Chapter Five: West Hill
"Darrian."
"Nnnnngghh..."
"Darrian." The elf felt someone grab his ankle and give his leg a shake.
"Mmppf... five more minutes..."
"Tchah, in five minutes you'll miss it!"
Darrian was almost too sleepy to be curious – but only almost. "Miss what?"
"Get your ass out of your bed roll and come and see."
"Urrgh..." Darrian sat up, his black hair stuck up at every angle. Elissa was crouching at the tent flap, dressed and armoured and smiling. The bitch.
"How are you so chipper?" Darrian grumbled. "The sun's not even up yet!"
"Which is why I woke you up. Come onnnnn!" she said, grabbing his leg to give it another shake. "Get dressed. You'll want to see this."
"Alright, alright..." Darrian wriggled out from under the covers and pulled on his armour, cursing with every other breath at the biting cold in the air. Madoc quickly commandeered Darrian's still-warm bedroll and curled up to snooze once more.
They had left Orlais and headed south, as planned, but their timing couldn't have been worse for travelling: by the time they reached the border the passes over the Frostbacks were unuseable. They spent the winter with the small detachment of Wardens in Halamshiral, where Elissa gleaned some information on the situation in Amaranthine. Apparently the darkspawn were not retreating to the Deep Roads as was supposedly normal and causing more trouble than expected.
He couldn't really blame Elissa for wanting to return to Ferelden as soon as the passes had thawed even the slightest bit. As soon as the first scout crossed the Frostbacks from Ferelden, Elissa declared it was time to go.
It was still bloody cold though.
Darrian rubbed his bleary eyes and stepped out of the tent, his studded leather boots crunching on the snowy ground. They had set their tent up in the shelter of a crag just off the corner of the main mountain road. The road was downhill from here, with sheer cliff drops on the edge of the road.
Elissa was standing on a piled formation of rocks at the road's edge, looking out over the view in front of her. "Come up here," she said, gesturing to Darrian.
The elf clambered up the rocks beside her and sat on the edge, his legs dangling over the drop below. He whistled. "That's a long way down," he commented.
"But look at that view," Elissa said.
"That's..." Darrian started. "That's Ferelden?"
"Yep."
"Wow..." he breathed.
The sun was just rising over the hilled horizon, bathing the landscape before them in soft morning light. The sky was near enough clear but for the tendrils of dawn mist clinging to the mountaintop allowing the two Wardens to see for miles. The roads were winding lines through a patchwork of fields and forests, dotted with small squares of roofs of settlements. Darrian, who had never been out of Denerim before being sold, was in awe. How had he not known how big Ferelden was?
Elissa looked down at her companion and grinned, sitting down next to him. "See there?" she said, pointing. "That's Lake Calenhad. And that's the Circle Tower, right on the north end of the lake. The plains beyond the lake are the Bannorn. You can't see much of Redcliffe from this angle, the Red Hills are in the way, but you can see the roads leading up to the village. That swath of green to the distance is the Brecilian Forest." Elissa sighed happily and looked northwards. "There's the sea port of Waking Seas, and that river and headland further east? That's West Hill. Highever's hidden in that mountain range beyond West Hill..." she trailed off wistfully and smiled.
"Where's Denerim?"
"Far to the east, beyond the Bannorn. We won't be able to see it from here." Elissa leant back on her arms and let the dawn sunlight wash over her face. "This is Ferelden."
"Home," Darrian said softly. Elissa nodded in agreement and sighed.
"We're home."
x.x.x
The roads to West Hill were relatively clear, save for the usual odd troupe of bandits. Both Elissa and Darrian were wearing thick cloaks to ward against the spring rains and try and cover the fact that they were well equipped. That didn't seem to stop the bandits, however.
"Maker's breath," Darrian said, retrieving some of his arrows from a bandit's corpse. "Perhaps we should go about with our weapons on show. It might deter them."
"Hm, if only it were that easy," Elissa said, cleaning off Starfang. "Some of them see weapons as an invitation for a fight."
