This is so late, and I'm sorry. School is starting, and since I'm a Theatre student, I was auditioning for everything. But here is the next chappie. Thanks to snezeire for following and everyone else for their continual support! And Alex, this one's for you.

Chapter 7: Loud Silence

Her spirit did not want to go into the Fade this time. As Sten carried her body from the Proving Grounds with her party yelling around her, she wanted nothing more than to sleep. She wavered in an out of consciousness and she kept forgetting she was underground and not under the clouds, the stars, what time was it? She didn't know.

When she closed her eyes, she slipped free from her body into the Fade, where she floated gently into an alternate version of Cousland Castle. Her feet touched the ground, and she was back to herself, a young noble girl in an expensive dress with white hair down to her knees. She walked through the field and almost forgot her body was fighting to survive somewhere else.

Her body opened her eyes and she saw the stony roof, an unfamiliar face, the feeling of a knife against her belly. She gasped silently and hands held her down. Someone began to drown her with a bitter and fiery liquid.

"Drink, Aela," Alistair's voice echoed from far away. She didn't want to. She hated the taste of alcohol.

"You gotta get that shit into her," a gruff and unfamiliar voice demanded. "I can't work if she's wiggling about like this. Other circumstances, maybe, but I don't wanna kill her."

Alistair lifted Aela's head as hands pinned her to a stone slab. "Close your eyes, love. Drink some more, you'll fall asleep."

Aela's eyes fluttered and closed at the sound of Alistair's soothing voice, and she was back in the Fade, running towards her castle. She had her skirts gathered in her arms as she sprinted into the courtyard. The stable-hands, the guards, and some knights greeted her as if nothing was amiss, or ever had been.

"Pup!" a voice called in the distance. Aela almost squealed when she saw her father, alive and happy, with Eleanor. They both smiled warmly at her and opened their arms. Aela ran into them and cried as they squeezed her and buried their faces in her shoulders.

"I'm so sorry I left you behind," Aela sobbed. "I didn't want to."

Eleanor pulled back and laughed. "Darling, you were only going to the lake. It's fine."

She didn't understand. "But… Arl Howe, he –"

"He isn't coming to the castle anymore, dearest. No one is marching. King Cailan and his army have already battled in Ostagar. We're safe," Bryce said happily. "Why are you so worked up about something you've done so many times? The lake is hardly dangerous."

"I thought…" Aela closed her mouth and huffed. "Is this real? You're really staying? We're safe?"

Eleanor kissed her forehead. "Of course, my love. Now, I'm going for supper. Fetch Oren and I will find Fergus and Oriana."

Aela nodded and gleefully ran into the corridors. A nightmare, she realized. A horrible nightmare. Duncan, Alistair, Morrigan, Lothering, Orzammar, everything had just been an untrue nightmare.

She bounded up the steps and opened the door to Oren's nursery.

"I'm coming to get you!" she giggled as she flew in.

That giggle quickly stopped when she found Oren's body lying on the floor next to Oriana, the same exact position she had left them in, massacred. She screamed.

Aela's eyes snapped open and no hands were on her to push her down. But she didn't move. She stared up at the stone ceiling while tears fell from her eyes into her hair. She looked around, sore and tired, and she was in a room at Tapsters Tavern, yet again.

There was a giggle by the door. Aela couldn't help but hear it. She turned her stiff neck to see a dwarven barmaid on the lap of a dwarven man, who had his face buried in her breasts and an ale in his free hand. Aela's eyes widened, but when she tried to speak, there was no sound. Instead, the rustle of her against the mattress made the barmaid jump and look over her shouder. She slapped the man away from her chest.

"She's awake!" she hissed. "Stop that!"

"Eh, she's fine. She's supposed to wake up," the man grumbled. But the barmaid slinked off the man's lap, readjusted her bodice, and stepped to Aela's bedside.

"Sorry about that," the woman said. "Balec here said he just wanted a pint and look what happened."

"Quiet, woman. Move over so I can take a look at her."

Balec up-close was an obvious Duster. The brand scorched into his face said that much. His beard was braided finely, though, and he had a maul leaning against the wall behind him. That didn't make too much sense. But when Balec wiped his beard with the back of his hand before grabbing Aela's blankets, she flinched away violently.

