Flissa was up and about at the crack of dawn, seeing to the business of her tavern. She was not expecting many patrons so early in the morning, or during much of the daylight hours, for that matter; before and after the disaster of the Conclave, the greatest hours of business were the ones closest to the day's end. But things had changed, and the Singing Maiden now served a double purpose as the haunt of Inquisition soldiers and refugees. While most of the latter could rely on the charity of the Chantry, the Singing Maiden provided a jovial atmosphere that was so painfully lacking in their lives. Sometimes when the Chantry kitchens were over capacity, a few of the flock would head to the tavern, the only other place besides compassionate locals to find any nourishment. Flissa couldn't bring herself to demand any coin from them, especially the youngsters.
The former were a hardier bunch, but no less welcome. They weren't free to frequent her establishment as often as they'd like, but whenever they did come, they paid well and spread hope for a better future with their presence. They were a symbol of the Inquisition's growing power, a symbol of better times to come and order to be restored. They also saved her the trouble of hiring bouncers when things got rowdy. Netta liked to talk to them, to ask them about their day and listen to their stories. Many of them were new recruits, so they had not much experience fighting for the Inquisition in other places, but on lucky days the veterans would be there and recount their adventures to the little girl – both of their time in the Inquisition, and before. As a result, Netta became something of a mascot to them, a little plaything they would spoil from time to time.
Flissa gave the dining area a cursory glance before turning round the corner into the kitchen. The floors and the hearth had been swept by one of the serving girls before closing time and looked as immaculate as remote mountain village tavern could get. There had been no broken furniture in the past three months, much the woman's satisfaction.
That's how it should be, she thought. Extra costs aside, I can't serve Sister Leliana well with a tavern of ill repute. That would not do. She used to act as an informant to the spymaster back when she managed an inn in Denerim. When Leliana offered her the chance to own her own establishment, she jumped at the opportunity regardless of its location. Ever since she took control, she promised to run the Singing Maiden to the utmost of her ability; doing otherwise would have made her feel like an ingrate.
"Morning, Osbert," she greeted as she entered the small kitchen; it was alternately walled with wood and plaster to decrease the chances of catching fire. "Smells divine. A new special?"
"Morning, Fliss," the squat middle-aged man greeted back. He had a bald pate ringed by a crown of rough, black hair and a short beard connected to a mustache on his upper lip. "As special as I can make it," he then said in response to her question. "Got a share of the venison the Grey Warden shot the other day...it ain't gonna last, but it's going to make a fine meal."
"I don't doubt it. Everyone loves your cooking." A knowing smile played on Flissa's face. "The Herald of Andraste called it the best she ever tasted."
"In her life," Osbert pointedly added, and his voice was swollen with pride.
"Get a bowl ready for her breakfast, then," the innkeeper said. "She stayed the night upstairs and will probably wake up soon."
At that, Osbert started fussing over the pot anew, paying extra attention to the flavors and ingredients as though his life depended on it.
Flissa exited the kitchen and set to work opening the shutters, letting the early morning light fall upon the stones in a soft, milky glow. The serving girls would be here soon to assist Osbert and do another sweep-over of the floor before strewing the rushes. When all the windows were no longer shuttered, she unlocked the tavern door, officially opening it up for business. Then she went to her place behind the bar, sorting out freshly cleaned mugs and cups and giving them yet another careful wipe. The action may have been unnecessary but to Flissa, it was safe and familiar, a ritual that began her day and gave her leave to let her thoughts drift.
Just then, the tavern door opened. A customer, so soon? she wondered, and looked up from her wiping.
In the doorway stood a windswept young man, dressed in traveling clothes and a thick cloak. His face was reddened from the cold and snow shook from his boots with every step he took. She could tell he wasn't from around here, for she was well acquainted with the locals. "I've come from Ostwick with a package for a Lady Ahnnie," he informed the confused innkeeper.
Flissa nodded. "You can set it down on the counter; I'll bring it up to her."
As he was doing so, the innkeeper motioned for him to sit down. "Make yourself comfortable," she insisted, "and I'll get you a hot drink."