"I guess," Darrian said, riffling through the pockets of the dead man at his feet. "Oh hello... this one must have been the leader," he said, lifting out the pouch and peering inside. "A good handful of sovereigns in there."
"Anyone would think we were penniless and that we didn't spend all winter doing Chanter's work in Halamshiral, the way you scavenge."
"Waste not, want not, that's what I always say," Darrian countered, pocketing the pouch.
"Well, true enough I suppose..." Elissa shrugged. "Come on. If we keep a good pace we should be able to make West Hill in an hour or two."
"Just in time for dinner. Excellent!" Elissa snorted with laughter at Darrian's enthusiasm - his appetite was fairly hearty before he took the Joining, but adding the taint-hunger to it made it seem like the elf's life revolved around mealtimes.
They were only a few miles from West Hill when Elissa started to feel a familiar hum through her blood. She met Darrian's eye and the elf nodded. "My Warden senses are tingling," he said, wiggling his fingers.
Elissa resisted the urge to laugh at Darrian's colloquial name for sensing darkspawn. Darrian had only encountered darkspawn two or three times since he Joined, but he had rapidly tuned in and accommodated the sensation. "Quickly. They're not far."
The two Wardens set off at a steady run, Madoc at their heels. The shadowy silhouette of West Hill loomed at the end of the road, and darkspawn were swarming the fields outside of the city.
The group of darkspawn was not particular organised by Blight standards, but still more intelligent that the typical Blight-free groups. There were perhaps thirty in total, including two ogres and four alphas.
The gates to the city were shut, but a group of a dozen people were stranded outside the gates as the darkspawn bore down upon them.
The city guard were on the battlements, the archers firing upon the darkspawn with little effect. Elissa quickly scanned the area and made her decision.
"Darrian," she said, pointing towards a hill overlooking the field, "get to that higher ground. Pick off any that go for the civilians." The elf nodded and headed off at a run, and Elissa looked down at her faithful hound. "Madoc, round 'em up," she said with a smirk. "Guard the refugees and try and drive the spawn to me." The dog barked in response and sprinted off. Elissa closed the gap between her and the group and shrugged her cloak off her shoulders. The darkspawn presence was singing through her blood and she latched on to it, willing the darkspawn to notice her and not the fleeing villagers. She brought the fingers of one hand to her lips and let out a sharp, piercing whistle (a trick that her father taught her, much to her mother's dismay.)
One by one the alphas turned to the source of the noise and source of their shared taint. The ogre then followed, its lumbering steps shaking the earth beneath Elissa's feet.
Arrows whistled through the air as Darrian expertly achieved what the guard archers couldn't, killing darkspawn with swiftly and precisely aimed attacks. Elissa heard Madoc's war howl as the mabari stood his ground between the darkspawn and the refugees. The Cousland stepped forward towards the oncoming rabble and unsheathed her blades from her back, anticipation and adrenalin surging through her.
Truly, she enjoyed this far more than she ought to.
She threw herself at her assailants with a vicious, blood-curdling cry, and set about slaying her sworn foes. Hurlock and genlock alike fell at her hand, her swords arcing through the air in practiced motions, blood showering the ground around her. Poorly swung darkspawn blades glanced off her armour, but she felt a stinging sensation along her left shoulder – one had clearly got past her guard and splintmail, but not enough to stop her flow. She ignored it, and pressed on.
One of the alphas swung his massive axe at her head but fell backwards with a gurgle, an arrow lodge in the juncture of its neck between a chink in its armour. A second was impaled on one of Elissa's blades and its head severed cleanly with the other; the third fell as the Cousland spun in a whirlwind. Elissa ducked to avoid a vicious swing from the remaining alpha in the fray and slashed at its legs. The beast fell to the floor with a scream, unable to move. She would finish it off later – for now, there was the ogre to deal with.
With the alphas gone, the grunts were scattering, falling to Darrian's arrows from the higher ground and allowing Elissa to focus on the lumbering ogre. It was clearly an old one, bearing scars from previous skirmishes or battles with its own kind in the Deep Roads. Elissa dodged one of its lunging fists and jumped to avoid the shock of the shaking earth as it pounded its hands on the ground angrily.
