Disclaimer:The Dragon Age world doesn't belong to me.

Chapter 7 - Pit Roast

"What are you carrying a lute for? I thought we were to gather firewood."

"Yes, well. For it is my only weapon to rely on now, that's what it's for."

"Oh."

"I was wondering – you and her. I would have expected things to have changed between you. I was surprised this morning to discover 'twas not so."

"If you are trying to coax me in a debate over the nature of love and desire, I must warn you I am not in the proper mood, Morrigan."

" 'Tis strange to think, only a couple of months ago you would have harped endlessly over the subject. Some things have changed after all, it seems. But 'tis not that which I meant to ask. Pray tell, don't you feel the urge to place the blame on her for the loss of your eyes?"

"What? Maker, no! How can you even think of it as such?"

"I do not. But I think it's easy with a loss such important as yours to be swept in by bitterness and resentment. I most certainly would be, to some extent."

"Answer me this, Morrigan. You left us at Redcliffe, before the battle. Why are you back?"

"Let it suffice to say that the Warden needed me."

"Need may arouse for anyone at any given time. Surely there are enough people in need that you don't run to rescue. I know it not in your nature to say such things, so I shall name it for you – perhaps you are back because you care for her?"

"Perhaps."

"Well, I do too. Is this not reason enough for you and I to make peace with one another?"

"You misread me again, I'm afraid. 'Tis not for the sake of petty quarrel that I asked."

"No?"

"The veil near Highever has been torn one too many. You saw what happened to that poor woman, Clarice. Should you feel unnatural resentment or bloodlust, it may well be a consequence of the evil inflicted upon you in the near closeness of the place. If you notice something of the like, you can talk to me. I advise you would; I have knowledge that can be of help."

"I… don't know what to say. Thank you, I think…"

"Maybe nothing will happen. Maybe your mind is strong enough. But, better be warned."

"Kallian needn't trouble herself with this. Not unless something really happens."

"I agree. And – forgive me if my words have inflicted more pain. 'Twas of necessity."

"Huh… Morrigan – did you hear that? I think there are some horses nearby."

"Horses? What of them?"

"Maybe we should try and secure some – for fast travel and such. I get the feeling that we are going to do that quite a lot in the days to come."

"Secure – you mean to steal some horses? Now?"

"Come, it will be good fun…"

While Zevran went downstream to prepare the meat, Kallian busied herself with wood chopping. The withered tree that she'd fell whole needed to be parted in chips, sticks and fittingly sized logs, and, seeing that it was as tedious a matter as it could get when one had only a short, one-hand axe, more fit to stick snugly in skulls and bones and splinter them while drawn out than neatly cut through, Kallian was getting tired, and small beads of sweat begun to gather on her forehead. Con was digging again, she noticed absentmindedly while she wiped her brow. She meant to stop him at first, but then the dog's digging gave her an idea – maybe he'd have his share in preparing the evening's meal, for once. She let him dig.

By the time she had finished with the tree, Con had succeeded in making the hole so large and deep that only the curt tail that waggled in the grass gave up the presence of one very obstinate mabari that was throwing clunks of earth up in the air, making a mess all around the pit. Kallian stopped him eventually, and she eyed the sky uneasily – the sun was almost down, and Leliana, who had left with Morrigan during late morning, presumably to gather firewood, wasn't back yet. It was not exactly something to worry about, knowing Leliana's gift for getting distracted; perhaps Morrigan too had decided to gather some herbs. Still, the day was almost gone and Kallian would have preferred everyone in the camp for the evening, and accounted for. The order snapped short.

"Con, fetch Leliana."

Zevran was bringing the deer from the stream. He dispatched it on the grass and measured the result of Con's work suspiciously.

"What have you been up to, my dear Warden?"

"Well, some of us have been working all afternoon… How would you feel about a pit roast?"

"Pit roast? I don't think I've ever tasted such a dish. Care to enlighten me?"

Kallian laughed.

"It used to be an Alienage specialty of sorts – it had its advantages, as one couldn't tell that the neighbor was cooking, in order to invite themselves to a helping or two. I've noticed that the Dalish make it too – if not for the same reasons, then for leaving no traces, I suspect. We will need some boulders too, but everything else is quite set, as you see."

"Boulders? That is one odd ingredient. What for?"

Kallian was definitely in a light mood. She grinned mischievously as she answered.

"To stuff the deer, of course."

