Chapter 20) Break

Cleon POV

She likes the nights here in Kirkwall. At night, she's relatively certain she's somewhat safer. She's indoors, and everyone is asleep, save when Gamlen sometimes sneaks into her room to look for spare change. That means there's no people to watch, no people to be afraid of. Because she's always afraid, afraid someone might sense how abnormal she was. Sense the magic in her blood. Sense it and then drag her away from the Circle she always ran from and, worse, bring the templars' wrath on her family. After so many years of her family sacrificing so much to keep her safe. Oh, if only she could somehow pull the magic from her veins, and be normal. ...Well, relatively normal. 'Normal' might require a different family, and she doesn't want that. She loves her family. That's why she hates her magic so much. If she had to have it, could it at least have been some sort of story, where she knows it'll all end up happy, with her whisked away with a prince or something? Not here in Kirkwall, where...

"What are you doing hiding under the covers, Bethany?" All at once, her blankets are ripped off and there's bright and shining Vesta grinning at her. Literally bright and shining, as her sister has conjured up three light-globes to help her see as she walks. Because Vesta has never been afraid of her magic, never wished it away. It was something she reveled in, just as she reveled in life itself. "Reading a story, little princess?" Vesta asks with a grin sparkling and vivacious. She envies how easily Vesta takes to magic. She envies her confidence. "Well, perhaps not. You would be dancing about with the book if you were."

"That was one time!" she laughingly protests, sitting up. Already, she feels better. That's just how things always were. Nothing bad ever happened when Vesta was near. "Maker, you'll never let it go! You're like Orion with a bone!"

"What? It's adorable!" Vesta laughs and she feels the world brighten once more. Yes, she likes the nights. The nights let her sister shine even brighter and that's when she's safest. "Here, we'll read together. Scooch over."

Before Layla left, she asked me for a very specific favor: try to keep Nuada from overworking. This was harder than it sounded for many reasons. One, Nuada was a masochistic idiot who somehow genuinely forgot things like sleep and food were things when he was busy and, thus, required multiple reminders he needed both to survive. Two, despite staying up to the most unholy of hours every day to work without rest or food until forced otherwise, it felt like the piles of papers on the desk in his work-room did not grow smaller. At all. Even when I sacrificed sunlight and fresh breeze to help. For two days. Mythal, what sort of protection did you give him to not die yet? All logic says he should've suffocated from being buried in papers or died from thousands of papercuts. Or boredom. Death by boredom was definitely a worry.

'Why are we getting so many damn letters?' I signed at some point, staring at the paper in my hand. It defied comprehension. What even was a mortgage? The writer wrote as if it was something important, but I couldn't for the life of me think of why. 'Just why?'

'Many wish to brag about exchanging letters with heroes,' Nuada answered, signing with one hand while writing something down with the other. And reading a third thing. All while looked poised and even comfortable in these damn chairs that were definitely not made for hours of sitting. Yet here we both were. 'It makes them feel important.' Then he held his hand out in an unspoken request to hand my letter to him. Reluctantly, I did so. Without knowing what it was talking about, I couldn't decide if it was junk or not. It took him all of a second to skim through. 'Some, however, simply want our money.' He balled it up and threw it over his shoulder to join the rest of the junk. There were quite a few scattered across the floor; one of us would properly clean them up later. 'A mortgage is a type of loan, Cleon.'

'So, it's a weird shemlen word for a favor?'

'No, well…' He got a thoughtful look on his face. 'I suppose so. In this case, though, it involves money.'

'Ah, that's what you meant.' Money would always remain strange to me. I just knew it. 'Why would they ask us for this loan then?'

'You have the wrong order. Reverse the asker and loaner.' ...They wanted us to ask for a loan? Why? 'Keeps do require upkeep.'

'I know little of shemlen money still, but don't we have far too much?'

'I wouldn't say 'far' too much, but we aren't hurting for it either, thanks to the money from Weisshaupt.' Something about compensation for those lost and rewards for the Blight. Think the First Warden also just wanted us to succeed for their own agenda, but I had no proof of that. Just my gut feeling. 'That is why I threw it. It can be kindling later.'

'Right.' I looked about the room, studying it for the umpteenth time. Nuada had commandeered an empty study not far from his own rooms for his work-room, and it was fairly spacious. Simple with the barest of decorations, unless one counted the balls of paper rolling on the ground. It was lit with various candles and a roaring fire in the fireplace, and one window angled to catch as much sunlight as possible, with a beautiful view of the lands beyond the Keep's walls. The waving trees just within sight taunted me. I wanted to be outside, not here. Preferably with Nuada so he might actually rest. But Nuada claimed he needed to get through these papers, and I wanted to help, so I reluctantly turned away to go through the small pile in front of me. And nearly elbowed one of the paper towers off the desk, but Nuada caught it without looking. Somehow.