"Thank you," the messenger breathed, and she went to fix him some hot cider, which he gratefully accepted, before taking the wrapped package and heading upstairs to her room. It was the last one on the left and when Flissa opened the door, she could see that Ahnnie was sound asleep, tucked in the same position as she had been the previous night. With careful steps the innkeeper crossed the room and gently shook the girl on the shoulder.
"Rise and shine," Flissa sing-songed. "Does your head hurt? I have just the thing for a hangover. It's Osbert's secret recipe."
"Mmm..." Ahnnie's eyes fluttered open at the disturbance of her slumber and stared out at Flissa as if seeing her for the first time. "Flis...sa?" she drawled confusedly, her brows furrowed.
"You were too drunk to get home last night," the innkeeper explained.
Ahnnie rose herself into a sitting position and blinked drowsily at the room about her. She would find that it was largely nondescript, a modestly sized room of wooden walls and floors, with a trunk, desk, and chair as the only furniture. The only decoration was a single framed painting on the wall opposite the bed. It was a still life of a vase of spring flowers; color in a colorless room. A parting gift from a friend in Denerim, Flissa recalled.
"Oh my god," the girl exclaimed when it all dawned upon her. "I'm so sorry–"
"'Twas no problem," Flissa reassured her.
"No, I have to pay you for using this room–"
I shouldn't let her know it's mine, then, the innkeeper thought. A good thing I put the cot away, and that Netta stayed at a friend's house last night. For she and Flissa shared this room, and Flissa didn't trust the little girl to keep from boasting about the matter. "Nonsense," she said at last. "I was more than happy to oblige. I didn't think it a good idea for both you and Master Blackwall to stumble through the night; those stone stairs can get real icy this time of year." Then, remembering the package, she handed it over to the girl. "A messenger came bearing this for you. Take a gander at it now if you like, but do refresh yourself and come downstairs for some breakfast when you're ready."
Ahnnie groaned and fell back on the pillow. Nooooo, she thought in dismay, what have I done? Creeping shame and humiliation swept over her at once. I have to repay her when...well, when I can. Now that I think about it, I'm still as broke as the day I first came here. Indeed, there was not a penny to her name. Does being part of the Inquisition include an income? I'll have to ask Cassandra about that.
But for now, there was this strange package sitting in her lap to deal with. Ahnnie sat up and regarded it curiously, wondering what could be beneath the brown paper wrapping. She pulled an end of the twine that tied it together and the knot gave way. Cautiously, she undid the paper wrapping, and found a dark leatherbound book sitting neatly in its confines; on top of the book, blocking most of the cover, was a folded piece of parchment paper.
Ahnnie picked it up and unfolded it. It was a letter written in cheap ink, but the handwriting was flowery and practiced.
Dear Ahnnie,
You are probably reading this after you have returned from the Hinterlands. I have heard many good things from there in the past few days, with more to come, I'm sure. I trust you've had an agreeable time and hope your return trip was safe.
With this letter you will find a copy of the book I lent you while I was in Haven. I was just in Kirkwall three days ago, perusing a bookstore, when I saw it and thought of you.
When next we meet, you must tell me what you think of it. Don't forget to have it signed by the author!
Best Wishes,
Eliana
With a wide grin, Ahnnie put the letter aside and found the muscular man on the cover of Hard in Hightown staring back at her. She brushed it slowly with her fingers, as if unable to believe it was real. But it was.
I almost forgot about Evelyn, the girl thought. She probably had to keep her family from knowing she was writing to me, for the paper and ink were of cheap quality and the letter was signed with her cover name. Still, this was so kind of her! I must write her back.
Throwing the covers off her feet, Ahnnie made the bed and quickly refreshed herself from a water basin on the desk. She next grabbed hold of the package – wrapping, twine, book, and letter all – before rushing down the stairs. Her spirits were soaring and she couldn't stop grinning (though thankfully, she was not drunk). She felt like a child on Christmas day.
The messenger said the sender was happy to receive a reply and Ahnnie set off at once for her cabin to write it. She wanted to be sure it was okay to reply before actually doing so; maybe this was just a one time thing and Evelyn didn't want to arouse the Trevelyan's suspicions with more letters. But if it was all right, then the Ostwick mage was probably confident in her ability to receive the correspondence privately.
