I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry!
I meant to update this much earlier and just... life happened. I've been in another country for the past couple months, college is killing me, and just UGH.
But I'm back. Sorry to all my readers about taking so long! Here's a nice long chapter to make up for it!
"You never told us your name, young one." The Keeper gazed at the outsider with questioning eyes.
"Don't have one." The strange elf grunted, wincing at the wound on her side.
"Surely you do?" The Keeper eyed the young woman speculatively.
The young woman sighed as she leaned her head back, staring at the darkening sky, lit red at its edges from the flames of the sun and fire.
"I lost it."
.
.
.
She woke with a start, her body jolting into wakefulness. She panicked for a second, not recognizing the tent over her head and the smells that surrounded her. But then she remembered where she was, who she was.
The Inquisition. Lavellan thought, shaking her head to rid herself of her dreams. It was not unusual for her to have vivid dreams, although most nights they were nightmares. Exiting her tent, she gaze around the camp, which was still and silent given the early hour. It was dawn, the usual time that Lavellan woke up, but she knew that her companions would probably take another two hours or so to wake. Cassandra would wake first, about half an hour from now, her military training ensuring that she woke up exactly on the seventh hour of the morning every day, even without a formal clock or Chantry bell tower to count the bell tolls. Then Vivienne would awaken around an hour from then, and scour the campsite for tea. Finally came Sera, who would probably sleep all day if she could. Lavellan usually just tipped her out of her sleep roll, as anything other than a hard shove would fail to actually get the elleth out of bed.
Camped not too far off was The Iron Bull and his Chargers, who were accompanying them back to Haven from the Storm Coast. Both Lavellan and Sera were a little peeved at the extra baggage, as larger parties traveled
slower, but Vivienne was glad for the more sedate pace, while Cassandra was just happy to be around other warriors again. Their Tevinter prisoner was bound and gagged, thrown off to the side of the camp and relatively forgotten, except for dinnertime when Iron Bull reminded someone to feed him.
In the quiet of the early morning, all sound was multiplied. Her pointed ears twitched, catching the rustle of wind through the leaves, the buzz of insects, the sniffle of a squirrel in the treetops… the sound of cloth shifting and steps approaching her.
Glancing down, she noticed the giant shadow that was steadily nearing her position, two large horns pointing out from the head.
"Iron Bull." She greeted, turning and craning her neck up to greet him. Note to self: have him sit down for long conversations, cause I can already feel my neck cramping.
"Herald." He nodded at her. "You always get up this early?"
"You noticed, huh?" She asked rhetorically.
"Hard not to." He replied. "We'll be approaching the road into the Frostbacks soon. My men don't have horses, so your group is gonna have to slow down some more –"
"That will not be a problem." Lavellan interrupted him with a dismissive wave of her hand. "I still have business to attend to in the Hinterlands, and the road we are on now continues to the Crossroads. When we reach the base of the mountains, you and your men will be going on to Haven without us. Oh, and make sure Leliana receives our Tevinter package."
Iron Bull kept his face impassive, mulling over her words. "I see. But what if my group gets lost?"
"Just follow the giant green hole in the sky." Lavellan drawled with a wry tone before giving Iron Bull a reassuring pat. "Don't worry, Leliana's people probably already know who you are, since they've been trailing us for the past week. They'll show you the way."
"We're being followed?!" Iron Bull exclaimed in surprise, glancing around as if the spies in question would appear out of thin air.
"On and off again. They're just keeping tabs on us." Lavellan nodded, ignoring the qunari's worry. "Leliana is such a worrywart sometimes."
"Herald." Iron Bull growled. "You better not be messing with me."
Lavellan kept her expression neutral, carefully disguising her amusement. "Does something bother you, Iron Bull?"
"My men and I are trained to keep our trail clean." He crossed his arms in dissatisfaction. "We would have noticed if we were being followed."
"Leliana's people are very good at what they do." Lavellan told him. "Don't let it worry you, they are on our side."
"It still gives me goosebumps." Iron Bull muttered. "Do you realize how paranoid I'm gonna be for the rest of the trip now?"
For the rest of their trip with the Chargers, she took great pleasure in watching Iron Bull jump at every snapping twig, earning himself annoyed glares from several of his men. He, in turn, glared at Lavellan, who was doing nothing to hide her smirk.
.*. *. ҉ .*.*.