Shaking my head, I snatched the first letter I could reach and glanced through. Addressed to the 'Wardens', and the signature at the bottom... was a name I knew, actually, if not necessarily with that title. But it made sense. After all, Faladhin had been his Clan's Second and with Keeper Ilshae dead and Velanna with us... he of course would be the one to be Keeper. A title he truthfully never expected to have, but the Creators spun our paths where they wished. But since I did know him, I settled in my chair, ignoring the pain in my ass and back from sitting so long, and read it fully. It wasn't much, more of an official acknowledgement of Velanna's exile than anything. Only the last lines felt personal, speaking of how he was not surprised by her choices and how he hoped her shattered heart might heal among us Wardens. And how he hoped, one day, she would feel comfortable enough to visit the Clan in the Settlement. Knowing Velanna, though... it no doubt would be a very long while. And, also knowing her, showing her any bit of this would launch quite the tirade. So, once I finished, I set it to the side, to store in a safe place later. Then I picked up the next letter to read... and sighed when I glanced through. The words were well enough, and not confusing, but...

'What is it?' Nuada, of course, caught it immediately. He held out his hand when he finished signing, but I shook my head. I didn't need something deciphered. 'What is it?' he instead repeated, shifting his focus completely to me. 'Is it bad news?'

'No,' I replied, reading over again. Then I found spare paper to write: 'Who is Mother Giselle?'

'She is a revered mother in...' He reached across the desk to scribble out a name on my paper: Jader. Then he was back to signing and reading. And writing. What sort of madness did he have to keep track of it all? 'It is currently dealing with a large influx of refugees.'

'Why is that?'

'It's the nearest major Orlesian city to Fereldan.' Ah, that answered the next question of why. Most had fled the Blight. Would any return? Would any have a home to return to? Impossible to say. I prayed Mythal guided and protected them as they tried to piece things together. 'Why ask?'

'She wrote us a letter.' I looked through it again, feeling... both bitter and amused. 'She writes how we are doing the Maker's work.'

Nuada's reply was instant. 'Maybe one day, the Maker will do his own damn work.' He then paused, and looked up from his paper with a quirked brow and a sardonic smile. 'Then again, maybe he shouldn't. He's so bad at it that he has to depend on one who worships a completely different set of deities to get anything done.'

'You signed it, not me.' But my own bitter amusement spiked. 'I wonder how long it'll take the shemlen to conveniently forget that.'

'I personally am surprised it hasn't happened already.' He took the letter from me and skimmed it. 'Still, I think she meant it in good faith.' Oh, I had no doubt. Just with how little I thought of the Shemlen's Maker... 'I think I will wait to reply, though, until I am feeling a little more charitable.' He set it to the side and went back to work. 'There's no sense in alienating a potential ally so quickly, and allies in the Chantry will only be a boon for us in the future.'

'If only to keep them from attacking us.' I went back to my pile, and... 'Oh, this is for you.' It had his name and everything, written in a steady hand. 'Here.'

'Thanks.' He took it with a curious frown, flipping it open with practiced ease. Sadly, whatever it was wasn't good. His frown deepened too much. 'Well, no one can say Greagoir isn't prompt on replies.'

'The Knight-Commander?' Why would he be writing?

'Yes, I asked him about Cullen.'

'Cullen…?' I knew that name from somewhere. I knew I did. It still took me a while to piece it together, yet what little I remembered was… 'From the tower?'

'Yes.' Nuada looked at me curiously, noticing how slow I was signing, and I tried to figure out my thoughts. I saw him from a distance, once, during the Siege of Denerim. Never interacted personally. I did know, though, he had been Layla's first love. 'You have the most interesting expressions right now.'

'Why are you looking for him?' Better to just move things along. If this was anyone else, I'd say it was a jealousy thing. Or some other form of insecurity. But if Nuada was the type to feel such, I highly doubted he'd ever act on it. So, this was for something else. I was sure of it.

'I want to finish our chess game.' He grinned, like a cat snatching a bird from the skies. I immediately debated whether or not I wanted to hit him. Decided against it. For now. 'We met in the Tower, and had a mental chess game as a means of trying to reassure him. I think it worked, until Layla, Leliana, and Wynne joined us.'

'So, you are tracking him down to finish it?'

'Well, we couldn't when we met during the Siege.' He shrugged, grin fading. 'Layla's also been worried. She may no longer love him as she did, but she's still fond of him.' He paused then before suddenly becoming terribly sheepish. He wouldn't even look me in the eye. 'It just occurred to me how it looks for me to be hunting for my love's former crush.'

'Wasn't going to say anything.' But I would grin now. He could only roll his eyes. 'So secure in your place! Though, given how you made Layla jealous during the Landsmeet...'