My first ever penpal, right here in Thedas, Ahnnie thought in awe.
A delicious bowl of Osbert's venison stew sat warm in her stomach as she made her way across town, the book and letter re-wrapped in its brown paper and tucked under her armpit. As she switched between excitement for the letter and guilt for the freeloading, she added the savoury breakfast on her list of debts to the Singing Maiden. Oh, and the price of a meal and drink to Varric as well. The fact that she could still count what she owed satisfied her immensely. She so hated to be in other's debts, though they were nothing but nice to her.
The moment she stepped foot inside her abode, she wet the ink and unrolled some paper and let the words flow from there. She thanked Evelyn – er, this time Eliana – for the book and would be sure to read it and treasure it as one of her most prized possessions. She looked forward to the day they could meet to discuss it, and if Eliana knew of other good titles, perhaps she could suggest them to her? Also, did she ever read Swords and Shields? Was it really as bad as the author himself believed?
Oh well, I'll get myself a copy and read it anyway, Ahnnie wrote. She ended the letter with good wishes and folded it in three parts, like the other letter had been, before rushing out of her cabin to catch the messenger. He would be staying the night in Haven but she felt as though he might disappear if she didn't go fast enough. When she handed the letter to him, she was breathless from running. He found her determination amusing and promised her it would reach the intended recipient within a fortnight. On the topic of payment, he showed his good character by refusing it; the one who employed him already promised to pay for any such expenses.
With that taken care of, Ahnnie could rest easy as she strode towards the tavern door, and maybe partake in some excitement as she awaited a response from Ostwick. Now she knew why penpals were so appealing. But before she could exit, she stopped, remembering Lady.
A little visit wouldn't hurt. So she turned around and made for the side door instead.
When she approached the dog's stall, she saw Lady dozing contentedly on a soft bed of straw. Ahnnie paused at the stall door, not wanting to disturb the pregnant dog's sleep. Netta wasn't around to squeal over Lady, she noticed, but that was okay – Lady needed rest, carrying such precious cargo as she was. Ahnnie traced the curves of her bloated side as it heaved up and down in time to her breathing. Swollen breasts lined the bottom of her stomach, smooth and pink like fleshy little fruits.
By god, she's almost ready, Ahnnie thought in shock. It was only now that she noticed it, but the bulge of the dog's belly was close to the farther end of her body; as the pregnancy advanced, the pups moved closer to the pelvis. She might even whelp tonight!
But there was neither the time nor reason to continue gawking at Lady, for Ahnnie was due to report to Corporal Hargrave any minute now. Lessons resumed today, after all. With a last loving look at Lady, Ahnnie left the Singing Maiden and went to fetch her glaive-guisarme from her cabin in preparation for the lessons.
Polearm lessons finished, Cassandra was again unavailable for sword practice and there was no need to continue riding lessons, so Ahnnie went directly to Josephine's office again. Luckily, there were no icy nobles to waylay her in the Chantry. But when she entered the ambassador's office, she received a bit of unpleasantness anyway in the form of a lecture.
"You should not have let yourself get so intoxicated last night," Josephine scolded her after she sat down. "I heard of what happened, and of what you said – it is not dangerous, but borders upon it. And the language you used! What should happen if you went further? What if the wrong person were to hear it? As the Herald of Andraste, you have an image to uphold."
Ahnnie blushed. "I'm sorry, Josephine," she apologized. "I didn't mean to act out. However, I do think the way the elves are viewed is preposterous, and I still intend to ask Solas to come along with me to Val Royeaux. But of course, when I go drinking from now on, I'll watch myself more closely," she added.
Josephine nodded. "I understand; I, too, think the current views on elves are deplorable. Neither do I want to stop you from enjoying a drink. However, many people think in certain ways of the elves, and it is dangerous to come across as overly aggressive to them."
Ahnnie understood that. Bigotry was not easily overcome; a rule that held true in both Earth and Thedas. But change was always possible, and always happened. It was just a matter of when. Still, she let the matter die there and sat back in anticipation of the upcoming diplomacy lesson. It was more of the same, but with the impending journey to the heart of Orlais looming ahead of them, it was more vigorous. Josephine even gave her a notebook to take notes with.
