at Brianna as she explained, "All Keepers know a bit of old magic. The stories tell us that all elvhen once had the gift, but like so many things, it was lost. It's a Keeper's job to remember, to restore what we can."
Interesting, Brianna thought. So the Dalish not only allowed mages to be their leaders, but it was apparently a requirement that their Keepers possessed magic. She was briefly jealous of the Dalish, even as she asked curiously, "Can't demons possess Dalish mages?"
Merrill nodded sadly. "It can happen, and when it does, the clan must hunt and kill their own Keeper."
The clan hunts them? What about Templars? Brianna wondered. Having been chased by Templars so often herself, it seemed odd that the Dalish held no such fear. "Does the Chantry know about the Dalish mages?"
"Oh, they know," Merrill said with certainty, nodding. "Keeper Marethari told me that was one of the reasons we never camped too long in one place. They usually won't pursue us if we stay away from cities and towns and keep moving."
"And no one minds having to pick up and move, over and over, just to protect a few of you?" Carver demanded. Brianna cast a weary glance back at him. That had been a frequent argument during childhood, when their father had insisted they had to pack up and move yet again for her sake or Bethany's sake, and Carver had protested, saying that he had friends, and wondering why they couldn't just stay for once. Lothering was the longest they'd been able to stay in one place, until the darkspawn had come.
"Why would they mind?" Merrill asked, clearly puzzled, and Brianna had to smile when Carver flushed and stammered, suddenly tongue-tied and unable to provide an answer with Merrill's big eyes trained on him. "Once we've picked over a hunting ground, there's no reason to stay. But my clan is now in more danger, having lost our halla."
"You know that you'll be in more danger than they are, if you go to Kirkwall," Brianna said softly. "You'll be an apostate in a city full of Templars."
Merrill shook her head, looking sad and defeated. "I know, but if I don't go to Kirkwall, I'll be alone. A solitary elf is easy prey for anyone. In the city, I can get lost in the crowd."
"I suppose," Brianna agreed after a moment. She really wanted to know what was so bad as to drive the elf girl away from her clan, but it wasn't her place to ask. "Anyway, I'm glad you decided to pitch in back there."
"Oh!" Merrill exclaimed, looking surprised and pleased, and Brianna reflected sadly that it was probably one of the first times she'd been thanked for using magic. "You're welcome. I wasn't sure I'd be much good. I've done a little fighting before, but it was always alone. I'll try not to hit anyone. On our side, I mean. I'm babbling again. Let's go."
Brianna nodded, letting Merrill take the lead again as they continued up the mountain, and decided that her mind was made up. She couldn't let Merrill run around Kirkwall alone; she'd have to try to keep an eye on the sheltered, inexperienced, naïve girl as much as she could, and teach her how to stay away from Templars and fight properly. Maybe she could even be of help with the expedition, eventually.
She dropped back a little ways to talk to Mardin as they went, seeing that Varric had gone up to ask Merrill some questions about the Dalish. "You don't have a problem working with another mage, do you?" she asked him softly. She doubted that he did, but her question had another purpose that was confirmed in the next moment when he looked down at her.
There was just the briefest flash of frustrated confusion in his eyes before his expression went carefully blank. "Why should I?" he asked mildly. "They've never done anything to me, besides help, that is."
"Oh, I don't know, maybe that whole demon possession thing? You know, when a mage succumbs to temptation and lets a demon take them over, they turn into abominations? Monsters," she clarified when she caught that confusion again. "Horrible, deformed monsters that attack everyone around them. That's why most people have a problem."
"Ah, of course, abominations," he agreed. He was quiet for a moment, something dark and unreadable passing across his face before he added, "Mages aren't the only ones capable of becoming monsters, you know. So no, until someone has given me a valid reason not to trust them, I won't judge."
She looked at him in no little shock, wondering just what he had meant by that. Was he merely referring to the fact that people were capable of doing awful things to each other without magic, or was it something more? She couldn't deny being pleased with his answer, though, and not just for Merrill's sake but for her own. "You won't judge, huh? That's nice to hear," she answered, unable to help smiling at him, and the genuinely bright smile he gave her in return made her heart skip a beat.
Before either of them could say anything further, Brianna noticed that they had arrived at another plateau, where a male elf with long dark hair wielding a bow and arrow was stationed at a campsite. Two paths diverged away from the plateau, one leading into a cave in the mountainside. He stood up as Merrill approached, stalking up to her with anger stamped all over his face. "So the Keeper finally found someone to take you from here."