'We had a talk about it!' Nuada flushed, and I remembered how they had been occupied for quite a few hours afterwards. So, my grin only widened and his flush darkened. 'You are a terrible person.'

'I have to tease at least a little.' I nodded to the letter sitting in front of him, switching back to the original topic and giving him time to recover. 'So, you were looking for him both for your chess game and to placate Layla's worries?' More the latter than the former, knowing him. In fact, the former was likely just a mask.

'Yes.' His flush slowly cooled and he picked up the letter again, using his free hand to sign. 'He was transferred out of Kinloch Hold, as you can imagine.'

'What was the official survival rate again?'

'I think it's around ten percent.' Nuada flinched at the memory, and I could only smile sympathetically. From what I understood, there were still areas blocked off due to damages, corpses, and blood. 'He became rather... zealous afterwards.'

'Hard to blame him, given what he suffered.' I might not like it personally, but I knew well the generalization that came from repeated tragedy. How many times had shemlen attacked my people, set the woods aflame to chase us out? I still thought most were idiots at best. It was safer. 'I thought the Chantry liked that sort of them in their Templars.'

'The Chantry might, but Greagoir is apparently well known for his relative laxness.' He paused, no doubt biting back his next few words. I knew I had to physically stop myself from signing; Layla's past did not imply 'laxness' to me. 'Between that and wanting to get him away from trauma, Cullen was transferred. At first, it was to a chantry in...' He found another spare piece of paper to write out the name: 'Greenfell'. 'It's a small village in the northeast.'

'Sounds perfect for healing.' But if that was all this was, Nuada wouldn't be frowning. 'You said 'at first'.'

'Yeah, that's what the letter is about.' It was telling he balled said letter up and tossed it straight into the fire instead of on the floor with the others. 'He's in Kirkwall now.'

'Isn't that where Layla is from?' It was also near Sundermount where my Clan was. Weird coincidence, that.

'It is, and it is also home to a Circle so terrible Layla's family bribed the Chantry to get her sent far away from it.' Nuada glowered at the ashes. 'She says it has always had trouble with blood mages and demons, and is infamous in the Circles as the most restrictive.'

'...' I tried and failed three times before finally figuring out how to sign out my reply. 'So, they sent the one broken by demons and blood mages to a place bursting with demons and blood mages?' Nuada's curt nod was the only response. 'The Chantry is filled with idiots.'

'Oh, no, they aren't idiots. What better place to put someone who can no longer think of mages as people?' His sharp signs only underlined how furious he was, even if the glare was the only expression on his face. 'He won't question their orders. Why would he? He knows the danger better than most.'

'...' This time, it took me five times. My anger made it hard to think. Oh, it was all too easy to see now. They put him where he'd best serve as their weapon, instead of where he might actually heal. 'I hate your Chantry.'

'I do too, and I am not looking forward to telling Layla this.' She'd no doubt piece it together just as quickly, if not quicker. 'Oh, this reminds me.'

'With that as your leads in?' Deciding to try and move forward, if only because I had no one to stab, I picked up the next paper on my pile and glanced over. A Barris family, some sort of nobility, wanted to negotiate some trade deals. I set it aside for Layla when she returned. 'Dare I ask?'

'Well, I have a question.'

'And I take it this is something you aren't wanting to ask.' Only connection I could think of. 'Whatever. What is it?'

'It relates to Ostagar.' And everything froze.

Ostagar. Ostagar. I couldn't think of the name without nausea building, even now. Still haunted my nightmares. Still... everything. Everything. It was everything. That one word always broke the dam of memories, bubbling unbidden to the forefront of my mind and I had to choke back bile. I didn't want to remember. I didn't. Yet I knew... I knew Nuada knew this. I knew he'd know my reaction. I knew he would never bring it up unless it was important.

And he waited. He waited for me, giving me all the time I needed. Waited until I could finally, finally sign, 'What scheme did Fen'harel whisper in your ear for you to bring that up?'

'And here I had thought I would see some curses,' he signed back immediately. Light signs, conveying a lightness he hoped would ease the sick feeling in my heart. 'Alack, alay! How ever will I survive the disappointment?' He grinned and I rolled my eyes. No matter how much time passed, he remained infuriating. Fun, and a damn good friend, but infuriating. 'Though, I don't think Eamon has anything to do with Fen'harel.'

'Isn't he in the castle or something?' Stayed there instead of Redcliffe for some reason. Didn't know. At the moment, I couldn't care less.

'He is, handling administration while Alistair and Elspeth are away, but he wanted to warn us of some...' His signs slowed, not sure of what words he wanted. 'Interesting rumors.'

'...Interesting?' I made my own signs sharp, doing my best to be as stoic as Zaphikel to highlight just how little I liked the word. I knew I scowled too much to fully emulate him, but I hoped the effect was still there.

