We entered the inn to find it alive with activity, full of conversation and laughter and the clinking of glasses. There was no cliche record-scratch moment, no sudden silence, no break in the conversation around us or hostile stares. Nobody seemed to pay much attention to our arrival at all.
We approached the bar, and the barmaid smiled warmly at each of us in turn. The corners of my mouth twitched in response, but I couldn't manage a genuine smile. I was far too on edge.
"Welcome, strangers." She beamed. "My name is Henrietta. How can I be of service to you?"
"Good evening, Henrietta." Grayson grinned. "We're looking for some rooms for a few nights. We were told you might be able to accomodate us."
"I see." She replied. "Well, we don't have much space here. We don't get many people passing through, you see. But I do have a couple of empty rooms upstairs that you would be welcome to."
"Thank you." Grayson smiled, politely. "How much do you charge?"
"How much?" She asked, cocking her head to the side. "Well, we don't have much need of coin here in Haven. We trade in goods and service. But you look like strong lads. I've a leaky roof upstairs that needs mending and a rat problem in the cellar. If you were willing to lend a hand, it would buy you a roof for a couple of nights and a few good meals for you and your women."
Morrigan and I immediately opened our mouths to protest this characterisation, but I caught myself in time and silenced Morrigan with a sharp elbow and a meaningful look. If the villagers thought that we were just "their women", that could serve us well later. If we were going to do some sneaking around, it would pay for us to be perceived as non-threatening.
"That sounds fair." Grayson agreed. "We're also looking for someone. A man by the name of Brother Genitivi. We know he was on his way to Haven. Have you heard of him?"
I narrowed my eyes, studying the woman's face for any sign of deception when she answered.
"Brother Genitivi? Well, yes. He's at the Chantry." She replied, nonchalantly.
"What?" I breathed, frowning. "He's here?"
"He arrived some time ago." She said, conversationally, as she busied herself with cleaning a glass. "Poor blighter. He's been struck down by illness. Little wonder, a man of his years journeying through this weather."
"What kind of illness?" I asked, suspiciously.
"I couldn't say, milady. I'm no healer. We do what we can for him, but I'll be surprised if he lasts 'till week's end."
"Where is the Chantry?" Grayson asked, urgently.
"The Brother is resting at the moment." She replied. "He tires easily. The sickness has taken its toll on him."
"I understand, but it's very important that we speak with him." Grayson insisted.
"You won't get much out of him, I'm afraid." She said, sadly. "I'm afraid whatever ails him seems to have driven him quite mad. He has been in a state of delirium for several days now."
"Perfect. That's perfect." Alistair drawled.
"Still…" Grayson started to argue, but she waved him off.
"If you insist on seeing him, I will show you to the Chantry in the morning. For now, he needs all of the rest he can get." Henrietta said, sternly, with an air of finality. "And besides. It's growing dark outside. Curfew will begin soon."
"Curfew?" I asked, quizzically. "This seems like a peaceful place. Why would a small, mountain village have any need of a curfew?"
"Wolves." She replied, shortly. "We've been plagued by them in recent months. Something has driven them up from the lowlands. We lost many sheep and some fine men to the packs before Revered Father Eirik placed a curfew on the village. No one is to venture out after dark."
"They'll be fleeing the blight, no doubt." Alistair muttered.
"And who enforces this curfew?" I asked. "Do you have guardsmen? Militia?"
"The wolves enforce it." She replied, irritably. "It is only for our protection."
"Wait, did you say Revered Father?" Alistair asked, frowning in confusion. "I thought all priests were women."
"We have always had a Revered Father in Haven." She said, shortly, clearly losing her patience with all of our questions. "That is our tradition, and we do not question it. Now, if you'd like to take a seat, I'll bring you four bowls of rabbit stew and some ale to warm your bones. Then I'll show you to your rooms."
We found a table in the corner of the room, and I sat with my back to the wall, surveying the gathered villagers. Sure enough, they started to leave in small groups, making their way to their respective homes just before nightfall.