"Tell me again why we are returning to the Hinterlands?" Sera's whine carried over the party as they crossed into the sprawling valley, leaving the Chargers to go on to Haven by themselves.
"Whining is not becoming of a lady, Sera." Vivienne immediately chided the elf. "Besides, if the Inquisition is to succeed in its endeavors, having the Grey Wardens on our side is a grand idea. The organization has gained quite a bit of grandeur since the Fifth Blight. When the Grey Wardens speak, all of Thedas stops and listens."
"Yeah, that's great, but that doesn't soothe the pain in my arse." Sera snapped irritably, then directed her voice to the front of the line, "Lala, can we take a break? Pleeeease?"
"Not if you keep calling that stupid name." Lavellan griped. Sera wasn't the only one who was getting grumpy after the last week of travel.
"Aw, but I like that nickname!" Sera giggled, "Varric will too, I think."
Lavellan twisted around in her saddle to face the other elf and hissed, "Tell Varric and I will eviscerate you!"
By now Cassandra had had enough, realizing that she was likely the only one with a level head at the moment. "Enough," She made a calming motion with her hands, "Let us take a small break and try to regain some composure, hm?"
The other women readily agreed, finding a small clearing and dismounting their horses with various grunts and groans. Sera slid off her horse and collapsed on the ground like a wet noodle, muttering angrily under her breath as her old pony ambled away from its crippled rider without a backwards glance. The other three dismounted with much more grace, Vivienne sliding off her horse as gracefully as everything else she did, while Lavellan and Cassandra dismounted with a soldier's precision, methodically relieving their horses of some of the heavier equipment before allowing them to wander and graze on the grass.
The four sat in a loose circle together, Sera pulling out a bag of snacks that she had started carrying with her at all times and tearing into something that might have been taffy. Cassandra and Vivienne also pulled out a snack and their canteens, though they showed much more restraint than Sera. Lavellan wandered away from the clearing after telling her companions that she was going to answer nature's call.
Ugh, attempting to take a piss in leathers is disgusting. She thought grumpily as she struggled with the ties on her armor. The wind picked up, blowing her hair in her face for good measure, making the elf splutter as a whole lock of hair blew into her mouth. She spat it out in frustration, hands flying to her head as swiped away the various strands of raven hair that had come loose from her braid. The wind changed direction, and she turned to face it in order to help pull away the loose strands… and froze.
Lavellan lifted her head slightly, flaring her nostrils as she sniffed the wind. The hairs on her arms and the back of her neck stood up at attention, her eyes narrowing. She couldn't name what it was that she had scented, but she trusted her instincts. Something on the wind was making them go haywire. Dark green eyes scanned the woods carefully as her brain attempted to name whatever was bothering her. It couldn't be predators, creatures like cougars and wolves hunted at dusk, it was still the middle of the day, and a bear would be too big to miss.
She sniffed the air again and caught a whiff of something… familiar, and yet not. Something that she knew she had smelled before, but she couldn't name where, and just faint enough that she could not say which direction it was coming from.
Lavellan carefully moved forward, slowly sinking into a crouch in order to prowl through the underbrush. Something in the air seemed to relax, as she slowly felt the tension in her shoulders ease. Whatever it was, it was gone. Still alert, the elf did not stand up just yet, but continued through the brush carefully and quietly. She noticed imprints in the soil at one point, but nothing that might have been a definitive footprint.
A frown marred her face as she reached down to lightly brush her fingers along the indents, scanning the plants around her for any broken twigs or stray hairs.
It could just be an old print of an animal… She thought to herself, Then again, the best spies wear soft leather foot wraps that hide the shape of their feet. That would make the same mark. It couldn't be one of Leliana's spies though... they broke off to follow Iron Bull back to Haven. No one else should be following us.
Lavellan got on her hands and knees and carefully bent down to the ground, ears twitching as they kept tabs on her surroundings. She got close enough to the soil that her nose barely skimmed the earth, and then inhaled as deeply as she could. All she smelled was the earth and nothing more. Finally, Lavellan stood, and after one last careful look around the area, and walked back to her companions, deciding that she could at least hold it in for another hour or so.
Still, she couldn't shake the tingly feeling crawling up her back, telling her that something was amiss.
.*.*. ҉, .*.*.
