Nathaniel found himself glancing at her again.
Then he turned his gaze back to watching the others, irritated with himself. No use taunting yourself...
With the Knotwood Hills far behind them, the open road before them and a blazing sun it was a beautiful day, one for freeing you of any worries and putting an ease into your steps.
Yet the group making their way towards the distant peak of Vigil's Keep far in the horizon was muted, all for different reasons.
Sigrun was ahead, the dwarf walking with brisk steps as she craned her neck left and right, wide eyes staring in wonder at the greenery around her, her behaviour nearly childish as she grinned at a bee buzzing past her. Though despite the cheery picture of the near prancing dwarf Nathaniel dryly noted that not once did the dwarf look up.
It had been easy for Lynn to convince the dwarf of joining the Wardens. The legion of the dead were already sworn to die fighting darkspawn after all, and with her other companions dead Sigrun hadn't protested too much at the idea of joining them. How anyone could cheerfully shrug and say that 'dying is dying' was beyond Nathaniel however.
Still, to leave the tunnels had been difficult for her. Her previous curiosity about what had been above ground had faded away with the first rays of daylight, the dwarf visibly paling as she inched her way towards the exit, as if unwilling to leave the darkspawn-infested hole of hers in fear of the strange new light. But at the end she had left the tunnel, running out, growling as if challenging the outside to throw its worst at it.
The fear had quickly turned to delight however, save the one time she had glanced up at the sky...she had nearly heaved at the sight, Nathaniel was sure of it. To his surprise Lynn had been the one to ask the dwarf if she was okay, an unreadable look in her eyes, if he hadn't known better Nathaniel would have sworn the woman had been looking sadly nostalgic.
Lynn...Nathaniel shifted his focus
Behind the dwarf Lynn was marching, her cleaned armour glowing in silver and gold. Despite the warmth of the sun beating down on them she still had her helmet on, even the visor remained closed, nearly completely hiding her amber eyes as they coldly watched a world ripe with life, as if finding something insulting with it.
With her sword and axe sheathed she still held two items in her hands, something she hadn't let go of since they had left the Knotwood Hills. One was the length of her forearm, the other merely a hand long...two of the pieces of Anders' staff. Even now the pieces looked brittle in the woman's hands, the staff having been damaged by magical frost and then crushed under the feet of many darkspawn.
Nathaniel held his own piece in his right hand, it's texture rough against his hands, the wood feeling as if it had been scorched, despite the opposite having happened to it. He wasn't sure why the Commander had given him a piece...perhaps the look in his eyes as he watched her pick the pieces that were still intact up? Whatever the reason he had vowed to keep the piece, as a reminder of what he had been given, though it was unlikely he would ever forget.
Again his gaze flickered to the other elf, finding her shooting him a shy glance...
Both looked away.
Velanna had not taken the news of Anders death all that well. Nathaniel could understand her, she had scorned the other mage, clearly disliked him...yet he had saved her life by giving his own, it had to be eating away at her. Perhaps she's thinking of those merchants she killed as well? Is she thinking she's committed a crime against not only Anders, but against humans? That would hurt her pride...
Nathaniel held his tongue though, not daring to ask.
While Anders death had muted the woman Nathaniel knew he could bring her out of it...yet he found it impossible to even start a conversation for some reason, as if a great void had opened up between them.
Velanna had woken up while he was still carrying her, which had created a strange reaction from her. First she had nearly smiled, still half asleep and perhaps thinking he was some elf from her clan, then she had paled, realizing it was him...and shrieked at him, or rather 'the shem', to let her go.
He had of course let her down, watching her face flush with embarrassment even as he found himself looking away. She hadn't meant it, he knew it, it had just been a shock for her, perhaps even furthered by the magic-induced exhaustion she still suffered from. Yet it reminded him of their differences...of their old history, him a former human noble, her a former keeper, natural enemies. Guess we have the whole 'outcast' thing in common then...a fresh beginning without any centuries of conflict and all that romantic bull. He nearly snorted at the thought, his shoulders sloping.