Something tugged painfully at her stomach and she gasped. Balec sneered and pinned Aela down.

"Don't do that," he growled.

"This is the man who saved you," the barmaid said.

"Good thing I'm good with my fingers, eh?" Bale asked cheekily.

The barmaid squeaked and went beet-red before slipping out of the room. Balec's grin dropped and he pulled Aela's blankets back, revealing her bound breasts and some nasty gashes sewn shut.

"I managed to save most'a you," Balec grunted. He motioned to a nasty gash that crossed Aela's belly. "I had to take some stuff out, move it around, clamp it, sew it, mash it, whatever. You'll feel lighter, that's for sure!"

Aela frowned and sat up painfully. She tried to speak, but her voice made no sound. Balec eased her down back onto the bed. "Stop trying to sit up. I always tell this to broads and they never listen." The dwarf pulled his hands away and stopped for a moment. "Also, nevermind the crudeness. Oghren says I have this way with words that sets surfacers off."

Aela looked up and down, trapped. Then she shrugged stiffly to let him know it was more or less harmless. Because she couldn't make out the words to say she was uncomfortable. She looked around and looked back at Balec. She put her hand to her throat.

Balec drank from his cup loudly and tossed the cup to the side. He blinked down at Aela.

"You really pissed off a lot of dwarves, sweetheart," he grunted. "Not often we have a surface beat the sod outta our finest. I barely salvaged what was left of Lucjan and Piotin's deaf as a rock."

Aela squinted and furrowed her eyebrows. Balec rolled his eyes. "Whatever you did out there blew his ears out better than a whore blows…" Balec stopped and restarted once he saw Aela's expression. "He can't hear shit no more is what I'm saying. Because of your pie-hole."

Aela clamped her mouth shut and looked at the ceiling. She tried to peak and remembered it wasn't working. Balec watched her and reached into his pocket. He pulled a piece of parchment and a stick of charcoal. He lifted her legs so her knees could be used as a table. He motioned for her to write. Aela took a moment before she shakily wrote.

What happened out there? she asked through writing. Balec squinted at the writing before leaning back.

"Beats me," he sighed. "You just opened your mouth and this sound came howling out of it. Half the audience walked out with migraines, the other half with bloody ears. Piotin went completely deaf and the fool tried to put a hit on you last week."

Aela wrote furiously: Last week?!

"Mhmm. Been out for a fortnight. I've been stuck here babysitting you. I took care of Piotin, don't worry."

She stared at him with wide eyes. She didn't need to write anything for Balec to roll his eyes again. "I didn't touch you, princess. Not beyond what I did to fix you. Your boyfriend made sure of that. Huge buzzkill, if you ask me."

Aela wrote: He's not my boyfriend.

Balec barked out a laugh and belched. "Uh huh. Ain't no one that protective over something they didn't fancy. Shit, I'd act the same if my pint glass was cracked, but that's just me. And don't look at me like that, he didn't touch you, either. He'd probably have no idea the difference between an ass and a tit even if he saw a comparison painting."

Stop, Aela wrote. Where are they?

Balec raised his hands and slapped his knees. "Off on another one of Harrowmont's crazy, title-grabbing schemes, no doubt. Went off looking for Jarvia. With any luck, she'll kill them before she skin's 'em."

Aela surged up and immediately regretted it. Balec dropped his smirk and grabbed her as she grabbed her stomach. "Shit, lady!" He pulled back the blanket. Aela squirmed as a small trickle of blood seeped through her stitches. Balec swore again as he scooped up some bandages and pressed them to her gut. She huffed and kept her shoulders tense.

"Don't. Move like that," Balec sneered. Aela, startled and humbled, nodded frantically as Balec kept pressure. "I won't tell you anymore if you keep thrashing about like a cheap gal, got it?"

She was getting sick of the way he talked, but she stayed still for a very long time before Balec continued.

"They left three days ago looking for Jarvia – she's a tough woman, meaner than Oghren, harsher than Bhelen – and she's got this underground carta that your crew went to deal with. Haven't heard of them since, and it ain't no surprise."