"Study it well, but do not let yourself be caught consulting it," she warned Ahnnie. "It would only tell the Orlesians that you are forgetful and unlearned."
That's a reassuring thought to think of, Ahnnie remarked sarcastically when the lesson ended. Josephine meant well, of course, and Ahnnie would not have minded rereading her notes carefully that night; but she'd just been notified during the lesson that the Big Four (her new nickname for Cassandra, Cullen, Josephine, and Leliana) decided on a date for the trip. And that date was only a few days away.
Well, she never said anything about not bringing it along, Ahnnie pointed out as she strolled out of the Chantry. It made her feel rather proud to have noticed a loophole in Josephine's words, just as the ambassdor herself had taught. I'm getting the hang of this already. Bold words, but giving oneself a little ego boost every once in a while wasn't such a sin.
Ah, and now that her thoughts were on Val Royeaux, she curiously turned her direction towards one of Haven's lower tiers. Her heart beat nervously in her chest at the thought of what Solas would say; if he declined to come along, was it because she displeased him? Had she really destroyed their friendship because of some fear and careless words?
Nonsense, he's not like that...it's all just in my head.
When she finally found Solas, it was not in the old place where they used to talk; rather, it was outside Haven walls, a little ways away from the construction site. A camp was also visible nearby, the makeshift abodes of new Inquisition recruits.
"I guess they trust you enough to let you out beyond the gates now," Ahnnie joked to catch his attention. Then she immediately regretted it. That sounded like an insult.
But Solas smiled at her good-naturedly. "And I'm surprised they're trusting enough to let you out, considering what happened in the tavern."
She jolted. He knows!? As she scrambled to make a comprehensible reply, the hedge mage laughed.
"It is all right, da'len. It happens. Such is the double-sided nature of alcohol."
At this, she settled down. "Well, if you know so much about it, hahren," she began, "did you also know I wanted to ask if you could come with us to Val Royeaux?"
Solas arched an eyebrow at her use of the Elvish word. "Yes, I had heard. It was in connection to a more colorful statement that you made."
Her face reddened all over again, and not just from the cold.
"Since you so strongly insisted, I will come," Solas then said. "It has been some time since I've been to that city; both in the Fade, and in waking life."
"Oh? You've actually been before?"
He nodded. "I even entertained in the houses of several nobles." When her eyes widened, he explained, "For some Orlesians, it is a secret thrill to host a hedge mage in their homes. Though of course, they do not keep me for long."
Ahnnie opened her mouth, closed it, and shook her head. "Those damn Orlesians! They're so confusing."
"Even more surprises await you there, as you will no doubt discover." He gave her a gentle smile. "But enough on that. I thank you for your words on the elves, even if they were delivered a bit roughly. It gladdens me to hear that someone thinks as you do."
She never expected to hear it put that way. But now that she did, it made sense; Solas hated the plight of the elves, for he was an elf himself. It was so easy to forget that distinction because of how irrelevant his race was to him as a person. Just as it made no sense to judge based on skin color, it never crossed Ahnnie's mind to treat anyone based on the shape of their ears or their stature. But it was practically second nature to a majority of humans across Thedas. Meeting with such receptions everywhere one went must surely have been demoralizing.
"You're welcome," she replied, touched by his words. "I...I'm glad they made someone happy."
And so it was settled. Solas didn't hate her, and he was coming along to Val Royeaux.
Preparation, preparation, preparation – that was all their time seemed to be spent with: preparation.
This was no jaunt to the Hinterlands, after all. This was an actual diplomatic visit, to what was considered the center of civilization in Thedas. This held the same weight as an official visit to the Vatican. Mess it up, and it would ruin the Inquisition's chances for a long time to come.
A pity the time they had left was so short!
The trip was already a day away, and Ahnnie felt so unprepared every time she checked her baggage. Yes, she packed days ahead of time; she just had to. But something would be imperfect there, lacking here, and she would take it all out to do it over again. Even more stressful than the packing was Lady Josephine's many tips on diplomacy and the Grand Game, stored in that dreadful little notebook.