As the ogre recovered from its furious onslaught, Elissa spied her opening and dashed forward with a shout. She slashed down then up across the ogre's chest, causing it to stumble backwards, then leapt in the air, one foot aiding in the ogre's fall to the floor. She stabbed it in the neck quickly before it could recover and throw her off, blood coating her arms.
Elissa felt the darkspawn presence in her blood fading as Darrian and Madoc picked off the remaining stragglers. Elissa hopped off the ogre's corpse and quickly headed over to her hound, gesturing to Darrian on the hill to come down. She knelt down and checked Madoc over, who was panting following his exertions, and the dog gave an exhilarated, post-battle victory bark.
"Is he hurt?" Darrian asked, strapping his bow to his back again.
"No, he seems okay. Aren't you boy?" Madoc yipped happily and wagged his stumpy tail. "What about you?" she added, standing up and turning to the rogue.
Darrian made a show of looking himself over and checking his limbs. "Everything where it should be and in one piece. More than I can say for you, mind," he said, nodding to Elissa's arm.
Elissa looked at her offhand shoulder. "Just a scratch," she said, looking at the cut that ran down the back of her arm from the top of her shoulder to her elbow. "Not poisoned, a clean cut for once. I'll clear it up once we find out what's going on."
"That's... not normal, is it? A group this large on the surface without a Blight?"
"No. Not supposed to be, anyway. Especially with that many alphas – nice shot on the big one by the way – they are, based on the extensive reports preserved at Weisshaupt, only regular during Blights. It seems the piecemeal reports we had in Halamshiral were right – things haven't settled down here as quickly as they should have." Elissa readjusted her splintmail and pushed some stray strands of hair back behind her ears. "Come on. I don't know about you but I'm starving now."
They made their way to the city gates and the refugees still waiting outside the gates.
"Maker's breath, man!" she heard one of the men exclaim angrily. "Use your eyes! The darkspawn are gone now, let us in!"
"Captain's orders," came the reply from the open hatch in the door. "None of you are to be allowed in case of corruption. We cannot risk granting you entry to the city."
"But none of us are corrupted!"
"We can't know that."
"Hold," Elissa said, stepping forward and resting a calming hand on the man's shoulder. "The guard cannot be asked to go against his orders. Be thankful he is diligent in his duties." What little of the man's face that could be seen beneath his helmet and through the hatch flushed proudly. "However, ser, if you would bring your commanding officer to see me I would greatly appreciate it." Elissa smiled warmly as the man behind the door stuttered in agreement and shut the hatch.
The refugee man was still disgruntled. "Bloody fool! All it takes is a pretty face – begging your pardon, milady," he added hastily. Elissa gave the man a small smile.
"I can understand your frustrations but the captain's fears of the corruption disease are potentially valid. Are any of you wounded?"
"Y-yes..." the man stammered, "my eldest son. He's over here..." The farmer led Elissa and Darrian to where his son was resting in the back of one of the wagons, his arm heavily bandaged and being tended by an older woman who, judging from the similar coloured hair and features, was his mother. His skin was very pale and sweat ran down his brow. Elissa felt her heart sink – she could feel the poison in him. She reached over and put a hand on his burning forehead.
"When was he bitten?" she asked the father.
"The day before yesterday," the farmer answered. "He fought off a few stragglers that had broken into the barn... wait..." The farmer swallowed nervously. "How did you know he was bitten?"
Elissa straightened and was about to break the bad news to the father when Darrian called her over. The captain was waiting. "I'll be but a moment," Elissa said. "Excuse me."
Darrian was standing near the door hatch, looking very angry. He leant in to Elissa and quietly whispered "the man's an asshole," to her.
Elissa sighed. Oh joy, she thought sarcastically, stepping to the open hatch and peering through.
