A/N: None today, so dig right in.
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Fallout
Varel never tought he'd say it, but could he please have the Orlesians back? He could trade them an elf in return… if he knew where she was. Or other Wardens for that matter.
XXX
Anders had left. As soon as they had returned from the ill-fated cellar-expedition-turned-Deep-Roads-jaunt, he marched into his room, crammed his backpack full and took off. Oghren made straight for the kitchens, comandeered a barrel and started drinking. No one dared approach him within armsreach. Nathaniel emerged pale and silent as a grave, and immediately made himself scarce. The elf turned up last, so livid she was crackling, grabbed her mabari and stormed off in directions unknown. In short, the Deep Roads were a disaster and Varel didn't have a first clue why. But he did have a pretty good guess as to who was to blame.
"I'm afraid our Wardens are falling apart, Mistress Woolsey."
The older woman blew the steam off the top of her tea mug and took a cautious sip. "And I'm afraid they already have, Senechal. Oh, this tea is good."
Varel smiled a little, privately wondering how could the lady drink her tea so hot. He was still cradling his own mug and his fingers were almost blistering. The fire crackled softly, bathing his office in a soft glow and he added another log to it. Daylight was waning fast so he turend on the oil lamp on his desk. He didn't close the window just yet though: he himself could stand a bit more warmth, but Mistress Woolsey was used to colder climates and appreciated the cold evening breeze.
"What are we to do?" he asked as he put the poker back in its place and returned to his seat.
The woman contemplated the question for a while, her gaze meandering over the tapestry adorning the western wall of the office. This one in particular depicted a forest trail, thorns and bushes intertwined in shades of yellow and green with the broad leaves of a deeper green canopy above them. Varel always liked that one.
"Are those animal heads up there?"
Varel did not hide his surprise. "You noticed?" If one knew how to look for them, there were indeed various animal head shapes cleverly hidden within the pattern. He never tought anyone but him ever caught on to that.
The woman chuckled, satisfied. "Of course I noticed. I have an eye for detail. And as for your question, Senechal, I don't believe that we can do anything righ now."
"Right at this moment? No. Of course not. But if things are allowed to progress in this fashion…" He left it hanging. "The men are edgy. They have still to recover from the Darkspawn attack, and the new Commander… Well, let us just say her behaviour tends to leave people either confused or livid. Ususally latter and usually in under three minutes."
Woolsey chuckled. "Yes. I know exactly what you mean. I, myself, am not exactly livid, but I will admit to being a bit ticked off at her ordering what militia we have to patrol the farmlands instead of securing the trade routes as I had hoped."
"And the nobles would likely have her secure the city instead." He allowed himself a wry little grin. "Especially will have to arrange the ceremony soon. I believe the Amaranthine's upper class is growing rather impatient to see which one of them gets to sink their hooks into their new Arlessa and manipulate the ignorant little commoner, an elf at that, into dancing to their strings. They're in for a rather nasty surprise on that front, I'd wager."
They both shared a chuckle at that, but then Varel's expression turned serious again. "I still don't kow what happened today, but Voldrik came to see me afterwards. He'll need to seal the breach and he says it can be done, but the surrounding tunnels have to be cleared first before he can lead his men in. That's a Wardens' job, and right now, we are practically down to none."
Woolsey frowned and took another sip. "Yes. That is most unfortunate. I may have to bring all this to the Head Warden's attention soon."
Varel observed her while she took another contemplative sip of her tea. His own mug was still steaming untouched. "But you are reluctant to do so."
"You are as aware of the political backdrop as I am, Senechal. And you'll have more luck spotting the heraldic bear in the lower left corner then even begin to untangle the knots in that ball of yarn."
Varel glanced back at the tapestry, impresed. It took him weeks before he had found the bear. Woolsey put her mug on the desk and brought her fingers together.
"Still, we do have a few avenues we might explore…"
XXX
Rescue came from the most unlikely source, in the form of Oghren early next morning. He barged into Senechal's office, ale mug in his hands and slightly swaying but surprisingly coherent.
"You want to know what happened yesterday? Here's the gist of it: those two blighters couldn't stand their heads buzzing full of Darkspawn; the runt snubbed them; they ganged up on her, she snapped, I snapped and then it all went nugwards." He crashed into a chair and leaned back with force. "No big deal. Don't get your panties in a twist. And don't go rattling stones behind the Commander's back, you and that paper-pushing numbers-counter. Don't give me that look. I'm drunk, not stupid."
