Chapter 4
Things were looking increasingly grim.
No one had told him as such, but Davyd was once a soldier and he'd spent most of his life around them. He knew the signs.
The soldiers of the Vigil filed in and out of his dining hall these days in an almost absent-minded fashion. The jocularity was gone. They came in, they ate their meals, they left. Very little conversation was exchanged between comrades.
There were also a disturbing number of empty seats, and that number grew by the week.
Lady Cousland was showing the signs, to. She was constantly out on the front lines herself. Davyd had even noticed a few random streaks of gray in her blazing red hair. The responsibility of defending the arling from the increasingly numerous darkspawn was wearing her down.
Davyd stood behind the damnable buffet line, watching the grim-faced soldiers get their dinners.
"A copper for your thoughts?" Farron asked.
"Things are turning to shit," Davyd said bluntly. "I've seen it happen from their viewpoint before. Get a good loook, Farron. This is what an army in desperation looks like."
Farron looked alarmed. "What do you think is happening?"
"Something with the darkspawn, I'm sure. Look, maybe you and the kitchen staff should consider leaving. My understanding is that the darkspawn haven't been found in significant numbers in the western end of the arling. You could take some mountaineering gear when you go. You might be able to cross the mountains and get to Highever," Davyd said.
"If it's all the same to you, I'd rather stay. This is my home, for better or for worse," Farron said.
Davyd nearly rebuked Farron for his bravado. Then again...a man sometimes has to stand and fight for his home. There was nothing inherently wrong with that.
"I'm not going to try to force you to leave, and your willingness to fight is gratifying," Davyd said. He looked at the worn faces of the soldiers. "Maybe it won't come to that," Davyd said, not believing a word of his own statement.
"There's your girlfriend," Farron teased, pointing towards Velanna as she entered the dining hall.
Davyd was grateful for the change of subject. He rolled his eyes at Farron. "She's not my girlfriend."
"You two seem to spend a lot of time talking," Farron said. "So, if you two aren't girlfriend / boyfriend, just what are the two of you?"
"I...don't know, actually," Davyd said. "I would say 'friends' but I'm not sure she really does friendship."
"You don't know?" Farron asked, incredulous.
"It's complicated," Davyd said.
"Definitely boyfriend/girlfriend," Farron concluded.
"Dammit, Farron. Don't you have some kind of work to do that doesn't involve using me for a rhetorical chew toy?" Davyd asked.
"Not really," Farron said.
Davyd harumphed. "Since you aren't busy, do me a favor. There's a bowl of hot pasta next to my stove in the kitchen. Get it for me, if you would."
"Of course, milord," Farron mocked. Davyd just grimaced.
Farron returned with the bowl, containing hot pasta and sauce. The smell was alluring. "What is this, it smells great," Farron said.
Davyd sighed. "It's called Sar'Salen."
Farron raised an eyebrow.
"Traditional Dalish dish. Difficult to make. The pasta has to be of a certain texture and cut to length. Each individual piece is stuffed with crumbled beef and mozzarella cheese. The sauce is made from milk, Parmesan cheese, and cream cheese. There are five different Dalish spices that have to be mixed into the sauce in precise quantities. To top it all off, it then has to be touched by a mage's magic," Davyd explained.
"You seriously have the hots for her," Farron said. He started singing like a child. "Davyd and Velanna, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-"
"For Maker's sake, Farron," Davyd said.
"Oh, you've got it bad. That's fine, deny all you want. I'll just leave you to woo your Dalish beauty," Farron said.
"I'm going to get you Farron," Davyd said.
Contrary to what Farron thought, he was not interested in Velanna. Not that way, at least.
Nathaniel was right. Davyd had only seen her as a Dalish, and not as a person. It had been hard, but he finally came to terms with her as a person, and not as a Dalish elf. When he had, he'd been surprised at what he felt. Pity and sadness, mostly. He had seen her in the dining hall the day after Anders had healed her burns properly, and he instinctively reached for that well of anger he normally harbored just at the sight of her. But it wasn't there. He had sought for that font of molten emotion, and to his surprise, he found that his retribution was spent and gone, as if it had never existed.
She hurt inside, a lot. He had once overheard her talking to Lady Cousland, and she stated openly that she did not believe she deserved to be forgiven for what she'd done to the merchant caravans.
At one time, Davyd would've agreed with that. Now...he didn't know what to think. It was easier when he could just think of her as a barely restrained murderer. Now, all he saw was a woman in the pits of hopelessness and despair, and it hurt to see it. It especially hurt to see it happen to someone so strong and so proud.
Velanna was strong. She was nearly indestructible, hard as steel. Most people had a breaking point, but she was one of those rare few that didn't. She could keep going if the void itself was unleashed on the world.
This, however, was both a blessing and a horrible curse. A lesser person would've broke under the weight she carried. When that happened in an army, the soldier in question was usually recognized as being mentally ill and discharged. Sometimes that didn't happen and the person in question would find death in battle, or even suicide. However it happened, these people did at least find some kind of peace, however brutal the finding may have been.
But not a person like Velanna. She had it the worst. She was someone who would never break, and she was proud to boot. For her, no matter how deep the despair, or how heavy her burdens may become, she was cursed with unbreakable fortitude. For her, there would be no escape and she would suffer those burdens every hour of every day.
The Sar'Salen was a peace offering, of sorts. They had exchanged some pretty brutal words when they'd first met. Davyd was ashamed of himself. She carried way too much for one person and he didn't want to add to her burdens. He wanted to apologize to her, to try to set things right. From the looks of things in the arling, if he didn't seize the chance to set things right while it was available, he might lose that chance altogether.