Aela shakily wrote on the parchment. I want to find them.

"Ah, Alistair said you'd might. Another reason why I'm here, besides making sure you don't rip out your fuckin' stitches, is to make sure you don't leave the tavern. He said you had a knack of putting yourself into sticky situations. Heh."

Aela shook her head and averted her gaze. Balec glared.

"Oh, so playing in the Provings alone was not your idea? Listen, sister, if there was an award for the worst decision of the century, that would have been the winner and runner-up."

Balec pulled the bandages away and frowned when blood still pooled and streamed down Aela's branze and bruised belly into the waistband of her trousers. Baledc tossed the bandages onto his lap and grabbed a needle and thread from the bedside table. Aela watched with surprise as Balec expertly thrust the thread through the small hole and he burnt the tip of the needle with a candle atop the bed table.

He then gave her a canteen and pulled the cork out for her. "I'm going to have to sew you back up. Drink, sister."

She set aside the canteen and wrote on her parchment: I don't like whiskey.

Balec looked at her with a very unamused face. "You wanna have this thing poking around inside your gut without being a little drunk?"

Aela shook her head after a moment of reconsideration. Balec shook his own head in disapproval and thrust the needle into the open flesh. Aela cringed and would have squeaked if she had a voice. The dwarf deftly pulled the thread through and continued onward while Aela clutched at the blankets for support.

"As you probably gathered with those pretty eyes of yours," Balec grumbled, "I ain't no mage. So these are gonna scar, and they're gonna be ugly."

Aela twisted her mouth but had no choice but to accept it.

"As for your voice, I dunno if that's gonna come back. See, when you opened wide and all, you threw your whole voice out like a one-night stand that couldn't take a hint. I'm betting if it comes back, it'll be after a time. And since you were out for a good fortnight, you're gonna have to eat a whole lotta nug fat to gain your weight back. Your friends were force-feeding you bread and milk when your body wasn't acting up."

When he said that, she realized how weak she felt. Even though she was lying down again while Balec quickly sewed her up, her shoulders trembled pathetically. Balec finished and pulled her upright again to wrap a whole separate roll of bandages around her waist. He tucked her back into her bed and sat back.

There was a small knock on the door. Aela snapped her eyes to the knob, thinking her party was on the other side of it, but when a housekeeper peeked inside, she frowned.

"Another pint, Balec?" the housekeeper whispered.

"Two, sweet-stuff. I'm the wrong kinda bored right now."

The housekeeper nodded and smiled and slipped away. Aela wrote on the parchment.

They serve you?

Balec sobered for a moment and leaned back. "They do," he replied casually as if the brand on his face meant nothing in his life. "Think this brand makes the tavern staff think less of me?"

But I thought the brand meant you were exiled to Dust Town with no purpose.

"Lady, the first thing they found out when they burned my beautiful mug was that I wasn't going nowhere. I deliver babies, sew up husbands, cure wives. You think anyone else here can do that?"

Surely there would be someone…

Balec laughed again, loudly, and it made Aela jump. "HAH! Sure, some of us know how to wrap a bandage around a foot, but I had to somehow pull a miracle outta my ass and fix you. You think anyone here can open up a Grey Warden and pull some stuff out, sew them up, and have them wake up and sit up a few days later without magic or a fuckin' drink?"

Aela's eyes widened.

"And I had to do that while dealing with Lucjan. He was in the room over. Can you imagine me running back and forth between you two trying to remember who lost which innard? Since then, I've had to fix two dozen pairs of ears – thanks to you – and deliver twins, and make Piotin's buddy look good for his wake."

She stared at the ceiling while the housekeeper snuck in to give Balec his two pints. He kicked the door shut and sat again. He downed one pint before her and tossed the goblet to the floor to finish the other one. He was content and relaxed and Aela was trapped.

Only when there was a loud bang on the door did Balec jump to his feet. He grabbed his maul and pressed it to the door to keep it shut. "Who goes?!" he shouted.

"Open up, Balec!" an angry voice growled. Balec glared at Aela while he yelled back.

"I still gotta patient whose unconscious, you'll have to wait."

Aela took the hint and rolled over to face the wall. She closed her eyes.

