V. Search but Never Find

Kirkwall was such a different place from anything Kali had ever seen before! She had thought that Denerim was a huge, bustling city, but even that paled in comparison to the high, daunting walls of this new city, and the rush of people that scurried back and forth through the docks. Although, Kali thought as she looked around at the buildings, just because Kirkwall was much bigger than Denerim didn't mean it was more impressive. Denerim was a warm, friendly city; a city where people were always ready with a cheerful greeting, children ran through the streets playing games, and merchants tried to entice people to come view their wares.

By contrast, Kirkwall seemed... tense. No one laughed or gossiped like they did in Denerim; the people seemed to be constantly shouting out orders or yelling at each other. If anything, the docks made Kali think of a rowdy inn where a brawl could break out at any moment. She clutched tighter to Anyu, almost afraid that if she set the girl down for more than a second, she'd end up getting lost in the mad shuffle around the docks.

While Kali was staring around at the tall buildings, gawking like some country girl coming to a city for the first time in her life, someone bumped into her with a harsh thud, almost knocking both her and Anyu to the ground. "Hey! Watch it, knife-ear!" a man shouted. But, before she could get a good look at him, he was already gone, disappearing into the crowd of people rushing around.

Kali straightened up, shifting Anyu on her hip and checking to make sure the girl was okay. She wasn't sure if she wanted to laugh or cry; it had been years since she had been called a knife-ear. In Ferelden, that word had almost become non-existent. Most people had tried their best to put aside the racial problems that divided humans and elves. Sure, there were a few people who still clung to their hate but, for the most part, people had become quite accepting of one another. As for Kali herself, well, she was a famous Warden; no one had called her a knife-ear since before the Blight.

"Aunt Kali, why did that man call you a knife-ear?"

It was a very uncomfortable moment, to see Anyu's innocent blue eyes staring at her so curiously. Ashara and Tamlen had always done their best to shield Anyu from the problems elves and humans faced together. They had wanted their daughter to grow up without the pressure of racial barriers; they had wanted her to accept humans, elves, and dwarves equally without any sense of hate. As such, she had no idea of the work it had taken to help humans and elves understand one another.

But, Kali guessed that if she lied about the term now, it was only going to make things worse. They weren't in Ferelden anymore; Anyu was going to learn about it sooner or later. "Well, some humans call elves knife-ears because they don't really like us. It's... not a nice thing to call someone."

"Why don't they like us?"

Kali shifted, unsure of what to say. "I guess... it's because they think that elves aren't as good as they are."

"Well that's stupid," Anyu said firmly, with all the surety of a young girl.

Kali couldn't help but smile. "I agree. But, don't worry, most humans don't hate us. It's just mean, stupid people who do."

Anyu nodded and looked around the docks curiously. Unconsciously, she nestled herself closer to Kali's side, apparently feeling nervous at being in such a strange area. "Um, are we going to eat soon? I'm hungry."

"Let's wait until Zevran comes back, okay?"

"Okay."

Kali shifted Anyu to her other hip—for such a small girl, she weighed a ton—and took them over to the side of a large building, carefully placing herself so that the two of them could stay out of the way but still see anyone approaching them. One of the things she had learned from Zevran was how to find a spot to keep a careful eye on everyone around while seemingly ignoring everything.

Once they were well placed, Kali checked to make sure that Anyu's hood was pulled up over her white hair, but the little girl instantly tried to push it back down. "I want to see, Aunt Kali!"

Kali rolled her eyes. "You can see just fine with your hood up."

Realizing that Kali wasn't going to give in to her dramatics, Anyu frowned. "But, it's hot here and I want it down. Why do I have to keep it pulled up?"

Kali could see Anyu's lower lip stick out, a telltale sign that she was about to pout to try and get her way, and was unable to keep a straight face. "You know how your mother is always bragging about how pretty and bright your hair is?"

Anyu lifted her chin with the pleased smile of a well praised child. "Yes!"

"Well, we don't want people to see it right now." She settled the hood over Anyu's head. "It's so bright that it'll draw lots of attention, and we don't want a bunch of rough sailors noticing us." Anyu's white hair had a habit of catching and reflecting the sun like light shimmering on water; there would be no way for them to remain unnoticed.

"Oh." Anyu thought for a moment. "But, when we see the Dalish I can take it off, right?"