Everything about this place gave me the creeps. The villagers may have all seemed more or less normal, but I was under the distinct impression that it was performative. I may have some inherent biases, but something definitely wasn't right. And somehow, I wasn't buying the line that Genitivi had just happened to fall sick with some mysterious illness. I had no doubt he was suffering from something, but I was almost certain that whatever it was, it was no coincidence.
When Henrietta brought us our bowls of rabbit stew, I ignored the rumble of hunger in my gut, frowning down at my food, wondering if Genitivi had eaten something similar right before he fell "ill".
"Wait. All of you." I hissed as Grayson brought his bowl to his lips, glancing over to check that Henrietta was out of earshot.
"What's the matter?" He asked, frowning.
"We've been travelling with an assassin for quite a while now, so I might just be paranoid but...bear with me. Zevran told me that one sure-fire way of detecting poisons in food is to offer it to a Mabari. If he eats it, it's safe. If he doesn't, it's not. If Khan doesn't eat, we don't eat."
"What?" Alistair asked, through a mouthful of stew.
"Alis...don't you listen?" I asked, exasperatedly.
"I was hungry." He whined, swallowing roughly.
I glared at him, shaking my head, and fished out a hunk of meat from my bowl, tossing it on the floor. We all watched with bated breath as Khan sniffed at it, before wolfing it down and looking up at me, expectantly, for more. We let out a collective sigh of relief, and I looked at Alistair.
"Congratulations. You're not dead." I said, raising my own bowl to my mouth.
"Why would you assume that nice lady would poison our stew?" He replied, smirking.
"I always assume the worst. That way, if I'm wrong, it's a pleasant surprise." I said, dismissively.
We ate in silence, and even though I knew the food was safe, it still seemed to stick in my throat and despite my hunger, I left most of it untouched. In the end, Grayson and Alistair finished my stew off between them, much to Khan's displeasure, and we followed Henrietta upstairs, to our rooms. There were only two rooms, next to one another and she unlocked the doors, before leaving us to it and disappearing back downstairs. I stopped myself in my tracks when I automatically started to follow Alistair into one of the rooms.
"You and Grayson should take this room." I said. "Morrigan and I can share the other one."
"You...you want me to share a bed with Grayson?" Alistair replied, looking as hurt as he was confused. I took a step towards him, kissing him softly.
"It's only for a few nights. I don't think it's very fair of us to expect Morrigan and Grayson to share, do you?" I replied, raising my eyebrows imploringly. He reluctantly agreed, and Grayson threw me a stormy look as he brushed past me, slamming the door to their temporary quarters with more force than was necessary.
It had been a convenient lie, but my motives for wanting to room with Morrigan were less about keeping her and Grayson apart and more about keeping her and I together. I grabbed Morrigan by the elbow, ushering her into our room.
"I can walk without assistance, thank you." She said, indignantly, but I ignored her, pressing myself against the wall that separated our room from Grayson and Alistair's, listening intently. I could hear their voices, but they were faint and unintelligible. Satisfied that we wouldn't be overheard, I turned to Morrigan.
"This place is all kinds of messed up." I said, quietly. "They're hiding something."
"I will admit, I have not felt at ease since we arrived." She replied, frowning thoughtfully. "Perhaps your paranoia is catching...or perhaps 't'is something more."
"'T'is something more." I confirmed. "I'm sure of it. I have...reasons to believe that the people here aren't the simple, salt-of-the-earth types they're pretending to be. But there's a lot that I didn't anticipate."
"Such as?" She asked, narrowing her eyes, curiously.
"Ah...okay." I frowned, moving to take a seat on the bed. "Well, the Revered Father thing tracks, but everything else is all topsy-turvy. First of all, I expected to be met by a guard on the gate. He was supposed to be hostile and raise our suspicions from the get-go, but of course there was no such beast. Secondly, there are children here. Regardless of whether or not I'm right in my suspicions, they have to be protected. If this turns into an all-out battle, I can't guarantee their safety. So I'd like to avoid bloodshed...if that's even possible."
"What manner of secret do you suspect the village hides?" She asked.
"Without getting into specifics? I think they're all part of some insane religious cult. In the...what I've seen, they will go to great lengths to protect their secrets from outsiders. We're not safe here."
"An insane religious cult? You just described the Chantry." She smirked.
