a/n- Well, here it is, the first chapter of the third main mission, In Hushed Whispers. Luckily, many of the missions after this are much swifter. So they shouldn't come out to be 12-14 chapters long, but you never know.
That being said, I feel I must apologize for the extent to which I have let this story go these past few weeks. Unfortunately the reality of the end of a college semester is upon me now and I find it very difficult to find the time to pull away from it and actually write you guys something. I also was tied up with my Morrigan cosplay, which needed some serious finishing touches before I debuted it last weekend. However, I am started at least on the next chapter so hopefully I will have that up for you later this week as well although I wouldn't be so certain as I do have a self-created fiction that must be turned in next Sunday and I will be devoting most of my writing time to that.
The Honor of Wardens
A man was standing outside the Chantry as Enya stepped through the doors hours later. His hair was razor short around his ears and longer on the top of his head. The long section was parted in the middle and fell over as though in a half-assed attempt to hide the peach fuzz on the sides. He was broad shouldered and wore the armour of a Free Marcher, though he didn't seem to bear the laziness or arrogance that usually accompanied such heritage. When he saw her, he straightened and moved closer, arms falling to his sides.
"I have a message for the Inquisition," he said smoothly and she detected a Tevinter roll in his speech. Her shoulders tightened, "But no one will hear me."
Enya considered him and deemed him honest before she replied, "What would you say to them?"
A smile tugged at the man's face, "Tell them that Iron Bull, merc company commander of the Bull's Chargers wishes to join their order."
"Why doesn't he come here and tell that to us himself?" She raised an eyebrow at him, "Why send you?"
The man remained silent for the next moment as he considered her and answered slowly after a few seconds had ticked by, "We caught wind of a group of Tevinter mages working some suspicious magic up on the Storm Coast. Iron Bull is with some of the other Chargers taking care of that problem. As for why he sent me, well, of the men in the Chargers, I'm the one with the best people skills," the mercenary paused, "Guess he figured I wouldn't rub anyone the wrong way."
Her head tipped slightly to the side and then she replied, "You certainly do your job well," she paused, "What did you say your name was?
"Didn't. You can call me Krem," He gave her a lopsided smirk.
She nodded, "Alright, Krem, I will pass on your message."
Krem crossed his arms and dropped a hip, "If you want to see what the chargers are made of, come up to the Storm coast. You can watch us clear out these Tevinters."
Enya left him there hurrying down the hill to her cabin. The paths were covered by the drifts of snow from the gale and she had to wind her way through wind-burnished divets left by the passing of others through the camp. The warm light of a fire in the hearth beckoned her in the darkness of the evening. The sun set so early on the eastern side of the Frostbacks that even this early there was little light in the sky.
By the brown frame of her door, her pack had been placed, along with a paper-wrapped package of food for the road. A sigh gushed from her lips as she unbuckled sword and armour and hung the tired items over the small table and chair by the empty shelf in the corner. She would not pity herself for her duties. Even if some great weight had been placed on her shoulders by some human diety, she would bear it gracefully. No matter how much she doubted the conclusions to which the people of Thedas had arrived, the mark on her hand was powerful. As its aching pain pulsed up her hand, she lowered herself onto the feather mattress, again startled by how accustomed she had become to this level of comfort when sleeping. In the morning, they would leave for Redcliffe Village, speak with the Mages, then perhaps she could heal the Veil and the pain would leave her.
Lake Lothias was a beautiful sight. Sitting high above the Hinterlands, it glistened, crystal clear, in the afternoon sun. The camp they'd established sat next to the first tier of a high waterfall, and if it hadn't been in such close proximity to the camp, Enya might have risked showering in it. She felt, however, that in the interest of some modesty, doing so would have been in poor taste.
Enya sat near the water, her toes bare and washed by the splashes of the falling cascade as she leaned over a missive from Leliana detailing the information she had on the warden Blackwall's whereabouts and activities since he'd entered the Hinterlands. It was unnerving how easily the Inquisition's spymaster had acquired this level of information on a person of which the Left Hand had no personal knowledge. If that were true, how much information did Leliana have on her, a woman the Inquisition prized and supported above all else? If they did not discourage the world calling her The Herald of Andraste, was it because they knew that she was in some ways worthy of the name, her past unmarred in their eyes? Enya shook her head and rose from her seat at the water's edge. There were times for considering the reality of her position, but it was not this time.