"Yes," Merrill replied shortly, barely looking at him as she stopped and Brianna and the others came up next to her.
"Then finish your task quickly, human," the elven archer snapped at Brianna out in front. "We cannot be rid of this one too soon."
Varric raised his eyebrows from Merrill's side. "I'm sensing a story here."
"I have made my choice," Merrill told the other elf determinedly, but he was already brushing past her and walking straight at Brianna and the others, rudely bumping his way through as Merrill called after him, "And I will save our clan, whatever you think." The elf ignored her, continuing on his way down the mountain along the path they'd come up.
"What's going on here, Merrill?" Brianna asked, frowning as she watched the rude elf go. Just what could this girl have done to deserve that kind of treatment from her own clan?
Merrill shook her head sadly. "Nothing. Just ignorance. We should go."
Brianna felt as though she should say something more, but Merrill was already walking away, heading towards the cave entrance, so she simply followed. The others came along behind as well, all looking either disturbed or uncomfortable, with the exception of Fenris, who was expressionless as he most often was.
Merrill paused at the entrance to the cave, glancing back at them, the look on her face achingly sad. "I'm sorry. You're not really seeing the Dalish at their best. We're good people that look out for each other. Just not today, apparently."
Brianna had never been the best at comforting words, so she opted for humor instead, saying lightly, "But the Dalish are delightful! I was just thinking of inviting the whole clan over for tea."
Merrill frowned. "I'm sure they'd never accept an – Oh. Right. Sarcasm." The confusion on her face cleared, and Brianna shrugged apologetically as the young mage continued, "Even if my people don't appreciate my efforts, I must see this through. Let's go. Asha'bellanar isn't known for her patience."
They followed Merrill into the dark, dank cave, comprised of several small rooms and obviously fairly frequented, for there was even a set of wooden stairs built in leading up to a higher area in one cavern. There were also, however, several large spiders and more undead skeletons rising from the ground as Merrill led them along, forcing them to fight their way through the cave. Fortunately, between the six of them, none of the fights were too difficult, and they were soon out the other side, onto a level, circular area surrounded on three sides by a steep drop. Off to their left, a glowing blue barrier blocked the only way forward, a small entrance between two pillars. Brianna could see what looked like numerous stone monuments and graves on the other side.
"I can open the way forward," Merrill declared, striding towards the barrier. "One moment."
Brianna watched curiously, wondering what sort of old Dalish magic would be used to dissolve the barrier, but she wasn't prepared for what happened next. Merrill pulled a dagger out of her belt with her left hand, and slashed the palm of her right, causing blood to fountain forth. Instead of spilling to the ground, the droplets spread upwards into the air into a morbid cloud of red as Merrill lifted both hands before shoving them forwards towards the barrier. The barrier busted apart like so much shattered glass, leaving the way beyond clear as the blood disappeared as though it had never been there.
Brianna could only stare, appalled. She had felt the wrenching shift in the veil, the sensation of something awful being called forth when Merrill's blood had spilled. Had she really thought this elven girl sheltered and innocent? She suddenly, clearly understood the reason why Merrill was leaving her clan, why the archer had treated her so rudely. Blood magic was never to be used. Her father had drilled that lesson into her and Bethany early on; it was the one line never to be crossed in magic, for it inevitably led down the path to ruin. It was never okay to use; he had been very clear, very emphatic about that.
"Blood magic. Foolish, very foolish," Fenris said heavily, shaking his head as he looked at Merrill. Carver looked appalled, too, for though he was no mage, he'd heard their father's lectures on blood magic nearly as much as Brianna had. Varric merely looked sad, and Mardin's expression had already shifted to careful blankness; Brianna had little doubt he'd been confused again about everyone's reactions, but she'd already missed the moment.
"Yes, it was blood magic, but I know what I'm doing," Merrill explained hastily, clearly alarmed at their reactions. "The spirit helped us, didn't it?"
"Sure," Brianna said sarcastically. "Demons are very helpful . . . right up until they take your mind and turn you into a monster."
Merrill frowned slightly. "Well . . . yes. But that won't happen. I know how to defend myself."
Brianna shook her head, restraining the urge to shake the girl and ask her if she was insane. It was obvious that Merrill was blind to the problems with what she was doing; if her own clan hadn't convinced her that blood magic was wrong, there was no way a stranger could. "That's what everybody says, until they can't say anything anymore," she murmured.