"Who are you? What do you want?" The captain was a grizzled man in his mid-forties, clearly one that had seen a lot of trouble and had very little patience. With his remit as West Hill, Elissa could imagine that his no-nonsense attitude had its benefits – the damage done to the arling during the rebel was horrendous, and spawned an area (when not littered with darkspawn) that was rife with bandits. Nevertheless, Elissa had very little time for the narrow-minded – especially the narrow-minded that were endangering others as a result.
"My name is Elissa, and my companion is Darrian. We are Grey Wardens, passing through, and were hoping to rest and restock in West Hill."
The captain laughed. "Grey Wardens? You're not Orlesian."
"Because I am a native Ferelden, born and bred," Elissa said.
The captain snorted. "Then if you're Grey Wardens you better prove it. Only ones I've heard about are Orlesian."
Elissa gritted her teeth and bit back a scathing reply. Darrian, however, wasn't so restrained. "We just decimated a band of darkspawn in a matter of minutes to save these people and probably some of your guards sorry asses and you question who we are?"
"Silence, knife-ears, I'll not have any backchat from you!"
"Do not speak to my second like that again," Elissa ground out darkly. "Or I will personally see that you regret it."
"Threatening me isn't going to get you entry, sugar," the captain sneered.
"You would do well to open the gates and admit her, Stevens," a commanding female voice rang out. The captain turned towards the source of the voice behind him. "Arl Wulff will not be best pleased to hear that you made life difficult for the Hero of Ferelden."
Elissa grinned at the newcomer who had just stepped down the stairs from the battlements. "It is good to see you well, Bann Alfstanna," she said.
The young Bann of Waking Seas returned Elissa's smile. "Likewise. Come now, Captain Stevens, let the Wardens in. You ought to be at least a little more respectful since they no doubt saved the lives of some of your men."
The captain grunted. "Very well. What of the refugees?" the captain said, turning back to the hatch. "Are any of them sick?"
"Just the one," Elissa admitted quietly. She sighed. "I will deal with him and his family now. The rest are clean."
"Fine. Open the gates! I expect you to keep your blades to yourselves," the captain growled out. "I'll not tolerate brawling in my city."
Elissa was about to pass comment about his assumptions about Grey Wardens, but given that her time in Denerim was often interspersed with violence (though she instigated none of it) she could just about understand his wariness. "Understood. My thanks, Captain."
The refugees filed in through the now open gates, but Elissa stopped the farmer and his wife and the wagon bearing their injured son. "I cannot let him in the city," Elissa said to the father sadly. She waited until the rest of the refugees were out of earshot before continuing. "He is the only one bearing the corruption sickness," she continued, trying to ignore the soft cry of despair from the mother. "While he is not directly contagious he is still a danger."
"I don't understand," the father said, his voice thick with emotion. "How did you know he was bitten?"
"The taint disease is not airborne, like influenza or smallpox. It's a poison, transmitted through extended contact with a blighted area, ingestion of fluids or infected wounds. The Blight is over, so the darkspawn should not be in enough numbers to disease the land or water sources meaning your son had to have sustained a direct wound from a darkspawn." Elissa swallowed away the tightness in her throat. "There is no cure. I am sorry," she said.
"So he's just going to die?" the man choked out, his eyes welling up. The mother let out a small sob. "Oh, my boy... my son..."
Elissa braced herself for the worst part. "It will be better if he is delivered now," she said quietly to the parents. "Before the pain and poison changes him. If you wish it, I will take the responsibility. Trust me when I say you do not want to know what will happen if it is left unchecked," she added, seeing the father open his mouth to protest. "I am truly sorry."
The farmer looked at Elissa directly in the eyes and his shoulders slumped, accepting that she was not lying. "I do not want to ask such a thing of you but... Warden, I hope you will not think any less of me, for though I know he suffers I still cannot bring myself to kill my own son."
The wife, desperately trying to hold back her sobs, let out a small wail. Tears flooded down her face and Elissa forced herself not to look. Maker help me, she thought. She tried to fill her head with her usual mantra of duty first but amongst it she couldn't help but think that her time away had left her very out of practice when dealing with difficult decisions. "Of course not," she said. "Nor would I expect you to. Darrian," she called to her companion, "would you kindly find the Chantry in the city and ask them to make the relevant preparations for a service please?"