'Let me ask my question and then I shall explain.' There better be an actual explanation. 'When and why did you and Aiden retreat that day?' ...Of all the things he asked, it was this? He knew already. I knew he did. 'If you can remember, I'd like specifics.' But his gaze was clear, and his signs sure. He did not ask this lightly. I already knew that.

It still took me a very long time to make the signs I wanted. 'Duncan ordered us.' The memories raced through my skull, each worse than the last. The rain, the blood, the smells, the screams... Creators, the screams haunted me the most. They were so loud in my memory, too loud. Maybe because they were some of the last sounds I ever heard. It was only weeks later, if that, when I lost my hearing. After all, the Blight had only been a little over a hundred days. 'Though, truthfully, your...' Did we have a sign for Shem-King Cailan? That kind fool of a man? I couldn't remember, and I did not want to stop to find a pen to write his name. So, instead, I used the signs for 'Alistair' and 'Brother'. He nodded to show he got my meaning. 'He had asked Aiden to escort Elspeth off the field.' They had told me that later. I'd been ambushed by that far too strong darkspawn, and only met them again after Shem-King Cailan had died. 'But Duncan gave us the same orders. Run, and take Elspeth with us since she knew where the treaties were. This was, of course, after the official retreat was called, thanks to her playing messenger.' So we ran. We ran and ran, slipped and fell in mud and argued as everyone died behind us. As Duncan died behind us. Well, Elspeth and I had argued. Aiden had to deal with us fools.

'I thought that was what Elspeth told me, but couldn't remember.' Nuada's signs were slow again, but this time, it was to give me time to recover. 'As for why I asked, there are rumors circulating on how convenient your survival was.' Then again, perhaps it was because he knew how fast rage would spike through my heart at the explanation. I leapt to my feet without a thought, scattering papers everywhere, but froze as I tried to think of anything, anything at all, that would properly express how furious I was. If I could call Elgar'nan himself to scorch the earth, I would've done so. But I couldn't. 'Do you want to scream?' It was tempting. I certainly felt that familiar pressure in my throat, almost begging to be torn free.

But... 'No.' But I swallowed it down, as I usually did whenever those urges to actually voice something came up. They were few, and getting fewer, but... 'It won't do anything but hurt my throat. I won't get any satisfaction from it.' I couldn't even hear it anymore.

'We can spar later. I'm sure you'd love the excuse to punch me a few times.' Couldn't deny that one. 'I am certain the rumors are simply from those who dislike how much power we're amassing. Perhaps they are even from some of Loghain's old supporters, given how it mimics Teagan's accusation after Ostagar's fall.'

'Next time, we're leaving them to their own damned devices instead of saving them.' Sighing, more to release the remnants of that scream than anything, I sat back down hard, and looked guiltily at the papers I'd sent flying. 'Ir abelas. I-'

'Is it not wonderful the piles have suddenly gotten smaller?' Nuada was quick to interrupt me, his hands dancing with the signs to highlight the mischief in his eyes and grin. I wished it made me feel better, but it didn't. No matter how angry I was, I didn't want to give him more work. 'Now, now it's... come in?' He twisted to the door and I looked up just as Anora poked her head in. 'Oh, Anora? What is it?'

'I am sorry to bother...' she began slowly, taking a step inside. She took a careful look at the scene she walked in on, from my palpable guilt to the papers scattered to Nuada's continued grin. Took her all of a second to thread it all together. 'Perhaps I should say 'hello, I am the convenient distraction'?' She glanced at Nuada with a slight, knowing smile, and Nuada laughed, lingering tension in his shoulders relaxing. Some old joke? 'Though, truly, I do not understand why you don't have Varel sort through these letters for you.' He could do that? That might take out-

'This is after he's sorted through them,' Nuada answered easily. He signed 'is' twice for emphasis and I could only eye the papers dubiously. This was sorted? Really? 'Well, it usually is. Given the letter Cleon found earlier, I'd guess he was too busy to do so today.'

'There seems to be more paperwork than I remember Father dealing with.'

'Only about a third is for Gwaren, Anora. The rest is for the Warden-Constable and King's Champion.'

'Oh, if that's the case, this amount does make sense.' She looked so completely nonchalant about it that I could only gape. I would never understand shemlen. Never. 'Regardless, might you come with me? There's something in the gardens I think you should see.'

'We should at least pick up the papers first.' Nuada made to stand, but I was on my feet and gathering them before he could, even as I wondered what happened. Did Velanna's plants eat something they shouldn't? 'What's going on?'

'Just come see.' Oh, Fen'harel's teeth, they definitely ate something they shouldn't have.

Creators, please at least be something easily fixed or paid for. Please.

