Chapter 12: An Old Friend
"So, who is this Leliana shem anyway?"
The rest of their party looked up from whatever it was they were doing. Royce and Bok had been playing chess. Kierhen had been sitting in the corner making arrows.
Sister Esme frowned and tilted her head.
Despite the fact that he believed that he did not care what anyone else thought. Findel blushed and lowered his head.
Three days had passed since their "capture" by the Grand Duke's men, though it was hard to say if they were still prisoners. The Orlesian had offered them the protection and hospitality of his house. He had even released his bard into Lyna's service; the girl had been running errands for the warden since yesterday.
The man had even offered to help them slip out of Orlais, before this Count of Light Shem could come up with a plan to stop them. Findel was not sure he believed the Grand Duke's tales about the man. Most shems were monsters in his eyes after all…
…The fact that one was more frightening than most did not come as a surprise.
Findel had never had any use for human tales, which is why he had asked his question in the first place.
Now…now…
His blush deepened.
They were all staring at him, which made even more blood rush into his cheeks and the tips of his pointed ears.
"What?" he said defensively, "The Keeper never told us much about the people that helped end the Blight."
Perhaps it was because of her calling, or maybe just her desire to not embarrass the boy further, Esme chose to answer his question.
"Leliana is a lay sister of the chantry," she informed the boy, "She left her home in the village of Lothering to help the wardens fight the Blight."
The boy sneered at that.
"I wasn't aware that one of the people needed the aid of the shemlen god."
Royce rolled his eyes at the boy's attitude.
"It never hurts to accept help lad," the warrior reminded him.
Findel still sneered.
Royce ignored him.
"According to the tales she is also an accomplished archer, one of the best in Thedas."
"She is also said to be quite beautiful," Bok chimed in, "I have heard it said that many hearts broke when those passing through the village of Lothering realized that the woman had bound herself to the chantry."
Findel sniffed at that.
"They would say that wouldn't they," he said, "Whoever it is they are."
Kierhen looked up from his work, a half finished arrow in hand.
"What is that supposed to mean?" the ranger asked.
The boy snorted.
"Shems need to wrap their heroes in the light of their Maker," he replied shaking his head.
He glared at sister Esme who sat across from him; she had been trying to teach him how to control his magic. The exercise that they were attempting was supposed to help him learn how to manipulate flame.
The lesson was not going well.
The boy rolled his eyes.
What did some sister know about magic anyway? She said that her brother had been a mage, but that didn't mean that she understood anything!
The chantry looked down its nose at anyone with magic, how could any of their number know what it was like?
How could they know anything?
Findel took it upon himself to enlighten them.
"Humans like to talk about their benevolent god," he growled, "Their kind and loving Maker, but where was the kindness when they broke their prophet's promise? Where was their compassion when our cities were raised, when they hunted or warriors to extinction, and dragged our people off to live as beggars in their cities?"
His cold and angry eyes fell on Esme.
She quailed under his angry look.
"Where was the Maker's vaunted compassion when your village decided to burn me alive?"
The words struck the sister like a lash.
She winced.
"I tried to stop them," she said.
Royce was on his feet in seconds.
"You ungrateful brat," he snarled.
The boy sneered.
"I'm not saying anything that the sister has not thought already, have I sister?"
Esme did not reply; she did not meet the boy's eyes.
"I'm only trying to help you," she murmured.
Findel's elven ears lay back like an angry cat.
"And all I'm doing is telling the truth," he hissed.
Behind them Kierhen chuckled.
Findel turned to him.
"Did I say something amusing thin-blood?"
The ranger sneered at the boy.
"Indeed," he said, "You act like the elven gods are so much better than the human's one god."
Kierhen shook his head.
"You would be surprised, if you knew the truth."
The boy rose from where he had been sitting, he walked up to the Ranger, who leaned back in his chair, unafraid of the young mage's anger.
"And what truth is that?" he asked.
The Ranger held up the arrow head he had been working on, he barely seemed to care that he had angered a boy that could burn his hair off with a gesture.
Kierhen smiled.
"I have been many places boy," he said, "Seen the ruins of the elvhen, seen the evidence with my own eyes."
He shook his head.
"The elves had their own kingdom once. How do you think kingdoms are built boy, how do you thing they are ruled. How do you think they are held?"
Kierhen's eyes narrowed.