"Yes."

"Okay, then." She looked around the docks, her nose crinkling up in disgust. "The Dalish don't live here, do they?"

"No, I think they live north of Kirkwall. That's why Zevran told us to wait here for a few minutes; he's trying to find out exactly where they are."

"Good," Anyu said flatly. "I don't think I want to stay here. It's too loud."

Kali grinned. "I agree."

In the end, they didn't have to wait too long. After about half an hour, Zevran came back with their packs slung over his shoulder—he had insisted on carrying them since Kali was carrying Anyu—and a small bag in his hand.

Anyu immediately perked up when she saw him. "There you are, Uncle Zev! Did you find out where the Dalish are?" Her lower lip stuck out. "Because I want to leave this place! The people are very mean, and one of them even called Aunt Kali a knife-ear!" She said the last part in a scandalized whisper.

Zevran looked as though he wanted to laugh at Anyu's shocked expression, but instead he turned to Kali with a scowl. "We have not been in Kirkwall a full hour and already you are called a knife-ear?"

Kali shrugged as best she could, which proved to be difficult with a six-year-old resting against her shoulder. "It doesn't matter; it was just weird, that's all. I haven't heard that term in years." She shifted the topic to a more important matter. "Did you find out where the Dalish are camped?"

Zevran nodded. "I have. Strangely, it seems as though they have set up their camp quite close to Kirkwall. The people in the city are well aware of their presence."

Kali frowned at his words. "That doesn't sound right. Why would the Dalish camp so close to such a large city? I thought they tried to stay in places where it was difficult for humans to find them."

"As did I," Zevran said. "But, the people seem quite certain." He held up the small bag. "I bought some food for our journey; if we leave now, it should only take us a few hours to reach the Dalish camp. I'd rather we left as soon as possible."

"Is something wrong?" Kali asked, alerted by the serious tone of his voice. "I thought we were going to rest for a night and search for the Dalish in the morning?"

"I'm tired," Anyu volunteered.

Zevran lightly tapped Anyu on the nose. "I know, da'mi, and I am sorry for it, but we must leave as soon as we can." He glanced at Kali. "It seems that the Qunari are still here."

"They are?" Kali was surprised. Even in Ferelden, they had heard about the Qunari ship that had crashed on the coast of Kirkwall, and how they had been given a place to stay while they built a new ship. But, that had been about three years ago. Alistair and Kira had been a bit apprehensive when they had heard the news; Ferelden still bore the scars of the Orlesian invasion and was always cautious of others trying to invade. To hear Kira explain it, the Qunari could take over almost any country they wanted and, for a time, Ferelden had been alert, wondering if the Qunari were planning to first take over Kirkwall and, from there, the rest of Thedas.

They hadn't heard anything about the Qunari for quite some time and, like most people, Kali had assumed that they had moved on. "Why haven't they left yet?" She lowered her voice. "Are they planning to take over Kirkwall?"

"Alas, I did not think to ask them," Zevran said with a wry smile, though it soon faded. "But, the locals seem to think so. Tensions are high between the people and the Qunari, and I'd prefer to get away from the city as soon as we can." He stepped forward and put his lips against Kali's ear, whispering so that Anyu couldn't hear, "And, from what I have gathered, it seems that the rumors about Kirkwall's treatment of mages are true."

Kali nodded. She had known that plenty of mages had tried to escape the Kirkwall Circle, preferring instead to flee to Ferelden, where the attitude toward magic was much more lenient—especially with a mage in charge of the Wardens—but she hadn't really thought it would be an issue. However, if Zevran, after only a short time gathering information in the city, had been able to confirm that the rumors were true, it was best to leave. The last thing they needed was for some templar to discover Anyu's magic.

So, even though they were tired from the long ship ride from Gwaren to Kirkwall, the three of them set out for the Vinmark Mountains. With Anyu happily nibbling on the bread Zevran had bought, they managed to slip through the streets of Kirkwall undetected. Kali was extremely grateful that Zevran had such a good sense of direction; without him, she would have gotten lost after the first turn. Although, in her defense, these streets were extremely confusing. Between the alleys that looked the same and the people crowded everywhere—making it hard to see where they were going—Kali couldn't understand how anyone found their way around this complicated city.