Upon their return to the Hinterlands, the company headed straight for the Crossroads, making for the camp that was stationed on the hillside overlooking the town. After a brief break wherein Sera and Lavellan took naps, Vivienne mixed a couple more potions, and Cassandra went down to the town and restocked supplies, they all regrouped and began searching for the elusive Grey Warden.
Judging from the rumors that Cassandra had picked up while she had been at the Crossroads, the Warden had been wandering around the entire valley for a while, going from village to village and setting up small militias to help protect the civilians from the civil war and the bandits that attempted to take advantage of it.
As admirable as that was, it had Lavellan puzzled. Grey Wardens, despite their relative popularity with the common folk, were not known for their charity. They were not a police force, and other than the Blight, they usually kept to themselves. Grey Wardens had no reason to be taking a stand in the Mage-Templar war, nor did it make sense for them to waste time and money funding civilian militia unless they were planning on recruiting. And if Lavellan remembered correctly, the Right of Conscription was reserved only for emergency cases (she had read the story of the 'Hero of Ferelden' too many times to count as a teenager).
"Ugh, we've been looking for this guy all day!" Sera muttered as she jiggled her legs in boredom, making the pony beneath her snort and shake its head.
"Sera, still your legs." Lavellan reminded her. "You don't want to accidentally signal the horse into a gallop."
Sera immediately ceased her movement, face paling as she clutched the reins and eyed her horse warily. Luckily for her, the pony was an old and lazy thing, and easily ignored her unconscious gestures. The city elf was no fan of animals, and riding a horse was definitely not her forte.
"We've searched over half of this valley already," Cassandra sighed, for once being sympathetic to Sera's impatience. "And we've visited every village we could think of."
Lavellan nodded as she reached up to rub her nose, inwardly cursing the pollen in the air. "Let's head back to camp for the day." She said, slowing her horse down and angling it back towards the valley center to return to the Crossroads. "We'll search the northern half of the valley tomorrow."
Fate always did have a good sense of irony, though Lavellan was highly unamused when they neared their camp and her sensitive ears heard a drill sergeant in the distance. Glancing over at Sera, whose pointed ears were also twitching at the unusual sound, the two elves signaled their human companions to be quiet and followed the sound of the voice.
As it turned out, the Grey Warden they were looking for was literally in their backyard. Lavellan gave a huff of exasperation as she reigned her horse to a stop on the other side of the lake, eyeing the prominent griffon crest displayed upon the man's chestplate.
"This is ridiculous." Vivienne huffed.
"You've got to be joking…" Cassandra growled.
"He's been here the whole time?!" Sera groaned, grabbing a fist-full of her hair and tugging it as she slumped over her horse in frustration.
Why do you do this to me? Lavellen thought as she looked up at the sky, sighing as she dismounted and began to cross the bridge leading to the other side of the lake. She heard Cassandra and Vivienne dismount behind her, while Sera remained seated.
"I ain't the one doin' the talkin'." The cranky elleth said as she made herself comfortable on her horse. "So I'll just wait here."
Lavellan shrugged her shoulders, leaving Sera to catnap (on a horse of all places) as she stepped off the bridge and headed towards the fisherman's shack where the Grey Warden was teaching a couple farm boys how to hold a shield while simultaneously holding a sword. Easy right? Wrong. Somehow, these boys made it look as if using two hands at once was some sort of complicated equation.
Cassandra made a disgusted noise behind her, no doubt wincing as one of the boys flailed his axe around like he had every intention of cutting off his own hand. Lavellan glanced back and snorted at the constipated look on the Seeker's face.
"Remember how to carry your shields," The Warden scolded as he approached one of the young men and adjusted his arm up. "You're not hiding, your holding."
Lavellan waited a few more moments until the man pulled away from his students, allowing them to continue their practice. As he stepped back, she called out.
"Grey Warden?" His head popped up faster than a mole from its hole. "Warden Blackwall?"
His eyes narrowed suspiciously, which took her by surprise, though thinking about it, the Grey Wardens were always a paranoid bunch. Also, she didn't have the right to talk either, being just as suspicious about new people.
"You're not – How do you know my name? Who sent –"
Suddenly the wind whistled, Lavellan's ear twitching just in time to register an arrow flying towards them. She stepped back to avoid it, but instead the Warden lifted his shield and took the hit with ease. Cassandra and Vivienne whirled around, one pair of hands flying to their weapon and shield while the other pair began to glow with magic.
