Fenris parted from us while we strolled through Hightown. I considered him lucky to have a house that wasn't in the middle of the pungent stench of fish coming from the docks, though Varric had warned me that Hightown tended to be even more dangerous than Lowtown, which didn't come as a surprise. The purses were fatter and guards were busy keeping order elsewhere, plus the templars weren't far away from the market square.
I already missed the cool wind of the mountains, the sound of rustling leaves and the soft soil under my sandals. One step on the hard stone tiles of the city made me aware of a blister on my foot, twisting my face into a painful grimace.
"It's so massive," Merrill ogled at her surroundings. "Do humans really need this much space?"
I found Merrill's question silly. Her clan wasn't aware of crowded conditions of a busy market or the feeling of bumping into people just to pass through a street. Elves like her had no built walls limiting their path while humans called themselves free despite being packed in towns and cities.
"Seems so," Roghart shrugged. "Unfortunately, the cities usually have a specific place for elves to live, Kirkwall included."
"Oh," Merrill blinked in surprise. "Can't wait to see it then."
My silence could be honestly explained, but as for the others, their uneasy expressions revealed the ugly truth behind an elven alienage. I realized Merrill had no idea that even the first rust-colored buildings of Lowtown we passed were pretty compared to the area for elves that could only be described as slums. For me, any house was far more comfortable than the shacks for Saarebas', but a native Dalish was bound to be shocked of the change. City elves had only few options to uplift themselves and I wasn't going to introduce Jethann's lifestyle to Merrill, despite the better coin and a softer bed.
The distinctive decoration of the Hanged Man made Merrill slow down, her large eyes scanning the common folk like she had just realized we weren't at the mountains anymore. The way she pressed her right arm against her chest reminded me of my own confusion when I had spent my first night in Kirkwall. Like Merrill, I hadn't lived in a city before and had to be taught where to go and who to talk to, among other simplest things.
I tugged Anders' sleeve and tried signing to him, I can go with her. By myself.
With a surprised look on his face, Anders stared at me and my brother when Roghart turned around to find the reason for stopping. "She wishes to escort our new member alone," he shrugged and I sighed from relief when he wasn't clearly against my idea.
Against my expectations, the look I got from Roghart displayed trust, although with a tiny bit of suspicion. I believed that if I was prepared to make changes in my own behavior, others would understand my reasons for actions I took better and my brother at least seemed to note that this time he would be aware of what I was going to do and for who or what it was.
"Alright," Roghart said. "I do need to go through our expedition plan with Varric. Anders, can you get the Deep Road maps and bring them to the Hanged Man?"
"Sure," Anders complied. "I think we should all meet here anyway if we're leaving tomorrow."
"Agreed. Reneka and Merrill can catch up with us later."
The nature of an elven alienage pulled my nerves like a tight ribbon around my neck, but I was slightly excited to be Merrill's guide and help a person whose feelings I could relate to. After I gestured Merrill to follow me, Anders halted us and handed me a few sheets of paper and a charcoal pen, nodding once like a teacher who gave his student a permission to cheat due to the circumstances.
I smiled and gently squeezed his hand like always when I thanked someone, though my heart didn't leap so weirdly with others. Realizing how awkward I suddenly got, I let go and smiled faintly before snatching Merrill's thin wrist and dashed away. After ten steps or so, I turned around to catch a glimpse of my brother as he vanished into the tavern.
"What's the hurry?" Merrill wondered in a pitched voice. "Not that I'm complaining, but I'm still not familiar with this change and rushing forward seems...reckless."
Bright spots of red appeared on my cheeks and I released Merrill's hand. The alienage was the exact opposite of a spectacular place, a home no-one should be delighted about. I had been so disoriented by the pounding heart in my chest that I had forgotten where I was taking out new friend.
With a hurried movement, I wrote an apology on a piece of paper and showed it to Merrill. I had witnessed various reactions from people who had found out about my disability without having to look inside my mouth, but Merrill seemed more confused than anyone. She kept glancing at the words and me, her lips parting and closing as if searching for the appropriate response.
"Forgive me if I'm wrong, but are you mute?" she finally asked and I nodded once. "I've never met a mute person before. There was a huntress in our clan everyone called deaf, but that was only because she tended to ignore us and spent most of her time alone. I wonder if she made any friends when she helped the Warden during the Blight."
The way Merrill had begun to nervously blabber always made the corners of my mouth rise into a sneer and it must have conveyed wrong meaning as a reply, like I was somehow amused of Merrill's question.