And then there were Anders final words... 'Love her'...had to say that didn't you? Nathaniel found himself smiling faintly at the thought, wondering if Anders had said it as a last practical joke at Nathaniel's expense, if so it was working...and it would be the first which actually brought a smile to Nathaniel's lips, however fading it might be. No, it hadn't been a joke. The smile died, it had been a command...and Nathaniel had no idea how to obey it.
Do I even want to?
Nathaniel sighed, feeling a squeezing sensation around his chest. I...yes. He nearly shrugged, realising he had already known the answer. Yet how did one do that? Nathaniel knew he wasn't bad-looking, he had had his share of tousles with the opposite sex while growing up, while the Howe's were still respected he had been well aware that he was seen as quite a catch among the nobles of Ferelden.
But those women had always...lacked something...vitality perhaps. They were stiff and dull, simple to read, easy to please. What did Nathaniel care for a woman that could recite poems by heart and who danced perfectly? Such things were all fine and well...but there was no passion in it, just knowledge...and Nathaniel had long ago realised that he wanted more then a woman with good breeding. He hadn't known what he wanted...but he had realised what he didn't want, a start it had seemed...
In his younger days he had already been calm and calculating, it had been easy to charm the noblewomen back then, it was a simple matter of finding out their interests and then working with it. He had grown bored with such games ages ago however...there was no excitement in it, frankly it was beneath him and dishonourable to the women in question...so he had stopped.
And now it was different, he felt...he frowned...nervous? That can't be right...
He found himself glancing at Velanna again.
Perhaps I should...try talking to her? But how? Assure her I realised she meant nothing with the 'shem' comment? Would that just make her defensive? But at least we would be talking then...instead of merely these frustrating touches. Even as he thought the thought Velanna, obviously still weak, stumbled for the forty-third time...Nathaniel kept count...only to be saved from dropping onto the ground by Nathaniel's timely hand.
As always she instantly pulled back at the touch even as she shot him a slight nod of thanks...and as always Nathaniel felt as if the distance between them grew, as if his touch repelled her from him.
Nathaniel frowned. I...don't know what to say. I...there's nothing to argue about...is there? I...doubt arguing would help though...would it? Maker, where did my calm go? He rubbed his sweaty palms against her leather armour, frustrated with himself. This isn't like me...damn Anders! Should I try to initiate a discussion with someone else and hope Velanna is dragged into it? Would she see through such a ruse? Yes she would...she's too clever not to...but would she play along? Or maybe she would just ignore it...maybe I'm just fooling myself? Am I...fooling myself? After all I haven't known her for that long, though it feels like a lifetime, and it's not like she has really expressed any interest...has she? Then again who could tell with us two? Maybe she's just trying to be friendly?
Then Velanna cleared her throat.
Or maybe I'm thinking too much and not doing enough? She's braver then me, doesn't over-think things...perhaps-
"I...did not mean what I said back there." Her words stopped Nathaniel's useless torrent of thoughts in their tracks, she didn't have to specify what she was referring to, he knew.
"Of course not my lady, I apologise if me carrying you was..." Nathaniel found himself uncharacteristicly struggling for words...then settled for something somewhat neutral: "...uncomfortable."
"It wa-" The elf stopped herself short of whatever she was about to say, in the corner of his vision Nathaniel saw her hesitate, then look away. "I am grateful for the assistance."
"We are allies, of course I'll assist you." Nathaniel grimaced at his own words, regretting them as he remembered him and her having a similar discussion ages ago.
Judging by Velanna's silence she hadn't found the words all that encouraging.
"I mean...my pleasure." Nathaniel meekly said, grimacing at his own idiocy. Taking so long to say that...it's a wonder she hasn't insulted me for acting foolishly yet.
No insult was forthcoming though, only a low: "I...that is well then."
'Well then'? What does that mean? Should I ask? Or perhaps... "Are you...well? I..." He gestured for her bared legs that dragged slightly as she walked, then found himself looking away as a heat built up around his neck. "...cannot help but notice you are weary, d-do you require assistance?"