"Bandits?" Vivienne asked in confusion.
So close to our camp and the Crossroads? Lavellan furrowed her brows as her hands closed around the pommel of her blades. How did they get past the Inquisition patrols?
"Help or get out." Blackwall growled. "We're dealing with these idiots first."
"Well it's not like I'm gonna stand here and let them attack me." Lavellan drawled, already twirling her daggers in her hands. "And your farm boys here don't stand a chance."
The Warden took a second to give her a dirty look before he went charging towards the bandits.
What? It's true! Lavellan thought as she followed right behind him, letting him distract the first bandit they encountered as she slipped around the man and slammed her dagger into his side. The man faltered, falling to one knee just as Blackwall backhanded him with his shield.
Lavellan rolled out of the way just as another bandit attempted to cut her in half, popping back up to see several arrows appear out of nowhere and take the man's eye out. While he was busy screaming she cut his throat, then threw a smirk across the lake to where Sera was still sitting on her horse and casually notching arrows as if she were merely at target practice.
"Down!" Vivienne's voice sailed over the skirmish, and immediately Cassandra and Lavellan ducked, the elf dragging Blackwall down with her just as a wave of ice sailed over their heads and slammed into the bandits that still stood. In the next second Cassandra and Blackwall each shattered one of the frozen men, while Lavellan gave the last one a good kick in the face and knife to the head.
It was all over in a matter of minutes. Lavellan and her companions had not even broken a sweat, and neither had the Warden. His students, on the other hand, not only looked winded, but stared at the dead bodies with mute horror.
"Well that was a nice little warm up." Lavellan hummed aloud as she immediately knelt down and began searching the bandit's pockets. Behind her, Cassandra and Vivienne gave irritated groans. One of the enemy soldiers twitched, and she quickly stabbed the man through the eye, making sure that he stayed down.
One of the farm boys threw up.
"Oooh look guys! This guy has an enchanted ring!" Lavellan's eyes sparkled like a magpie as she held it up, beckoning Vivienne over. "Can you tell what the enchantment is?"
"Herald." Cassandra huffed. "Focus on our mission please!"
Lavellan hid a smirk as she stood, tossing the ring at Vivienne and approaching the Warden.
"Good work, Conscripts," The Warden was saying to the farm boys, making the elf raise her eyebrows at his address, "Even if this shouldn't have happened. They could've – well, thieves are made, not born."
Lavellan's lips thinned, but she carefully kept the rest of her expression neutral as Warden Blackwall continued his little speech.
"Take back what they stole. Go back to your families." He nodded at the bodies. "You saved yourselves."
Her brows furrowed. I didn't think Wardens allowed their Conscripts to leave service so early? Huh.
This Blackwall was certainly an impressive figure, a bear of a man. With his thick (and admittedly luscious) beard, deep voice, and commanding stance, he was everything her younger self would have imagined a Warden to be. His armor was old and worn, but her sharp eyes could tell that he took good care of it. That earned a bit of approval from the elf; a good warrior always took care of their equipment. There were scratches and small dents in the metal parts of his armor, but the metal was well-polished, and his sword honed. A gryphon reared proudly upon Blackwall's breastplate, reminding Lavellan of her childish dreams of heroes and adventure.
A sad look crossed Lavellan's face before she shook it off and approached the man. His head snapped up at the whisper of her soft footsteps on the fallen leaves, his face shuttering closed in a guarded expression.
"You're no farmer." He said it like an accusation.
Lavellan snorted at the thought of herself planting potatoes and harvesting radishes. "Nice speech. A little too cheesy for my tastes, but your little ducklings seemed to lap it up." She gestured to the farm boys as they walked back towards the Crossroads.
"Why do you know my name? Who are you?" Blackwall demanded, ignoring her little jibe.
"Do you always greet strangers with such enthusiasm?" Lavellan drawled sarcastically as she rubbed the back of her head in an exhausted manner. His expression remained stern, clearly unimpressed. "Fine, fine. You ever hear of the Inquisition?"
His eyes lit up in recognition, brow furrowing in confusion. "Inquisition, huh? Heard you guys have the whole Chantry in an uproar." He nodded as he crossed his arms. "But I don't see how that concerns me."
"A lot of weird stuff has been going on lately, in case you haven't noticed." Lavellan said, flapping her hand in a vague manner, making the man snort at her understatement. "Templars, mages, the murder of the Divine… and, apparently, the disappearance of the Wardens. They can't all be a coincidence, don't you think?"