"I thought you were just shy," Merrill chuckled and gasped, like she had offended me and regretted deeply but I shook my hand and tried to make her understand that she hadn't hurt my feelings.
It's a long story, I wrote and Merrill displayed almost the same amount of confusion as earlier. She clearly was the kind of person who didn't recall a previous experience of the same event or a situation as quickly as someone else would. Instead, she was shocked or caught flat-footed before recognizing a familiar setting, like me talking to her on paper.
I wouldn't have been snickering in my head if it hadn't been only a moment since I had revealed my way to converse.
Merrill gathered her composure quickly. "Well I love stories, so let's have a...um, chat one day, shall we?" she struggled to figure out a correct word that could be used to describe a talk with someone like me.
I grinned as a response and continued towards the alienage. My steps were significantly slower this time, but Merrill didn't seem to notice the difference. Her gleaming eyes only added to her rather childish appearance and behavior which made me unsure of her reaction to the new life waiting for her.
We stopped a couple of times to examine the surroundings and the people. Merrill seemed to be impressed when she witnessed the larger ships at the harbor, telling me how she had never sailed before and knew nothing about the sea. Had my experiences of sailing not been related to the qunari, I would have gladly shared them with her.
I was concerned at first when Merrill remarked the obvious change in conditions between Hightown and Lowtown, though the way she compared the two by pointing out the features not to her liking made me hope the alienage wouldn't come as an utter shock to her and that she would actually prefer Lowtown. I began to regret not bringing along a person who had the skill to show her the shining side of a rusty coin, someone like Varric or Isabela. They would also have had better, more convincing methods to persuade Merrill than the folded paper with limited space in my pocket.
As we took the steps to the alienage, I could see the growing uneasiness on Merrill's face. I kept going and when I turned around at the end of the stairs, Merrill had stopped half-way, scanning the area like a puppy who didn't belong in the pack. Seeing her colorless cheeks was like watching my younger self in a mirror; the girl who was far away from home in the middle of strangers with no choice but to adjust.
She seemed confused when I offered her my hand in order to guide her the rest of the way, a gesture I meant as an encouragement. After a while, she put her cold hand in mine, causing me to remember the moment Isabela had found me on her ship and hadn't thrown me out. The powerful elven mage I had witnessed in combat looked so weak when put in a place with no familiar faces or daily customs, like she had to reconfigure her whole mind.
"Elgar'nan," she whispered when we reached the great tree and her bony fingers slid from my grip. "Is this really where the elves live?"
Her perplexed eyes met mine and I couldn't think of anything to say to her. It was the first time I had seen a Dalish elf moving into a human city, so I couldn't possibly know how she felt. The nod I gave her must have looked awkward and almost apologetic.
Merrill ogled around, as if she counted the people over and over again. "There are so many," she breathed. "Where are the children? Some of them must have kids, right?"
The lively atmosphere and the sound of banter made me realize how wrong I had been to compare Merrill's change to my time with the qunari. She had choices and she could make them matter. There was no need for her to try to blend in the crowd, because she was already part of it. Some elves greeted her while passing us, like she had always belonged to the community despite the Dalish tattoos on her skin. No-one could force her to be someone she wasn't and even if she lived in an alienage, she would still be more free than I had been as a Saarebas.
There were no chains around Merrill's neck. She was the one who could teach me.
I did a quick scan of the area and tapped Merrill's arm once I found what I searched for. A smile spread on my face when she reacted to the elven boy crouching behind a wooden crate, making animal figurines with pines and sticks.
"Aw," Merrill let out a cute sigh, her eyes following the boy as he ran to his mother to present the pieces of art with pride. "He's so...full of life. Life and imagination. I wish I had that. Maybe I would have become a poet or a painter or something. Something that doesn't involve magic. Although I like magic."
She nimbly turned towards me and I stealthily hid the hand that was supposed to stop the stream of words behind my back. "Is it wrong to admire these people?" she asked while approaching the vhenadahl tree. "They are us, but without our customs. The Dalish have always pitied the city elves and I was told that they and us were two separate races. Yet here I stand and I see no difference. Maybe that sounds a bit odd, but it's how I feel."
