The Names We're Given
Chapter 3: Band of Misfits
by Dreamer In Silico
Lothering
They were on their way out of the village, supplies in hand, when they saw the cage.
Its listless occupant was slow to react to their horrified curiosity, but when they did not move on, he turned a silently arresting glare upon them.
"Maker…" Alistair swore under his breath. "Is that one of the qunari?"
Mei nodded. The towering stature and backswept horns were distinctive; she'd only ever read of qunari in books, but it was hard to mistake them for anything else in Thedas. This one was glaring at them fiercely, but silently from within the cage as they discussed him, as if to maintain some last shred of dignity despite his circumstances. Somehow, that only whetted the jagged edge of outrage the sight provoked – she had seen enough of cages to last three lifetimes.
" 'Tis a disgrace, to confine one such as he," Morrigan said darkly, echoing Mei's thoughts.
Mei had been biting at her lip, wanting to yell, wanting to turn straight back into Lothering and blast the guards to smithereens, but Morrigan's words gave her a leash to her fury. "What is your name?" she addressed the caged qunari, voice tight.
"It does not matter. The darkspawn are coming," he said in a voice like bedrock.
"Even so. If you'll not tell me that, who put you in this… thing?"
This, he answered, dispassionate and tired-sounding. "It was ordered by the elder Chantry woman."
"The Reverend Mother," Alistair said, as if to himself, frowning. "Why would she order such a thing? There must have been a reason."
"A reason?" Mei snarled, incensed. The Chantry was all too fond of chains. "A reason to put him in a cage and leave him out as an offering for the darkspawn? May the moon light her corpse."
"It'd have certainly been kinder to kill him, whatever he did." the warrior murmured.
"The qunari killed an entire crofter family," a lilting voice sounded from the shadows of the nearby barn. None of the three had noted the woman's approach, and Mei turned to face her, tensed for conflict. She did not like being sneaked up on.
The stranger wore roughspun Chantry robes, her bright copper hair glinting in the late afternoon sunlight as she stepped forward to greet them.
Mei scowled at the woman. "And? If a human had done such a thing, he would have been kept under guard until a trial could be convened, or in times like these, perhaps simply executed. But he would not be standing in a cage on the village outskirts, defenseless and waiting for the darkspawn to come!"
The human bowed her head slightly. "Fear drives people to brutality when they might otherwise be merciful. I do not condone it."
Pretty words, when no responsibility is taken. Mei crossed her arms and cut to the chase. "Then why are you here?"
"I know who you – "
"Stop." Alistair held a sudden hand up, staring hard beyond the Chantry sister, and she paused. "This looks like it could get unpleasant very quickly… not that it was particularly pleasant before, of course. We've got company."
A cadre of hardbitten men were approaching, two with bows on their backs peeling off from the main group to go wide and circle them. Morrigan turned to track their progress warily, bearing no small resemblance to her wolf form in that moment.
The leader of the band stopped several paces away from them and addressed Alistair with his hand on his sword pommel. "You lot put down your weapons slowly. We've got you covered; don't try anything funny."
"Gentlemen," the Chantry woman chided. "These travelers have already had enough difficulties. They are simply passing through. Whoever it is you're – "
"Can it, sister," he interrupted. "It's hard to miss a knight and an elf, I know what I'm about. Teyrn Loghain wants their heads… attached, or not – it doesn't much matter."
Alistair's eyes flicked to Mei's. She blinked at him slowly in acknowledgment – this wasn't an ideal place to fight, but Morrigan would handle the archers and Mei could slam a shield up before too much got through. Alistair shifted his weight forward subtly to place himself more fully between her and the bowmen, a movement she noted with reserved respect. His splint mail would afford some protection from arrows, whereas any one that found Mei would likely drop her. She hoped fervently that Morrigan hadn't registered as a mage to them, yet, for she would be exposed until –
"Well, on that account I'm afraid we'll have to disappoint him," Alistair muttered, as the shield sprang up.
The expected arrows came almost immediately, but lost their momentum as they passed through the shimmering barrier of energy, and Mei whirled into action. She had a freezing spell off against the mercenary captain before he could even fully draw his sword, and she and Alistair fell back to be better able to guard Morrigan, who had soundly removed any ambiguity about her status as a mage with a lightning bolt sent arcing toward the archers moments before.
The mabari, whom Mei had called Llorc, dodged amidst their feet, diving for unprotected hamstrings as the rest of the company closed in. Mei spent half a moment's wondering on what the Chantry sister was doing, but dismissed the thought of trying to shield the human woman as well – she was as likely an enemy as not, and Mei owed her nothing.
Fighting shoulder-to-shoulder with Alistair was awkward – he was all ponderous power and defense, she a bladed whirlwind who relied on speed and mobility to protect her – an unfortunate necessity thanks to the close quarters, and one she could manage. The mercenaries were poorly-equipped, but possessed enough cohesion to make things difficult. Keeping them away from Morrigan as she picked off their ranks was no small task, tactically disadvantaged as they were.