"Maker's balls." Blackwall muttered, swearing like a soldier (and maybe he had been, before joining the Wardens). "The Wardens and the Divine?" He shook his head. "That doesn't even make sense. The Wardens have no business with the Chantry, nor with the Templars or Mages."
"I didn't even know that Wardens were disappearing until you told me." Blackwall admitted, then shrugged his shoulders. "But we do that, right? No more Blight, job done, and Wardens are the first to be forgotten."
I assure you, they have not been forgotten. Lavellan still remembered the fear that gripped her heart when word had arrived from Fereldan of the Fifth Blight, the hundreds of refugees pouring into the docks from the decimated country, their eyes dark and dull with horrors she could not even imagine.
"But one thing I'll tell you," Blackwall continued, "No Warden killed the Divine. Our purpose isn't political."
"We aren't blaming the Wardens just yet." Lavellan assured him. "But we can't help but wonder if it isn't somehow related. Our attempts to make contact with the Wardens of both Fereldan and Orlais have been met with silence… and given recent events, I am sure you can imagine how worrisome that is."
"I'm afraid I can't help you there." Blackwall sighed. "I've been traveling alone for months, recruiting. There's not much interest with the Archdemon a decade dead, and no need to Conscript with no Blight coming. Treaties give Wardens the right to take what we need, who we need. These idiots forced this fight, so I 'conscripted' their victims. They had to do what I said, so I told them to stand. Next time they won't need me."
Lavellan exchanged a confused glance with Cassandra, who also looked a little unsure of Blackwall's methods, but opt to remain silent, for now.
"Grey Wardens can inspire, make you better than you think you are – "
She could tell he was about to go into another inspiring spiel, and quickly held up her hand, silencing the Warden.
"Yeah, that's very nice." Lavellan drawled, earning herself a dirty look from both Blackwall and Cassandra. "But if that's all the information you have, then we have nothing else to talk about. Good day, Warden. And good luck hunting darkspawn!"
She gave the warrior a mocking salute before she spun on her heel and walked back over to where Sera was watching the horses, ignoring Cassandra's dramatic huff as she passed her.
"Hold a moment!" Blackwall's voice called after them, taking the elf by surprise.
Lavellan froze, one leg in the stirrup of her saddle, ready to mount, while her other leg kept her steady on the ground. Vivienne had already mounted her horse, while Cassandra paused to stand beside Lavellan.
"The Divine is dead, and the sky is torn. Events like these, thinking we're absent is almost as bad as thinking we're involved." Blackwall began to say.
"Cut to the chase, Warden." Lavellan sighed, grunting as Cassandra elbowed her in the ribs. "If you wanna join the Inquisition, just say so. They need all the help they can get, so they aren't exactly picky. I mean, they even let Sera join!" The elleth grinned as she pointed at the elf who was currently dosing on the back of her horse.
"Lavellan!" Cassandra hissed in her ear, while Vivienne sighed dramatically and Sera giggled in her sleep.
"So!" Lavellan continued, ignoring a fuming Seeker and an exasperated mage. "What're you offering me, oh great and noble Warden?"
"Not to brag, but us Wardens are damn good fighters. All it took was two Grey Wardens to stop the Fifth Blight." He huffed amusedly. "Maybe fighting demons from the sky isn't something I'm practiced at, but show me someone who is."
Lavellan raised her hand. "I am!" She grinned. Cassandra seemed to have had enough of her sass, and violently yanked on Lavellan's braid. "Ow!" Hands flew to grip her precious head as the elf scowled at the Seeker.
Blackwall's lips twitched in amusement at their antics as Lavellan then proceeded to stick her tongue out at the Seeker, making the brunette roll her eyes in response.
"Not to mention there are the Treaties." Blackwall mentioned, earning their full attention.
"I don't think those are applicable during this time." Cassandra spoke up, though her eyes shone with interest.
The Warden shrugged. "This may not be a Blight, but it's bloody well a disaster. There are some who would still honor them. Being a Warden means something to a lot of people."
Lavellan nodded at that, and then exchanged questioning glances with her two companions that were still awake. Vivienne shrugged, not really caring who the Inquisition accepted as long as it wasn't a bald, pointy-eared apostate. Cassandra nodded in return, very much in favor of allowing the Grey Warden among their ranks.