"This person's dying!" the man on the other side yelled.

"So is this one," Balec replied. "Start convincing me."

"We're being followed, I need you to let us in. I'll pay you fifty sovereigns!"

Balec grumbled and pulled open the door. "Fine."

Aela tensed as a dwarven couple entered. Balec sucked in a breath but only Aela noticed. "On the bed there, don't even look at the other one. If he finds out I so much as let you into the same room, he'll gut me."

Aela was glad she had rolled over on her side to hide her breasts. She listened as the heavily-clad soldiers limped in. One threw up and made a horrible splattering noise upon the stone. Aela gritted her teeth.

"Thanks, that's lovely," Balec growled. He shut the door. "Do you have any idea how much shit I could get into if they find out that you're here?"

"Shut it, Balec, just get to work," the same voice said. The injured one made no sound.

There was the slightest moment of silence before Balec cleared his throat. "Lots of gashed, a broken jaw."

"So fix it."

"I've done crazy things in my time," Balec said. "Even freakier things. But this is too much."

"You're refusing to help?"

"I will if you explain to me what happened. I'm a sucker for gossip."

Aela had a bad feeling settle into her stomach. Whether that was the throbbing of her belly from recent stitching or a bad omen, she wasn't sure.

"Fine," the man spat. "We were in our hideout, when these people came out of nowhere. Four of them and their mutt. Tore half of us to shreds."

"Shit," Balec muttered. Meanwhile, Aela's eyes were wide open, staring at the wall, frozen. "The other half?"

"You're looking at them."

Balec cleared his throat. "And the people that jumped you?"

"Does it matter?!" the man sneered. "We got out of there the moment their hound tore Miyka's arm off. A Qunari almost smacked Jarvia's jaw right off her face, as you can see. So fix it!"

Jarvia. The woman Alistair and the others were sent to fight.

"Calm, my child," the woman suddenly said in her mind. The same woman who had told her to sing was in her mind, comforting her. "Calm."

"I would, but –"

"Oi," Jarvia slurred loosely. "Who's that?"

"I told you. A patient. Let me see your jaw."

There was a smacking sound. "Don't touch me," Jarvia growled. "My scout told me of a girl with hair white as snow that fought in the Proving."

"This isn't her," Balec growled.

"They said she was in cohorts with other surfacers, and a mabari. Said she gutted Myaja's lover. Said she fought for Harrowmont, who put a hit on me."

"Stop talking, your jaw is in a bad state."

There was the sound of a sword leaving its sheathe. "I'm gonna kill that bitch."

"Don't move, child," the woman cooed.

"She's done nothing to you!" Balec roared. She shoved Jarvia back onto the bed. "And you will not touch her."

"The poor little songbird won't feel a thing," the man said. "Let us have our revenge!"

"No. One more step and I'll shove my maul so far up your ass beyond flirtation, it'll make your head pop off."

"It's not like she's running away," the man growled.

"Oh," Balec groaned. "You really are a sack of shit, ain't yah?"

Aela didn't need another hint. She threw the blankets back and leapt out of the bed, one hand clutching her stomach, the other pulling her forward along the wall. Jarvia and the man both cried out as Aela tore open the door while Balec shoved both back with his maul. Aela stumbled out of the door, forgetting where she was, before running down the hall towards the noise of the tavern. Her legs were too skinny, her arms too boney, and she barely had the strength to shove through the crowd.

"To the left," the woman said in her head. "The side exit."

Aela wriggled through the drunken dwarves, some of whom recognized her.

"It's the singer!"

"Oi, that's the girl who almost killed Lucjan."

"It's the Mockingbird!"

Aela had a hard time as hands grabbed at her, but when they saw a bloodied and very furious Jarvia burst from the hallway, the tavern went insane. Aela managed to duck under swinging weaponry and crawl towards the door unseen among boots and smelly feet, one hand clutching her stomach. She reached up and grabbed the door handle and hauled herself to her shaky feet. She shoved open the door and escaped to the muggy heat of the Commons.

