Chapter 25

Sketches of Life - Part I

.

Kallian

Bath!

Bath, bath, bath, bath, bath!

Soap and water - for me, the current formula of happiness. I was feeling so good after a bath in the Chantry, even knowing that the water was so cold that it hurt to the bone. I wasn't feeling just well, but also lighter, younger, and even taller! Okay ... not exactly taller, but still ...!

Ahem.

When we arrived at the Chantry, we saw the main hall packed with wounded refugees scattered around the corners or being treated by the sisters. In the bottom, there was a giant statue – please, emphasis on giant - of Andraste, made of basalt and granite with a marble base. What? Just because I lived most of my life within the Alienage didn't mean that I couldn't know some stuff. I'm not just a rowdy girl, as everyone thinks. Sometimes, when I couldn't sleep, I snuck out of my house, broke into the Denerim library and stayed there, reading until the early hours of the dawn. This, of course, was after I finally passed the phase of being afraid to walk alone after waking from my nightmares, which took at least a couple of years to happen.

Stones and books aside, her statue, which was supposed to offer comfort, only it caused me exactly the opposite - resentment, anxiety, restlessness ... Even a bit of anger. Here, at the foot of the statue, while Leliana and the others spoke with the Revered Mother and received her blessing, or whatever it was, I couldn't do anything but to look at Andraste's serene features. Yes, I moved away from them when I realized that their conversation was taking this course.

There was a time when I had my faith, my beliefs and also some candles in my window asking for protection, but each day that had passed, the more I became convinced that I was wasting my time with something that simply didn't exist. The episode that caused my departure from Denerim definitely broke the thin line that still connected me with my faith, establishing, once for all, the gulf that now exists between us.

I'm not being dramatic or exaggerating - I just couldn't call upon the name of the Maker. I couldn't believe that if I kept asking for something, it would become reality someday. I couldn't, not anymore. I was tired… Tired of everything - the nightmares, all the pressure, all the expectation, all the pain ...

I heard Shaw-Shaw whimpering softly beside me. When I looked down, he was sitting next to my feet, staring at me with those big violet eyes that were more expressive than many people I know, I smiled. I scratched his ear slowly, trying to calm him, but the only result was that he layed down on my feet. I think his own way to tell me that he was with me. Crazy, huh? But I prefer to think of it that way.

With a sigh, I turned my attention back to the statue.

Leliana ... This enigmatic and totally crazy person that was now part of our group, entered the church with a sincere, touching smile, whispering silent thanks to Andraste as we passed through the Hall. You could see, without even knowing her, that this whole atmosphere was good for her, and that her, well, faith, really came from the bottom of her heart. But I repeat: There, standing beneath that statue of granite and basalt, all I felt was the emptiness that the company of a cold and soulless figure could give me. While she was grateful, all I wanted to ask this mysterious entity was... "Why me?"

She came to me later, saying we could stay, and that the two empty rooms upstairs would be ours for the night. And of course, they caught me staring at the damned statue - I was so lost in my thoughts again that I was oblivious to the rest of the world, just like a daydreaming child. Except maybe for the fact that I wasn't exactly dreaming…

Whatever!

"Is anything wrong? You seem to be uneasy about something..." Leliana asked, staring at me with those big blue eyes. Sometimes it seemed that she was one of those puppy dogs who were always happy, no matter the hour of the day. If I didn't have so much to worry about, I would probably be affected by her positive energy.

"Her ugly face is normal," Noah muttered, crossing his arms with his best sarcastic expression. If this was his payback for the flying sword thing? I would change my name if it wasn't. "Get used to it."

I heard a muffled aggressive growl coming from Alistair's throat, but he said nothing. Actually, he… was avoiding looking at me.

"Now, don't be evil, Noah…" Leliana said, approaching the statue with adoration written all over her face. I could almost see her eyes sparkling when she touched the feet of the prophet. "You had such a worried countenance that I thought something might have happened. But I'm sure that Andraste, in her endless benevolence and charity, will intercede for you when you pray to the Maker, if your intentions are pure.

By the Void! I swear, I almost stayed quiet. Almost. I was willing to bite my tongue to not be rude to her, but when you're not in the mood to talk about religion, it means that you're not in the mood to talk about religion. Simple as that.

"I'm not used to talking with statues," I replied, taking a step backward. Who didn't like that at all was Shaw, who hit his head on the floor when I took my foot from under him. He glared at me, as if I had stolen the best meat out of his mouth. "Sorry, boy..." I whispered to him, and he snorted in dissatisfaction before sitting down next to me again.

When Leliana spoke again, Shaw went to watch her in a quite intriguing way, but I decided to ignore it for now.

"Oh, but it's not about the statue. Andraste's grace is present in all things, in all places, and her goodness knows no bounds."