He drained his mug. "Tempers run short, tempers snap. It happens. No one died, so story over. They'll come around, just give 'em some time. And don't go prodding - The Commander's a quick-to-boil kind, but she'll come through."
Varel rubbed his chin. "I wish I could share in your confidence right now."
"She will come through!" Oghren smacked both fists onto the desk and glowered at the Senechal. "I watched that kid take on far worse than this and rip it to shreds."
Varel leaned back. Glowering Oghren was not something most people wanted in close proximity; Oghren's drunken breath this close was something most would not likely survive. "I'm afraid that 'rippping to shreds' is precicely what we don't need right now, Oghren."
"Sure you do. There's Darkspawn in them tunnels that's just begging to be shredded right now." Oghren grinned. "Now, you tell that sniff, Garevel-whatshisname to give me a few men and I'll take 'em down myself. Have it cleared it by lunchtime. No, don't argue with me. Put some good armour on 'em and they'll be fine - most of those tunnels are cleared up already, just need to pick off a few stragglers, is all. What? What'd you think we were doing down there? Dancing? Just make sure the sods can tell which end of a blade is which and won't soil their panties 'cause a little bit of dark."
Varel considered this. He'd much prefer the Wardens did that but… He sighed. "All right, Oghren. We'll get you a team. And spare pairs of pants for them, just in case. Have you seen the Commander, by the way? Or the other two?"
"No. And I don't intend to go looking, either. And neither should you. Give 'em space, especially the Commander. You back her in a corner and she'll fight you; you gotta give her space to flail it off first, get the steam out through her ears - then she'll listen." He headed for the door. "I'll go drink my breakfast now. Find me when they're ready."
Varel smiled faintly. "Perhaps we should make you the Warden-Commander, Oghren."
"By the Stone, human! I love that kid, but not that much!"
XXX
She was storming down the road with the mabari at her side, trailing dust. Maker's buttocks, what dickheads! Get a little Darkspawn in their heads and it's end of the damned world! What the fuck did they expect her to do? Wipe their noses? No, dammit, Anders didn't ask for any of the Warden mess but dammit! Now that he's got it, he damn well fucking take it! He can take on Tamplars and demons but he can't handle this? As if! And Howe? Fucking Andraste's frigid fucking tighs, Howe did ask for all this. He practically begged her for it! But now that he's got it, he suddenly finds he can't deal with it? And blames her for it? Well fuck him! If he can't handle it, he can fuck the hell off and back under whatever rock he crawled out from! And take the damned mage with him! Sodding shitheads, both of them!
Bandit watched her as he trotted beside her and whined. She's been at it since last evening and throughout the whole night and she was still smelling of seething fury. Didn't even bring anything to eat with her, just took the road and shot off. Not even a treat for him. Sniff.
Amaranthine was within sight when the mabari planted himself in front of her with a resounding "Woof!" She stopped, looked at the city, the sea glimmering in the morning sun on the far side and then back at the dog again.
"I've no idea. Catch a ship to Antiva?"
Mabari sat down, ears flat. "Woof."
"Well I don't know?" She glanced back the way she came. "I am not going back there again, that's for sure."
Bandit tilted his head. "Woof." It was not an approving 'woof', either.
"No. I'm not. I don't care if they burp or burn up there - I'm done!" She walked past the dog and headed for the city. Damn them all, but she was getting her ass out of here.
Well, as soon as she got some sleep first, anyway. She had the idea of making straight for the docks but once inside the gates, she changed her mind and entered the first inn she ran across, took a room, dropped face-first onto the bed and was sound asleep before she even hit the pillow.
Quietly, the mabari pulled a blanket over her.
XXX
It was close to lunchtime when Anders entered the city, paused at the gates and considered his options. He could just make out the looming roof of the Chantry to his right and immediatelly marked that as one direction he'll be staying clear off. Where would Namaya be, he pondered? If she were still in the city at all, ha is, which he honestly doubted was the case. Still, since he's already here, he might as well try. And if that doesn't pan out, he could go to the docks in the morning and see about boarding a ship. Where to? He had no idea. He heard Rivain was nice this time of the year…
XXX
Nathaniel was on the road before Oghren even left Varel's office that morning and had reached the city by nightfall. Normally, it took about a day to get to Amaranthine, but he was covering the distance like a wolf. Maker's breath, Delilah was alive! He almost didn't dare believe it as he sped on towards the city, forgotten shortcuts coming back to him as if it was only yesterday he had last walked them. His sister was alive…