It's not odd, I wrote to Merrill, but it would have taken more than pen and paper to explain my understanding to her. Being part of the Qun meant that I hadn't been a human anymore and lived only to serve the tribe by playing a specific role. I had believed it to be true even on Isabela's ship; her crew of humans were like strangers to me even though I had the same round ears and same number of limbs. It was even harder for me to identify myself as part of the crowd, no matter the shape of ears or if the person next to me was missing a finger or two.
No-one had told stories of a Dalish elf living in a city alienage by his or her own choice, so Merrill had a golden opportunity to be the first. Hers wouldn't be filled with misery and blood like mine was, but with surprising truths to replace the false information the Dalish had passed on about their people in the cities for ages. She could be part of the crowd as the single Dalish elf, just like I was the lone Saarebas in a human city.
You'll be fine, I started and took the paper back before Merrill could read it. This is not a cage. You will make other friends besides me.
Merrill displayed an adorable smile and kept glancing at me. "We are friends?" she giggled.
Of course, I replied, a little puzzled of why she had to ask.
"I... I haven't made many friends. Most of the ones I had figured somewhere else to be after they discovered I was a mage who sometimes used blood magic."
It's not new to me, I told honestly.
"Really?" Merrill responded too happily in my opinion.
Before she drowned me in a monologue that could have revealed too much to anyone within the listening range, I wrote a message and lifted it close to her face, As your friend, I politely suggest that we don't discuss about this topic in public.
"Oh, right," Merrill blushed and bowed. "Sorry. It's nice to have a friend to tell you when to shut up. Not that I need to tell you because...err, I mean-"
I grabbed Merrill's hand and held it tightly but I didn't squeeze it too much. When she blinked in confusion, I playfully poked her nose and chuckled, waiting for her to grasp my meaning. First she grinned and soon it turned into genuine laughter which she quickly muffled when even the city guard at the entrance leered at us, like we were suffering from an episode of insanity.
"I think I'm going to enjoy having you as my friend, Reneka," Merrill stated while rubbing her nose.
There weren't lot of people I could compare Merrill with when listing those I considered as my friends. Both Isabela and Jethann had saved me, so I owed them more than my trust. They were wise and strong, but Merrill was perhaps the first person I had befriended without any special circumstances.
#
After Merrill and I had toured her new home, we made our way to the Hanged Man. I hadn't been surprised that an alienage house wasn't that different to Gamlen's. Kirkwall had a crystal-clear divination system that favored the rich and blue-blooded and stomped on the poor and wrongly gifted like the mages. Sometimes Lowtown felt like an alienage for humans who had more freedom than elves, but had to suffer from the same rats and mold in the corners of their homes.
At least Merrill's new apartment hadn't reeked of rotten flesh and the spiderwebs hadn't gathered any dust. I liked to think that she had gotten lucky and had received one of the better houses, though a pessimistic voice in my head said that the previous owner had recently either passed away or been captured by the city guard or the templars.
There was a faint drizzle outside, just enough to call the weather rainy. The missing sun plus late evening had emptied the streets and the Hanged Man wasn't even half-full due to the next day not being a holiday. It wouldn't even have been unbearable noisy if not for the group of heavily drunk men occupying a large round table in the far corner. When a customer scratched his messy gray beard while circling around me to get outside, I instinctively tousled my hair and patted my arms, afraid that I had caught head louses.
Merrill hadn't taken one step, her face frozen in discomfiture. She shuddered when I took her hand, but as I stared in her eyes, I detected slight excitement.
Are you okay? I wrote the question.
"This place is amazing!" Merrill almost shrilled and didn't seem to notice how it awoke everyone's attention. "Is this what humans call a tavern? Or a bar? It certainly looks like one I once saw in a picture book."
I nodded, still not sure why she was so thrilled.
"The Dalish have nothing like this," Merrill said, sniffing the air with a queasy expression. "It smells of puke and alcohol and burned fat. Is that normal?"
Why are you so happy? I asked bluntly.
Merrill read my paper and the usual childish grin returned to her lips. "It's so dirty," she chuckled. "Isn't that great? There's no need to try and impress anyone even though I'm new. I still have vallaslin on my skin and I was raised as Dalish, but that bears no meaning here. Strange how such an environment makes me feel a bit closer to those who live in a human city."
The point Merrill was trying to make would have gotten lost in the wind if I hadn't been sober. The Dalish were more privileged than their cousins in alienages, yet Merrill had instantly remarked how little anyone would care of her background, whether she was mingling with the people in the Hanged Man or the city elves. Her quick adjustment made me wonder why it had been so hard for me to learn self-esteem after running from the qunari. Was it only because Merrill had gone from living freely in nature's embrace to obeying the strict rules of a community, a start and finish line that were completely reversed when compared to my life?