"Leliana ..." I rubbed my temple emphatically, fighting the urge to leave the Chantry and try my luck in the storm. I meant it when I said that I was tired of everything. Shaw-Shaw then gave a muffled bark, drawing Leliana's attention to him before she could say anything else.

I love that dog so damn much.

"What's with him?" Leliana asked, taking two steps backwards, visibly frightened.

"He wants to bite you," Noah teased, looking really pleased as he watched her jumping in her place, startled.

Again, I almost stayed quiet. "The first thing you should know about us is that a great part of what comes out of Grumpy's mouth should be ignored," I said, and my greatest pleasure was to receive that angry look, which represented very well how close I was to feeling the weight of his flying sword right on my head.

I amused myself with the little things.

"So... He won't bite me?" she asked, still suspicious.

"No, he will not," I said, trying to reassure her. Although it was funny to see someone like her, that could fight bandits with no fear, being so apprehensive around my little dog, I couldn't be complicit in this dirty game. Shaw-shaw was a good dog, despite his genius. Besides, I knew that expression very well - it had been held deeply in my memory since I first met him. "He wants your permission."

"I don't get it... Permission?" Leliana looked at me, confused. What could I do? It seemed stupid, but it was true. He wanted to know if he could be, well, a dog around her.

I was about to open my mouth to answer, but Noah interrupted me, "Second thing you should know about us is that great part of what comes out from the elf's mouth should be ignored." He started to walk toward the stairs, probably to our new rooms, passing by my side and letting out a trail of "vengeance accomplished" feeling wherever he walked. He gave me a last sarcastic look before climbing the stairs.

"Screw you!" I growled, and he just threw his head back laughing before vanishing from my sight.

When I turned my attention to the group again, Shaw-shaw was already jammed between Leliana's legs, wagging his tail happily, while the sister laughed at his excitement. I took that as my cue to leave. I didn't want to risk getting involved in a deeper conversation about religion again. The day was long, tiring, my wrist was throbbing because of the earlier fight and my patience was growing increasingly thin. As much as I was trying to maintain control, it was hard - I needed some time to organize my thoughts, and time wasn't exactly what we had.

Before climbing the stairs, I unconsciously searched for Alistair, and when I found him, the view wasn't pleasant. He was looking at me, perhaps for the first time since I ... He ... And what I saw didn't make me feel better. His gaze was so intense, so heavy and overloaded with angst, such strong emotions that I felt a huge emptiness deep in my stomach, followed by an uncontrollable urge to go to him for ... for ... I don't know, to do something, anything that would dispel the anguish from his eyes and soothe his heart ... And mine too.

It took a while for him to realize that I'd caught him staring, and immediately he regretted it, because in the next moment, his back was already turned to me, suddenly interested in the details of the feet of Andraste's statue.

That was the last time I saw him that day.

- x -

Hours passed, and the storm finally fell mercilessly upon us, blowing against the walls and making the wooden doors creak. It was almost midnight, but I was still awake, lying on my new bedroll, watching the lightings cross the sky through the glass window. Leliana and Mahariel were sleeping in their own improvised beds, each in a corner of the room, so comfortably that I felt a twinge of envy over their tranquility. For once, I couldn't sleep. The thunder flashes were perfect for tricking my imagination, but that wasn't the only thing that was bothering my troubled mind.

Don't get me wrong, I was more than grateful to be sleeping in a warm bedroll, away from the hard ground and under a roof. Demons aside, I was bothered by another important matter.

You're wrong!

Alistair's words echoed in my mind constantly, back and forth between my thoughts, until it became the only thing I could think about. I was feeling horrible. In fact, it was as if there was guilt running through my veins instead of blood. I could feel the chills running down my spine every time I remembered the cold and empty look, full of resentment and the pain on his face.

You defended me, I defended you ... That's what the Grey Wardens do - they take care of each other.

As I lay there, I was moving my pendant between my fingers above my head. The blackened blood of Darkspawn moved from one side to the other within the small crystal container, just like the waves probably moved against the shore. I was a Grey Warden now... Things had changed. I had to get used to it. Incidentally, I still have to get used to so many things ...

We're in this together - you can count on me, always.

I could complain all I wanted, but I could never contest his words - It was exactly what he did. I know I said we were fine, but I never really let go of my suspicions and my traumas when it came to humans. I let them influence me, guide my actions and I knew that sooner or later it would bring me consequences. But what could I do? I knew I must control myself, keep my feelings and my anger lest it wouldn't influence my mission or disturb my judgment, but my personal impressions always seemed to rule my choices... And I guess they always will.

I know you're suspicious of me, but ... I think we get along sometimes ...

Half the time I suspect him, and the other half I don't. Both feelings were so tied together that it was hard to distinguish which was predominant. On the one side, there was all I knew about him - the partnership, the protectiveness, the caring… On the other, there was all I knew about humans - the cruelty, the wickedness, the barbarism ...