Once they managed to actually get through the city, however, it was much more difficult to find their way. There were a few different paths that led around the mountain, but to Kali's eyes they all looked the same. More than once, they ended up walking down a path they felt certain would take them where they needed to go, only to find that they had taken a wrong turn and somehow wound up on a coast, near a cave, or—at one horrible point—a clearing covered with so many bones that Kali almost feared they had walked right into the abyss.

"What kind of place is this?" she asked, trying to shield Anyu's eyes so that the little girl wouldn't see all of the skulls littered around the area.

"I would prefer not to find out," Zevran said, his face darkening as he looked around. "Kirkwall was once known for its slave trade; perhaps we are seeing remnants of how they rid themselves of the ones who failed to meet their standards."

"What is it?" Anyu asked, trying to wiggle her face out of Kali's hands.

"Nothing," Kali said. She looked at Zevran. "I'm getting more and more curious as to why the Dalish would want to camp anywhere near here. You'd think they wouldn't want to stay by a city that has such a history."

Zevran shrugged. "I am beyond attempting to understand the Dalish."

They left the area and, after a few more hours of walking—during which time Kali felt like her arms were going to fall off from Anyu's pleas to be picked up and carried—they finally found a path that neither of them recognized. After a few minutes of walking down it, Kali heard a sharp whistling sound pierce through the air. Zevran pulled out his daggers and Kali dove to the ground, using her body as a shield for Anyu, just before an arrow stabbed a fallen trunk behind them.

"I think we have finally found them," Zevran said with a laugh. "It is good to know that their tempers are still as sweet as ever."

Kali climbed up to her knees, but Anyu grabbed her shirt with a frightened look. "What was that? Are they trying to hurt us?"

Kali smiled down at the little girl. She stood up and lifted Anyu back into her arms, trying to make her feel secure. "The Dalish are very protective of their camp, sweetie. That was only to warn us that they were here, but they're not going to attack us. I promise."

Right on cue, two Dalish elves stepped out from the shadows of the rocks, holding bows and arrows pointed directly at them. Kali could see that they were both men, but with their hoods pushed up over their heads she wasn't able to recognize either of them.

"Las sahlin'ma?" one of the men asked sharply. "Dirth ar'en las'ma nuvenin ar'en din'ma!"

Kali could understand quite a lot of the Dalish language, thanks to Ashara's teachings, but he was speaking too fast for her to make out the words. She handed Anyu over to Zevran and took a step forward, holding her hands up in a gesture of friendship. "Ar falon. My name is Kali Tabris." She pushed her cloak off her left shoulder so that the two men could clearly see the vallaslin to Sylaise tattooed on her skin. "I was accepted into your Clan six years ago, after the Blight." She gestured to Zevran and Anyu. "This is Zevran Arainai, a friend of your Clan, and Anyu, the daughter of Ashara and Tamlen."

"Kali?" the second man repeated. He lowered his bow and pushed back his hood; Kali recognized Fenarel, Tamlen's fellow hunter. He turned and made a gesture with his hand. "Luan, lower your bow. Kali is our sister." The other complied, and Fenarel turned back to Kali. "Ar abelas, lethallan. The Clan has been on edge since Merrill left. We have shemlen stumbling into our Clan at all hours of the day, searching for secret Dalish crafts. It's gotten so bad that Chief Tasar thought it best to have some of the hunters keeping watch to warn them away."

"Why are you camping so close to such a large city then?" Kali asked. "You wouldn't have humans finding your Clan if you moved."

"You'll have to ask the Keeper," Luan said in a sour tone, "since she's the one who refuses to let us move. We've stayed in this spot for five years; it's time for us to find another place. But, she keeps insisting that she has business here although she won't tell us what it is."

"Not now, Luan," Fenarel reprimanded.

But, Luan gave no sign that he had heard Fenarel. "If the Keeper wanted to stay in oneplace for years, there's a perfectly good spot in the Brecilian Forest where two other Clans live in peace! That land was granted to the Dalish because of what Ashara and Tamlen—two of our Clan—did for the shemlen. I don't understand why we couldn't stay in Ferelden."

Fenarel groaned in exasperation but didn't seem inclined to say anything more. Kali and Zevran exchanged a glance; by the look on Fenarel's face, it would seem that Luan's complaints were a common topic.

The awkward tension was broken by Anyu, who was peering at the two Dalish inquisitively, her earlier fear forgotten. "Uncle Zev, can I get down now?"