"How many people died on the borders of the Dales in the names of elvhen sovereignty? How many travesties did the elves carry out in the name of the Creators?"
The Ranger sighed.
"Human's believe their god turned his back on them because they disappointed him. The elvhen gods had to be locked away. Why do you think that was?"
Findel's eyes flashed.
"They were betrayed," he hissed, "We were all betrayed! Fen'Harel…he…"
Kierhen was on his feet in seconds.
He slapped the boy across the face.
Hard.
Esme gasped.
Findel's eyes widened in shock.
Kierhen glared at the boy.
"Don't you speak that name," he hissed, "You know nothing of the Dread Wolf, nothing…"
He glanced around at his companions. They were all speechless, never had the Ranger shown this kind of emotion before.
Findel touched his cheek, still unable to speak.
The Ranger pushed past him and left the room.
For a moment there was only silence.
IOI
Bok chuckled.
"Well," the dwarf said with a nervous laugh.
"Wasn't that interesting?"
Sister Esme got to her feet, she went Findel. The boy was still rubbing his cheek, which was starting to turn red.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
She reached out to touch him, but the boy pushed her away.
Hissing in anger, he pushed past her, on the way to his room.
She was about to go after him, but Royce stopped her.
"Let the boy alone," he advised.
She gave him a concerned look.
"But he…"
Bok chuckled.
"He is a teenager," the dwarf said, "Let him have his drama."
The dwarf looked out into the hall.
He frowned slightly.
"What set our dear Ranger friend off, I wonder?"
Royce looked at Esme, who only shook her head.
They had not been travelling with the Ranger long enough to know what was going on in his head.
Whatever it was, one thing was certain.
It was something that Kierhen cared deeply about, cared…or…
…feared.
IOI
Lyna sat in her room. She had returned their just after dinner. The Grand Duke had left to attend some court function, leaving her and her companions to their own devices.
She was pleased with that, she was grateful for the man's help, but…
She would be happy to be away from here. She had been around enough human nobles to know when they were playing power games.
She preferred not to be his pawn for much longer.
She glanced down at the page before her. Of all the manuscripts that the bard Sabine had copied, this latest one intrigued her the most.
It gave her two possible destinations on the next leg of her mission.
The first spoke of a legend in the city of Kirkwall, a store that no one could find except by invitation. This place…this Black Emporium as it was called was supposed to be run by a creature of great knowledge, a scholar who by unknown means had somehow managed to achieve immortality.
According to Brother Marcelle's notes, he had visited this place once. That the creature, this Xenon the Antiquarian had shared much with him, the old one was said to be in possession of some very interesting tomes on the past Blights, included in these tomes were reference to experiments regarding the taint itself.
Lyna smiled slightly.
She hoped that this Xenon still had them.
She would like to read them herself.
Second, among the Brother's many notes she found references to experiments carried out on caging darkspawn for further study. The Author, a Warden Commander who lived sometimes after the second Blight, had been very curious on how the Archdemon's song affected the warden mind.
The warden had supposedly served in a warden tower somewhere in the Vimmark Mountains, a tower that might still stand today.
Lyna figured it might be a good idea to visit such a place. If the wardens had kept records, some might remain in that place.
It was worth a look at least. It…
There was a knock at her door.
Lyna's elven ears twitched.
"Yes," she called out.
"It is Sabine, warden;" the bard called back, "Your guest has arrived."
Lyna smiled slightly.
"Enter," she called out, "please."
The door opened.
Sabine entered and stepped aside. Behind her came a hooded chantry sister. The red and white robes flowed around the woman as she walked her tread more akin to a cat than a priest.
The woman removed her hood, revealing short red hair, cut into the style preferred by Ferelden farm folk. He blue eyes sparkled with pleasure and mischief, her mouth curled into slight smile.
"Hello Lyna," she said.
"Leliana," the Dalish said with a frosty tone.
The warden frowned.
Leliana's smile vanished.
Lyna glanced behind her old companion, at the bard Sabine.
"Leave us," she ordered.
The bard bowed deeply and fled, leaving the two women facing each other.
The warden crossed her arms, her eyes taking in her old companion and her fancy new robes.
"Lyna?" the sister said, her own frown becoming more pronounced, not understanding her reception.
The warden stepped forward, the sister almost started to back up.
"Is something wrong?" Leliana asked.