Darrian nodded stiffly and vanished through the gates. Elissa reached out and put her hand on the farmer's shoulder, who was supporting his grieving wife. "Go to the Chantry," she said, "I will meet you there and have the guards bring your belongings."
The farmer nodded stiffly and led his wife towards the city. They had gone a few steps when Elissa's voice stopped them.
"What is his name?" she said. She didn't turn towards them, because she couldn't.
"Tallin," the man replied quietly. "He name is Tallin."
Elissa nodded once, stiffly, and strode up to the wagon. She lifted the feverish young man from the cart and laid him on the ground, out of sight of the walls and the city. He mumbled slightly and briefly opened his eyes.
"Mother," he tried calling out. "Where is she?"
"She is safe," Elissa replied. "Your father too. They made it to West Hill and are safe. You did well, Tallin."
The young man managed a small sigh of relief which quickly dissolved into ragged coughing and a moan of pain. "The voices," he mumbled. "They won't stop. Maker... make them be quiet..."
Elissa bowed her head and unsheathed her dagger from her waist. His eyes flickered shut again as he slipped into unconsciousness once more. Maker forgive me, Elissa thought as she slipped the blade between the boy's ribs and up to his heart.
x.x.x
The evening's funeral service was swift but tactful, and Elissa had regained enough courage to be able to look both grieving parents in the eyes (helped by the fact that she was clean of all blood, hers, the boy's and the darkspawn's, thanks to the Chantry allowing her to bathe in their living quarters and one of the Sister's bandaging her wound). The mother clearly blamed Elissa for the death of her son while the father was more accepting of the situation. Thankfully neither quizzed her on the further potential effects of the darkspawn taint – she didn't think she'd be able to find appropriate words to sensitively say "he would become one of them."
Madoc, who had been waiting outside, barked happily as they approached and quickly went to Elissa's heel. The doors to the Chantry swung shut behind them and Darrian's stomach chose that moment to make a protest. Elissa smirked. "Hungry?"
"Like you wouldn't believe. Pub?"
Elissa nodded. "Pub," she agreed. Hopefully one with a good wine... she could do with a glass... or four.
They rounded the corner of the Chantry walls to the Market Square and Elissa resisted a groan. Clearly, word had got out about her arrival, and a crowd had gathered in the square, waiting for a glimpse of her.
"There she is!"
"The Hero of Ferelden!"
"Bollocks," Elissa muttered. Darrian started to laugh but it was cut short when Elissa jabbed him in the side.
"I don't know what you're laughing about, they're standing between us and the pub!"
"Ah... bugger," Darrian conceded, rubbing his bruising side.
"Psst! Warden! Over here!"
Elissa both looked over to the shadows in an alley from where an armoured hand was gesturing to them. "There's a way out here," said the man's voice. "Alfstanna said you might run into some bother."
Elissa didn't need asking twice. She slipped into the darkness of the alleyway, Darrian and Madoc not far behind. The man, dressed in heavy armour, led the way left and right through the network of alleys until they reached a back door. Judging from the noise from inside the building and the lingering smell of ale, they were at the servant's entrance of an inn.
The man pushed the door open, bathing the shadowy alley in the light from inside. Elissa's mouth dropped open. "It's... Irminric, isn't it? The Templar from the Denerim dungeons?"
Irminric smiled. "The very same. I'm surprised you remember me."
"I'm surprised you remember me," Elissa said in disbelief. "You... were not exactly in a particularly lucid state at the time. No offence intended."
Irminric let out a low laugh. "None taken – because you were right. I was a sorry mess – but let's get you inside before we catch up. Alfstanna is waiting to see you."
Irminric led them through the narrow corridor and through an archway into what Elissa assumed was one of the private back rooms of the inn. Alfstanna was leaning back on a chair, her legs propped up on the table. When Elissa entered, Darrian and Madoc in tow, Alfstanna quickly swung her legs to the floor and stood up, the chair falling back on all of its legs with a small bang.