The side exit had led her to an alleyway, littered with garbage and a drunkard sleeping against a wall. Aela wasn't sure where to go or what to do, so she ran down the alley to the main pass. In nothing but trousers and a long bandage covering her entire torso, the sight was abysmal to everyone who saw her stumbling through the crowd.

"That way!" Jarvia's soldier yelled. "GET HER!"

Jarvia stumbled forward, face smeared with gore and a violent expression that would make anyone's blood curdle. No one made a move to help Aela, who was much slower. The man grabbed a lockbox from a kiosk vender and hurled it with all his strength. It crashed into Aela's back, knocking the air out of her lungs. If she screamed, no sound was heard. She hit the ground and rolled over as Jarvia approached, battleaxe in battered hands, while her soldier ran back to block Balec.

Aela threw her hands up as Jarvia released her war cry before there was a snarl, a bark, and more screaming. Duckling leapt over Aela's fallen form, teeth bared and claws sharp. Jarvia was startled enough to freeze while the mabari's full weight in muscle landed on her, and strong jaws closed around her throat. Aela stared at the ferocity in her hound before hands grabbed her. She wriggled before Morrigan's face stopped her.

"Get up, Mockingbird," Morrigan hissed. "Let your dog deal with her."

Mockingbird?

Morrigan pulled an arm over her head while Duckling snapped his head around violently. Jarvia was already lost to stone, but that didn't stop Duckling. The two women stumbled into another alley and behind the shops, away from the noise. Morrigan set Aela down roughly and she was immediately attacking the bandages around her waist.

"I smell the blood under these, you're hurt."

Aela grabbed at her hands and pushed them away. Morrigan looked up with wild yellow eyes as Aela tried to speak. But her voice was still lost. Aela grabbed her throat. Morrigan frowned.

"Oh, lovely. 'Twould have been better if this happened to Alistair instead."

Aela flapped her hands about, trying to ask where he was. Morrigan somewhat understood. "Wait here. I will scout the alley entrance and find the others. Don't move."

The witch left, staff in hand and skin glowing as she began to change forms. Aela huddled against the wall, her stomach cramping painfully.

"Mockingbird…" the woman whispered in her mind. "The gift I granted you has warranted you a nickname, darling."

It also destroyed my voice, woman, Aela groaned internally. The woman giggled.

"When someone uses such great power, you must be careful. Your frail, mortal body could not withstand the godly strength of your song, and now you are silent. But you will get your song back."

I'm not sure I want that, Aela replied.

"Your mother was the same, Maelana," the woman said softly. "She, too, had a powerful and beautiful voice, and when she used it, she used it well. It did get her into trouble, but it was still her tool."

Eleanor simply had a great knowledge of proper vocabulary, Aela spat sourly. And look where that put her.

The woman left her mind then, and Aela felt a small pang of guilt before she heard Duckling squeal amongst the clatter and bang of the fight in the Commons. She leapt to her feet and left the safety of the dark alley to see Morrigan hauling her shaky and battered frame up with her staff while Jarvia's right-hand pulled the dagger from Duckling's shoulder. Duckling squirmed and yelped as the man raised for another blow.

For the first time in her life, she saw red. It was not like the night of the Highever Massacre, but a crimson tunnel vision that made her thirst for blood. She elbowed through the crowd and grabbed the man's hand before it sank into Ducking again. She shoved him back, making no sound, and threw his surprised body back. He stumbled over the edge of the Common's road, tumbling over towards the lava below. Aela almost lost her own footing before a strong hand grabbed her bandages to hold her back.

One of her feet slipped and two arms wrapped around her like a vice. When they pulled her back, her first reaction was to throw her fists towards them as if they were about to attack her again. The strong arms whirled her around and suddenly, her face was buried in the neck of someone familiar.

"Andraste be praised, Aela," Alistair breathed in her ear. He cupped the back of her head until she calmed. "He's okay, Duckling's okay, you're okay."

She pulled back to speak, but no sound was made. Frustrated and high on adrenaline, it became too hard to breathe. She pulled away from Alistair, who looked worse for wear with a split lip and a swollen eye, and she knelt next to her hound, who shook with pain. She wrapped her arms around him and held onto him.

Duckling was all she had from home. Her only true friend and companion through her childhood, and he bled through her fingers. She wanted to laugh and cry and throw up all at once, but all she could do was wallow in the silence of her own presence.