"I've received assistance forty-three times now..." Velanna muttered, a slight tone of uncertain amusement in her voice even as Nathaniel blinked. She counted them as well...? "...as to my weariness...I suppose there's no denying it?" A small chuckle, surprising Nathaniel, Velanna wasn't one for laughing, at least not so easily. "I...it will be fine if I get some time to myself, to meditate."
"Ah." Nathaniel smiled weakly, irritated with the twinge of disappointment he felt with that. Guess I'll spend the afternoon making new arrows...
"Yes..." Velanna muttered, with Nathaniel having given her nothing to answer to he wasn't surprised when she with a shrug looked away from him. Dammit...
The silence stretched, awkward and far too intrusive to Nathaniel's liking.
"You have been very...thoughtful as of late." Velanna spoke again, and the words made cold sweat pour down Nathaniel's back as he found his heart smash against the ribs in a futile rebellion, nearly tripping him. "More so then usual...is something amiss?"
"I..." Nathaniel bit his tongue, feeling a surge of panic as he tried to come up with a way out while at the same time he was trying to get himself to be honest. Damn Anders!
Velanna cocked her head to the side, watching him with a frown of mild confusion, obviously surprised that she had managed to stump him so easily.
Failure. "...was thinking of the Grey Warden taint." It was a half-truth, he had thought about it...a good while...but it was some time ago...and not at all what made him thoughtful at the moment. I'm a lousy coward...when did that happen?
"Oh? What of it?" Velanna asked, arching a curious eyebrow, if she was interested or merely wishing to keep him talking Nathaniel couldn't tell, his skills of observation as if blown away.
"We..." He nearly bit his tongue. "...Grey Wardens in general I mean...we cannot have children."
No answer but a shrug, Velanna apparently not caring too much for that loss, yet her eyes still watched him, attentive.
He shook his head and forced himself to remember the old thoughts, which shouldn't have been so difficult if it wasn't for that nagging feeling that he should be talking about something else, something more...constructive. "I...was a noble...and I am still a Howe." He grimaced, old anger flaring up at the words. "It is...frustrating to think that even if I manage to recover the honour lost to my family name there won't be anyone to carry it on to...the line will die with me. It makes the struggle less...motivated."
Silence, the elf still holding her head cocked, frowning as she struggled to comprehend his problem.
It doesn't matter much. Nathaniel looked away and sighed, the sadness of the old thoughts making itself reminded once more. It is done, I'll endure, not lay down and die.
"I have never cared for my family name." Velanna said, making Nathaniel frown as he glanced back at her, finding her looking straight ahead, smirking ever so slightly even as Nathaniel realised he had no idea what it was, she had never told anyone, perhaps not regarding it as important. "Why should I care of deeds done by others of my blood? I can understand parental pride perhaps...but for some ancestor? What do their deeds say of me?"
Nathaniel didn't answer, knowing that she was right, yet...
"But my own name...now that is important." Velanna still didn't look at him, her gaze distant, her smirk turning bitter. "I want to be remembered as a good and honourable woman, strong and who helped my people...is that strange?" Nathaniel could offer nothing but a shake of his head, though Velanna didn't seem to see it as she continued, still off in thoughts. "That is something to strive for, that is something worth suffering. Whatever those before me might have done I can be the one good person...or the one bad...either way I'll be remembered for who I am, not what my family has done or been." She turned to him, bright grey eyes surprisingly soft in the harsh sunlight, as was her tone: "Do you understand?"
"I..." Nathaniel blinked, surprised with Velanna's behaviour, even more so by how much sense she made...he knew she was intelligent, but it was usually tempered by her mood...which seemed blown away. "...yes..." He blinked, frowned. Nathaniel Howe is a good man despite his parentage...or simply Nathaniel is a good man...I...why not? Why carry a burden that isn't really there? He blinked, remembering that Velanna was still watching him, looking a bit amused at the moment. "...thank you...my lady." He swallowed, then remembered his manners and inclined his head in a slight bow.
The woman's shoulders visible tensed...then relaxed as she looked away, face distant as she answered: "Any time my..." She frowned, looking bemused as she pondered her words. "...ser?"