Merrill looked away, saying quickly, "We should go, we're nearly there. But be careful up ahead. Restless things prowl the heights."
She was right, as it turned out; not far beyond the former barrier, just as they'd passed most of the monuments and were heading towards the large stone altar on the edge of the cliff, they were attacked by several more undead, along with a few spirits that were surprisingly strong. The undead posed no difficulty, but the spirits, especially some kind of shadow warrior, were probably one of the toughest fights Brianna had ever faced. She had to admit, had it not been for Merrill's help, as well as the combined strength of the rest of the party, they might not have all made it through. As it was, she had to heal several small wounds on the three fighters, and thought, not for the first time, that she needed to get Carver some actual armor. As soon as she could afford it, she promised herself, after the expedition. And perhaps something for Mardin, too; he clearly needed something better than the light chainmail that showed through the slashes in his tunic, already rent in places, and the equally light vambraces and greaves he wore on his arms and legs.
Once the fight was done, Brianna handed the amulet to Merrill, who approached the altar of stones bearing a strange blue-green flame in an urn, directly at the edge of a cliff overlooking a massive drop leading out into the mountain range. She performed some sort of strange ceremony involving a lot of chanting in Dalish; Brianna soon gave up trying to memorize all the words she didn't recognize. There was a flash of normal fire as the ceremony finished and Merrill tossed the amulet in, followed by a golden light that flared up so bright Brianna had to shield her eyes. She could hear a strange flapping sound as she did so, like wings, and then the light disappeared.
Brianna looked up, blinking, to see that Flemeth, the dragon witch herself, had appeared in front of the altar. She looked much the same as the last time Brianna had seen her in Ferelden, wearing what appeared to be formfitting armor of red dragon scales, overlaid with spiked steel gauntlets and high spiked greaves, black feathers sprouting from her shoulders. Most of her long white hair was somehow spiked back into horns, the remainder hanging loose down her back. She stood there, hands planted on her hips, exuding a frightening amount of power as she regarded all their stunned expressions with amusement shining out of her piercing golden eyes. Brianna could hear what sounded like a faint growl coming from her right, and turned to see Mardin there; he looked extremely tense, his hand on his sword, watching Flemeth with narrowed eyes as though he expected her to attack them all with no warning. Which, Brianna admitted, could be possible; she had no idea what strange motives the witch held.
"A witch!" Fenris snarled from Brianna's other side, reaching for his sword as well.
Merrill put up her hands, shaking her head at them, indicating they should all calm down. "It's all right, Fenris, she means us no harm." Merrill turned back to Flemeth. "Andaran atish'an, Asha'bellanar." The young elf finished the greeting with a deep bow, staying bent over.
Flemeth watched her coolly. "One of the people, I see, so young and bright. Do you know who I am, beyond that title?"
"I know only a little," Merrill murmured, staying where she was.
"Then stand," Flemeth told her. "The people bend their knee too quickly." Merrill straightened up hastily as the witch turned to Brianna. "So refreshing to see someone who keeps their end of a bargain. I half expected my amulet to end up in a merchant's pocket." She shrugged, going on, "In the end, I did not need it, but one can never be too careful."
"Well, you know, I did try to sell it, but no one wanted to buy it," Brianna said flippantly. She knew she was probably pushing it, but frustration tended to make her snarky, and in any case, Flemeth had seemed to enjoy her sarcasm rather than be offended by it before. "Maybe because it had a witch inside?"
"Just a piece," Flemeth answered, smiling slightly as she went on, "A small piece, but it was all I would have needed if things had gone differently. A bit of security, but in this case, it merely summoned me back here."
Her gaze had left Brianna as she talked, roaming over the others and studying them carefully, until it finally snapped over to Mardin, the witch's eyes widening just a fraction, but enough for Brianna to notice. "Ah, it appears you have finally arrived," Flemeth said to him, "but I had not expected to meet you myself. There is, however, someone else who has waited a long time for your arrival."
Finally arrived? What was that supposed to mean? Brianna wondered, startled, glancing over at Mardin, who sucked in a breath of surprise, exclaiming, "My sister! You've met her?"
The witch smiled slightly. "As a matter of fact, I have, though I have not seen her in some time now. She has done well with her new destiny, it would appear. We shall see if you do as well with yours. There is much to come."