Lyna said nothing.
The sister swallowed hard, she…
The warden sprang.
Leliana started to raise her hand to defend herself… but it was unnecessary.
The warden pulled her into a tight bear hug.
The sister gasped, fear giving way to relief.
"Thank the Maker," she sighed.
She felt the warden giggle into her shoulder.
"What?" she said pulling back and grinning, "You thought I was going to hit you or something?"
Leliana gave her a gentle smile.
"Considering what happened the last time I held this little item, I feared you might."
Lyna looked down; the sister was holding a small Dalish amulet. The same one that Lyna had worn since the day she had left her clan.
The same one her mother had left for her the day she was born.
The Dalish took it from her friend and put it back around her neck.
"I figured you would recognize it," the warden said, "I needed to make sure you would believe that the girl had come from me, and not the Grand Duke."
Leliana chuckled.
"I'm just glad you are not throwing anything at me for touching it," she said glancing around the room.
"You don't have any potatoes handy in here do you?"
The warden blushed.
When they had first left Lothering together, Lyna had made the mistake of leaving the amulet hanging on a tree while she washed up. Leliana had found it and brought it to her. Back then…Lyna had been extremely mistrustful of what she saw as the crazy sister in their midst, not to mention still a little crazy herself after first losing first Tamlen, her clan, and then barely surviving the battle of Ostagar.
In her madness, she had accused the sister of trying to steal from her; she had chased Leliana around their camp, throwing potatoes they had just purchased at her. In the end Sten had had to restrainer her.
Lyna gave her friend a sheepish look.
"It wasn't one of my best moments," she said.
Leliana giggled.
"At least we got through it."
The warden smiled.
"That we did."
Lyna looked her friend up and down, despite the fancy robes, Leliana remained the same person who had travelled over most of Ferelden with her, but at the same time, there was a change. She seemed calmer, more confident.
"Serving the Divine seems to agree with you, Lethallan."
Leliana smiled.
"Her Perfection and I are old friends, Lyna," she said with a hint of pride. "Justinia wants to do more for Thedas. Beatrix, Andraste keep her, did little in the last few years because of her failing health."
The former bard's smile widened.
"We are going to change all that."
The warden nodded. She still thought it a bit ridiculous, a human taking the title of "Perfection," but if the woman could do what Leliana thought she could, perhaps it would not be a bad thing that there was a new head of the Shemlen chantry.
Of course, she was not here to discuss politics.
She led her friend over to the table where she had been working. They had much to discuss before the night was through.
The warden had questions about their new enemy, and despite everything that had happened, she simply wanted to talk to Leliana.
She had missed her old friend.
It was nice to see a familiar face again.
IOI
Once the warden had finished telling her about everything that had happened since leaving Ferelden, Leliana leaned back in her chair, her mouth becoming a grim line, and her brow furrowed in thought.
She had seen that look before, back in Denerim; right before they had went and confronted that bitch Marjolaine.
Leliana had no doubt heard the tales of this Count Lumiere, and gave them enough credence that she was worried about her old travelling companion. Lyna had hoped that her old friend would have told her differently, that the Grand Duke was overreacting, but from what the warden was seeing…
…that…was clearly not so.
Leliana gave her a serious look.
"You will need to slip out of Orlais," she said, "As quickly as possible."
The warden sighed heavily.
"I was afraid that you might say that," she murmured, "The Grand Duke has offered us passage on a ship. He has promised to handle the matter personally, no servants or pages, no one who might be tempted to sell where we are going to any interested parties."
Leliana frowned. She had played the Grand Game long enough to know that such moves were never that simple, and rarely did a noble do something for nothing.
"Has the grand duke asked anything of you? Did he have any demands for this help?"
"None," Lyna said shaking her head, ""But that does not mean that he does not intend to profit from all this."
The warden smiled.
"From what I've heard from more than a few of the servants, the Grand Duke is not entirely…happy with how the Empress is ruling this country."
She shook her head.
"Having the support of the Vanquisher of the Blight would likely buy him an ally or two. Besides, it is clear that his main want is for this Lumiere to be gone. If he lets slip that we have fled Orlais, the Comte will likely leave in search of us, if he wants us as badly as the Grand Duke suggests."
Leliana chuckled.
The warden's elven ears twitched.
"What?" she asked.
The sister giggled.