I tried to adopt Merrill's point of view and looked around the tavern again. A bard was playing a lute near the stairs, but he didn't have a bowl on the floor for coins. His clothes were shabby and both of his knees were patched, yet he wasn't playing for money. My gaze moved slowly from the bard to the next man and the next until I stopped to watch a table where two men were playing cards. The taller one was dressed in his civies, but wore an emblem anyone could recognize around his arm: a sword surrounded in flames.
"Should we proceed?" Merrill asked, gesturing me to lead her further in. "No point in standing here, right?"
I uttered a complying sound and attempted to appear as non-suspicious as a mage passing a templar could. The man had no reaction whatsoever. Not even our eyes met. Even if she hadn't meant to do so, Merrill had showed me the mentality of belonging to a group while ignoring all the characteristics that could define me and make me an outsider. We were just people who had happened to enter the same place in order to enjoy our free night.
Of course I realized that not everyone was willing to shake hands with me. While Merrill was able to make me feel less categorized, she needed to learn how to tell a commoner from a high-ranking officer in a city, the subtle thread that couldn't be cut just because one hadn't been told about the rules. She seemed to do fine in the Hanged Man, but I shuddered at the thought of a templar knocking her door and how she would respond when an innocent stare with sad puppy eyes didn't work.
It was a lesson I would gladly offer Merrill in exchange of getting to know her and her culture better.
#
I barely slept that night after going home with my brothers. All Roghart's acquaintances had been present at the Hanged Man, gathered around the large table in Varric's fancy room. There had been a female guard named Aveline I hadn't been introduced to before. Anders and Isabela had been there and I had certainly missed many of their smiles and comments about me. I couldn't remember finishing the strawberry and peach drink Varric had ordered for me, nor the details of the expedition that had been discussed. There was a faint image of Merrill leaving earlier than us in my head, but some other voice said that it had been Fenris.
I had been too excited to focus on anything else than one truth that kept floating in my mind like a maple leaf playing in the wind with no destination.
My vacation was about to begin. I was about to put thousands of miles between myself and my qunari tribe. I wasn't going to share the same air with the Arishok for some time.
The moment was going to be only temporary, but it caused me to hum a joyful tune as I got dressed. After Isabela had insisted, I had given her the permission to buy me clothes and as I watched myself from the dirty, broken and only mirror in Gamlen's home, I was glad that it hadn't been a mistake. She had chosen a new deep red tunic with black lines around the hems and wide sleeves that reached my elbows. My new black pants were slightly longer than what I had worn before, leaving half of my calves exposed and the leather belt I tied around my waist had a couple of pouches on it. Besides not limiting my free roaming, having no armor or any extra layers of clothing suited me better as I had gotten used to taking advantage of a whole battlefield by constantly being in motion.
The sun had risen high by the time I had woken up after rolling in my bed all night, unable to attract the spirits that closed my eyelids and ensured they remained closed. I took father's necklace from my pocket and hung it around my neck, twiddling with the mysterious crystal till I could see my own reflection. I liked to think that it magically kept me safe in unfamiliar areas and the Deep Roads was definitely on the list.
On the desk of the bedroom was the talisman I had received from Coin. His last words were still a bit vague to me. Don't let Red go all out, he had said. When have I not given everything I've had in a battle? Was there a moment in my life I had forgotten about?
Sighing, I grabbed the talisman and put it on, listening how it clinked against father's amulet. Whatever Coin had meant, I couldn't let it mess with the clarity and resolve my mind had achieved after cumbersome work. I couldn't be called Red without red lyrium and the shards I had left were with Anders. No-one had given them back to me after the episode at the Blooming Rose and I had chosen not to look for them. I was going to become stronger with the help of the people I cared about and my own ability.
I wasn't surprised that sleeping late meant that no-one was there to greet me in the living room, not even my brother's mabari. Roghart had taken all of his gear, Carver was still staying at the Hanged Man for me to have more room and only my sandals were by the door. A lovely scent made my head turn to the table where slices of freshly baked bread was waiting to be eaten. Mother wasn't home either, but I could imagine her early in the kitchen in the blue apron that was folded neatly over the back of her chair, her hands kneading the dough and shaping it perfectly round. I almost felt bad cutting such a beautiful bread and covering the slice with cheese.