Cassandra leaned against a tree, rubbing blood specs from her shield. The Seeker looked up at her approach, laying the Inquisition shield to the side.
"Where do the scouts say we will find this Warden?"
Enya handed her the parchment but answered anyway, "We are not far. There is a cabin to the side of the lake that has been vacant until quite recently. It follows that this would be an opportune place for an individual who is passing through to stop."
"That would follow," Cassandra pushed herself up from the ground, "We should go before we lose light. If at all possible, I would like to make it to Redcliffe by nightfall."
The lake at the top of the rise was more vast than Enya expected. They encountered bandits as they crested the slope. It had become all too easy to cleave and slash flesh from bone. The party continued, taking up an arching path around the lake toward a dock and a cabin that belched smoke into the sky from its location on the far shore. As they drew close to it, shapes took truer form: a man in a deep brown hauberk paced before a group of wiry farmers with unsteady blades. His gruff voice carried through a thick beard to reach Enya's ears as he explained to them the reasoning of killing. Conscripts, he called them, and she knew they had found their man.
"Warden Blackwall!" she called out as they drew near.
The man in brown raised his sword at her voice and there was a flash of unhindered fear in his eyes before they narrowed. Enya, brought up short by the point of his blade at her chest, raised her chin. Blackwall's visage loosened and he lowered his blade a fraction of the way to the ground so it pointed instead at her stomach.
"I didn't know my name was being handed out to…"
His words halted as his shield flew up to block an arrow. Enya ducked as the tip stuck through the other side and wrenched her blade free of its sheath.
"Either help these men or get out of here," Blackwall commanded and turned to rally the farmers he'd brought together.
The group of bandits was small but strong. They fell on the farmers and Enya's party with a ferocity that could only be fueled by a misplaced sense of prowess. Enya cleaved the arm of the first man clean from his body as he swung at her. His scream was silenced by the stab of her greatsword through his heart. Another fell before her, his leather breastplate no match for the power of Bianaca. The spray of blood from his throat narrowly missed her as she sidestepped. Solas froze one of the men and the farmers attacked him, leaving behind deep gouges in his ice-coated flesh. Blackwall took his time with the bandit he fought but she recognized his speed to be the calculated cuts of a soldier. Clearly he had undergone extensive training under the Wardens.
The last bandit fell as Cassandra bashed his head back with her shield. His jaw snapped to the side and his head cracked on a rock. For good measure, the Seeker plunged her sword through his chest. Blackwall stalked past Enya as her eyes lifted from the crimson ground.
"You fought well," he thrust the tip of his sword into the dirt as he addressed the men, "They won't bother you again. Go back to your families, take back what these men have stolen."
He paced over to the shore and knelt, dipping his hands into the water. Enya studied the cold hunch of his back as pink water dripped from his hand. Her eyes met Cassandra's warily and she realized that her fellow warrior was just as questioning of this man as she. Enya made to move forward but the man known as Blackwall rose from the banks and spoke.
"Bandits take advantage of the weakness left by the Templars and Mages. They split open scabbing wounds and make them bleed. The farmers needed help," He commented as he turned to her, "It seems I'm at something of a disadvantage. You know of me, but I have heard nothing of you."
At the calculation in his tone, Enya relaxed and sheathed her blade. He was intelligent yet cautious, but she did not sense that he sought to harm them. At least there was one person in Thedas who didn't wish them dead.
"We are the Inquisition," she answered, "And we come with questions. You're a Grey Warden, are you not?"
Blackwall did not face her directly but instead peered at her like a dog cornered by children with stones, "That I am. What of it?"
Enya narrowed her eyes at him, "Why have you not disappeared like the other Wardens?"
"Have they?" he evaded with skill and he stepped forward to retrieve his sword.
"They have," Enya replied, following his movements, "More importantly, why don't you know about it?"
She glared at him, pressing on his evasions. The Warden wiped the blood from the blade on the grass and then sheathed it before answering.
"I recruit Wardens, Inquisition. It is months at a time before I meet another Warden, especially in this part of the world," he stood before her, arms crossed in challenge.
"You recruit farmers then?"
Blackwall scowled, "No. But I help them. They may not show much prowess with a blade but they can defend their livelihood with a little training."
Cassandra's skeptical voice rose in response, "I have never heard of a Warden taking interest in anything beyond the Blight."