The truth is that you seem to be a good person.

Maybe that's exactly the problem. Person. In everything he did, in every look, in every... touch ... I'd never been an elf in his eyes. Not even once. I acted exactly as I expected him to act - I considered what he was and judged him as if he was the one to blame for all the evil that fell upon the elves. Upon myself.

I'm not like them!

I threw all the weight of the deeds of an entire race upon a single person, whose only mistake was to want my friendship. It was more than time for me to stop being such a racist bitch and start seeing him as a person, rather than a human, and judge him by who he was.

Me neither, but I care!

That made two of us… because I just found out that I cared, too.

So with a swift movement, being completely overrun by this new feeling, which was a mixture of determination with something else, I got up from my bedroll at once, leaving the room silently.

Kallian crossed the long corridor with light, quick steps, going into the boys' room. Her determination, however, failed her when she reached the door, her hand raised and ready to knock. She was willing to clarify everything, but she did not know exactly what to do. What to say. How would she explain her presence here, in the middle of the night?

Noah would certainly pester her for the rest of her life. And also... Would he agree to talk to her? At this time of night? Was he asleep already?

Of course he is sleeping! She thought, leaning both hands on the door frame, then lowering her head.

What am I doing? She wondered, realizing that she was not wearing any armor or carrying her weapons. None of them. Kallian knew that she should never walk around without them, and soon it all began to sound stupid. Defeated, she lowered her arms and sighed deeply, slowly running her hand over her face as if she was wiping the sweat from her forehead, before marching back to her room. This matter would have to wait until tomorrow morning to be resolved.

Again, she paused before crossing the threshold. She was restless, still shaken by her sudden resolution, and deep down she knew she would not be able to fall asleep. Determined, she entered the room quietly, grabbed her sketchbook and left again, crossing the aisle toward the other wing of the second floor - more precisely to the library, which had a modest balcony whose doors were made of glass.

She might not have time to put her thoughts in order, but she was sure that a few hours contemplating the storm could bring some of the peace that her heart needed so much.

- x -

When she saw him, her heart stopped.

She was psychologically prepared to have a whole night to rehearse her speech before meeting with him.

"Alistair..." She called, but her voice was completely drowned out by the loud thunder that cut the sky, causing the windows on her left to shake considerably. Once she'd turned down one of the corridors of the Wing of the library, there he was, with no armor or weapons, making the reverse path back to his room.

Since he'd taken a well-deserved shower and prepared his new armor, Alistair spent his free time in the library, reading some of the few books on magic that were lost among all those sacred writings. He was avoiding everyone for different reasons, but mainly because he wanted some time alone. He needed to think - his head was so full that he had read a small booklet of a hundred pages twice and leave the library without knowing exactly what it was about.

He was fulfilling her wish, after all. Kallian didn't trust humans, that was clear to him, and he'd been happy that she finally seemed to have given him a chance. How wrong he was... She didn't want him around, that was obvious. If they were together, it was because they needed to be, not because she liked it. It was not her choice. So that would be over - if she really thought so badly of him, he would leave her alone, as she wanted.

What hurt him the most was that she let him grow close to her, only to cut him from her life. He liked to have the little elf around - her friendship made him feel good and he enjoyed her company. But then...

For long minutes they were face-to-face, one at each end of the short hallway, just looking at each other in silence. After a long sigh, he resumed his walk, passing her without looking her in the eyes. It was not only because she had compared him with a gang of disgusting rapists, but because of the analogy behind it - he'd offered himself to her, and she not only rejected his trust, but also showed that, in the end, she did not cared about him. Nobody ever cared.

"Wait," called Kallian, before he could make the turn. He stopped, resting one hand on the wall before looking at her. "Can we talk?" Yes, talk. It was what she wanted to do, although she didn't know how she would proceed. She had to stop him from leaving at all costs, not only because she knew her mind would not be at peace until she talked to him, but because this was probably the only chance that they would have to be alone for a while.

"Kallian, look I..." His voice was tired, defeated, sad to say the least, and it made her feel worse.

"Please," she begged, not bothering to hide the emotion shining in her eyes. Her intentions were true, and she wanted to make it clear to him that she wasn't looking for an argument. Sighing heavily again, he turned to face her, leaning one of his shoulders against the wall.

"Kallian," he said, closing his eyes, perhaps to prevent his own emotions from giving him away. "I'm tired. I did everything to try to prove you wrong. I tried everything to show you the kind of person I am, but in the end, it became clear to me that you don't want me around. It didn't matter how much I tried, you had a vision of me that I now know will never change. "

When he opened his eyes again, he saw the grief-filled expression on the face of the little elf, and nearly didn't swallow his words, but they couldn't be held in his chest any longer. She opened her mouth to speak, but he raised his hand, asking her to listen until very the end. If he stopped now, he would probably keep it to himself forever.