"Where is she right now?" Mardin demanded, stepping slightly forward with his fists clenched. He seemed to have gotten over whatever had been alarming him about Flemeth as he faced her straight on now. "Do you know? Is she still okay?"
"Worry not," Flemeth told him mildly. "You will find her well enough on your own, though perhaps not where you were looking."
It appeared Flemeth was more cryptic than ever, Brianna thought wryly, though she couldn't help but find it very interesting that Flemeth seemed to know so much about Mardin and his sister. And what was all this talk of destinies and arriving? Her first instincts, it appeared, had been quite right. There was far more to Mardin than met the eye, but Flemeth was the least likely person to give her a straight answer. She would have to talk to Anders soon, she decided; he might be able to tell her something that would answer her questions, since it seemed that no one else would at the moment.
"You are no simple witch," Fenris declared as Flemeth finished her statement to Mardin.
"Figured that out yourself, did you?" Flemeth asked dryly, smirking at the elf.
Fenris frowned, ignoring the jab as he said, "I have seen powerful mages, spirits, and abominations. But you are none of those things. What are you?"
"She is a Messenger, she has to be," Mardin murmured, more to himself than anyone else, it seemed, and Brianna looked at him again, curiously. A Messenger? What in the Maker's name was that?
Flemeth cast an amused glance in Mardin's direction, obviously having heard what he'd said, and chuckled, before turning back to Fenris. "Such a curious lad," she drawled. "The chains are broken, but are you truly free?"
Fenris recoiled slightly, a look of surprise flashing over his face, and Brianna couldn't hide her own surprise. How had Flemeth known that? Just what sort of powers did this dragon witch have? "You see a great deal," Fenris said after a moment.
Flemeth studied him for a minute longer, before finally giving him yet another one of her cryptic answers. "I am a fly in the ointment. I am a whisper in the shadows. I am also an old, old woman. More than that, you need not know."
"So what now?" Brianna asked at last, her mind whirling with all the questions she now had. Flemeth had only made her curiosity that much worse. "You have plans, I take it?"
"Destiny awaits us all, dear girl," Flemeth said simply as she turned back to her. "We have much to do. But before I go, a word of advice?" She paced over to the edge of the cliff, looking out over the mountains beyond before glancing back. "We stand upon the precipice of change. The world fears the inevitable plummet into the abyss. Watch for that moment . . . and when it comes, do not hesitate to leap. It is only when you fall that you learn whether you can fly."
"Well, I imagine it's much easier to fly when you're a dragon," Brianna remarked dryly, more than a little frustrated with Flemeth's vague allusions to destiny. Why was it so hard for the witch to just say what she meant? To just tell Brianna what she needed to watch out for?
Flemeth watched her, a glint of amusement in her eyes as if she knew what Brianna was thinking. And maybe she did, Brianna thought sourly, as the witch shrugged. "We all have our challenges."
"Are we going to regret bringing her here?" Carver asked quietly, having come up on Brianna's left side.
"Regret is something I know well," Flemeth said, her gaze now piercing through Carver, who looked uncomfortable at being the center of the witch's attention. "Take care not to cling to it, to hold it so close that it poisons your soul. When the time comes for your regrets, remember me." She turned to Merrill, next, saying with the most gravity Brianna had yet heard from her, "As for you, child, step carefully. No path is darker than when your eyes are shut."
Maybe she could see into people's minds and futures, Brianna thought wonderingly. She'd certainly nailed Merrill's problem, in any case. Merrill didn't meet the witch's eyes as she replied, bowing low again, "Ma serannas, Asha'bellanar."
"Now the time has come for me to leave," Flemeth declared. "You have my thanks . . . and my sympathy." She looked straight at Brianna as she said this, and it gave Brianna a sudden chill down her spine. Great. Sympathy from a dragon witch could only mean her destiny was something awful. Flemeth turned away, heading to the edge of the cliff where she was suddenly enveloped in a glowing golden light, which spread outwards and upwards into the form of the immense dragon she had been the day she'd saved Brianna and her family from the darkspawn. As soon as the light disappeared, Flemeth leapt off the cliff, soaring away across the mountains, through the cloudy sky of the late afternoon.
"By the Goddess," Mardin whispered as he stared after her, seeming to forget that the others were there. "A dragon . . . like King Escal."