I never want to look at it again! Ahnnie cried as she tossed herself stomach-down onto her bed, burying her face in the pillow.
But then a moment later she got up to pack it away, satisfied that it was neatly tucked in between some clothes and therefore, out of her sight. Abhorrent though it was, she would need it where she was going.
After staring awhile to admire her handiwork, Ahnnie shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose. I need to get out of here, she thought. I need to look at something else other than that damn bag. Netta and the Singing Maiden instantly beckoned for her attention, and in response to that, Lady. Oh, yeah! Did she give birth yet? I haven't heard...
When she came to the tavern, the answer was no; but it would be soon, for the moment Netta showed her to Lady's stall, it was evident that the dog was already in the beginning stages of labor. The straw had been scratched and pawed up into a snug little nest, Lady herself was panting at twice the normal rate, and occasionally she would get up again to pace about the nest and adjust it wherever she thought it was lacking.
"Tonight, for sure," Ahnnie murmured, with conviction this time.
The lantern swung with the movement of the wind, creaking lightly at the hinges of the handle. Pale orange light danced upon the snow wherever the lantern swayed, its light too feeble for Ahnnie to illuminate her path in this building snowstorm, but that was not her purpose.
She snuck around in the darkness of Haven, heading right for the tavern, but not going straight to its doors. No, it was closed this time of night. She went around the tavern instead, heading for the side where she knew the stables were. Why she allowed herself to go at this hour, stealing about like a thief in the night, she couldn't comprehend. She only remembered that she couldn't sleep, and it was late when she was startled awake. But she had no desire to be elsewhere, for she had been struck with the sudden urge to witness Lady's birthing.
Tip-toeing quietly amongst the stalls, where the horses slept with soft nickers and breaths, Ahnnie's lantern was now put to better use. Its light seemed not so feeble anymore, but wasn't so bright that anyone looking in from the tavern could see her. Or so she hoped.
Even if she didn't know which stall it was, the smell and the sounds would have been enough to guide her. Though unpleasant, the smell was nostalgic to her: metallic and watery, almost like blood but not quite. She was taught from memory to register it differently because of the little bundles of joy whose arrival it heralded. And the sound, of course, was Lady's hammer-like panting.
Ahnnie approached the stall door and opened it quietly. She placed the lantern at her feet and slowly knelt down, watching Lady lying in the straw; the dog returned her gaze, tongue sticking out of her mouth and jerking merrily with each rapid breath. The human girl crept closer and stopped; closer, then stopped; and repeated this process until she was comfortably situated in a corner of the stall. Lady in the meantime had no objections to her presence. But when she attempted to stroke the dog's back, Lady growled before the hand could even touch the scraggly brown fur.
You can be here, but you're not to come any closer, was the message. Ahnnie sat back, a little startled but understanding nonetheless.
"At least you trust me this much," she said with a smile to the dog. Lady gave her a last round-eyed look before laying her head back down on the straw.
And then it came; without a noise, so that Ahnnie might have missed it if she weren't looking, a straw-colored fluid rushed from Lady's backside and into the straw bedding. Ahnnie straightened up in her seat so that she might get a clearer look. Shortly after the passing of the liquid, a dark, wet, circular mass began to push through the outer lips of the vulva. Lady's head rose again as she began to strain this dark mass out of her. Ahnnie fought the temptation to help, reminding herself that this wasn't Cixi, who trusted her more wholly than Lady did.
With a thick squelch, the little mass was expelled, wet and slimy and encased in a transparent sack of liquid with the umbilical cord sticking through. Lady's instincts kicked in, making her reach over to catch the sack in her teeth and chew it open to free the little puppy inside. Then she chewed on the umbilical cord, shortening it to a manageable length. A few seconds later, there was another squelch as a dark red blob passed through the vulva; the placenta, which Lady gulped up as soon as she could.
Ahnnie smiled as she remembered her little brother's face of disgust when he saw Cixi doing the same thing. She could almost hear his voice, yelling out that comical 'Eeeew!' before he ran downstairs to gag into the kitchen sink.