Once they got everything at the ready and the said boulders, which they retrieved from the stream, dried, Kallian begun to set the pit. First came one layer of rocks, which she thoroughly covered with the still burning embers picked from the hearth of their campfire; then, boulders again, and one thick coat of dried leaves, upon which she carefully placed the deer whole, evenly rubbed with herbs and stuffed with smaller rocks. Another layer of leaves followed, and the last of the boulders. On top of it all they build the fire anew, and it started to glitter merrily in the already waning light of the dusk.

"All fine and well," said Zevran, who seemed to finally grasp the feeling of the recipe, "but, isn't this going to take a while?"

"It is. But then again, Morrigan and Leliana are not back yet. Nor Con, for that matter."

Zevran nodded. It was wisest to keep themselves busy while they waited. Not that either of them thought that something had gotten amiss, still, worrying over things would have been as a wearisome business as ever.

"I've been meaning to show you something for a while now. Come."

Zevran reached for his backpack and started rummaging for something. Much to Kallian's surprise, he produced every bit of armor that she had ever given to him during their travels; he had kept them all. Lain in the grass in front of her were the Felon's Coat, Wade's superior Drakeskin Set and the Shadow of the Empire. A fine pair of Dalish gloves and the Silverhammer Trackmasters were there, too.

"Zevran, you kept all of them?"

Zevran had taken to the Ancient Elven pieces of armor that Kallian had given him piece by piece, as they had come by, and had proudly worn no other armor ever since.

"Yes. I figured, since both you and Leliana have lost your gear one way or another, you'd better pick some of these. It's good armor, after all – you should help yourselves."

All, except for Master Wade's, which had been especially built to suit Zevran, had been adjusted more than once. It'd be no feat to adjust them again. Kallian picked the Shadow of the Empire and probed it gently, as to get used to the feeling of it again. The Duster brigandine had served her well in those early days, and she had worn it with pride, seeing that it had been her first actual piece of armor, after the rags and scraps of leathers that she'd been used to. She'd bought it in the city of Orzamar, after the coronation of King Harrowmont, and it'd seemed awfully expensive back then, as she had never spent fifteen gold pieces on – pretty much anything – at once before; Leliana had talked her into buying it, though – "You deserve it," she'd said. It had been a little wide and quite on the short side, but Legnar had done an admirable job in fitting it, unexpectedly, rather, coming from one as such as him. She'd never given it to Zevran for wear, but rather as a spare when needed, and it had been never readjusted since. The steel plates were still in place, the old as well as the new, and the adjustments at the shoulders and waist still felt differently, less worn than the rest. Other than that, the coat still bore the signs of use and the marks of the High Dragon in Haven that nobody had strived to remove – the dragon that she, Leliana, Zevran and Wynne had fell before entering the Gauntlet. Kallian put the batterd old piece of armor down with a sigh.

"I always find it endearing to peruse bits of armor that I don't use any more. It's like meeting old friends, don't you agree?" Zevran said, softly.

"True enough." She could swear that her musings had not lasted but a moment, yet, when she looked around, the evening had turned a deeper shade of blue, and the fire was already throwing long, dancing shadows on their faces.

Then, a curt crackling noise startled them both, and Zevran shifted anxiously.

"Warden. I think somebody is coming."

"Yes. Quite a lot of them, if my ears don't deceive me." Kallian could well hear the bouncing of hooves on the ground, and her ears shifted to catch more of the faint, dim tune that accompanied it. A bark that obviously belonged to Con, who charged towards them only a moment after, followed, and within the minute the small clearing filled with more than a dozen horses –tall, slender coursers, and hoofing destriers sixteen hands tall trotted around the slender figure with a lute, who was the source of the otherworldly song and the reason of their current fascination, that was, as expected, Leliana. Morrigan was nowhere to be seen.

"What the…" Kallian was beyond bewilderment.

Leliana laughed playfully, and didn't give the lute rest as she spoke.

"We found some horses on the way. Since we didn't know which you'd prefer, we took them all…"

"Took them? You mean, stole them? Where from? And where's Morrigan?" Kallian was getting angry, now that the bafflement was wearing off. But Leliana seemed undisturbed.

"One question at a time, my dear. Yes, we stole them. They're from the Highever stables, I suspect. I doubt any other around here would possess such fine stock. Whereas Morrigan is distracting the stable master and she'll be a while, I think."

"I'm right here."

By the looks of it, Morrigan had just flown down from the nearest tree. Leliana frowned.

"You were supposed to keep them busy a little longer."

"Don't worry, I left the stable master and his men quite a long way from here. I doubt he'll be back to see his horses gone any time soon, and even less able to trace them here."

"Be as you say."

While Morrigan was shrugging off the leaves and grass from her robes, a black stallion parted from the trotting circle and started to graze at the hem of her skirt. Leliana seemed to take notice and giggled.