"Elissa!" Alfstanna exclaimed, folding the Cousland in a brief embrace. "Good that you have time to stop by after the fiasco at the gate. I apologise on behalf of Arl Wulff for Captain Stevens – he's a trying man at the best of times."
Elissa grinned. "No worries, Bann Alfstanna – his fears were somewhat justified."
"But his questioning that you were a Grey Warden wasn't," Alfstanna said with a sigh, sitting back down at the table. Elissa and Irminric joined her, and Madoc wriggled between their legs to lie under the table.
"I'm going to order some food," Darrian said, gesturing towards the bar. "Can I get anyone anything else?"
Alfstanna and Irminric shook their heads but Elissa sighed wistfully. "I don't know," she said, "I don't care. Anything that masquerades as edible. And a bottle of red – either a Highever or Antivan vintage, whichever." Elissa looked embarrassed when she turned back to Alfstanna as Darrian left. "Apologies for my manners, but Darrian and I haven't eaten since midday – and we weren't expecting darkspawn at the end of it either."
Alfstanna shook her head. "No need to apologise. Now," she said, clasping her hands together. "You are on your way home, yes? Fergus will be so glad to see you! He's been ever so worried."
Elissa smiled, warmed by the Bann's enthusiasm, but she paused, re-evaluating Alfstanna's tone and words in her head. "'Fergus', is it?" she inquired with a smirk. Alfstanna, who was rarely so easily flustered, felt a blush rise in her cheeks and she cleared her throat.
"Well, the teryn doesn't like to stand on ceremony..." she started.
"That as may be, but I thought you were a stickler for the rules," Elissa replied.
Irminric laughed as his sister blushed and clapped her on the back. "Face it, Alfstanna, you're only good at bluffing when it comes to politics, not when it comes to family."
Alfstanna fumbled. "But... well... Fergus wanted to tell you himself," she finished limply.
Elissa grinned at the Bann. "So... you are courting then? And mayhap more?" Elissa laughed as Alfstanna's flush deepened.
"Nothing's official yet... and it's all on the quiet," she admitted ruefully. "I cannot abandon my duties at Waking Seas just yet, but my nephew comes of age in a few months and he is more than capable to manage the bannorn. We intend to announce our intentions when I step down."
Elissa thought her grin might split her face in two. "That's wonderful news! When did this start then?"
"Just before the summer assizes in Highever. I'd arrived early and Fergus and I went hunting... then went back for a few drinks in the study and well..." Alfstanna flushed. "One thing led to another. Strange how easy it was to go from friends to more," she mused aloud.
"Not so strange," Elissa said, thinking briefly of the various lovers she had had in the past. "Well now I definitely cannot wait to see him. I've been away too long."
Alfstanna reached across the table and gave Elissa's wrist a reassuring squeeze. "I wish I could go with you just to see his face when you arrive back. Alas, I am needed back in Waking Seas before the Landsmeet – my visit here was only to help Wulff with some of his holders."
Irminric snorted. "Never in my life have I met such ignorant fools. It's as if their whole life is worthless unless they are complaining."
"What brings you to West Hill then, Irminric?" Elissa asked, remembering the question she wanted to ask of him earlier. "Have you moved bases?" As Elissa recalled, Irminric was stationed in Nettlemoors, south of Lake Calenhad docks.
"Ah... not exactly," Irminric looked a little sheepish. "I'm not a Templar anymore."
"What?" Elissa looked shocked. "The Chantry let you leave? How?"
"Well it wasn't entirely my choice," Irminric admitted. "But after the fiasco with that maleficar – Jorran? Jowern?"
"Jowan," Elissa corrected.
"Yes, that was it... how did you know that?"
Elissa waved him off. "Long story. Some other time, maybe."
"Yes well," Irminric eyed Elissa a bit suspiciously for a brief moment but continued. "When you found me in that cell – what little I can remember of being in there anyway – I was in a fair state. I was down there for around seven or eight months as I recall and the withdrawal... well, the Grand Cleric deemed it unsafe for me to be put back onto the lyrium and instead helped me see it through."