Blackwall glowered at her, "The Wardens are not so self-absorbed to think that the Blight is their only concern. Our duty is to protect Thedas from destruction, at the hand of the blight or by other means."
"So then, the Grey Warden's disappearance couldn't possibly have any relation to what happened at the Conclave?"
Enya's eyes flickered over his face for any recognition or guilt at her words but he showed nothing beyond shock and outrage.
"You asking me if…" he began to pace, quick strides breaking the coarse grass under his boots, "I don't know what would have led you or your Order to think the Wardens were involved in the Divine's death, but I assure you, they would not have done such a thing. The Conclave was a great tragedy and a blow to peace in Thedas. I know you want answers, but you won't find them going down this road."
With a sigh, Enya nodded, "Thank you, Warden Blackwall, you've answered everything I've asked. I'm sorry to have bothered you."
It had been a promising lead. The coincidence of the Warden's disappearance had seemed as convenient to her as it had to Leliana when the words had fallen from the Spymaster's lips, but it seemed the answers left only more questions. Enya let out a frustrated breath as she walked away from Blackwall. If not because of the Conclave, why were the Wardens disappearing? Blackwall seemed a man of integrity to her; she did not doubt his words.
"Inquisition!"
Enya paused at Blackwall's hesitant call and turned. He took a few steps toward her, an awkward jolt forward, shoulders tight, as though he were still not sure he wanted to say anything. She glanced at Cassandra, who seemed equally confused by his outburst, but the warrior nodded to her.
"Yes?" Enya answered.
"Seems to me you might use a Warden," Blackwall's hesitance faded with her acknowledgement.
Enya stared at him for a moment, "And what would a Warden give the Inquisition?"
Blackwall surprised her by chuckling, "Some legitimacy if you ask me. You're a new Order in Thedas and you're doing good things from what I've seen, but you have no real claims or ties. The Wardens have treaties signed by factions all across Thedas."
"I was under the impression those were only for use during Blights," Cassandra interjected.
"They are for times when the known world is in great danger," He replied, "It might not be a Blight but I think the Breach qualifies."
Cassandra narrowed her eyes but said no more. Enya considered him. Again, he told the truth. But could they really trust a man they had just met?
"You would give the Inquistion these treaties?" She asked.
"Not give," Blackwall moved closer, "I would join and bring with me the right to use these treaties."
Enya considered his offer for a moment and then bowed her head, a small smile creeping onto her features, "I think that we would be lucky to have a man of your confidence, Blackwall."
"Thank you, Inquisition," Blackwall clasped a hand over his heart, "Where shall I find you?"
Cassandra answered, "We make our home at Haven, Warden, but you may also find passage with a party of our soldiers. There are camps across the Hinterlands."
"Thank you, my lady, but I think I'll make my own way," He might have smiled under his beard, if the gentle shift of brown hairs around his mouth was anything to go by, "I'm used to making my own way."
With that, he nodded to them and left, disappearing over the far side of the hill. A soft gust of wind tossed the loose strands of Enya's hair over her shoulder as she stood staring out over the Valley beyond the lake. The sun filtered down upon the trees far below, drying the moss that grew to cover the tops of the barren rocks. In the distance, on the peak of a hill, the haze was thin enough for her to spot the fortress of Redcliffe. They had a good day's ride ahead of them before they would reach it.
"I've met a few Wardens in my day," Varric commented, "He's the least prickly of them."
Enya smirked as she turned back to the blonde dwarf, "Are you sure it's the Wardens that are prickly?"
"Well, might be I haven't thought of it that way," Varric commented and swung Bianca over his back.
Enya began the journey back around the lake for the water moved too quickly and ran too deep for them to ford at the precipice of the waterfall.
"We should be on our way if we want to reach the village tonight."
She moved past Varric toward the waterfall and nearly missed the thoughtful expressoin on Solas' face as he gazed at her. It was as though he grasped at something in his mind that he culdn't quite reach. The moment her eyes met his, however, his intense look faded, replaced by stoic consideration. He nodded toward the path back around the lake.
"We follow you, Herald of Andraste," He the corners of his lips lifted slightly.
Enya began the journey back around the lake for the water moved too quickly and ran too deep for them to ford at the precipice of the waterfall. They retrieved their horses from the camp and road toward the cross roads and beyond. She followed the signs along the road from atop her broad bay mare, and failed to notice that Solas spoke the truth.