"Is it the stallion, Morrigan? It appears that the magic of love outdoes the lure of my song…"

Kallian laughed, Morrigan scoffed, and Zevran asked what it was that the ladies found so funny.

"We had a bit of a problem, Zevran. That is how we got delayed." Leliana could barely stiff her laughter, which delayed her retelling considerably, but she went on as soon as she managed to contain it. "See, Zev, Morrigan shifted into a mare in order to lure the stable master away, but she got cornered somehow and herded with the bunch. It took me a while to set her loose again. She got herself an admirer in the meantime, as you well can see…" More giggles followed, and more of Morrigan's scoffing.

"The blasted thing chased me all over the meadow. I had to bite him in order to demean his enthusiasm…"

"Not by much, I'd say. Biting can be … questionable, in regard to your intentions, my dear witch. Next time, you may wish to use a more explicit – rear punch, perhaps?"

"Zevran…" Kallian scolded him unconvincingly, between snickers. Leliana's words brought them both to more down-to-Thedas business, though.

"Well, choose your mounts; I won't be able to hold this much longer"

"I, for one, have never ridden a horse" Kallian said, while uneasily measuring a fine bay courser that seemed taller with every step that it took in her direction. Zevran hadn't, either, he admitted, but he shrugged and decided to take his chances nevertheless.

He turned to the shadows in the glimpse of an eye and jumped on the nearest horse from the rear. Naturally, such a deed frightened the courser out of its wits, and the poor beast darted forward in a tangle of hooves and limbs, neighing like being ridden by a horde of demons, instead of one lithe, more scared than itself, reckless elf. It crumbled over the nearest tent and collapsed, rider and all. Leliana turned her face in the direction of the noise, her brow knit in the effort of understanding, or perhaps worrying over Zevran's fate.

Kallian thoroughly relaxed at the sight of the blond assassin untangling himself from the ropes and shattered rods of the tent, as the maddened horse lost its trace through the trees, with the tent canvas still hung over its head. Certainly she could do better than that.

The lilting tune from Leliana's lute was slowing down and fading bit by bit. She had to choose fast. Near her, she spotted a huge roan destrier that seemed as friendly as any, in her eyes. As she stretched out a hand, the horse snorted, stirred and jerked its head back and up – it was definitely not a good start. More out of sheer stubbornness than for any other reason Kallian didn't withdraw her hand. She expected, somehow, that the curiosity would get the better of the beast, though – which it did, eventually, as the horse drew nearer and tentatively sniffed her hand.

"There you go" she whispered gently to the horse. "There you go."

The beast nudged at her hand, and she dared to stroke its muzzle. She closed in slowly, careful not to stir the huge war horse. It was a beautiful, proud mare that seemed happy enough with Kallian's attentions as to push her head forward and sniff further, at her cloak and hair. The horse's breath was warm on her cheek, and she stretched her hands further on the beast's neck, feeling the sheer power under the warm, taut skin. It felt good, for the beast even more so, seemingly, as it had got enough of sniffing and ensued to more thorough means of deepening the acquaintance.

"Aww, stop nibbling at my ear!"

Kallian shook her head to rid herself of the unwanted attention, and the mare seemed to take offense, as she withdrew her head slightly and snorted. Kallian laughed.

"I don't suppose that you'll allow me on your bare back, now that we're friends and all?"

She had to try it, though, and sooner, rather than later. The camp had been quiet for a while now, as Leliana had stopped playing at some point. Kalian took a breath.

Con barked and growled at once, and the horses started to fret. Kallian had been too wrapped in her dealings with the horse to take notice, but several men's voices could be heard clearly shouting their way through the forest. They were closing in to the small clearing, more than a dozen very angry men set to retrieve their horses. It didn't sit well with Kallian to resort to more bloodshed. The thoroughly learnt thieving ways from her youth in Denerim settled in, and she found she was very single-minded about this one.

"Grab a horse, and run."

Kallian herself crouched down to snare the closest piece of armor – she happened upon the Felon's Coat. It could have been any of the other pieces; she didn't mind much, just as well.

The horses were now fidgeting and snorting, jerking their heads while they picked up the pace, under a general wave of mood that quite accurately resembled panic. One switched its pace to a gallop and took off, losing its trace among the trees, and the others were beginning to bulk together, ready to follow suit.