Nathaniel tossed his head back and laughed.
The two women ahead of him jumped at the unexpected sound, Sigrun smirking at him while Lynn shot him a frosty glare. Nathaniel couldn't help it though, his short explosion of a laugh turning into a calmer but tireless chuckle as he glanced at Velanna. The woman was looking at him with a face conflicted between a smile and a glare, as if she wasn't sure if he was laughing at her or if she should be amused by him suddenly expressing amusement so loudly. "I never thought to hear that word from your lips! Not in a thousand years!"
"Did you now?" Velanna glowered at him, making Nathaniel hesitate, only to smirk at his reaction before shrugging and looking away. "I can be polite...but only when another deserves it." She shot him a shy glance at that.
Nathaniel bowed his head at the words, not wishing to tarnish the moment with words. Thank you...
Lynn's scoff made them both blink and look away from one another and back ahead, finding themselves inside the outer courtyard.
Huh? When did we reach the castle? I didn't notice anything... He shook his head in irritation even as a smile stole its way to his lips. I'm getting sloppy...yes...that's it...he stole a glance at Velanna...sloppy...
Then he forced himself to pay attention.
The gate to the inner courtyard was closed, ten men stationed behind the gate, a dozen more with bows atop the wall, looking down at a strange assembly outside the gate.
The seneschal was there, the grey-haired old man looking awfully uncomfortable as he in full armour and greatsword faced off against a beast he didn't know how to handle; An angry group of ten villagers, four women and six men, all angrily raising their fists as they hollered at the seneschal, apparently having had a long argument with the man already and by now merely shouting curses at him.
Looking up the elderly man visibly sagged with relief at the sight of Lynn striding forth, if she was tired from their long march under the scorching sun it didn't show, as Nathaniel had learnt to expect by now. "What is this?" The elf's words were nearly barks from within her helmet, metallic and unreal. "Seneschal, report."
The man nodded eagerly even as the shouting of the villagers turned into heated glares sent in the direction of the Commander as they turned to face the new arrival. "I...yes Commander, these are representatives sent from surrounding villages wishing to-"
"We are tired of being bled white by you!" One of the women interrupted with a loud growl, glaring at Lynn only to deflect her eyes when the elf looked back at her, though her glare remained as the villagers continued, a hand coming up to brush a black tendril of her hair back, making Nathaniel aware of just how taut her skin sat around her skull, as if all excess flesh had been burnt away by the sun above. Starvation. "The taxes have doubled since you came here! Not only that but the lords now increase their taxes to give you men!"
"Yes!" A man echoed her sentiment with a raised fist, shaking it towards the Commander as he, though of solid built there was a certain...raggedness to him...more so then usual for a farmer. Life had been harsh on him. "And then your men show up and want food and lodgings! What food! We've given it all!"
Lynn remained impassive, her head cocked to the side as she watched the villagers continue, working themselves up once more.
A man, pale and red-haired, showing just how dirty he had become, and drawing attention to the dark rings under his eyes, continued: "And they're useless! There's darkspawn everywhere! They're trampling or fields! Burning our storages! Killing our cattle! And your men mostly end up running away and hiding in the nearest fort!"
Preserving their strength. Nathaniel dryly realized that the soldiers were doing what they were supposed to do, but it was an argument he knew wouldn't bite on farmers watching their land and livelihood turn to ash before them. And yes, he had noticed there were more darkspawn as of late, which of course led to more farms suffering their predations...it was sad but unavoidable.
But how to make that case? And would the Commander even bother? Nathaniel felt a cold lump form in the pit of his stomach at the thought as he watched the elf remain silent, regarding the villagers, thinking.
Another woman spoke up, this one dressed in a dress that had been torn and frayed at the edges, slightly stained with soot from some fire. Her tanned face looked haunted and weary, a red scar running down the side of her skull. "They burnt my house! Killed my cattle and nearly me too! All the while your men hid in their little fort! I demand something to be done! I demand you-!"
"You are brave to come here." Lynn interrupted, the calm tone coming from within her helmet strange compared to the anger slamming into her, strange and demanding silence. Still with her head cocked the elf continued: "You are the bravest of the villagers then? Those who stand up for the others?"