She turned back to Blackwall with a smirk. "One more warrior and the promise of a few more? How could I say no? Welcome to the Inquisition, Blackwall."
The man seemed to relax in relief, before a tentative smile touched his stern face. "Good to hear. We both need to know what's going one, and perhaps I've been keeping to myself for too long. This Warden will walk with the Inquisition."
"I'm Lavellan, the leader of this rag-tag group you see here. Let's see what we can do with you, hm?" She asked as she plastered a smile on her face.
Both Lavellan and Blackwall took a step forward to shake hands, sealing the deal, while Cassandra went to mount her horse and Vivienne clapped her hands in a near-mocking applause.
"Splendid!" The enchantress exclaimed. "Now can we please get back to civilization? I still have blood on my robes, you know!"
Blackwall glanced at Lavellan with his brows raised.
"She's a drama queen." Lavellan whispered. "And complains all the time. You get used to it."
"And the sleeping elf?" Blackwall's gaze landed on Sera who was draped over her saddle and snuggled into her horse's mane.
"I think she was a cat in her last life." Lavellan hummed. "I also think she sniffs lyrium in back alleyways, but I'm not exactly sane either. But she's a damn fine archer. Now then, will you be accompanying us back to the Inquisition headquarters? Or would you like to make the trip yourself?"
The Warden shrugged. "Might as well travel with you."
Lavellan nodded. "We'll have to get you a horse, then. Lucky for you, one of our camps is not too far away from here. We can have them assign you a horse there. In the meantime, you'll have to ride with one of us."
She glanced over her company, already knowing who she would pick. "Cassandra, your mount is the sturdiest of our horses. Would you mind giving our newest ally a ride to camp?"
"As you wish, Herald." Cassandra bowed her head as she urged her mount to walk closer to the Warden.
"Wait, you're the Herald of Andraste?!" Blackwall spun to stare at Lavellan in surprise.
"Alright everyone, let's get back to camp." Lavellan ignored him as she neared her horse. With that Lavellan turned to mount her horse, leaping into the saddle with ease.
Cassandra leaned down and reached out to Blackwall and holding out her hand to help him onto her warhorse. A little unsteadily, he climbed up onto her horse, settling himself behind her, pausing as he tried to decide if it would be okay to put his hands on her hips or not. In the end, Blackwall decided that it would be more polite to keep his hands on the woman's shoulders, since they had only just met.
"Hey, lazy!" Lavellan yelled as she maneuvered her horse to stand next to Sera's and kicking out to smack her boot against Sera's butt.
"Oi!" Sera yelped as she woke up abruptly, nearly falling out of her saddle as she scrambled to hold onto the horse's mane. The animal beneath her huffed grumpily and side-stepped as it shook its head, as if scolding Sera.
Both Cassandra and Vivienne chuckled under their breath.
When the blonde elf finally got her horse under control, she turned to glare at Lavellan over her shoulder. "Tha fuck was that for, mate?!" And then she immediately froze at the sight of a large man sitting behind Cassandra. "And who the fuck is that?!"
"If you were awake and alert like a proper soldier, you would know!" The Seeker huffed.
"Newsflash, piss-pants, I ain't a soldier!" Sera pulled down her lower eyelid and stuck her tongue out at the Seeker.
"Alright, ladies, settle down." Lavellan said with a faint smirk. "Sera, this is Warden Blackwall. We just recruited him for the Inquisition. And now we're taking him back to camp to get him a horse."
Sera eyed Blackwall up and down with a narrowed gaze, as if deciding whether or not she would accept him or not.
"A Grey Warden, you say?" She asked, ears twitching in thought. "Well… alright. Your kind did a lot of good in Fereldan all those years back. Even helped the Red Jennies at one point."
"The who…?" Blackwall furrowed his brows.
"Charitable thieves," Lavellan explained back to him as she nudged her horse into a brisk walk and setting off for their camp. "They steal from the rich and give to the poor, along with the occasional revenge scheme against nobles who abuse their status."
"More like petty criminals." Cassandra muttered under her breath.
Lavellan shot Cassandra a look that told her to stop talking, not wanting to listen to Sera and the Seeker bicker the entire trip back to camp. The Seeker puffed her cheeks in annoyance, but kept her mouth shut, much to the elf's relief.