"When I cared, you said it was none of my business. When I tried to help, you said you did not need me. When I defended you, you made it clear that there was no difference between me and those who tried to hurt you. " Alistair looked away, heading towards one of the windows and putting his back to her. The wind threw raindrops against the glass, cracking and scratching like stones ready to break the material at any moment. Kallian remained silent, letting him talk without further interruption. They were truths, harsh words that had come from her own mouth that she hadn't known would hurt him so deeply. It was true that she wanted him to stay away at first, but after a while she'd wanted the exact opposite - only her stubbornness and her prejudice had prevented her from seeing the truth.

His voice faltered a little when he finally finished his confession, but it was still filled with all the feelings that he needed to let out, "I'll do what you want - from now on, I'll be out of your way."

Kallian took a deep breath before answering. She didn't want him out of her way. "Alistair, you don't understand ..."

"Then make me understand!" He exclaimed, punching the window frame with both hands. Another lightning slashed the sky closer than the previous one, but he didn't seem to mind.

"It's hard for me to call you friend," she confessed, leaning against the opposite wall. "As much as I want to, I can't..."

Realizing her low voice, he asked with less intensity, but firmly, "Why?"

"You know what happened to my people, I'm sure. Actually, you know what happens to my people, don't you?" Kallian asked quietly, staring at the faded red carpet that covered the hallway.

"All I know is..." He began, turning and facing her, leaning against the opposite wall. "Humans enslaved the Dalish, taking away their lands and their magic." Kallian nodded, still staring at the ground. "But that was many centuries ago."

"But the effects still remain today. I'm sure that you know what the elves had to endure living in the Alienages ..."

"Kallian, I lived inside the Chantry until I was eleven," he said, confused for judging necessary it to reveal part of his past to her. He had not planned to talk about his personal life, but the effect that Kallian had on him was stronger than all of his senses put together. Even upset, he still felt he could talk to her about anything. "The only thing I know about the elves is that they want to recover their past."

"The Dalish seek," said Kallian between her teeth, hugging her sketchbook. She could have been upset because of this habit of humans, in general, for being oblivious to everything that wasn't related to them, but she didn't blame him. She herself didn't know much of the history of other races. "I don't share that desire."

"That doesn't make much sense..." Alistair said, crossing his arms. Although he was more at ease in her presence, he was still tense - he could feel the muscles in his neck aching, so much so that it was difficult to turn his head.

"The Dalish hope for a miracle. They attempt to seek the solution to their problems in a past that no longer exists. In the end, when they realize that the glory they hope for will not come back to save them from their inertia, it will be too late and they will finally know that they have passed through their whole lives without actually having lived one single day, "sighed Kallian. "They don't fight. The city elves don't fight. No one fights and thus, the cycle of hate and oppression continues, and my people keep suffering from slavery, rape, submission, death ..."

"I'm sorry..." Alistair whispered, starting to feel bad about what he had just heard. Apparently, what he had learned of the elves was completely different from reality. Gradually, he began to understand some of her distrust but, despite this, his mind kept betraying him, showing a flurry of flashes about a possible past to justify her extreme caution - one worse than the other - he wasn't convinced yet. "But Kallian, all of this has nothing to do with me."

Kallian sighed again, feeling stupid for arguing against the obvious. Of course this wasn't about him. Wasn't this exactly the conclusion she'd reached when she had decided to go after him? Yet it was impossible to separate one from the other completely.

"Yes, it has, Alistair, and always will have ..." She whispered, looking away. It was hard to find the balance between what her mind wanted to say and what her heart wanted to do.

"Right." He sighed sadly, using all his strength to push off the wall and go back to his room without looking back. She had made a choice, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Seeing him retreating again, she exclaimed, "Please, don't leave me!" Kallian admitted it, and was at once surprised to be able to confess it out loud. It was what she needed to say, and exactly what he needed to hear to make his overwhelming desire to get out of her sight disappear. Alistair stopped in the middle of the hallway, staring at the little elf with his eyes slightly wide. As much as he wanted to hear those words coming out of her mouth, he never imagined that it would actually happen. "Come with me ..." she said to him.

"Where?" he asked, still surprised, following the little elf through the dark hallway. All the tension in his body was dissipating quickly, as if Kallian's words had some sort of magical power over him. Now, more than ever, he was curious to know what she would say, what she wanted to do... But the truth was that he didn't care about the outcome - just knowing that she didn't reject him like everyone else did, that she liked having him around… it was more than he could have expected.

After all, for someone as difficult as Kallian, she would never say it if it weren't true, right?

Kallian didn't answer - just sighed, relieved when she heard the footsteps of the Templar following her in the hallway. Maybe her expectations were too great for her to be able to hear his question, but still, Alistair saw no need to ask it again.

He didn't care - as long as he could stay with her, he knew he would go anywhere.