The scarred woman blinked and took a step back, confused. But a man, dark-skinned and broad-shouldered, stepped forth, glaring down at the armoured elf. "All support us, we are all sick of this." His voice rumbled, his gaze steady as he held Lynn's gaze, making Nathaniel blink. Impressive. "We speak for all, we their representatives."
"The bravest then." Lynn remarked, tone calm and calculating. "Coming here with demands, for your people." Nathaniel frowned at the words. What is she getting at?
"Damn right we are!" The scarred woman had recovered from her confusion and pushed past the dark-skinned man, a raised hand pointing a sharp finger at Lynn while her eyes narrowed. "We will not be bullied like the others! Do you hear me! Fereldens are a free people and will not be reduced to slavery because you-!"
Then she screamed, her arm coming off at the elbow in a fountain of blood.
The scream instantly came to a stop when Lynn spun with her swing though, the axe following the swing of her sword slicing though the neck of the woman and dropping her head at the feat of the dark-skinned villager as her twitching body collapsed."
"Y-you..." The man blinked, his face splattered with the blood of the woman as the other villagers took a frightened step back, he too stunned to do the same as he stared in horror at the Commander. '
Nathaniel couldn't help but feel the same shock, he and all others around staring at the scene as if it was a dream, neither soldiers on the walls, nor the seneschal or any of Lynn's companions moving, all of them statues as they tried to come to terms with the sudden explosion of violence.
"..k-killed her." The man shook his head sluggishly, lip quivering. "I...do-"
Then Lynn was pressing up against the man, her sword buried through his chest, making his eyes bulge as he gasped for a breath that would not come, large hands scrambling for Lynn's shoulders even as he sagged and dropped backwards into the dirt of the courtyard.
The villagers scattered, screaming.
And Nathaniel could only watch as Lynn followed. Despite her long march, despite her massive suit of armour, she moved quickly and efficiently...while the villagers were in shock, terror making their movement slow and confused, eyes blind to where they should go.
There a woman fell, her right leg separated by the hip.
There a man fell, ribs crushed by the weight of the armoured elf landing atop his back even as she buried her axe into his skull before leaping onwards.
There a terrified woman and man dropped on their knees in terror, raising their hands in surrender...only for both to loose their heads as the Commander simply rushed past them with swinging blades.
It was over within moments.
It had felt like a lifetime.
Staring in a mix of horror and fascination he watched Lynn sheathe her weapons, her amber eyes nearly glowing through her visor she coldly regarded the dead around her, as if they were nothing but sacks of meat to be weighed and measured.
Nathaniel felt sick, yet he couldn't look away. These...they were your people...I... There was no words for what he had seen, so sudden and...uncalled for.
"Seneschal Varel." The Commander spoke, her voice even as ever, uncaring, making Nathaniel grimace. Monster...
"C-commander?" The man stammered, raising his hand for a salute...then forgetting the hand mid-movement as he stared at the carnage. His hand dropped, along with his shoulders, making him look all the older all of a sudden.
The Commander didn't seem to notice, or rather, care. "Take the heads of these bodies to their respective villages, I want them on pikes in their squares, is that understood?"
Varel's eyes bulged, but he nodded in mute horror.
"Is that understood?" A slight hiss in the woman's tone, eyes behind the visor narrowing at the seneschal.
"Y-yes Commander." Varel managed, his voice hushed, as if fearing he'd disturb the dead around him.
"Good. Burn the rest of the bodies." Lynn marched towards the inner gate that was only now slowly opening, the guards behind it moving away even before she reached it, as if afraid of being near her. Probably are... "There won't be any more dissension from the farmers after this I'm sure, and if there is it'll be your head."
The seneschal visibly shook where he stood, staring at the dead around him, looking older by the moment, as if the sight of them was enough to do what time could not.
Nathaniel understood him, his own horror of seeing the dead still too fresh to truly comprehend. My people...
"Y-yes Commander..."
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Thanks to Abydos Jackson for her continued patience and support.