...Well, the good news was Velanna's plants hadn't actually eaten something they shouldn't. The bad news was I wasn't sure I wanted to know just how Oghren ended up dangling upside down from a branch way over our heads. Particularly since it involved an irate Velanna and a Sigrun who was laughing so hard she was a trembling ball curled up on the ground. Though Creators, he was up high. I think even Sten would've had to jump to try and reach his fingertips.

'This just happened,' Anora explained, as the three of us clustered a short distance away. Just far enough from the chaotic scene so no one thought we were involved. 'I thought it better to simply grab you two before trying to figure anything out.' Yeah, probably a good idea, except both of us were just as flabbergasted. Fen'harel's teeth, Nuada could barely stop staring long enough to sign her words for me. 'His scream was enough to scare the servants in the kitchens.' I honestly couldn't blame him. Ignoring how most would be startled by such a thing, I remembered how when he first came to the surface, he'd been afraid of floating up into the sky. 'Ah, Velanna is saying something.'

She was and, even more surprising, she was signing. 'I am impressed his breath doesn't hurt my poor plants,' she muttered, scowl dark and signs fast. Nearly too fast for me to read, but, again, I was surprised she was signing at all. I was fairly certain she had no idea about us three joining the audience for her show. 'Worried it might. Sigrun's right; you could light it on fire sometimes.' She paused, perfect stillness for a blink, before she focused on the still laughing Sigrun curled up at her feet. I assumed she was still laughing. Could just be shaking from a lack of air. What bits of her face I could see were redder than apples. 'I do hope you aren't stuffing your nose in the dirt again, Sigrun.' Again? 'I don't care if it smells like fallen leaves and sunlight, like you said last time!' I wasn't even going to begin asking.

Somewhere above our heads, Oghren screamed again. Or so I guessed by everyone's focus going to him once more. I, of course, didn't know what he said, much less if it had been coherent. Nuada tried to sign the words, but he was a little too dumbfounded and 'what is with our lives?' to properly sign anything. So, instead, I took note of what bits of expression I could. His face was red, likely from being upside down, and his eyes were wide, probably from terror. There was a bit of anger as well, but who wouldn't be angry about the situation? I imagined, therefore, that his words reflected such and worried.

'Serves you right!' Velanna, however, was appeared far too pleased with herself, hard as it was to see through all the grumpy scowling. 'This will teach you to tell me lies about baby rocks!' ...Morbid curiosity steadily growing.

'All right, I just have to ask now,' Nuada finally signed, finally losing the battle against his laughter. It was a good laugh, one that I was certain was as bright as his smile, with shaking shoulders and hands. 'What happened? This question is both for the plant moving like a mabari with a toy, and Oghren being said toy.'

'Well, I can at least answer the first part,' I replied, my own signs shaking as amusement finally crept through the shock. This was ridiculous. This was beyond ridiculous. 'It's not uncommon for Keepers, or their Firsts, to enchant plants to serve as... not quite guards, but close.'

'Traps?'

'Probably a better word, given the lack of sentience. It's usually to help the sentries, though some Keepers have used it for intimidation purposes.' I remembered Zathrian had done so once, when I was a child, on some shemlen accidentally crept too close during an Arlathvhen.

'I think there's a story about Flemeth doing something similar?'

'Hers usually involve little pieces strewn in the trees, but otherwise, yes.' I studied everything once more, and noticed Sigrun finally uncurling. Slowly. 'Back on track, Keepers and Firsts have been known to do such and, of course, some have accidentally gotten caught.'

'I hear a 'however' coming.'

'Given how gleeful Velanna is, I would say Oghren did not accidentally do anything. Velanna ordered the tree to snatch him up, and probably used her magic to give it a little extra strength.' And height. There were no trees this large in the gardens this morning. 'Which I suppose answers why Oghren is the toy, actually, except I don't know why she's targeting him.'

'I suppose the reason involves why Sigrun is trying to become the first of the Legion to die of laughter.' Nuada stepped forward and helped Sigrun up at last, fanning her still far too red face as she struggled still with snickers. Anora, for some reason, headed back inside. Maybe to escape the craziness like a smart person. 'So?' While he fanned, he used his free hand to sign. 'Why is Oghren the one above our heads?'

'That...' Sigrun began, or tried to. She immediately dissolved into more snickers. Then she tried to sign for herself and only giggled further. Seriously, how did she have the breath for it still? 'Ancestors, this is the best day ever.'

'I am so glad you think so,' Nuada signed, droll look making the sarcasm apparent to my eyes. I had to bite back a smile. 'Perhaps you can share the joke?'