"That was... generous of her," Elissa admitted grudgingly. When she found out from Alistair about the Chantry's controls, she was disgusted. And after meeting some particular irksome and almost vindictive Revered Mothers on her travels her faith in the Chantry system was near enough diminished.
Irminric made a noise of assent. "It was... though it's all rather hush-hush as you can imagine. Can't have word getting out that lyrium addiction is curable after all, but I can't go back to being a Templar with my newly developed lyrium resistance."
"But you can still use templar talents without lyrium," Elissa said.
"True enough, but it would look odd if I wasn't taking the lyrium with the others each morning." Irminric sighed. "To be quite honest I think the only reason they let me live was because I'm Alfstanna's brother and my disappearance wouldn't go without notice."
"Irminric!" Alfstanna exclaimed. "Don't say such things!"
Elissa nodded gravely. "I am inclined to agree with him. The Chantry have many secrets that they love to keep – not to mention enough skeletons in their closet to ruin them should the public find out. When Alistair was recruited as an initiate, the Grand Cleric didn't want to let him go. Duncan – the Warden Commander at the time," she added, spotting the siblings' blank looks, "was forced to conscript and Alistair was made to promise not divulge any 'secrets'." Elissa snorted. "As you can probably tell from my knowledge of the way things are run, that did not last very long."
"How much did he tell you?" Irminric asked.
"Tell me? Or show me?" Elissa shrugged. "As I said, you don't need lyrium to employ the talents. They come in handy when dealing with the darkspawn spellcasters."
The conversation was stopped momentarily when Darrian breezed into the room, two bottles of wine held by their necks in one hand and four glasses by their stems in the other. He laid the glasses carefully on the table and brandished both bottles of wine, adjusting his hold do his grasp was about the base of the bottle. "Which first, my lady," he said with a teasing grin, "the Highever 22 or the Antivan 28? Food's on its way, don't worry," he said, answering Elissa's question before she had a chance to answer it. "Besides, I'd wager that the Highever beauty is liquid food in itself," he added.
"For an Alienage elf, you are quite the connoisseur, Master Tabris. Darrian grinned and slid into the chair next to Elissa.
"I had my sources of fine wines," he said.
"Honestly or dishonestly appropriated?"
"Honestly appropriated by me. I had no idea of their previous origins."
"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Elissa remarked dryly. Darrian just shrugged and popped open the cork on the Highever vintage.
"Might as well drink this one while we're sober enough to appreciate it. Bann Alfstanna?"
"Mm, yes please."
"Ser Irminric?"
"Ah, it's just Irminric. And no, thank you. I don't drink."
"I don't see why not," Alfstanna muttered. "It's not as if you've got to worry about the Chantry anymore."
"Former Brother?" Darrian guessed.
"Former Templar," Irminric corrected. Darrian looked confused.
"Didn't know they let you guys go."
"They don't. Usually. Mitigating circumstances," Irminric said in response to Darrian's questioning look. The elf shrugged.
"Fair enough. Still, if you're no longer bound by your oaths then a little tipple never hurt anyone." Darrian took a sip from his glass and made a satisfying humming noise. "And this is good wine."
"If you don't mind me asking, Irminric, how does a noble's son end up as a Templar?" Elissa asked, leaning back in her chair.
Irminric sighed. "Tradition, mainly. That and our ancestors seemed particularly Maker-fearing. With Waking Seas being the nearest port town to the Circle and since the bannorns outer holdings border Orlais, you could almost say it the favourite first destination for Tower runaways. The second child of our family has been sent to the service of the family for about five generations. Then of course shortly after I took my vows, Hennrith – my elder brother - died at sea."
"The Maker does have an awful sense of humour," Alfstanna remarked sadly. Darrian and Elissa, both products of ill-fate, whole heartedly agreed with her.
"So what are you going to do with your freedom then?" Darrian said. "Must be liberating, being free of the Chantry and its lyrium."