Brianna nearly groaned in exasperation. Like she needed to add more mysteries to the ever-growing pile! She was done for today, she decided. She needed to stop thinking about all of this or else her brain was going to explode. "Well, that was fun," she declared, turning back to the others. "Let's not do that again. We need to get back to the camp, so we can get to Kirkwall before dark. We only have a few hours of daylight left."
"That was fun, Hawke!" Varric exclaimed, scrambling after her as she headed for the cave determinedly, not bothering to see if everyone else was following. "I never thought I'd get to see your darkspawn dragon savior myself! Honestly, I always thought you'd been the one to embellish that, but there really is a witch that can turn into a dragon!"
"Yeah, I know it sounds completely unbelievable when I tell it, but there you have it." Brianna waved behind her at where Flemeth had disappeared. "A cryptic, mind-reading, fortune-telling dragon witch that keeps popping out of nowhere and talking about my destiny. Even you couldn't make that one up."
"Too true," Varric agreed as they headed back into the cave. "The best stories are the ones so far-fetched I would never have dreamed of coming up with them in the first place. I'll have to think on this one for a while; I don't think it needs embellishing."
"No, it really doesn't," Brianna muttered. "But hey, if you come up with any explanations for all the cryptic fortune-telling, let me know. I'm too tired to puzzle it out myself right now."
"Will do, Hawke." Varric began whistling cheerfully as he went along, whipping out a small journal and scribbling away hastily in it. Brianna sighed. Well, if he was going to write it all down, maybe she could read it later and figure it out then.
It didn't take them long to return to the camp, and they stopped briefly by Marethari's fire to say good-bye before they left. The Keeper tried once more to talk Merrill out of leaving, but the young elf seemed determined, and in another few moments, they were leaving the Dalish camp.
No one talked much on the way back; Brianna suspected they were all as exhausted and confused as she was, and by the time they reached Kirkwall, it was growing dark and the first stars had begun to appear in the night sky. They took Merrill to the alienage first, though Brianna wanted nothing more than to go to sleep, and she sighed when she saw the dawning horror in the young mage's eyes as they arrived in the small, squalid corner of Kirkwall where the elves lived. It was really just a tiny square, with each elf living in a small, cramped room built into the walls around the edge of the square. In the center was a stunted looking tree, and there were a few booths along another wall selling some wares, and some crates stacked here and there among the garbage and the hollow-eyed elves still wandering the area.
"Elgar'nan," Merrill gasped, looking around them. "Is this . . . is this really where the elves live?"
"Yes, this is it," Fenris said shortly, looking equally displeased at the treatment of his fellow elves.
"Not the prettiest part of Kirkwall, but it doesn't have a view of the giant chains," Varric said, in an obvious attempt to cheer Merrill up. "Take what you can get."
"I didn't think it would be so . . . so . . ." Merrill looked slowly around, shaking her head. "I've never seen so many people in one place before. It seems so lonely."
Brianna sighed. As tired as she was, she couldn't stand to see the poor girl looking so depressed. Somehow, she really was a naïve, sheltered blood mage, as odd as it sounded, and in spite of the blood magic, Brianna still wanted to help her and cheer her up. She simply couldn't find it in her heart to condemn the young elf. "Well, think of it as an adventure!" she exclaimed, trying to make her voice as cheerful as possible. "It will be fun . . . eventually," she amended, when Merrill looked at her in obvious disbelief.
Merrill smiled tremulously after a moment, nodding. "Some adventurer I am. Barely set out, and I'm already daunted. Thank you for everything. For all your help." Her face was full of sincere gratitude and hope as she went on, "Will you come visit me? Not now, of course. But maybe later? I could use a friend."
Brianna nodded, unable to help the smile that came to her face at the elf's sincere sweetness. "Of course. But only because you used that 'you kicked my puppy' voice."
Merrill beamed at her. "Thank you. I'm thanking you too much, aren't I? I mean it, though."
"You're welcome," Brianna said gently. In the end, they left Merrill in the care of the alienage's leader, who had apparently been informed by Marethari about Merrill's arrival beforehand, and he took Merrill to a room of her own as they all left to make their way home for the night. Brianna noticed that Carver looked back for a long moment before hurrying after them, and couldn't quite decide if she was amused or alarmed that Merrill being a blood mage didn't seem to have affected her brother's developing crush any.
They headed for Lowtown next, and at the Hanged Man, Varric asked if they all wanted to come in for a hand of Wicked Grace and a drink. Carver agreed immediately, and to Brianna's surprise, so did Fenris. She shook her head, however. "I'm far too tired, Varric," she told her dwarven friend. "I'll have to take you up on that another night."