'Weeeeellll...' Sigrun swayed a little, either playfulness or dizziness from lack of air. Either way, Nuada signed the word slowly to convey the tone as best he could. She didn't sign herself; she still shook a little too much. 'The spark was Oghren tricking Velanna into thinking dwarves hatch out of stones like your chickens do from eggs.' He... he did what now? 'Something about pink-streaked ones being girls and gray ones being boys. I don't know. I can't tell you what's funnier: the joke or that she believed him enough to ask me about it!' I... I might ask Layla to get everyone's heads checked when she returned. 'But she'd been mad at him already for other things.'

'I see.' Nuada glanced at me, somewhere between amused and exasperated. I leaned more towards amused, but I was a little more used to these things than him. 'So, did she desire an audience and that's why you're here?'

'Oh, no, she asked if I wanted to see Oghren scream after all the borderline harassment he's been giving me.' The what now? 'I haven't brought it up or anything, it's just annoying, but how could I resist this?' We might need to have a conversation with Oghren about that. ...And to Velanna about using magic as retaliation. 'It's everything I could've hoped for and more!' I... suppose I couldn't fully blame her, but we did have other problems... namely...

'Here you are, Sigrun.' It took a long second to realize the words were Anora's and, even then, it was really only once she passed me and handed Sigrun a fan and a glass of water that I pieced it together. Nuada's attention had gone back to Oghren, even as he automatically continued signing for me. 'I thought you might need it,' she explained, crouching down to help Sigrun unfurl the fan. There was something almost comical about it, probably because it was a very fancy lace fan. Might have even been her own. 'So, what is the plan for rescuing Oghren?'

'That is the question and, sadly, I can think of only one way,' Nuada replied, sighing heavily. His shoulders moved with the motions, and he shook his head. 'Velanna, let him down before he dies, will you? I'm not explaining to Aiden why I let one of our Wardens die so ingloriously.'

'Huh? Oh, when did you arrive?' Velanna asked, whirling to face us. She blinked a few times, processing our appearance, before sulking. 'Drat. I was going to let him down before you found out.'

'Oghren's scream was apparently quite loud.'

'Well, I have to concede that. I didn't expect it to be so high. Think the dogs protested.'

It still took some persuading for Velanna to let Oghren go, and then it took longer to persuade the damn tree to relinquish its 'toy'. But, eventually, Oghren was on the ground, swaying on his own two feet while he tried to recover from being upside down for so long. Anora had to switch to fanning him while Sigrun sipped the water she had. And Nuada handled scolding Velanna, encouraging her to talk to them first before doing things like this to allies, and promptly got himself sidetracked by the potential defensive applications of her plants, so it was one of the worst scoldings ever. I watched them all with a smile on my face, basking in the sheer ridiculousness of it all.

Sadly, it didn't last. Oghren had just recovered when all of them stilled at something. Perfectly frozen, with wide eyes. I tilted my head curiously, soon realizing they were reacting to some sort of sound, but I had to wait until one of them told me. Whatever it was... it had to be bad. I'd never known any of them to be still for so long, and when I glanced up at the ramparts, I saw people in gleaming, silver armor running as if their lives depended on it. None of them ever ran.

A bit of movement brought my attention back down, and I saw it was Nuada. He didn't look at me. He honestly didn't look at anything. That look on his face told me he was already thinking a thousand different things at once, even as he calmly and surely signed to me, 'the Alarm Bells are ringing. We're under attack.'

...Fen'harel, can you please stop with your damned tricks? They're getting old.

Vigil's Keep was tightly contained chaos. People were running everywhere, carrying this and that. Messengers flitted about this way and that to deliver orders. Patrols were stepped up, bringing report after report after report. The courtyard was a writhing mess of activity, as I observed from my perch by the window. After all, I wasn't in the middle of the chaos. I was in the sole place of order, the center point all the strings of chaos spun from: the study somewhere in the center of the Keep where Nuada gathered every shred of information he could as he looked over multiple maps spread across a table. I only recognized two: one of Vigil's Keep and one of the arling itself.

'Tell Anora to move the civilians further in,' he ordered Varel. Not sure how Varel ended up as a messenger, but perhaps the rest were busy. At this point, it was only us three in the room. The rest had rushed off with their own orders. 'Specifically, I want them here.' He scribbled something on the map of Vigil's Keep, one of many. I was too far to read them. 'We can close off the hall and provide four layers of protection. Portion off our supplies for just their use.' Varel, stone-faced, bowed to acknowledge the order and strode out. When the door to the study thudded shut, Nuada let himself slump at last. That alone told me everything.

Still, I wanted it confirmed, so I walked over and tapped the table to catch his attention. 'How bad?' I signed, looking over the maps. Scribbles every which way... last time I'd seen this, we were preparing to fight the last battles of the Blight.

'Bad.' Nuada straightened his posture once more as he signed. 'Based on the scouts, the initial squads will be here within the next few hours, if not sooner, intent on testing our defenses. The full force will be here in two or three days. It's nowhere near long enough to evacuate.' Certainly not everyone, at least. Maybe a few could slip past, but…

'How far away is Amaranthine again?'