It irked me that I couldn't hug her before leaving. I didn't know if Roghart had told her that I was going with him or if he had decided to keep it a secret. There was not much room for secrets if I wanted to reconnect with her.
Vacation, I repeated to myself in consolation and wondered if I was the first ever to consider a trip to the Deep Roads as such.
I washed the rest of my breakfast down with two glasses of water, hopped into my shoes and finished tying the leather strips while opening the door. If I had been looking up instead of at my feet, my alarmed heart wouldn't have tried to jump into my throat when I saw Isabela, her hand raised like she was about to knock.
"Oops, sorry," she said, more amused than regretful. "Did I startle you?"
Curse you, my mind told her as I squeezed my chest, taking a couple of deep breaths. I made a mental note of the necessity to mention to her how easily I was spooked.
"Rogue sent me," Isabela put her hands on her hips. "You know, the tall guy with even taller sword and a sister who apparently needs to be fetched because she likes to make people wait? That Rogue."
My fingers were hastily digging for the paper and pen in my pocket, but Isabela stopped me. "Come on, let's go already," she snatched my hand. "We'll chat on the way."
Not sure what she meant, I shut the door behind us and let her decide the pace. I had assumed Isabela wasn't coming to the expedition. She had been drunk last night, but had loudly expressed her opinion; 'what a waste of time', 'who would want to voluntarily go anywhere near the dark spawn' and 'there's nothing but darkness, darkness, ugly monsters and more darkness to be found' were some of her quotes if I recalled them correctly.
The anonymous faces of Lowtown made me miss the people of the underground. It was important for me to mend the broken bridge between me and my family. Cowering in Jethann's hideout just because I sometimes got uncomfortable or personally hurt was no longer an option, but the mages and other residents of the underground had been kind to me and they had taught me much about the world the qunari had deprived me of.
It had taken a bit more effort for me to separate the speeches of hatred and rock-hard facts from each other, especially when most of the information had come from those who couldn't fit in the society that was ruled by men with enough power and coin to destroy their reputations.
Isabela had been awfully quiet during our walk until we neared the border of Hightown. "Before we continue, you must promise me one thing," she stated and I stopped to hear her out. "Do you remember that huge explosion you caused with a cannon on my ship?"
I lifted an eyebrow and nodded to keep the conversation up.
"And the shape I found you in over a week ago, you remember that too?"
The grave tone in her voice made me reach for a sheet of paper, thinking that I had to quickly begin to clarify some details of my abilities and their consequences to her before she wouldn't be able to treat me as friendly as she had, indefinitely. My own conception of not letting the past define me any longer halted my hand however and I lowered my gaze, not certain how to meet Isabela's keen eyes when I had no idea what to expect next.
"I don't know what the fuck you did to make all that shit happen," Isabela put weight on her right leg, leaning against it. "Anders told us you had lyrium in your body when you were unconscious, but he couldn't or didn't want to say more about it. He merely described your condition as 'being drugged'."
My thumb and index slowly picked the writing tools from my pocket and I wrote, He was correct.
"But that's not the whole truth, is it?"
I shook my head with shame.
"All I understand is that you are capable of playing with some dangerous magic in order to cast more potent magic," Isabela snickered. "I mean, a fireball from a cannon? Who the hell can do that?"
No-one, I admitted. I'm not supposed to be able to do something like that, no-one is.
Isabela took my hand, removed the paper I was holding and folded it four times before giving it back. "I don't require an explanation," she specified. "I only want you to promise me that you'll be more careful. Your survival in the Deep Roads or anywhere won't depend on your strength only, that's not your fate anymore."
As I mused on whether there was a hidden message inside Isabela's simple request, the matter was clarified when she presented a small leather pouch to me.
"Anders told me to give you this," she said dryly.
A lump got stuck in my throat when I sensed the red lyrium, its energy bleeding through and calling me. My Arvaarad had warned me that the corruption usually started with a soft song only the user of red lyrium could hear, but my connection to the poisonous drug wasn't so simply explained. Red lyrium didn't sing to me and I hadn't become addicted of it, yet it somehow always managed to find its way back to me. It twisted my stomach even if I didn't let it enter my body. As I glared at the shimmering aura around the pouch, I recalled how nice the morning had been without feeling the control of red lyrium and wanted to throw up. I almost did in fact.
I reluctantly took the shards, hoping that none of my friends and family had touched them. Isabela gave me the most disapproving leer.