"Quite. But this is different. It's evil. Dangerous"
"And that's different...how?" She asked, mockingly. As much as I didn't disagree wholeheartedly, I was growing irritated by her attempts to derail the conversation at hand.
"Look...yeah, okay, I get it. I'll have a theological debate with you on another day. Right now, we have to consider how to proceed. We came here for the ashes, right? We didn't come here to right every wrong in Ferelden. So if we can somehow get to Brother Genitivi and find out what he knows, hopefully he can lead us to the ashes and we can avoid a confrontation with the villagers."
"I suppose I follow your logic. But how do you intend to reach this Brother? The bar wench said there is a curfew after nightfall, and you may not find it so simple to sneak in and out of the Chantry in broad daylight."
"So we sneak in and out tonight." I said, nervously. "You and I. We can move quickly and quietly enough. And besides, if there really is a curfew, that should mean empty streets."
"It may also mean an abundance of hungry wolves. You...do not wish to recruit your fellow Grey Wardens to this task?" She replied, her confusion evident.
"I don't." I said. "Look, I love them, but stealth isn't really their thing, is it? And besides...I could still be wrong about this. I've been wrong before. I'd rather have a look around first, get a better understanding of what's going on before I rope them into this. I really think that you and I will have a much better chance of remaining unseen if we go alone."
"Unseen, yes...but if we are seen, and a fight is to be had, our chances dwindle significantly without them."
"I'm not looking for a fight. And given the lengths the villagers have gone to to avoid rousing our suspicions, I'm hoping that means they don't want one either."
"Any plan that rests on hope is a foolish endeavour."
"Look...this is just what makes sense to me. If I go to Grayson or Alistair with my suspicions, they'll more than likely want to tackle the problem head-on. Neither of them seem to be in the least bit wary of the people here. They are intuitive when it comes to fighting and darkspawn. But you and I know when we are being lied to. You feel it, don't you? In your gut?" I asked, quietly. She held my gaze for a moment before rolling her eyes, nodding in agreement. "We need to be smart about this. And whatever we find tonight, we'll share with them. But right now, I need you. Not them."
"I…" She started, hesitantly, and I could tell she wasn't convinced.
"Do you trust me?" I asked.
"I trust no one but myself." She replied, icily.
"That's...fair." I conceded. "But you can feel the energy of this town. You can feel how sinister it is, under that superficial veneer of pleasantries and rabbit stew. I'm going out there, with or without you. I'm asking for your help, as a friend."
"Ah, yes. A friend. You call me friend only when it is convenient to you." She said, with a bitter laugh. I bristled, defensively, but I couldn't argue otherwise. She wasn't wrong.
"I...I know I haven't been very fair to you." I admitted. "We probably got off on the wrong foot, and I've not made a lot of effort to fix that. We're two people who would have nothing in common if it wasn't for our shared goal of ending the blight. Maybe you can't call me a friend, and maybe I can't call you one either. Maybe we'll never be friends. But I'd like to think that we at least have an understanding. A mutual respect, if nothing else. You've been with me from the start, you were the first person I met in Thedas. That couldn't have been just a coincidence, could it?"
Her cold glare thawed a little, and I could see her considering it.
"For whatever reason, fate has thrown us together. We don't have to get sentimental about it, we don't have to bring our feelings into it, but we're both here for the same reason. And I could use your help."
She looked reluctantly thoughtful, before eventually throwing her arms up.
"Very well!" She sighed. "I shall help you. Again."
"Thank you." I grinned, rising from my seat. "You won't regret this. Well, you might. You probably will. No take-backs."
I strode to the door and listened for any signs of life in the hallway, but everything was silent. I turned the doorknob, but the door didn't budge. I frowned, jiggling the handle.
"The door's locked." I whispered to Morrigan. "Henrietta must have come back and locked it...well, at least we know for sure that something's amiss."
"Yes, but how do you intend to remedy that?"
"I could pick the lock...but we might run into her. If she's not in her room, I don't know the layout of this place well enough to avoid her." I glanced around the room, raising an eyebrow at the window. "But when life closes a door, it opens a window."