The assassin chuckled. "Of course."

He set the little girl down; as soon as her feet touched the ground she instantly pushed back her hood and studied Fenarel and Luan with a bright, curious gaze, though she reached up to grasp tightly to Kali's hand.

Fenarel got down on one knee, smiling kindly at the little girl. "So, you're Tamlen's daughter?" Anyu nodded shyly. "The last time I saw you, you were just a baby. Your Havhen and I are brothers; did he tell you that?"

Anyu shook her head. "He told me that everyone in the Clan are his brothers and sisters."

Fenarel laughed. "Well, yes, that's true. But, he lived with my family when we were da'len. I know lots of embarrassing stories about him; I'll have to tell you some of them." He tossed Anyu a wink and stood up, turning his attention to Kali and Zevran. "The Keeper will want to see you. Come on, our camp isn't that far from here."

He was right; the Dalish camp was only about a mile away from where they had been, and Kali was extremely grateful for it. She was far more tired than she wanted to admit and, by the time they finally reached the Clan, she was starting to daydream of a hot meal and a comfortable bed.

As they entered the camp, however, and she looked around, her dreams of a nice place to sleep were driven from her mind. The last time she had seen Ashara's Clan, they had been camped in a snug area of the Brecilian Forest, with plenty of trees and brush for cover. The forest had been so thick that a human could have walked within feet of the camp without ever knowing it was there.

This time, however, their aravels were set up in a small open spot nestled between two hills. It was a little clearing that offered almost no cover or protection at all. Kali could sense how anxious the Dalish were to be in such a place, and she didn't blame them. No wonder they had humans stumbling into their camp! Anyone could find them here.

Keeper Marethari, as was her usual habit, was seated before the fire in the center of the camp. She turned as they approached and stood up with a serene smile on her face, as if she wasn't in the least bit surprised to see Kali and Zevran.

Luan drifted off towards the rest of the hunters as soon as they entered the camp, but Fenarel led them right up to Marethari's fire. "Keeper, Kali and Zevran have come to visit the Clan with Ashara and Tamlen's daughter, Anyu." Kali noticed that his words seemed a bit stiff and formal. She guessed that despite what he had said to Luan, Fenarel was having problems with Marethari as well.

"Ma serannas, Fenarel," Marethari said in her usual calm manner. "You may inform Chief Tasar."

"Ma nuvenin, Keeper," Fenarel said. With a polite nod to Kali and Zevran, he walked off after Luan.

Marethari watched him leave before turning her kind gaze to Kali, Zevran, and Anyu. "It is good to see you. I have been waiting for your arrival."

"Who told you we were coming?" Kali asked. Then, a thought hit her. "If you knew to expect us, why didn't you tell Fenarel and the others to look out for us?"

"I heard it on the wind," the Keeper replied vaguely. "But, I did not know when you would arrive." She smiled down at Anyu, who continued to clutch tightly onto Kali's hand. "I am pleased to meet you, da'len. You have the look of your grandfather, but I can see your parents in you as well." Anyu took a step closer to Kali, seemingly unsure of how to respond, and Marethari turned her attention back to Kali and Zevran. "For now, though, I am sure that you are all tired from your journey. You may use Merrill's aravel for the duration of your visit. Do either of you know how long that might be?"

Kali and Zevran exchanged a look. "No, we don't," Kali admitted carefully. "We weren't told how long we'd have to stay here, just that we needed to come." She wasn't quite sure how much she wanted to tell Marethari about Sylaise visiting her and Ashara. What if the Creators didn't want anyone else to know?

"Well, for now," Zevran interrupted cheerfully, "let us get something to eat and rest for a bit." He knelt down next to Anyu and lightly tapped her on the nose, though Kali knew he was just putting on an act. She could read his moods and knew when something was bothering him, but she also knew that he would never admit it in front of Anyu or the other Dalish. She'd have to wait until they were alone to ask him. "That stale bread was probably not enough to make you full, no?" he continued.

"No, it wasn't," Anyu said.

"There is plenty of food for you," Marethari said calmly. "I am sure the Clan is eager to see their sister again, and to meet their new daughter. We shall speak more this evening." She turned back to the fire, clearly indicating that their meeting was over.