A Grey Warden now? Lavellan thought to herself as the group fell into a comfortable silence, save for the crunch of leaves beneath horse hooves and the occasional bird call. Seekers, apostates, Qunari and lowly thieves… now a Warden. What will it be next? A friendly demon? She almost snorted at the thought.
Still… poor Leliana. The elf frowned. We still don't have any answers about the disappearances. But… how is it all related? Templars and mages were meeting at the Conclave, so it would not be far-fetched to think that they clashed somehow and it resulted in an explosion. But where do the Wardens stand in this? As far as I know, the Wardens have always accepted anyone, templars, mages, apostates, you name it. They would not have a reason to attend the Conclave, if they were even there.
Even so, it can't all be a coincidence. Lavellan absently steered her horse through the winding rocks that separated the Crossroads from the upper hills, ignoring the faint banter between Sera and Vivienne somewhere behind her. I don't believe in coincidences. There's got to be a missing link.
For the first time in many days, Lavellan again tried to access her memories of the night of the Conclave. But once again, she was met with a blank slate. Nothing. All she could remember was climbing in the rafters above the attendees, looking down at the tense congregation of mages, templars, and Chantry officials as some old woman gave a speech that she had not bothered listening to. But it couldn't have ended there. She knew something happened, she could feel it in her bones.
What if… what if she had not lost her memories? What if they were taken? Could she have seen or heard something she shouldn't have? Did whoever their enemy was erase her memory to ensure that they could not be found out?
Ugh, I'm running in circles here. Lavellan thought with a frown. She really needed a drink.
.*. *. ҉ .*.*.
Blackwall POV
Blackwall's whole body was tense, though he tried to relax into the rhythm of the horse beneath him. It did not help, though, that the woman sitting in front of him, who introduced herself as Cassandra Pentaghast, was a rather intimidating person. It would not surprise him if she cut off his hands if they so much as skimmed anything below her shoulders. Not to mention the little blonde elf was blatantly staring at him as if attempting to pick him apart and figure out all his thoughts. Meanwhile, the mage and the other elf – Lavellan, if he remembered correctly – were ignoring everything else, one seemingly lost in thought while the other filed her nails.
Orlesians. Blackwall thought with an amused shake of his head. He knew a courtier when he saw one, although it was unusual to see a noble mage. And if he remembered correctly, Pentaghast was a noble name as well, from Nevarra if he was not mistaken.
"Pentaghast…" He began aloud, earning Cassandra's attention. "Isn't that the name of the Nevarran royal family?"
"Whaaaat!" Sera's sudden interruption was of no surprise to anyone save Blackwall. "Miss pissy-pants over here? A princess?!" The elf began to giggle at the thought.
"You are correct, Ser Blackwall." Cassandra acknowledge, making the elf choke on her laughter. "I am seventy-eighth in line for the throne, actually. And I have no desire to be anywhere near it."
Blackwall gave a low chuckle while Sera was busy gawking at the Seeker, nearly falling off her pony… again.
"Y-You… What?!" Sera squeaked.
At this, Lavellan finally seemed to break from her thoughts and glance over her shoulder at Cassandra with raised brows. "My, my, Seeker. I had wondered about your last name, but I never would have believed it if you hadn't said it yourself!"
"Do not let my bloodline fool you, however." Cassandra continued, ignoring the spluttering archer. "I earned my sword and shield through battle, not titles. I am no princess."
"I have no doubt, Lady Seeker." Blackwall assured her. "I saw what you did in the fight back there."
He could not see the pleased smirk on Cassandra's lips from his position behind her, but he certainly heard the confidence in her voice when she spoke.
"Just wait until you see me in a real battle, messere." The shield maiden chuckled. "I could teach you Wardens a thing or two."
Blackwall raised his brows. "We'll see about that."
"Ooh, is that a challenge I hear?" Lavellan called from her horse, slowing it down so that she could drop back and walk next to them. "You two should make it a show for the soldiers! Show them what a real fight looks like, and lighten their mood while you're at it."
"Not a bad idea." Vivienne finally decided to interject into the conversation. "Maker knows that one of the greatest challenges that an army faces is moral. All it takes is a few dissenters before you have a serious crisis on your hands."
Cassandra nodded slowly at that, warming up to the idea. "I shall speak of it to Commander Cullen, but I am sure he shall approve."