"I'll have to turn you down too, I'm afraid," Mardin said with a shrug. "I don't have the energy left to learn a new card game tonight."
Varric nodded. "Next time, then," he declared, before heading inside the Hanged Man, Carver and Fenris following.
"Do you need me to show you the way back to Fenris's place?" Brianna asked as the two of them headed away from the tavern.
Mardin shook his head. "No, thank you, I remember. I'll walk you back to your place, though."
"You don't need to do that," she protested. "I can take care of myself."
"Of course you can." He nodded agreeably. "Normally. But you're tired and you've used a lot of magic today, right?"
She sighed, and nodded reluctantly. She had, and she didn't have any more lyrium potions at the moment, nor much magical energy left to produce a spell if she needed to. "You have a point, I suppose. Just this once, then."
He grinned at her. "Good." As she led him in the direction of Gamlen's house in Lowtown, he looked back briefly at the Hanged Man and chuckled. "Seems your brother is interested in Merrill, hmm?"
"It does seem that way, doesn't it?" Brianna smiled in spite of herself. Carver hadn't shown interest in a girl in a while, not since they'd left Ferelden; maybe this would be good for him, in spite of the whole blood mage thing. "I'm surprised you didn't flirt with her," she added.
"Me?" He looked at her in surprise. "She's pretty enough, I suppose, but she's not my type."
"Really? I would have thought 'female' was your type," Brianna said teasingly, though she was half serious about it. Mardin did strike her as the completely shameless flirt sort of a man, and it was one of the reasons she found herself cautious about her attraction to him.
He cast her a wry look. "Do you really think me so shallow? I'll have you know that I do have a type. I like my women feisty, like you."
"Feisty?" Brianna raised her eyebrows. True, she wouldn't have used that word to describe Merrill, but . . . "You really think I'm feisty?"
"You really think you're not?" he asked her in return, grinning.
"Well, I suppose I might be," she admitted after a moment. It might not have been the first word that came to her mind when she thought of herself, but she supposed it did apply.
"You are feisty," he confirmed for her, his voice taking on a low, husky quality that made her shiver as he went on, "and you're recklessly brave, unbelievably compassionate, astonishingly beautiful, and you smell . . . amazing. Like vanilla and citrus. You are so very much my type."
How did he know that she bathed using the vanilla and lemon soap that her mother had taught her and Bethany how to make in Ferelden? she wondered, astonished. Her face was bright red by now, she knew, and her pulse was racing and her defences melting at his charming words. Fortunately, she spotted the stairs up to Gamlen's place at that moment, just ahead of them. "Well, we're here," she said, slightly breathlessly, as she stopped by the stairs, looking up at him as he stopped as well.
It was difficult to see his eyes in the darkness, but she didn't doubt they were several shades darker than normal, and she could feel every inch of the charged space between them as he looked down at her, but he didn't move any closer, obviously waiting for her to give him permission. She really, really wanted to, but she still didn't really know anything about him, she reminded herself fiercely. And just because he hadn't flirted with Merrill, didn't mean she was anything more to him than another feisty conquest to add to his list. But it was really hard to remember that after getting such a head-spinning compliment. Maker, was she in trouble. "Thank you for walking me home . . . and thank you . . . for that compliment. It was one of the nicest things anyone's ever said about me."
He smiled at her. "And every word of it was true, so you are most welcome. But it is still not enough, I take it?" She forced herself to shake her head no, not quite able to get the word itself out. "That's fine. As you pointed out, I am remarkably persistent. Have a good night, Brianna, I'll see you in the morning."
"Yes, the morning," she managed to get out, pleased that her voice sounded reasonably even. "We'll figure out what to do next." She did need to find some more jobs for the expedition; she would look through her mail in the morning and decide where they would go next, she reminded herself.
"Indeed we will," he smirked at her, his tone laden with suggestion before he turned and walked away.
She watched him go for a long moment before she recovered the brainpower to head up the stairs. Yes, she was very much in trouble when it came to Mardin. But perhaps, once she knew him better and knew what he was hiding, it would be all right if she allowed herself to have fun for once, wouldn't it? She couldn't recall ever being this attracted to a man before, and it would be a shame to waste such attraction, after all. She didn't always have to be the responsible one, no matter what her mother thought, she decided, before turning and heading into the house.