Kallian found herself wordlessly gaping, as she saw Leliana grab the horse that brushed near her at the wither and sprint along it in matched pace, then jump up on its back, as the horse rose on its hind legs and neighed. Her blood froze, but she needn't have worried, as the horse fell to a sure, steady trot and turned curtly, as Leliana straightened herself and guided it to the stream. The utter grace of accomplished horsemanship clashed with the aloofness of the gaunt eye sockets directed her way, but not quite – a bit up and on the left side – melting in a picture of disquieting beauty, as Leliana grinned.

"Come, then."

Kallian followed and jumped on the back of her roan mare that had seemingly waited for her, forgetting all the hesitations of before. Leliana had crossed the stream with her courser. She'd made the horse jump a tad bit too early, likely in order to keep things on the safe side, but the animal had carried beautifully and glided over the stream without too much effort. Without knowing exactly if she was doing it right, Kallian tightened her knees when she and her mare reached the edge – for the horse's power and speed it seemed to be a mere trifle, and they too got safely on the other side. Kallian leaned over the neck of her mount, allowing her to gain speed, but more so to steady herself. Ahead, Leliana got in and out her view, sliding effortlessly throughout the trees, and Kallian couldn't take her eyes off the sight, which made her awfully conscious of her own clumsiness, but also filled her with warmth and pride at the display – there was her woman, that who rode like a banshee, that was her Leliana.

They might have been riding at full speed for maybe three or four leagues, when Leliana slowed the pace and turned her horse, trotting it around in circles while she waited for the others. First arrived Kallian, with Con shortly to follow, and after a while Zevran showed up, riding a fine, slender, yellow-eyed mare with dark coat, followed closely by the black stallion from before – without a rider.

"Zevran is riding a horse."Leliana noticed, with only a hint of mirth.

"Indeed I am. This lovely one here crossed my path, almost inviting me to mount, and bore with me all the way here. I still don't understand how it was that I didn't notice it before…" He patted the mare on the neck with genuine affection, suitable for one's favorite pet, but only for a moment did he manage to do so, as in the next he found himself un-horsed for the second time that night – or, rather, horse-less, and tangled in the grass with no other than Morrigan herself.

" 'Twas I, thou square-headed flaming idiot!"

Zevran appeared positively flustered.

"Oh. Sorry. I didn't mean to …ride you, as it were."

Morrigan rolled her eyes.

"Now you sound like Alistair." Seeing the disheveled state Zevran was in, she softened a little and added hastily – "You can have the stallion, though. I don't need a mount."

Hadn't Zevran been in such a star-stricken state, he might have retorted something along the lines of Morrigan's presumed preference to relate to the stallion rather as a mare than as a human. As things were, though, he was speechless. It had been a long night for him.

"So, here we are. No tents, no supplies, most of our spare pieces of good armor left behind" Kallian resumed. "But, we have horses."

"Let's not forget about that pit roast we left behind." Zevran chipped in.

"Are you mad at me?"Leliana asked tentatively.

"No. No, you tried for the best – and, Highever horses or not, with everything we left at camp, I think that they've been paid for fully. One question, though. Do you think they are following us still?"

"I don't think so. But we're not nearly far enough to be sure. What I think is that they'll rummage around the camp for a day or two, in case we want to go back there."

"Right. We should put some distance between them and us, then." Kallian hesitated. She was not sure if the timing was right –but, seeing that they had little choice but to ride all night, anyway, she could very well share.

"I've been thinking. We still have to find Wynne. We're sodding close to Aeonar, yet we have no clue of its whereabouts."

"Rummaging blindly through the woods in hope that we would stumble upon it eventually seems poor thinking to me."

"How about flying and sighting it from above?"

"It seems you've taken to rely too much on my abilities, elf. 'Tis too dangerous a task for each and every of us getting too near Aeonar without the proper preparations."

"That leaves us where we started."

"If I may – I think there are two places where we can start looking. First, the Circle of Magi. The other one is the Chantry in Denerim."

"We have to split, then."

The counsel lasted the better part of one watch. In the end they agreed that Zevran would go with Morrigan to the Circle, while Kallian and Leliana would head to Denerim. Kallian wanted to see her family, also, and Leliana said something about some letters that Anora had seized from her pack before the fight atop Fort Drakon. Right before dawn, they parted ways and headed each to their designated destination.

They had traveled quietly for a while, their horses trotting shoulder to shoulder at leisure, when Leliana broke the silence. In the crisp light of dawn, the sun still waiting to rise up threw reddish shadows on their faces.

"Kallian, what color is my horse?"

"It's a chestnut. Goes with your hair."

The gentle, slightly saddened little smile that flew on Leliana's lips, Kallian found, was gratifying enough. Their horses were pacing quietly, and their hands found each other of their own accord, their fingers entwined, as they walked further into the rising sun.