Kali was more than a little surprised by Marethari's words; this wasn't the warm, familiar Keeper she remembered. The last time they had met, Marethari had been kind and open. But, now... although her words and tone were as friendly as ever, Kali couldn't help but think she seemed a little detached.

Well, there was nothing for her to do about it now. Besides, Anyu was probably starving and Kali was longing for a hot meal herself. She saw Fenarel with a group of hunters by one of the fires, waving for her and Zevran to come join them, and grinned down at Anyu. "Come on, sweetie," she said, taking care to keep her voice cheerful. "Let's go meet everyone and get something to eat."

Maybe, after a nice meal and a restful sleep, she could talk some more with the Keeper and figure out why she seemed so different. Something about Marethari seemed wrong, but for the life of her she couldn't put her finger on what it was.

oOo

Ashara would have thought that, since she had grown up with the nomadic Dalish Clans, she would have had an easy time hiking such a long distance. She had expected to be able to walk all day without much of a problem. But, it had been roughly six years since she had walked so much for such a long time and it seemed she had lost some of her endurance.

It was evening, and she, Tamlen, and Gavan had decided to set up camp for the night and catch some rest. Ashara sat down near the fire, pulled off one of her boots, and started rubbing at the sore spot on her heel, wincing as the pressure made it hurt worse. Perhaps she should just heal the spot to make it stop aching; otherwise, she was going to have an even worse time in the morning. However, one of the things she had noticed was how easily she and Tamlen had slipped back into the normal habits of the Dalish, falling into the comfortable rhythm of their previous life as easily as if they had never given it up.

Clan law dictated that Elvhenan mages were forbidden from using magic on everyday things such as the normal aches and pains that came from their difficult life. Mages were supposed to preserve their energy in case the Clan came under attack, or someone got seriously hurt. It was the rule of the Dalish that mages only used their magic when training, teaching, or helping in some important task. Like most mages, Ashara had gotten in trouble as a child for using her magic when she hadn't been supposed to, but it was almost something of a comfort for her to slip into the familiar rules of her people.

Tamlen looked up from his pile of willow sticks—sticks he was fashioning into arrows—and saw her rubbing her feet. "Having trouble, vulpasha?" he asked with a hint of laughter in his voice. "Has living with the shemlen made you soft?"

Ashara narrowed her eyes. "In case you had forgotten, some of us had duties to the Grey Wardens that kept us busy all day. We couldn't all afford to run off on hunting trips for days at a time."

Tamlen laughed at that, and Ashara was unable to keep the feigned angry look on her face. When they had lived in Vigil's Keep, Tamlen and Zevran had had a habit of disappearing for a couple days every few months to go hunting, occasionally taking some of the Wardens—usually Carver and Keiran—with them. They'd usually return with triumphant smiles and their packs full of birds; though, at one point they had brought back a dead cow that Ashara suspected they had stolen from one of the Amaranthine farmers. There was no real reason for them to do it—Vigil's Keep certainly didn't have a problem keeping food on the table—but Gwen had often joked that the men needed their male bonding time.

Thinking of Vigil's Keep, the cheerful smile slipped from Ashara's face. She let out a sigh and set her elbows on her knees, resting her chin in her palms. "I wonder how they're doing. Do you think they're worried about us?"

Tamlen, never one to dance around a subject, nodded solemnly. "I'm sure they are."

Ashara let out a sound somewhere between an irritated tut and a chuckle. "You think that maybe you could lie and tell me that everything is okay? That the Wardens are fine; that they trust us and decided to carry on with their duties without trying to search for us?"

"Except you'd know it wasn't true," Tamlen pointed out, never taking his eyes off the willow stick in his hands. "If the Wardens were willing to give up so easily on their previous Commander and Second, then they wouldn't be the men and women you trained them to be."

"That's the thing about loyalty," Gavan suddenly said from his spot by the fire. "It's usually an admirable thing, but in some rare cases it can be extremely problematic." He nodded his head and looked around, as if he had made some wise observation that Ashara and Tamlen should appreciate.

Ashara rolled her eyes. "How much ale have you had?" Gavan had returned to the fire barely an hour ago with his arms full of jugs of ale and tankards for each of them. She and Tamlen hadn't bothered to ask where he'd got it; it seemed that, with Gavan, it was easier to just assume he stole it.

"Enough to make me cheerful; not enough to make me stupid," he replied easily.