I was unsurprised to find that the window was also locked, but I dug the lock-picking kit that Zevran had gifted me weeks before out of my pack and made relatively short work of it. Morrigan shape-shifted into a raven and fluttered to the ground, landing softly on two human feet. I rummaged in my pack, finding the black scarf Bodahn had given me in Denerim, and I tied it around the lower half of my face. It may not conceal my identity completely, but it felt like better than nothing.
I leaned out, gauging the distance. We were only on the first floor, but it was still higher than I would have liked. Not high enough that a fall would kill me, but I didn't relish the prospect of having to fight a High Dragon with a broken ankle. I steeled myself, swallowing my nerves, and swung my leg out, grabbing the window ledge and lowering myself down to hang as low to the ground as I could before letting go. I dropped and rolled, rising to my feet unscathed, my fall cushioned somewhat by the fresh powder snow that covered the ground.
I pressed myself against the wall of the inn, listening to make sure nobody had heard me. Morrigan shifted into a wolf and I winced, shaking my head.
"Maybe not the best form to take in a town that's apparently on high alert for wolves, don't you think?" I whispered. She grumbled, but reappeared in human form at my words.
"You have a point." She said, reluctantly. "Do you know where you are going?"
"I think so." I said, peering around the side of the inn to see the deserted path that I knew led to the main square and the Chantry. "Stay close."
We crept slowly and quietly along the path, keeping close to the shadow of the buildings while ducking down to avoid passing by any ground-floor windows. The moon was almost full, and it's white light illuminated the snow-covered ground brilliantly. It was pretty, but less than convenient given my black leather attire. If anyone happened to look in the right direction, I wouldn't be hard to spot.
When the Chantry came into view, I was surprised to see the large, heavy doors of the building were slightly ajar, and orange light spilled out onto the snow.
"Do you hear that?" Morrigan whispered. I frowned, listening intently.
"Chanting." I realised. "Come on. Let's try to get closer."
The main square was largely barren, and it looked odd without the tents and stalls that would one day be erected here by the Inquisition. It also meant a significant lack of cover to hide behind and, eventually, we decided to run for it. Well, I ran. Morrigan flew.
Not for the first time I thought about how much easier my life would be if I could turn into a bird at will. My mother used to say that I was a bird, and I thought she meant it was because I was small and flighty, never content to be in one place for too long. It wasn't until I was older, leaving boarding school and preparing for my first semester at a university picked out for me by my father that I realised she meant that the whole world was my cage.
I skidded to a stop, spinning around so that my back hit the wall by the door. I wanted desperately to push the door open some more, but that just seemed like an unnecessary risk. Large, stained-glass windows adorned the walls, but they were too high to reach.
I looked around for inspiration, and my eye landed on a stack of barrels around the side of the building. I gestured for Morrigan to help me move them and she understood, wordlessly accompanying me over to the pile and one-by-one rolling the barrels over to a side-window. When they were stacked sufficiently high, I climbed to the top and gripped the windowsill, peering through the frosted glass.
"It looks like the whole village is here. So much for curfew." I remarked to the raven perched on the sill next to me. "I wonder where they're keeping Genitivi...he could be in one of the annexes...or he could be in the dungeons. Either way, we're shit out of luck tonight. There's no way we're getting past all of them. That's not the Chant of Light they're saying, so...score one for the crazy cultist theory. What are they doing?"
The raven chirped, and I rolled my eyes.
"I know they're chanting, you don't have to be so sarcastic." I replied. "Why the hoods? Why at night? What...wait, what's with the knife?"
I watched in horror as a young woman who looked to be around the same age as me was led down the aisle, to the front of the congregation where a man in resplendent robes - Father Eirik, I presumed - stood, leading the chant, brandishing a silver dagger in the air in a ritualistic manner. I couldn't hear the girl's pleading cries over the chorus of chanting, but as she looked around at the assembly, into the faces of people she had probably known and loved her whole life, I could see the fear in her eyes and the tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Oh no." I whispered. "They're going to kill her. We have to stop them."
The raven chirped louder, and I frowned.
"You're right. That wasn't the plan. But we can't just watch." I insisted. "Maybe we could create some kind of distraction...we wouldn't have to show our faces, but if we can interrupt them somehow."