"For someone who hates politics," she said, "You show a remarkable understanding of what is going on."
Lyna shrugged.
"I learned a few things in Amaranthine," she said shaking her head.
"Creators protect me."
Leliana gave her a sympathetic look.
"You may need those skills in the coming months," she advised, "If half of what I have heard of the Count of Light is true. You will no doubt face his agents again."
Lyna nodded.
She had never expected any of this to be easy. Her fame had made her an easy target for ambitious foes, foes eager to make a name for themselves by killing the Hero of Ferelden.
She frowned.
If this is what that Comte had in mind, he was in for a terrible shock.
Lyna did not go down easy.
A scary reputation would not save him if her ax found his neck in the near future.
Her old friend was concerned about her safety, but was smart enough not to pry too hard into Lyna's next destination. She trusted the woman implicitly, but any help she offered would have to come through functionaries, people who would have to other people, who would have to talk to other people, and so on…
Lyna knew without a doubt, that she could not trust them.
Conversation quickly turned to talk of home. Lyna told her a little about her life in Amaranthine and the sister told her a little about her duties in the Grand Cathedral. Justinia kept her old friend very busy apparently, the bardic skills her friend possessed were in great demand it seemed in the highest halls of the chantry.
It was while they were talking that there was a knock at the door. Frowning Lyna had risen to answer it.
She was surprised to see Kierhen there, the Ranger looked…troubled about something.
"Yes," she said.
The man fidgeted.
"We might have a problem with Findel," he murmured, noticing that the warden had company.
The warden's ears twitched.
"What kind of problem?"
The Ranger explained to her what had happened. Lyna tried to hold her temper. Had Findel been out of line with the others, possibly, but at the same time she knew what it was like to be in a world you didn't know, a world you despised.
She promised to speak to the boy as soon as she could, but suggested that the Ranger might at least want to consider apologizing to him.
Kierhen's eyes narrowed, but said nothing.
Lyna was giving him "the look," the look that said that he would have to think long and hard before he tried to refuse her.
In the end, he promised to consider her advice.
She nodded, and let him slip back to his quarters.
After she closed the door, she had sighed heavily.
Damn that man, she thought.
What had he been thinking?
She would have to deal with Kierhen and Findel later, for now she turned her attention back to her old friend.
Leliana had not moved from her chair, but it was clear that the bard had listened to at least some of the conversation.
The sister was giving her a sly smile.
"What?" Lyna asked.
""Nothing," Leliana replied, still grinning like the cat that had caught the canary.
"What?" the warden repeated.
Her friend giggled.
"I will say this for you Lyna," she said, "You do have a talent for drawing handsome men into your service."
The Dalish's ears twitched.
Handsome?
"Kierhen is a good ally," she said, "He is also aggravating, arrogant, and has no love for my people."
The warden sighed.
"I can honestly say I don't know why I let him stay."
Leliana smirked.
"I'm guessing you could come up with one or two reasons," she purred.
The warden considered that for a moment, then from the sly look on her friends face figured out what she meant.
The warden's face turned beet red, from her cheeks to the tips of her pointed ears.
Leliana giggled at her discomfort.
Lyna's eyes narrowed.
"Listen here Leliana," she began, "As far as me and Kierhen go, there is no me and Kierhen. First off: UGH! Second: he hates my people. He hates us."
The Dalish shook her head.
"Nothing could ever come to pass between us."
The sister shrugged.
I remember you saying something similar about you and Alistair once…"
She gave the warden a mischievous look.
"That worked out better than you expected.
The Dalish snorted and turned away.
"That was different."
"Really? How so?"
Lyna glared at her old friend, not pleased at all with how she was amusing herself.
"There is a lot of stuff in this room," she warned her, "Stuff that would hurt a lot more than a raw potato if you got hit with it."
The bard laughed and raised her hands in surrender.
"Okay, okay," she promised, "No more talk about your handsome new companion."
She leaned forward, her smile wide and predatory.
"But as a fellow woman," she said, "Well done in bringing that one into the fold."
Lyna wrinkled her nose and snorted.
Ugh!
Leliana had no idea what she was talking about!
The thought of her and Kierhen…the thought that they had anything in common…?
It…it was just so…so…
She shook her head.
She loved Leliana; they were close as sisters, but some of the things she came up with…
She shook her head again.
She and Kierhen!
UGH!