Steeling his courage, he walked from the kitchen to Velanna's table.
She looked up and nodded to him. "Davyd. How are you?"
"A lot better than these men," he said in a quiet voice.
"You see it too? I guess you would," she said. "You've carried a blade before yourself."
Davyd nodded. "I didn't come here to talk about that, though. I made something for you."
"Oh?" Velanna asked.
Davyd slid placed the bowl in front of her. She looked at the pasta, and her eyes widened. "Is this..." She smelled the sauce. "By the Creators, it is. Sar'Salen. Where did you learn to make this?"
"Ambassador Cera helped me. She found the recipe in one of her Dalish history volumes. I even got her to do the magical part of its preparation."
"That's amazing," Velanna said. "We rarely prepare this even among the Dalish, it's so difficult to make, and we often skip the enchantment portion." She speared one of the stuffed pastas with her fork and ate. "You got it exactly right," she said.
"I'm glad you like it," Davyd said.
"We usually only make this for a few special occasions. We usually prepare it when a new Keeper is named, a new First is named, and funerals. Also weddings," she said.
Weddings, Davyd thought. Farron will never let me hear the end of it if he finds out.
"Listen, I did want to talk," Davyd said. "You remember when we met?"
"Yes," she replied cautiously.
"I...said some things I regret. I know the situation with the darkspawn is turning bad. I want to apologize, and set things right. While I have the chance. I am sorry for what I said to you Velanna," Davyd said.
She looked down blankly at the table.
"Maybe I should leave you to your dinner," Davyd said.
"No," she said. "You're not the one that needs to apologize here."
"Velanna," Davyd said. He turned away, unable to face her and spoke in low tones. "I called your people pests, Velanna. I know how humans treat the Dalish and city-born elves. I knew it was the most harmful thing I could say to you. I am rightly ashamed of myself."
"And I shouldn't have suggested your first wife deserved her fate," Velanna said. "I guess neither of us were in the right that day. Do you think it will always be this way?"
"You mean in general, humans and elves?" Davyd asked.
"Yes," she nodded.
"I hope not," Davyd said. And to his surprise, he truly meant it. "The wounds the elven people have suffered over the years are deep and terrible, though. How does a people ever move on from something like that?"
Apparently, Velanna didn't know the answer. She did at least seem to be happy to have a traditional Dalish dish for dinner. Davyd went and retrieved his own dinner from the buffet line. They ate in companionable silence.
"Can I ask you something?" Velanna asked.
"Sure," Davyd said.
"You never talk about your second wife. I understand if it's too personal..." Velanna said.
Frankly, it was too personal, and he nearly said as such. But she didn't deserve that, and Davyd strangled the impulse to snap at her before it fully formed as a thought in his mind.
"I'd rather not talk about this here," he said after a moment.
"Your quarters?" she asked.
"Yes," he said.
They got up and left, making the short trek to his quarters. He suspected Farron would be cackling madly, seeing them not only leave together but heading straight for his sleeping quarters.
The thought brought a smile to his face as they walked down the hallway. "What's so funny?" Velanna asked.
"Nothing, nothing. Just something Farron said to me earlier," Davyd replied.
They reached the privacy of his quarters. Velanna seated herself on a small sofa, waiting patiently. After about two minutes, Davyd finally sat next to her, and spoke.
"It was the Taint," Davyd said. "It was almost two years ago, right when the Blight had just started. We were living in a small town in the Bannorn, just north of Lothering when the news about the fall of Ostagar and the approaching darkspawn horde reached us. We packed up and fled. At first, everything seemed fine. We ran into a few darkspawn scouts, but they were few in number."
Davyd sighed, trying to breathe out the pain of the memory, but it just wouldn't leave. He plowed ahead. "Valerie contracted the Taint. One day we were just traveling along the road to Denerim, when she collapsed. You know that people who contract the Taint, they become...I couldn't let that happen."
"By the Creators," Velanna whispered.
"She begged me to end it for her. So I did. I put her to the sword myself," tears were falling from Davyd's eyes.
"She was my wife, my beloved, my world. She was...so very gentle. She was the sort of person who exuded an air of innocence. There was not a speck of evil in her, and she was so good to me. I didn't even begin to deserve her. Every night when I went to bed, I prayed, and I always asked the Maker to help me be the man she believed I was," Davyd said.
"And I killed her," his voice finally broke. The memory was just too horrible. "She was the only pure, good thing in my life and I killed her."
Velanna sat silently with a stunned expression. After a few moments, she found her voice. "I know this doesn't make it better, but I know some of what you're going through. Seranni, my sister. That hideous darkspawn creature, the Architect, he has brainwashed her or something. She's the only family I have. I need her back, but she follows that thing. I know, Davyd. I know what it is to lose someone to the darkspawn. Listen to me, Davyd. You did not kill her. The Blight is an incredible evil. There was nothing you could do. It was merciful, what you did do for her."
"I know that here," he motioned towards his temple. "But I don't know that here, and I never will," he finished, motioning to his heart. "Maybe when this is over, you will be able to find Seranni. I hope so. I'd like to think something good might come from this void-cursed, shitty mess."
"I hope so too..." Velanna stumbled to a halt. Tears were falling from her eyes as well. Those beautiful elven eyes met Davyd's. He hesitated, disbelieving the vulnerability she was showing in front of him.
After a moment, he embraced her and they released their grief in front of one another without shame.