Adrenaline was coursing through me and I shifted my position to begin the climb back to the ground but, in my haste, I moved too suddenly and the precarious tower of barrels beneath my feet tilted and I yelped when they started to fall. I clung to the windowsill as the barrels went crashing to the ground, and the chanting inside gave way to cries of alarm.
"Well, that's one way to do it." I muttered to the raven, dropping to the ground with a grunt. Morrigan appeared by my side, looking anxious as the sound of boots trudging through snow and angry shouts grew closer. I looked around, wildly, but we were trapped. There was nowhere to run, and as soon as they rounded the corner they would see us and we'd probably take the place of the girl I had saved. I turned to Morrigan. "Turn back into a bird. There's nowhere I can go, but you can still get away without being seen."
She looked at me, curiously, and then cursed under her breath, looking annoyed with herself.
"Do not say I am not a friend to you, Lauren DuVal." She hissed. Before I could make sense of what was happening, she lunged forward, a large, white wolf, and ran straight towards the sound of the encroaching mob. They greeted her sudden arrival with screams and hollers, and I heard their voices grow further away as they seemingly gave chase. Slowly, quietly, I inched my way to the corner of the building and cast a cursory glance around the square. It was deserted.
I knew I should have made a break for it. I knew this was my chance to get back to the inn before I was discovered, and I couldn't guess how long it would be before at least some of the crowd returned, but I couldn't do it. If I left now, there would be nothing to stop them from killing that girl. She had looked so scared.
I cursed my bleeding heart, but slipped inside the open doors of the Chantry before I could change my mind. The girl was weeping loudly, restrained by two hooded figures. Her cries echoed pitifully around the cavernous hall. Father Eirik stood, facing them, his back to me. Nobody had noticed my entrance, and I ducked out of sight, into the alcove to my left, and crept towards them. A door behind me opened, and I spun around to see another of the hooded villagers emerge.
The man frowned at me, and opened his mouth in an exclamation of angry surprise, but I reacted quickly, clamping a hand over his mouth and shoving him back into the room he had emerged from. He fell backwards, the plush carpet muffling the sound as he tumbled to the floor, and I landed on top of him. He struggled against me, and unthinkingly, instinctively, I plunged a dagger into his heart, killing him instantly. He went limp under me, and I rose to my feet, quickly stripping his body of the cloak and throwing it around my own shoulders, raising the hood to hide my face. I shuddered slightly, but pushed away the small voice in my mind that asked when I had become such a cold-blooded killer. It had been necessary. Rather him than the innocent girl in the next room.
I quickly sheathed my daggers, making sure they were hidden under my cloak, and strode confidently back into the main hall. Father Eirik turned towards me as I approached.
"Ah, Gilbert. You missed all the excitement. Another wolf attack, apparently." The old man said, in a bored voice.
At my reappearance, the girl only wailed louder. She was gagged, but she seemed to be trying to speak to me, her eyes wide and pleading.
"Your family will be rewarded greatly for your sacrifice." Eirik said to me, and I frowned, looking from him to the heartbreak in the girl's eyes. I guessed that Gilbert was related to this girl. Perhaps he was an uncle, or even her father. How could anybody justify this to themselves? How could anybody raise a girl from an infant, do everything they could to protect her from all of the ills of the world, and then offer her up as a sacrifice to some God? I felt physically sick, but I knew I didn't have long to ponder. I had to act now.
When Father Eirik turned his back to me again, I drew my daggers and slammed the hilt of one into the base of his neck, knocking him out-cold. The men holding the girl released her immediately, rounding on me, and I rushed forward, slashing their throats with twirl and a flourish. They dropped dead, and I used the bloodied blades to cut the girl's bonds.
"I'm going to get you out of here, but you have to be quiet. Can you do that?" I asked, looking into her terrified eyes. She nodded, fearfully, ripping the gag out of her mouth.
"I can be quiet." She squeaked. "They...they were going to kill me. My own parents...why are they doing this?"
"I know. I'm sorry this happened to you." I said, sadly, squeezing her shoulder and helping her to her feet.
"Who are you?" She asked, hoarsely.