'At forced march, I'd say it's three days.' Nuada, however, draw a large curve around Vigil's Keep on the map of the Arling. Notably, it crossed right over the road to Amaranthine. 'That more or less encompasses the area all darkspawn have been spotted. Our scouts are certain of it.'

'Mythal, protect us...' No way to get a message out to Layla and Aiden then. Not before everything. And the curve also blocked off the road to Denerim, so there was no getting help there. 'How many?'

'Providing our scouts aren't undercounting due to all darkspawn looking the same to them, it's not quite as bad as the Siege of Denerim. It's more than what hit Redcliffe, though.' Nuada glanced at me, expression impassive. 'You can sense them though, can't you? I can.'

'Yes.' It was just the barest of whispers on the very edge of my mind. I might have ignored it, if not for the current situation. But those whispers were enough to also confirm what Nuada said. There were a lot coming. 'So, how are we preparing?' Surprisingly, Nuada didn't answer immediately. Instead, he continued looking at me with that terribly impassive face. 'Nuada?'

'You're going to hate me for this.' His signs were certain and he looked me right in the eye. My stomach dropped, already knowing what his next words would be. 'But you aren't staying.' He caught my hands in his when I brought them up to protest. I tried to jerk them out, but he held them firm. I shook my head violently and tried again, failed again. I couldn't leave them. I wouldn't! And if he would silence my hands then...!

"I will not run!" Then I would shout my protests instead, in that rusty, mushed voice of mine. At least, I assumed so. I couldn't actually hear it. I could just feel the air in my mouth, the burning-buzz in my throat. It hurt. It hurt a lot, and I didn't think it was just from shouting. "Nuada!" But he twisted his hands to hold both of mine in one hand and used his free one to cover my mouth. I settled then for glaring, but I... I bit back the rest. Logically, I knew he had his reasons for saying it. Because it was him and he never gave any orders he hadn't thought over ten thousand times.

'Armies don't rise up from the ground, not even darkspawn.' Sensing my cooperation, Nuada let go to sign to me. I still glared. 'Armies leave tracks.' And damn him, I could pick up the pieces from there. This wasn't just running. He wanted me... he needed me to...

'You want me to find them.' He needed me to track down whatever hole in the ground they crawled up from. Because all of this would just continue if we didn't. Because with this many darkspawn here, then their lair had to be relatively clear. Because we would never get a better chance. 'You want me to leave you here and find their lair.'

'Yes. Who better to track them than a Dalish?' Appealing to my pride of all things now? Nuada could be such a bastard sometimes. 'You know the passages out better than the rest of us anyway.' Thanks to the patrols, and hunts for assassins. 'I can't go. I need to stay and coordinate. Vigil's Keep is the headquarters of the Wardens right now, after all, and I am Warden-Constable.' A strained smile quirked onto his face, some attempt at jesting. 'Besides, as someone so recently mentioned, I may be Arl of Amaranthine someday. What sort of Arl would I be to abandon my people?'

'You are the absolute worst.' I continued glaring; he continued smiling. 'You two... are going to have the largest wedding we can think of.' Because I remembered that conversation too. It had only been a few days ago. 'As large as Elspeth and Alistair's. I mean it.'

'We can discuss things further when you return.' He looked out the window, but when I turned, I saw nothing unusual. Same as before. 'The bells rang again. First wave is on us.' Already? How was it so soon? Was it the tunnels below that let them slip so close so quickly?

It didn't matter. Not now. 'Then I need to leave.'

'You can't go alone, if they're already here. Too dangerous.' Nuada looked to his maps, already plotting something. 'Take-'

I gestured sharply to interrupt him. 'I'll take Velanna. She can help me with tracking, and with foraging.' I glared, daring him to protest. 'Oghren and Sigrun have the most experience fighting darkspawn. I will not take them from you. I will not take anyone else from you.' I dreaded taking even just her, even if I understood. 'Maybe she can just bury all the bastards.'

'That she could.' Nuada's smile... was near-perfect then. It was his fool's smile, the mask he wore to pretend everything was fine. I hated he wore it now; it only confirmed for me just how bad things were. 'Happy hunting, Cleon.'

'Stay alive.' And I bolted, pausing only just long enough to rip the door open. I had... I had to find Velanna.

Down the halls, pushing past people. Round the corners, jumping over supplies scattered haphazardly. I knew everything was loud. With this many people, with this much activity, there was no way it wasn't. Just like Ostagar had been... no, I wouldn't think of that. I couldn't. So, I kept on running, and no one stopped me. At least, I didn't think they did. Some may have shouted, but there was no way for me to know. So, instead, I headed for the places I thought Velanna might be. Took three tries. She'd been helping stock the infirmary, and I was all too aware our strongest healers were, at best, three days away. How many would...?