Balec waddled up, bloody maul in hand. "Come on, Aela, let's get you fixed up again. Who knows who else has a bone to pick with you. Heh."

Alistair shot Balec a look. "That sounded a little suggestive."

"Princess, has being around me taught you nothing?"

"Is there anything you won't say?" Leliana asked rhetorically.

"I don't usually say no, if you catch my drift."

Back at the tavern behind reinforced doors, Balec stitched Duckling's wounds closed. The priority should have been Aela, the party knew that, but she refused to let anyone touch her before Duckling. Alistair was in the corner with a cloth filled with ice against his face. Morrigan let Sten pop her ribs back into place while Leliana pressed a poultice into a nasty gash on Sten's back, and Leliana's hand was broken. They were all alive, and exhausted.

But they didn't get to rest for long. By the time Aela's gut had scabbed over four days later, and feverish from a possible infection, another knock sounded. And everyone grabbed their weapons. But it was Harrowmont.

The dwarven noble entered the crowded room wearing a cloak, the hood pulled over his head. He revealed himself and smiled.

"Jarvia has been disposed of. Thank you, Mockingbird."

Alistair groaned. "Just sign the damn papers already, then."

Harrowmont's smile faltered. Leliana frowned. "That look was not a reassuring one, good sir."

"Look, I can truthfully say I'm thankful for you dealing with Jarvia in my favour. The Assembly certainly noticed… but they are still locked with the fact that Bhelen is the rightful heir through blood. They have requested the favour of one more party."

Aela audibly sighed while Alistair looked like he was about to slap Harrowmont across the beard.

"Sounds like you want them to chase after a Paragon, you sod."

Harrowmont looked at Balec, calm. "Yes, I suppose it does."

There was a moment before Balec crossed the room, livid. "A PARAGON? Are you seriously that big of a fool, Harrowmont?! Who? Who the fuck do you think we can find to do that?!"

A gruff voice sounded behind Harrowmont, and a dwarf with a wild red beard and the stink of booze around him smirked. Balec groaned.

"Oghren, you're a sodding fool."

"Come on, it'll be fun. Even more fun than those twins from a while back, remember them?"

Alistair interjected, annoyed and confused. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Well, I don't remember their names, pretty boy, but they sure were wild."

Harrowmont shook his head. "I'm funding a full expedition to find the Paragon Branka. We have information proving that she is most likely alive. Find her and get her favour, and you'll get your army."

Balec fumed and turned to Aela, who hid the fact that her gut still hurt and her fever was spiking very well. "Your move sister."

Aela twisted her mouth and she had no other choice but to nod. Balec grunted at Harrowmont, who bowed and left. "Great. The Deep Roads. The only thing that's deep that I fucking hate."

"Aela, get down!" Alistair cried. He crashed into her after she cut down a darkspawn. She hit the ground, losing the air in her lungs. Alistair shielded her as the ground shook violently beneath them. Her heart seized and she looked up from the ground.

The ground outside Denerim, in the valley to the east, broke apart like an eggshell. Smoke belched from the earthly gash, and claws gnarled and sharpened emerged. A colossal wing made of rotting flesh and slime burst from the whole in the ground, and the claw gouged the stone to haul the rest of the archdemon out of the underworld, the Deep Roads. It snarled, and even though it was miles away, Aela thought she could smell death about him.

In her heart, she felt the archdemon smile. The rest of his body left the underground and he stood on his hind legs, wings outstretched after so long in the dark. Fire exploded forth and set the clouds on fire, his shriek a mixture of all things suffering.

Aela closed her eyes and Alistair held her.

"Calm, my love," he whispered harshly. "Don't let him in."

"Aye, I won't let him touch you, my child," the woman said. "He can scream all he want, but his song has no power over you."

Another wave smashed through the army the Grey Wardens tried so hard to recruit. So Aela and Alistair were back on their feet, and they tried their hardest to ignore the fact that the archdemon was in The Barron, stretching his wings and his jaws, ready to feast and fly and destroy the world. All Aela could think about was Riordan, and where he was, and how he was going to take down that monster.