The first pup often seemed like the most doted upon, with the mother completely absorbing her attention with it, licking it dry and sniffing it, even rubbing her furry cheek against it. Meanwhile the squirming pup would utter a mewling cry and crawl like a blind little rat towards a teat, hungry and eager for milk. Then as its littermates came, the routine would become familiar and attention diverted equally amongst the pups. Ahnnie longed to hold the little velvety body, to look into the wrinkled, squinting face – so cute! – but refrained from doing so out of respect for Lady.
After the first pup was dried and suckling, Lady lay back down on the straw again. There would not be another pup for twenty minutes or even four hours. The effort had, no doubt, taken up much of her strength; she would need to rest up for the next one.
Ahnnie yawned and she, too, settled her head back into the wooden corner of the stall.
A sharp intake of excited breath. "Puppies!" came the childish squeal a moment later.
Ahnnie cracked open an eye and found dim sunlight filtering through the gloom of the stables. Beside her was a lantern, long since extinguished. With a groan, she stirred herself into a straighter position, and found an eager little face peering down from above her.
"Netta, hi," she greeted the little girl as she rubbed her eyes.
Netta giggled. "You don't look like a puppy, though. What are you doing here?"
"You spent the night here, your ladyship?" Nala asked incredulously, and Ahnnie's eyes quickly picked up her skinny form standing beside Netta.
Ahnnie looked about the stall. Lady was lying on her side, dozing; on her belly, three fat little pups were suckling from her teats. "Yeah, I guess I did," she affirmed at last. "Hey, Nala, you were right; it's three puppies!"
Once she had removed the lantern and her person from the stall did the girls start talking animatedly about the new arrivals. They huddled around the stall door, chatting in quiet voices to both set an example for Netta and to give Lady some peace and quiet.
"Are they boys? Are they girls?" Netta asked. "Oh, if there's a boy, I want to name it Charley!"
"Did you check their sex?" Nala then asked Ahnnie.
The drowsy human girl shook her head. "No, actually, Lady wouldn't let me get too close. Plus I was asleep while the last two came out."
"Maiden, if one is a girl!" Netta piped up from in between them.
"'Tis all right," Nala assured. "We will find out in a couple of weeks, when they can walk around. Hopefully, Lady will trust us with them by then."
Ahnnie felt a tiny pang of disappointment. I won't get to see them at that stage...I'll be in Val Royeaux, and I'm not yet sure for how long. Oh well. It wasn't as if she wasn't going to ever see them again. Then, remembering something, Ahnnie turned to Nala with purpose in her eyes. "Nala, while I'm away in Val Royeaux, you must promise me something."
The elven girl blinked. "Yes, my lady?"
"If, for some reason, there isn't enough food for Lady, I want you to take from the rations in my cabin to feed her. And if the pups are weaning by then, do the same thing. There should be enough to go around; I haven't had the chance to use them up yet."
Ahnnie held Nala's wrist in a firm grip at this point, startling the elf. So much so that her thin mouth was in an O. "My lady..."
"Nala." Ahnnie's tone grew fierce. "This isn't a question, it's an order."
There was a period of silence between them, which the startled elf broke a moment later. "I wasn't arguing with you, my lady. I was just surprised that they meant so much to you."
Oh. Now Ahnnie felt stupid. "Sorry," she apologized. "I didn't mean to sound harsh. But yes, in a way, they do." She looked back at the three wiggling forms in the straw and saw in her minds eye a line of nine of them; a puppy almost killed beneath his mother's weight, then saved in the nick of time by quick thinking; a puppy grown into a big dog and sent away to live in Tennessee.
She knew then that her heart had already adopted these three as its own. Turning back to Nala, she gave the elven girl a gentler smile. "Just promise me that, and I can go to Val Royeaux in peace."
"Yes, my lady, I promise you."
Relieved, Ahnnie gave the puppies one last glance before she left the stables. See you guys when I get back!
A/N: I heard about the Solas entertaining nobles thing in-game, but it was so long ago...if anyone has more info regarding this (or lack of it, if it's my memory makin' things up), don't hesitate to let me know.