With the archers at their flank down, Mei let the shield fall to focus instead on assisting with offense, running one man through on her main-hand sword and catching a second with a well-timed blast of frost to the eyes. When her eyes swept across the scene for another opening, she glimpsed movement in the shadows of the buildings…
…and the shape fell, suddenly, into the light, revealing another archer that had managed take up position on their right flank without being noticed. His bow fell from slack hands; his throat had been slashed swiftly from behind, and the strange Chantry sister in her bright robes was left standing in his place. Mei twisted and dodged as another opponent engaged, her attention necessarily yanked back to the melee.
At least two more of the men were distracted or felled by fiendishly accurate, thrown knives as the skirmish went on. When the last mercenary gurgled his lifeblood out on the ground, Mei hunched over her knees for a long moment to allow the flow of adrenaline and her ragged breathing to slow. She was fit in her own right, but the magic she used to augment her strength and speed never failed to make her feel like her bones had turned to jelly when it stopped.
The elf looked up, and the copper-haired stranger was calmly cleaning a knife. "You," Mei panted, "are no priest."
"Not a dedicated sister, no – I am a lay sister, and we take no vows. My name is Leliana, and I have heard of the recent events in Ostagar," she offered. Her accent, now that Mei had time to think about it, reminded her of a mage from Orlais who had visited the Circle long ago.
"Which version?" Alistair asked, suspicion competing with wryness in his tone.
Leliana was serene as she answered. "The one from an injured soldier who escaped the rout of Cailan's forces after the teyrn's betrayal. She died of wound fever shortly after she and what was left of her company stumbled into the town, a few days ago. I know who you are, and what is at stake, which is why I'm coming with you on your journey."
"A Chantry milksop is the last thing we need in this little band," Morrigan opined. "Alistair already fills that role amply."
The ex-templar ignored her, instead giving the sister an incredulous stare. He broke it off to glance toward Mei, but she only watched the human woman in silence. "Look… " he began. "We, erm… appreciate your support, but I really don't think we can afford to watch out for you…"
Leliana tossed the now-shining dagger in a tight twirl and caught it deftly by the handle without ever taking her sharp eyes from Alistair's. "I have been many places, and learned many skills before coming here. I can handle myself, as I think you surely must have seen only minutes ago."
"We're the last Grey Wardens in Ferelden, facing down a Blight. Any skills aside, why in the Maker's name do you want to come with us?" he returned, exasperated.
"I had a dream, a… vision. From the Maker, of the Blight, and the last hope against it. I can do very little here, in this place, to make things better, but if I come with you… I can help you. Aside from fighting, I know the ways of courts and nobles, the things that are whispered beneath the constant thread of pleasant pageantry. You will need that knowledge if you are to gain support and rally a fractured nation against such a threat." Her clear blue eyes were intent, her voice earnest. The talk of visions made Mei's skin crawl, but in pragmatism…
"You know that Alistair and I are Grey Wardens. You fought with us, so you must surely know what Morrigan and I are, as well," Mei said, abruptly. She asked the necessary question point-blank. "You are a Chantry sister. Can you stomach the company of apostates?" She forced her voice to neutrality, keeping the edge of the underlying implications out of her inflection. Better to hear the answer without the question having been perceived as the threat it was.
She heard Morrigan shift behind her, and she knew that the witch had heard what she hadn't said, and was readying herself to act should the answer be the wrong one.
Leliana turned to meet Mei's gaze without surprise or guile. "Your goal is my own. My sisters and brothers in the Chantry often forget that Andraste herself was a mage, and that it is mortal fear rather than her teachings that mandates their confinement to the Circles. You need fear nothing from me for being what you are."
It was a rare enough attitude among Chantry devotees to make it slightly suspect, but on the other hand, the dogmatic ones weren't apt to even think of making such apologies in the first place, even in subterfuge. And she might go a long way toward preventing run-ins with overzealous templars in the future , even if her claims are overstated, Mei thought, watched her for a long moment. At length, she gave a single, decisive nod.
"We are rather woefully short on allies, at the moment. Your aid would be welcome."
Their camp, when they stopped for the night well-away from Lothering, felt positively crowded.
Mei hadn't been willing to just leave the qunari, who they eventually learned was called Sten, in the cage to wait for the darkspawn horde to arrive, so Leliana and Alistair had returned to the town to treat with the Reverend Mother for his release. Sten had agreed to accompany the party and lend his (rather impressively powerful) sword arm to their cause, though he did not seem glad or grateful that he might live at least a bit longer. He merely stepped out of the cage and followed them in silence, collecting a battleaxe from one of the dead mercenaries and carrying it like it weighed nothing at all. His taciturn dourness outmatched even Morrigan's, for at least the Wildswoman was apt to provide the occasional amusing – if edged – piece of commentary.