I hesitated, before yanking my scarf down to my neck and lifting back my hood to let her see my face. She was terrified enough, she didn't need her saviour to be just some faceless, hooded killer.
"I'm a friend. I promise. I'm one of the good guys."
"But...but you're just a girl." She replied, disbelievingly. I shrugged, flashing her a half-smile before pulling my hood back down.
"So everyone keeps telling me. Come on. Stay behind me."
We ran to the doors and I poked my head out, checking that the way ahead was clear. We sprinted, hand-in-hand, towards the inn, but she pulled back.
"No, I have to go home. My little sister...I have to get Anna."
I started to argue, but my compassion won out, and I followed her through the streets. She burst into her house and I waited outside while she gathered her little sister and wrapped them both in winter cloaks. She emerged only moments later, carrying the little girl in her arms. She couldn't have been any older than four, and she clung fiercely to her older sister.
"What now?" The older girl asked, tearfully. "We have nowhere to go, they'll find us…"
"Take my horse." I said, guiding her in the direction of the stables and we took off at a run again. The stables were mercifully empty, and it didn't take me long to tack up my mare and help the girls into the saddle.
"Where will we go?" She asked. "I've never been anywhere outside of Haven."
"Ride south. Find the village of Honnleath. Just stay on the road, and don't stop riding until you absolutely have to. You should meet a group of people on the road. One of them is big and scary, but he's loyal to me. There will be an elf, a mabari, and a beautiful red-haired woman with him. Tell them Lauren sent you. Tell them I asked them to get you to Honnleath safely. Can you do that?"
She didn't answer. She looked terrified and confused and I couldn't say I blamed her.
"What's your name?" I asked, gently.
"Meghan." She replied.
"You can do this, Meghan. I know you can. You have to be brave for Anna. She's counting on you." I said.
"Okay." She breathed, taking a deep breath and nodding. "Okay, I can do this."
A shout from the direction of the Chantry reinforced the urgency of the situation, and she kicked the horse forward.
"Thank you. I'll never forget this." She wept, before kicking the horse into a canter and rounding the corner, fleeing through the village gates. I'd done all I could for her now. I just hoped it was enough.
Another shout, this one closer, brought me to my senses and I took a deep breath, making a break for the inn, running across the hard, slippery ground as fast as my legs would carry me.
I swung around the side of one of the buildings opposite the inn, leaning around it to check behind me, just to make sure I wasn't followed, but there was nobody there. I breathed a sigh of relief, dropping to my haunches in the snow.
I was just starting to breathe normally again when a low, menacing growl to my left made me freeze. I looked around, slowly, and came eye to hungry, golden eye with the largest wolf I'd ever seen. He was only a few feet away, and his eyes were trained on me.
I guess they really do have a wolf problem.
My daggers were strapped to my back, but every instinct in my body screamed at me to stay perfectly still. He crept closer, slowly, and I knew that any moment he would make his move. I knew that any second could be my last. All he had to do was lunge. Those fangs, dripping saliva, that hot breath misting the air, the pink tongue, tasting my scent on the wind. He was nature's perfect killing machine, and I would be dead before I could reach my weapon.
Behind the first wolf, several smaller dark figures prowled, but they hung back, allowing the alpha to make the kill. I closed my eyes, thinking furiously, but I couldn't see a way out. Even if Grayson and Alistair somehow figured out we were missing and burst in to save the day, my throat would be ripped out before they could reach me.
I felt something cold and wet brush my forehead and I inhaled, sharply, recoiling instinctively, opening my eyes to see the wolf cock his head at me, with a whine. I stared at him, wondering what he was waiting for. He leaned in again, sniffing my head, before laying down at my feet, with a relaxed yawn.
The other wolves joined him, padding out into the moonlight and settling themselves around me with an air of companionship that made absolutely no sense at all. It was as though they had sensed something in me that told them I wasn't food, and I wasn't a threat. I sat in the middle of the pack like I was one of them.
I was frozen somewhere between fear and disbelief, when some rational voice from within me penetrated the white noise in my brain. I frowned down at the amulet around my neck and realisation dawned on me. The amulet Alistair had given me. It was a Token of the Packmaster amulet. Maybe it was the Token of the Packmaster amulet. I looked back at the largest wolf and slowly reached out a hand, tentatively stroking the warm fur of his collar. He blinked, lazily at me, but otherwise didn't react.