"Speaking of our glorious leaders…" Lavellan hummed, turning to Blackwall. "You'll have to speak to Leliana when we arrive. She's our spy master."
Blackwall raised his eyebrows at that.
"She has a few friends among the Grey Wardens. When they disappeared, she asked us to look into it, which led us to you." Lavellan explained to him vaguely.
"I… see?" Blackwall said with uncertainty, but the leader of their little group was already kicking her horse forward to re-take the lead.
The Warden's eyes trailed after the elf girl. She was supposed to be the famed Herald of Andraste? A Dalish elf that could still be mistaken for a teenager? Despite growing up Andrastian, Blackwall had never been a very religious person. He believed, sure, said his prayers and went to the Chantry once in a blue moon. But to think that people thought that a non-believer could be Andraste's chosen? It was… unbelievable. Not to mention the elf certainly did not act very holy.
"I see camp!" Sera's exclamation interrupted his thoughts. "Oh I hope someone there has cookies!"
"Why in the world would anyone be baking cookies at a time like this?" Vivienne scoffed.
"Ya never know, right?" Sera shot back.
Both Cassandra and Lavellan seemed to roll their eyes at the two bickering women. Blackwall had a feeling this was a common occurrence. After reaching camp, the company separated for a while, allowing the soldiers to care for their steeds while they each broke off to take care of their own necessities. Lavellan escorted the Warden to the camp's quartermaster, demanding a horse to be assigned to him for their journey to Haven in the morning. Then the elf dragged the larger man to the medic tent, informing him that every member of her company was supposed to carry a few health poultices on them, even during battle.
After that, the Herald left to take care of her own needs, leaving Blackwall to his devices as the sun set on the Inquisition campsite.
Everything has happened so fast. Blackwall mused as he grabbed a plate of food from one of the tables and sat down by one of the fires. It was only that morning that he had been traveling alone through the wilderness, with no plan or destination in mind. And now I'm part of this Inquisition.
His eyes trailed over the soldiers as they scurried around the campsite, noting that many were young and inexperienced. Probably just finished basic training too. Despite this, the camp was well-organized and sufficiently supplied. Whoever the army's commander was, Blackwall had to give the man credit. The Inquisition likely did not have many resources at the moment, but their commander certainly knew how to work with what he had.
"Oi, you gonna eat that?"
Blackwall looked up to see Sera poking her head over her shoulder, eyeing the half-loaf of bread on his plate. The Warden shook his head, and the elf snatched the bun up before he could even blink, devouring the loaf in seconds.
"Mhm…" She nodded, speaking with her mouth full. "Guh'sterf."
She disappeared for a moment, before coming back and sitting down next to him, two tankards of mead in her hands. "So, whatcha think so far?" She asked as she handed him a cup.
"It's… not bad." He replied slowly.
"Ha! Betcha I know what yer thinkin'." She shook a finger at him. "Prolly thought it's be bigger, eh? That's what I said!"
"Well, no." Blackwall took a sip of the alcohol to cover up his bewildered expression.
"Just wait 'til ya meet the others!" Sera giggled, though he doubted she was drunk this early in the evening. "We got piss-pants, that stuck-up witch, a trusty dwarf, the egghead apostate, and a fuckin' Qunari! And now you! This is gonna be sooo much fun!"
Blackwall felt his eyebrows rise at the strange rag-tag group that she described.
"And, of course, we can't forget Miss Glowy!"
"Miss… Glowy?"
"The Herald, silly!" Sera leaned in as if to tell him a secret, saying, "But don't bring that up around her too much, yeah? Lala doesn't like the title much. Being elfy and all."
Her words… make absolutely no sense. Blackwall thought as he nodded absently. Perhaps the Herald was right about this elf taking one to many hits of lyrium.
"Anyway, we should get some shut-eye." Sera decided as she down the last of her tankard in three gulps, impressing the old soldier in Blackwall. "Maker knows Cassandra will be screaming us awake in the mornin'. And take it from me, the more sleep ya have, the less you'll be inclined to stick an arrow in her throat. Or maybe it's just me."
And then the little elf chit was gone, like a whirlwind through the desert. Blackwall's ears were still ringing from her none-stop chattering as he found a tent with an empty cot in it. He removed his armor, feeling a little more human as he did so, and lay down in safe comfort for the first time since he had begun traveling on his own.
He had a feeling this would be the beginning of a long journey.
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