Alistair's impulsive charge to aid a beleaguered pair of dwarves who had been set upon by bandits had added a merchant and his son to their rag-tag retinue – Bodahn Feddic had driven his wagon into their camp as they were setting up tents and simply announced that he would be following them along as their travels permitted. Mei wasn't minded to protest much, since the merchant had assured her that he and Sandal would see to their own supplies as well as provide their wares to the party at a discount.
Setting to the task of preparing food, Mei was shortly joined by Leliana, who offered her help beside the fire. The human woman was now clad in worn but well-fitted leather armor that she had collected from her quarters in the Chantry, and moved like one far more at-home in the practical garment than in her clerical robes. Mei accepted the aid with a nod and a small, tired smile.
Leliana was silent for several minutes as they worked, perhaps picking up on Mei's lack of interest in conversation, but it was clear in the glances she kept flicking the mage's way that there were words on the tip of her tongue.
"You have questions, I suppose?" Mei asked, finally.
She smiled. "I have a lot of questions, actually, but I'll try not to pour them all on you at once. I'm dreadfully curious, but you look like you're about to fall over where you stand."
"That's… fairly accurate, but I'll do what I can," Mei murmured, poking at the coals with a long branch.
"How did you and Alistair escape the rout? I heard that all the Grey Wardens were right in the thick of things, on the front lines." She cocked her coppery head like a bird as she regarded Mei.
"Most were," Mei allowed. "The king requested a pair of Wardens be sent to make sure a signal fire was lit on the top of a tower to call in Loghain's flanking assault, and that was Alistair and me, since we were the newest."
"But I heard that all of Ostagar was overrun by the darkspawn. Did you fight your way out?"
Mei smiled wryly. "No, the darkspawn were there, in force, and… well, I was unconscious for it, as was Alistair, but what we were told about our rescue is a little… odd."
Leliana's eyes lit with interest. "Oh? This, I must hear."
"We came to at Morrigan's mother's hut in the Wilds. Morrigan told us that her mother had 'turned into a giant bird and plucked us from the tower.' I'm… not quite sure what to make of it. She's a shapeshifter, herself, so I assume her mother may well be, but still…" She trailed off, dubious.
"You must admit, it makes a good story," Leliana said, sounding pleased by this.
"I suppose it does, at that. What else do you want to know?"
"Well, aside from a whole set of questions which, I'm afraid, would be tremendously nosy of me seeing as I've only just met you… I will settle for 'where are we headed?'" she asked brightly.
Mei sighed. She suspected she could get to like Leliana, but the woman's… irrepressibility… was already getting exhausting. And she hated herself a little, for that thought, because once she had found that same peculiar sort of vivacity energizing, exciting, delightful. Would it ever stop hurting to remember?
"Redcliff. Alistair knows the Arl there, and we're going to need some sort of political support in this, and sooner rather than later."
"Hmm. That seems reasonable to me. I do not know anything of the Arl of Redcliff, probably because he wasn't heavily involved in trade with…" Leliana trailed off, as if speaking to herself.
"Orlais?" Mei finished for her.
The human looked up in surprise from the herbs she was chopping. "Yes. How did you know? I have not met many Fereldans who can place my accent, at least not this deep in the country."
"There was a visiting mage in the Circle, once, who had a thicker version. And my – " her voice hitched "- another apprentice with Orlesian family mimicked it for months afterward."
"Ahh, I see. Well, then." Leliana gave her a shrewd look, but continued. "My mother was Fereldan, but she worked for an Orlesian noblewoman, and followed her to Orlais after the occupation ended. I grew up there."
"And is that where you learned your skill with weapons?" Mei asked.
Leliana trilled a soft laugh. "It is where I learned most things, yes. Music, how to look after a lady's needs at court…"
"Music?"
"Oh yes. I have always loved to play and sing… and I know a fair handful of instruments."
At that point, Alistair flopped down on a log near the fire with his sword and a whetstone. "Maybe we should sing to the darkspawn… put them to sleep! Or in a better mood. Or something." He ran a hand through his short-cropped hair. "Well, you ladies should, perhaps. I'd make a mess of that, I'm sure."
"I doubt I'd be much better," Mei demurred, faintly irritated. "I could play my flute at them, I suppose, but unless I figure out how to do that without using my hands…"
"You play?" Leliana asked with interest. "That's wonderful! You will show us later, I hope?"
"…Perhaps," Mei said with a suppressed sigh. All she wanted in the world, at that moment, was to curl into her tent and sleep. The darkness was cool and impersonal, fundamentally undemanding… and even the Blight dreams weren't so bad. The Archdemon wasn't much of one for polite conversation, and that was just fine with Mei.
A/N: Sten has horns in TNWG-verse since they pretty solidly nailed down Kossith design after DA:O.