Chapter 31: Denerim

They entered Denerim early in the morning as the merchants were setting their wares out for the day. Once they were inside the gates, Aeden split the party into two groups. Leliana, Wynne and Sten joined Aeden to find Brother Genitivi and to check the Chantry board for work. Alistair brought Delia, Morrigan and Zevran with him to restock their supplies as well as his personal mission to find his sister.

As Alistair's group wandered through the market, he looked at the doors of the attached houses. Each door had a number painted within a small box, and he finally located the number he looked for. His excitement caught him by surprise as he realized how close he was to finding the sister he always longed to have. He reached out and put his hand on Delia's arm to get her attention.

"That's… my sister's house. I'm almost sure of it, this is… yes, this is the right address. She could be inside. Could we… go and see?"

Delia was almost as excited as he was. "Yes, let's do that," she said smiling.

Alistair suddenly had second thoughts about meeting his sister. He was unsure if she would know who he was, or if he even existed. His insecurity made him nearly turn away from the door, but Delia's hand on his elbow bolstered his confidence enough to enter the building. Once inside, he cleared his throat to get the attention of the woman washing clothes at the other end of the room.

"Err… hello?"

The strawberry-blonde woman looked up and wiped the suds off her hands before turning and walking toward them. "Eh? You have linens to wash? I charge three bits on the bundle, you won't find better."

Nervously, Alistair ran his hand through his hair as he looked at Delia for support. She placed her hand on his arm, smiled, and nodded slightly. He smiled back at uneasily, swallowed hard, and responded to the woman walking toward him.

"I'm… not here to have any wash done. My name is Alistair. I'm, well, this may sound sort of strange, but are you Goldanna? If so, I suppose I'm your brother."

The woman before him frowned. "My what? I am Goldanna, yes… how do you know my name? What kind of tomfoolery are you up to?"

Delia looked at the scowling woman in front of her and then shifted her gaze back to Alistair. "Are you sure your information was correct, Alistair?"

He looked back at her with his eyes wide open. His hand was again nervously running through his hair, and sweat beaded on his forehead. "Yes… I think so. I'm sure of it, in fact." He sighed before he explained to Goldanna about the circumstances of his birth. She responded to his story with anger and disgust because she had been told the child had died along with her mother and had been sent away with a few coins. When she looked to the people at Redcliffe Castle for more money to support herself, they had sent her away. Her life had been difficult, and she wanted nothing to do with any brother, unless he was going to make her life easier by plying her with money. Goldanna was anything but hospitable and accepting toward her brother, and was completely insulting toward Delia.

Delia took Alistair's arm and gently pulled him toward the door as she strongly suggested they leave. He was shocked at his sister's behavior and readily agreed to go. Once they were outside, they walked over to sit on a wooden crate that was up against the city's outer wall.

Alistair shrugged his shoulders and sighed. "Well, that was… not what I expected. To put it lightly." He shook his head and looked at the ground. "This is the family I've been wondering about all my life? That shrew is my sister? I can't believe it." His eyes watered as he struggled with his emotions.

He looked at Delia's eyes, with questions in his own. "I… I guess I expected her to accept me without question. Isn't that what family is supposed to do? I… I feel like a complete idiot."

Delia took his hand between her two and looked at him sadly. She knew only too well from her own experience that blood wasn't what defined acceptance, but she hated the fact that his heart was broken by the loss of his dream. Very softly, she spoke to him and said, "Everyone is out for themselves. You should learn that."

No matter how she said those words to them, they were going to hurt. He needed to hear them, however, and he nodded as he squeezed her hand gently. "Yes, I suppose you're right." He stood from the crate and held his hand out to her. "Let's just go. I don't want to talk about this anymore."

She stood and nodded, taking his offered hand in hers. They walked together toward the two other members of their group. Delia spoke to them to find out what supplies they still needed to buy, and then the four started down the alley toward a shop named The Wonders of Thedas. They hoped to resupply their lyrium supply as well as purchase specialized herbs from the store run by the tranquil mages from the Circle of Magi.

As they started down the narrow street, Zevran grabbed Delia's arm to stop her. He whispered to her, "Wait here. There is trouble ahead."

She looked at him in alarm. "How do you know?"

"I sense these things. It is what I do." He gave her a sultry smile and disappeared into the shadows.

Within a minute, they heard a scuffle ahead, and then Zevran called to them to come to him. The three ran up past the bend in the road and found Zevran tying the hands of an unconscious man. As Delia looked closer, she realized she recognized him. It was Gibbet, the boat hand from the Flying Gryphon.

Delia's shock was apparent to everyone. She never expected to see Gibbet again, and his appearance caused images of Nehairel to flash into her memory. Alistair found himself greatly disturbed by her reaction and he left her next to Morrigan and went to Zevran's side as the elf rolled his captive onto his back.

"Zevran, who is this man?" Alistair looked between Delia and Zevran looking for some sort of answer.

"Alistair, remember I told you that Zev saved me on my way to Amaranthine? This man was one of the sailors on the ship, but he had some sort of connection with the man who tried to kill me and my brother."