Shaking my head, and the thoughts out of said head, I waited for Velanna to finish what she was doing before snagging her arm and dragging her out. I knew she protested. I didn't care. I couldn't. I had to move, and that meant finding some spot of calm, tucked in an alcove down the hall, to convey our orders.

'What are you doing?!' That didn't stop Velanna from glaring and screaming. Her sharp signs conveyed her anger all too well. 'Just snatching me like I'm some bow?!' she snapped, eyes blazing in fury. But I saw the dread within, the worry. She, too, was aware of just how badly everything was spiraling. 'I need to-'

'We're leaving,' I signed, my own sharp. I had to make them as certain as possible. I couldn't falter. I couldn't shake. Even if that meant being rude and interrupting her. 'Now.'

'We're what?!' Well, that knocked the anger out of her, leaving only that terrified dread. 'Are you-?!'

'Tracking. We're tracking down their lair, and we have to do it now.' Damn all of this. 'Minimum of what you need, but no supplies. We'll forage on the way.'

'You're serious.' She stared at me for a long moment before nodding. Thank you, Creators, for small miracles. I did not have it in me to argue. 'Very well. Where should I meet you?'

'Gates.' Wait, no, that would be... 'No, meet me at Nuada's room.' I knew Nuada wouldn't be there, and our living quarters were enough out of the way that it should be relatively calmer. And, more importantly, there was... 'Path out near there.' Well, semi-near. It was more we'd have a clear path to it. Regardless, I knew it well by this point. 'We'll leave from there.'

'...I am not bringing medicines. Just warning you.'

'Good.' She had a basic heal spell and, in theory, we wouldn't do much fighting. Just tracking. Just hunting. I once did things like this daily. But that was before everything. Before the Blight. Before I had the weight of tens of hundreds of lives on my heart. 'As soon as you can.'

She nodded and ran, and I strode back down the hall, heading to my own rooms to gather the absolute essentials. I hid the more personal items, including Lyna's latest letter. I hadn't replied. I would when this was over. And it would be over soon. This... this was to make sure of that. So, I checked over my pack one last time and ran to Nuada's room. I beat Velanna there, and desperate to keep doing something instead of waiting, I ducked in to hide some of the more sentimental items there. Left a note for Nuada to let him know. It was pointless, but I had to keep moving. I had to...

Thankfully, Velanna joined me before I had to wait long enough for the dread to build. Without a word, we immediately headed for the secret passage leading out. No one stopped us; no one even thought to try. Once it was open, Velanna, bravely, headed down without hesitation. I didn't. I lingered in the doorway, and looked back. Looked at the people racing everywhere and nowhere, grimly determined and all too aware many would survive this crisis. They had to be. I knew I was.

Somewhere in the middle of the writhing mess of people, I saw Oghren. He looked like he was shouting orders, or maybe it was encouragement. Either way, he was helping direct things. At least, until he somehow sensed me looking, because he turned and locked eyes with me. Stared for a moment, studying. Piecing everything together in a blink. Then he smiled and waved me goodbye. And I hated that smile; it was the smile of someone who may or may not live to see the dawn and was fine with it. I wasn't. I'd known him too long for it to be fine.

But I had my duty, and he knew it. So I nodded a farewell and shut the door behind me. I wondered how loud it was. It had felt heavy enough to be loud. But maybe it wasn't. Maybe it was as quiet as a shadow and no one even noticed. That would be good. That was how it should be. But the thought made me all too aware of how I was leaving. I was leaving them to their fates. Just like Ostagar. Damn that Nuada had mentioned it. It made the similarities all the more apparent to my screaming heart. But even with the ghosts clinging and clawing, I had to move forward. I had to catch up to Velanna, and do the job Nuada entrusted to me. And I would. I would not fail.

But Elgar'nan, if you allowed that terrible day to repeat, I would find and kill you as soon as this was over. See if I didn't.

Author's Notes: Oh, what am I doing? What am I doing? *sigh* well, I... uh... decided to try and finish this. And continue the series. Had to adjust my outline some to make it easier on me, so apologies if anything seems wonky. ...Actually, given how long it's been, a lot probably is wonky.

Various nods to Inquisition and DA2 (with a bit of a nod to a discrepancy between Witch Hunt and DA2 on Cullen's whereabouts). The letter from Faladhin is based on one found in the World of Thedas. The scene in the gardens has mentions of various party banter between Velanna, Oghren, and Sigrun. Specifically one that actually chains between them, though in the banter, Velanna merely gave Oghren something that caused something to swell. Opening blurb is Bethany, and finally Vesta semi-shows up. The mortgage thing is a nod to the random spam letters Hawke gets in DA2.

Well, anyway... ah... here we go?