Tamlen picked up one of his newly peeled willow sticks and held it up straight in front of him, closing one eye to ensure that it was perfectly straight, before setting it in a new pile. He went through his whole pile, checking each one to make sure it was straight, occasionally adjusting one if he thought it bent a little, then grabbed his crafting knife and began fashioning nooks in each wand.

"Well," he said after a few minutes of silence, "I suppose now's as good a time as any to ask what you know about the Seekers, Gavan. You said before that you didn't know anything but, as I'm sure you'll understand, no one believes you."

Gavan took another drink of his ale, suddenly looking grim. "That may be true, but I'm not so drunk that I'm willing to give away information for nothing."

Ashara leaned forward, scowling. "Now's not the time to be holding out for money, Gavan. You know why we need this information. We abandoned our Wardens and are willing to walk into Orlais—a country that has a lot of hate for our people, I might add—based on a confusing note from a friend we haven't seen in almost seven years. We need to know what we might be facing."

Gavan was quiet for a moment, and then let out a resigned sigh. "Eh, I guess you're right. Leliana trusts you both, so I see no reason why I shouldn't say anything."

He took another drink. "How much have you heard about the Seekers?"

"Not much," Ashara admitted. "I know that they work for the Chantry, and Kira mentioned that they sometimes do the dirty work for the templars." She glanced over at Tamlen. "When you first mentioned that the Seekers were asking questions about us, we assumed it was because the Chantry is angry with us for conscripting so many mages into the Wardens."

Gavan shook his head. "I doubt the Seekers care about mages joining the Wardens. And even if they did, they'd rely on the templars to handle that kind of thing. No, the Seekers are in charge of keeping the balance of power for the Chantry. They're basically an elite order of templars who work in secret to find and neutralize any threat to the Chantry."

"I don't understand, then," Ashara said. "If they only care about threats to the Chantry, why would they worry about us? How could we be considered a threat?"

Tamlen nodded. "We're only a small group of Wardens in Ferelden, and most of the people who live in Vigil's Keep are Andrastrian."

"Well, that's where things start to get a little fuzzy," Gavan said. "The Seekers don't usually care about the Wardens, although it's well known that, on the whole, the Chantry resents the fact that the Grey Wardens are outside their jurisdiction."

He frowned. "Of course, that leads to even more questions. If the Seekers ever did decide to challenge the Wardens for some reason, why would they bother with you? It's common knowledge that you don't answer to the Wardens of Weisshaupt, so if challenging the Wardens is their goal, it seems more likely that they'd try to establish peace with you. Instead, it seems as though they're treating you as a possible enemy."

"Then, you have no idea what they want?" Ashara asked.

"Look, all I know is what Leliana said before she sent me to Ferelden with her letter," Gavan said. "And she didn't say much, because she was worried someone was listening. The Seekers are such a secretive group that it's almost impossible to figure out what they're doing. All Leliana would say was that she had been questioned about the Blight."

Ashara frowned, not comprehending. "Why would they care about the Blight? It was ended in less than a year and didn't affect anyone outside of Ferelden."

Gavan shrugged. "Maybe that's what they're concerned about. Even I know that every other Blight has lasted at least ten years, yet you and your Wardens managed to kill the Archdemon in less than one."

Tamlen scoffed. "So, you're telling us that they're worried because we saved our country before the Blight could destroy anything?" His voice was heavy with sarcasm.

"I'm only stating one possibility," the mercenary said. "I don't know anything for sure. But, if you know how the Chantry thinks then it isn't hard to believe." He turned to look at Ashara. "You and Kali are the Heroes of Ferelden, the two who are credited with ending the Blight. Kali's the one who actually held the blade that killed the Archdemon. You, Ashara, are a Dalish mage who has never seen the inside of the Tower, and have never been watched by the templars. And, it's common knowledge that Kali was accepted into your Dalish Clan."

He drained the last of his ale before continuing. "Think about it for a moment. Two Dalish elves fought the Blight and managed to end it in less than a year, something no other Warden has ever done. Knowing that the both of you belong to a race of elves that refuses to worship the Maker and has actually fought against the Chantry, is it so strange to think that the Seekers might start to wonder how, exactly, you ended the Blight in such a short time?"

Gavan saw the solemn expressions on Ashara and Tamlen, and shrugged. "Keep in mind that I'm only guessing. It just seems, to me, to be the most logical reason for the Seekers to ask questions about you."