Zevran took a small vial from his pack. "Yes, and there must be a reason why he is in Denerim. Now is the time to wake him and make him talk." He opened the small vial and waved it under the man's nose. Quickly, Gibbet was coughing and trying to sit, but his bindings prevented his movement.

"Wha… it's you! What do ye want with me, elf?" Gibbet's eyes were wide with fear.

"I believe that I shall ask the questions here. State your business in Denerim." Zevran's eyes flashed coldly at the man.

Gibbet glared at Zevran. "I have nothin' to say to you, elf. Now leave me be."

"I cannot do that, as you have crossed my path in a most unsavory way. I know you were following my friends here, and you shall tell us why. Or, I shall have to find ways to make you speak." He shook his head from side to side. "I can tell you that you will not enjoy that, my good man. I suggest you speak freely, for I do not believe you could survive the kind of pain I would inflict upon you."

When Gibbet refused to speak, Zevran decided to up the ante. "My dear Morrigan, would you do me the honor of showing this man the kind of warmth that only someone with your talents could show him?"

She smiled devilishly. "With great pleasure." With that, she raised her hands in front of her, allowing orbs of magical fire to form on each palm. Gibbet's eyes grew more fearful, and when Morrigan released a trail of fire against his arm, the sailor shrieked in alarm.

"You're gonna fry me! Stop!"

"Answer me and you have no need to fear her fire. What is your business here?" Zevran's anger was building.

"I'm 'ere on business of the Arl o' Denerim. You have no right to keep me here."

"The Arl of Denerim? Do you mean Rendon Howe?" Alistair fought to keep his tone even, but his anger was rising. If Howe had hired this man, then Delia was in danger and he wouldn't allow her to be hurt.

"Aye, Howe is the man. I met him right after we docked in Amaranthine. He was lookin' for Nehairel. I told him Nehairel was missing, an' he was angry, he was. Found me again a week or so later, an' hired me to look for the Lady here." He moved his head indicating Delia was the woman, and Delia fought back a sudden surge of nausea.

Zevran pulled the man to a sitting position and looked him directly in the eye while pointing his dagger at his throat. "And what does the Arl of Denerim want with the Lady, hmmmm? What are you supposed to do when you find her?"

"He wants her brought to him as quick as possible. Didn't say why, but he said she wasn't to be killed."

"How many people are searching for her?" Alistair was running his hand through his hair again.

"All I know is he hired me. I don't know if he has anyone else lookin' for her." Gibbet glared at Delia. "All I know is she's more trouble than she's worth."

Zevran struck him across his face. "You think that I believe you were working alone? That you would be stupid enough to fight one against the four of us?"

Gibbet sneered at him. "And you think I'm gonna tell you who else was with me? I would'a snagged her an' dragged her away from you an' you wouldna even known she was gone. My friends would have cleaned up whatever mess you three others tried to make. I bet they're watching right now, just waitin' to gitcha as soon as they can."

Zevran started to search his pockets, and when Gibbet tried to protest he stuffed a gag into his mouth. In his coat pocket were documents describing Delia along with a sketch of her face. One of the documents had the names of the leader of a mercenary gang called the White Falcons.

"So, my friend, these were the men who were supposed to be helping you, eh? Well, we shall have to deal with them as well. Did you or your friends realize that you are fighting the fabled Grey Wardens?" Gibbet's eyes looked panicked, and Zevran chuckled. "Ah, so you had no idea that our lovely lady has some very important friends, no? Do not allow that to concern you, for your part in this is now at an end." He looked at Alistair. "My friend, would you be so kind as to escort our lovely companions to the Gnawed Noble Tavern. I shall meet you there in a few minutes, as soon as I can clean up the good Arl's mess here."

Alistair nodded and took Delia's hand in his. He looked at Delia and Morrigan before saying, "Alright, let's go. I bet we could all use a drink. Something strong, perhaps…"

He wouldn't allow Delia to look back, but they heard the sound of the knife as it cut the sailor's jugular vein. Gibbet's last breaths gurgled and echoed in the dark alley, and Delia thought the sound alone would make her pass out. Alistair's hand gave her enough strength to make it to the tavern, and they sat down in a booth in the back corner.

The tavern wench came to their table and took their order. Alistair took it upon himself to order a Denerim Pale Ale for each of them, and the three sat silently, sipping from their tankards, until Zevran finally rejoined them.

Delia was trembling against Alistair, so he put his arm around her shoulders in an attempt to calm her. Zevran noticed her distress, and suggested they return to camp. The three finished their ales and left the tavern as quietly as possible. Alistair put his arm around Delia's waist as they walked, and she leaned against him feeling his strength and appreciating his concern.

It didn't take long for them to make their way out of the city gates and back to their encampment. Once they arrived, Alistair had Delia sit at the campfire while he relit the fire. Zevran sat, sharpening his daggers, while he thought about the day's events. Nehairel couldn't have been on the ship as a coincidence, not if Rendon Howe had looked for him the day of the ship's arrival. The assassin himself had been hired by the Arl to kill the Grey Wardens, so he knew first hand that the man had no hesitations in destroying whoever stood in his way. Why would the man be after someone as lovely as Delia? Zevran needed answers, and he intended to have them sooner rather than later.