I heard a far-off shout from somewhere in the village and whipped my head round. The wolves all stood, their hackles raised, but they weren't looking at me. They were looking in the direction of the noise, and I slowly pushed myself to my feet. The alpha looked up at me and I cleared my throat, nervously.
"Good boy." I whispered. "There are two girls travelling down the mountain on horseback. You're not to harm them. Other than that...go hunt."
At my words, the wolves took off, prowling further into the village, and I watched until the last one disappeared around a corner. I shook myself out of my stupor and made my way around the back of the inn, still shaking from a combination of cold, terror and utter disbelief. The window to my room was still open but there was no way I could reach it, and my lock-picking kit was still inside. I took a few steps back and attempted to run up the wall, but I only made it about halfway before gravity knocked me down again. I readied myself for another attempt when a makeshift rope of bed linens was tossed down and Morrigan stood in the window.
"How did you get back before me?" I whispered.
"Hurry! Inside. I led the villagers in the opposite direction but there's no telling when they'll be back." She replied. "I think I hear someone moving in the hallway."
I scrambled up the rope as fast as I could, and was surprised by the ease with which I managed to pull myself up. When I reached the window, Morrigan grabbed my arms and hauled me inside.
"Thank you." I whispered. "You saved my life back there."
"Yes, well...I believe you would have done the same for me, if you could. Besides...twas not difficult to elude the mob. I ran into the woods and became a bird. With any luck, they're still searching. The bar wench who locked us in our rooms was among them, but I think she may have returned. I suggest we get into bed and pretend that we simply slept through the commotion. They have no reason to suspect any human involvement."
I bit my lip, guiltily, and she narrowed her eyes.
"Oh, you imbecile. What have you done?"
AN: Thank you to my beta-reader, Kira Tamarion, for picking up my slack! As always.
Thank you to everyone who reviewed, it's always much appreciated. Remember, reviews are optional. But so is gifting Schmooples to Leliana. Do you...do you see what I'm saying? It's like...why wouldn't you give her that cute lil nug? Reviews are like word-nugs. And also like word HUGS, am I rght? I am. I am right.
Chimera Spyke: Just because you said that, Sten's going to spend the rest of the story in a pretty sundress. Haha, no but could you imagine? Sten and Alistair in sundresses, dancing the Remigold? Beautiful.
Aenrashir: I like the idea of a third-person POV. I've always preferred writing in third-person in general, this first-person story was something of an experiment for me. I don't know when I'll get to the POV changeup, I might save it for a big event. Ooh, like maybe the final battle, so I can cover more ground and really capture every party member's experience and contribution. But I'll see, I'll probably get impatient and throw in a third party chapter before then.
Guest: I smiled so hard when you said you woke your fiance up laughing. My work here is done! I can retire.
And I think you're the same anon reviewer from chapter 50 too, and if not, apologies, but if so, thank you! Cullen's going to be quiet for the next few chapters, but he still has some major contributions to Lauren's story before the blight is over.
And I think maybe you're the same anon reviewer from chapter 51? Lol, if not, y'all can correct me on the next chapter so I'm not lumping you all in together. But yes! I did get a TCH Talk. It's like a TED Talk but nobody asked for it and it makes no sense and has no basis in reality. The reason I replied was because the complaint was so generalised that I just knew they (he, let's be honest) had said the same thing to other writers on here and that just grinds my gears. Critique the writing, sure, go for it. But to leave a "girls suck" review on chapter 1, not refer to anything story-specific and to also repeatedly refer to it as a DA:I fic tells me you A) haven't read it and B) are trawling through multiple fics looking for female MCs to flame. Like...okay, so he clearly has strong opinions about female MCs and felt that the world had to KNOW. But that's not what the review section's for? The clue is in the name. I just wanted to be like "Reddit's thataway, you little rascal, you". I tried to be nice and professional but shit, I ain't getting paid, I can be as messy as I want haha.
But seriously, thank you for your support. Who is the other writer that tch reviewed? I'd like to share my support with them too xx