"But we didn't do anything!" Ashara protested. "We spent the whole time running around Ferelden begging for allies to help us because Loghain turned the chevaliers away at the border. Even the Orlesian Wardens turned their backs on us after we pleaded for help!"

"Yes, I remember," Gavan said. "You hired me to take the message to Warden-Commander Mikhail."

"Then, why would the Seekers wonder how we ended the Blight?" Tamlen asked. "We were hardly quiet about our task."

"Maybe I'm wrong." Gavan shook his head. "I'm only guessing. Maybe they're asking about something else."

But, as the two men continued on with their speculation, Ashara felt a distinct knot of discomfort settle in the pit of her stomach. She thought that, while it was true that they had gathered an army in a normal fashion and united the country together to fight the Archdemon, Tamlen had left out a very important detail.

A Grey Warden was supposed to die when he or she killed the Archdemon. But, before the final battle, Morrigan had offered a way to keep all of them alive, by becoming pregnant with a child that possessed the soul of Urthemiel. She hadn't given Ashara any details other than that the Chantry would call the ritual blood magic, and that the child would be fathered by Alistair.

Back at Vigil's Keep, before they had decided to leave, they had discussed the possibility of the Chantry uncovering knowledge of the ritual, but they had quickly brushed the idea off, believing that they would have heard something about that. Now, however, Ashara wasn't so sure.

What if the Seekers had discovered some of the Warden secrets? What if they knew that a Warden was supposed to die when they killed an Archdemon? The First Warden had stopped asking questions about it after Ashara had made it clear that she didn't answer to him, but what if he'd taken offense and informed the Seekers? Would the First Warden reveal such important secrets to spite the Fereldan Wardens?

In exchange for the chance to live, Ashara had made a promise to never search for Morrigan, and so far she had kept to that promise. She had asked the Dalish to alert her if Morrigan crossed their paths, but she had never intentionally searched for the witch. No one had heard from Morrigan since she had disappeared after the Archdemon had been killed. Ashara had no idea where she was or what she was doing. All she knew was that Morrigan's child would be only a little younger than Anyu.

What if the Seekers had caught her? Morrigan was a clever woman, able to charm or manipulate her way out of almost any situation, but what if her luck had run out? Ashara bit her thumbnail anxiously. She tried to tell herself that if Morrigan had been captured by the Chantry, she would have heard about it. There was no reason to think that the Seekers had discovered knowledge about the child with the soul of an Archdemon.

She grit her teeth and stared at the fire. She was just worrying over nothing. The warnings from Sylaise and Andruil had put her on edge, and now she was starting to get paranoid.

Everything was going to be fine.

Translations:
da'mi - little blade
Las sahlin'ma? - Who are you?
Dirth ar'en las'ma nuvenin ar'en din'ma! - Tell us what you want before we kill you!
Ar falon - I'm a friend
vallaslin - lit: blood writing; the tattoos the Dalish get to mark their entry into adulthood; each tattoo represents a different Creator
Ar abelas - I'm sorry
lethallan - friend/kinsman; used for female
Havhen - Father
da'len - child/children
ma serannas - thank you
ma nuvenin - as you wish

A/N: Please excuse the minor rant, but the Dalish in DA2 really irritate me. I understand why Marethari keeps the Clan in one place for nearly ten years, although I think it's stupid of her to put the entire Clan's welfare at risk for one person. The DA wiki states that if a Keeper and First die, then the Clan will end up dying out as well; she already lost Merrill, so you'd think she'd want to protect herself to make sure that the Clan feels secure. Obviously, she does the opposite of that. Anyway, that aside, the camp for the Clan has almost zero protection. In Origins, the Dalish are well hidden in the forest, keeping away from human eyes, but in DA2 Paivel mentions that they have humans walking right through their camp like it's nothing. It doesn't make much sense to me.

Okay, rant aside, I apologize for the delay in update. Life got a little hectic for a while, but hopefully things will stay calm for a time so that I can try to get caught up on this and Blood Song. I also owe some of you reviews; I'm hoping to get caught up by the end of this week. Thank you to everyone reading, reviewing, and sticking with this story! It really means a lot.

Special thanks and hugs to Suilven, for going over this with her ridiculously awesome beta stick, and for smoothing out some of the rough spots.