Irminric snorted. "You would have thought so, but when it is your whole life and you devote yourself to it wholeheartedly... I feel decidedly lost right now. I'll probably keep drifting after Alfstanna," he said giving his sister a good-natured elbow. "Then mayhap when she goes to settle down in Highever, I'll go with her," he added with a grin, watching Alfstanna flush. "Your brother's always got space for a good swordsman, or so I hear."
"I would guess so. The combination of Ostagar and Howe's treachery probably ruined our forces entirely." Elissa took a hasty gulp of her wine. "I hate to think how many widows Highever has thanks to that slimy bastard."
They sat together for a few hours, sharing stories, cursing Howe, taking about the future. Elissa even managed to give Alfstanna a few choice tales about Fergus, just to embarrass him (after all, what were little sisters for?) before the Bann and her brother retired for the night.
"You will be at the Landsmeet, yes?" Alfstanna asked.
"Quite probably."
The Bann of Waking Seas smiled warmly. "Then I will see you there. Give Fergus my regards."
"Only your regards?" Elissa teased, earning herself a thump on the arm. The two young women exchanged grins before Alfstanna turned to catch up with her brother outside.
Elissa went up the stairs of the inn to find a sleepy Madoc occupying half of the bed in the room Darrian had rented. The elf was stretched out on the other half, already divested of his armour and in his shirt and trousers, covering a yawn with one hand.
"So we're to be up at the crack of dawn tomorrow?" he said. Elissa stripped down to her undershirt and trousers shoved Madoc off the bed so she could crawl under the covers.
"Ideally yes. Hopefully we can make the two day trek in a day and a half that way – get to Highever by lunchtime the day after tomorrow. Depending on bandits or darkspawn, obviously."
"Ah yes, the ever present time-consuming variables. The bastards." Elissa snorted into the pillow. She felt fingers in her hair as Darrian took the hairpins out of her braids and freed her long dark hair. "So, she's going to be your sister-in-law then?"
"So it would seem," Elissa murmured. "It's good Fergus has found someone new – and someone decent. Plenty of women would attempt to take advantage of his position."
"And you don't think she will?"
"I doubt it. Alfstanna is a very direct and down-to-earth woman. She'll be a support for Fergus, not a driving force. She is an accomplished speaker at the Landsmeet, true, but only on issues which she feels are absolutely necessary." Elissa remembered one of the Landsmeets she went to as a teenager and her father praising Alfstanna's mindset. "As a rule, she prefers action to politics, and certainly doesn't tolerate the games played in and out of the Landsmeet chamber." Elissa shrugged. "I will see what Fergus has to say when I get to Highever."
"Is she anything like his previous wife? Oriana?"
"No – not at all. Oriana was just as intelligent, of course, but her skills were tailored towards the softer political games and family matters. She was also a shrewd businesswoman. Alfstanna's skills are different, including fighting and commanding platoons – more direct and to the point, a true Ferelden." Elissa smiled into her pillow. "I'd be more than happy to call her sister."
"So you're looking forward to getting to Highever?"
"I'm looking forward to seeing my brother," Elissa said. "The jury's still out on Highever. I'll know how I feel when we get to the Cliffs of Conobar." Elissa turned her head to look at Darrian in the eye. "No matter what I say I should be going to Highever. If for whatever reason I change my mind, no is not an option. Knock me out and drag me if necessary."
"Must get to Highever. Got it," Darrian said, wriggling under the covers. "Will there be tears at this reunion?"
"Make, I hope not." Darrian laughed at Elissa's tone and leant over to blow out the candle and settled back for some well earned rest. Elissa lay awake in the dark for a while, her mind buzzing with memories of Highever, before finally succumbing to sleep.
x.x.x.x.x
Next chapter: Highever! EEEEE I'm so excited, I can't wait to finish writing it.
Just a quick note on Darrian and Elissa's relationship – not that anyone has queried it yet, but they are just close friends who have been travelling and fighting together for nearly a year, so (as with my long term friendships) physical boundaries are erased somewhat. Hopefully they're not coming across as romantic, since that's not my intention, so just to clarify ^_^ (in case anyone is wondering).
Please review – they really make my day! :D Will endeavour to get Chapter Six up soon.
All the best
~phoenixandashes x