"I don't agree with him," she pouted. "Even though you've promised me, I think you shouldn't have these."
Why didn't he give them to me himself then? I wrote.
"Because your brothers share my thoughts and I know you don't wish Rogue to hate Anders, which is precisely what would happen if he did this."
What about you? I asked with concern.
"Pfft, Rogue won't hate me!" Isabela laughed heartily. "Why do you think I persuaded the healer to follow my plan? I play to win, honey."
Isabela's transformation from being unnaturally uptight to her regular casual self was a relief. Her grin infected me like a curative disease, making my lips curve up. Red lyrium might have elbowed its way back into my pocket, but that was exactly what I was going to call it; an extra passenger.
My hand moved fast as I read Isabela like a book for children and wrote to her, What sort of favor you made Anders owe you?
Giggling, Isabela pinched my shirt and dragged me closer. "He had a key that opens the wine cellar at the Circle of Magi in Ferelden. Guess who's going on a treasure hunt after business has been concluded in Kirkwall?"
I joined her in restrained laughter, not ruining her moment by pointing out the flaws in the plan of raiding a place that was the very example of 'how to guard every inch of an enclosed space like your life depended on it'.
#
The marketplace we passed in Hightown caused less noise than the group of dwarfs and humans that lay one block ahead of us. As we got closer, I detected familiar faces and Isabela was already waving at Roghart once they spotted us. Aside from Anders, my brothers and Varric, I couldn't recognize anyone.
"About bloody time!" the dwarf next to Varric grunted. "If your brother-dear here hadn't paid a handsome sum to participate, I wouldn't have delayed the trip just for one gal!"
"A very useful gal, might I remind you Bartrand," Varric spoke for me. "Trust me, she's going to be an asset you don't want to miss."
The dwarf kept mumbling angrily and turned to order the men who were packing crates of food and water. Everyone seemed to be in a rush and I was amazed of how efficient the dwarfs were when working together. Not a single person was left without a task and witnessing the flow was like watching a perfect drama that captured the charmed viewer.
Despite the mocking shouts Bartrand aimed at his men, there was no force nor discomfort. I could never imagine the qunari being able to do the same. Force and discomfort were the only tools most of them knew how to use in order to speed up things.
I noticed how Roghart kept staring at me and I wore quite an embarrassed look of my face when approaching him.
"Sleep well?" he asked and I heard sarcasm in his voice.
I needed to write only two words to answer him, Ha ha.
"Good, you're in a good mood," he continued and crossed his arms. "We're leaving soon, I hope you are ready."
The vexing sensation of leaving without my mother's blessing prevented me dancing from joy. Instead, I shot a quick smile at my brother and evaded his eyes, trying to focus on something neutral and non-interesting.
When Bartrand stepped on a wooden box like it was his pedestal, Varric smirked and met my inquiring glance at him. "He loves to give a speech before big missions like this," he vilified. "Just pretend that you're listening and it'll be over much sooner."
Bartrand's words didn't include any unique praises or moral-lifting promises. Varric had been right with his recommendation and I searched for a new target to vacantly stare at. Anders appeared in my sight and I was compelled to respond when he smiled at me. While he was needed in the Deep Roads because of his maps, I wanted him to be present because of the gentle and safe feeling that caressed me every time I was near him.
"Wait," Bartrand paused, "who invited the woman?"
The interruption snapped me back and I prayed my cheeks weren't too flushed when turning around to see who Bartrand had meant. The shock of seeing my mother caused my mouth to open. I rejoiced while tensely biting my lower lip, unsure which emotion should remain stronger.
"Mister, I need to speak with my children," mother pleaded. "Just a couple of minutes."
My legs functioned only after Roghart gave me a careful push. I couldn't interpret mother's expression, not even when I finally stood at arm's reach from her. Thin strands of gray hair sweeping her skin in the wind made her look wistful as she blinked slowly and took invisible breaths, eying at me and Roghart.
"It's going to be alright, mother," my brother reassured. "You don't need to worry."
"Of course I do," mother said. "Are you sure that she should go as well?"
"She needs this and you know why. Besides, we would be shorthanded without her."
"Yes. Yes I do, but... Isn't there anyone else who could take her place?"
"The rest have other matters to attend to. This I've also explained to you."
My entire body felt light as a feather when I discovered mother had been informed of my departure, though the alleviation was short-lived. Great sorrow broke the disguise on mother's face, leaving her trembling and choking back tears. My nose tickled from the inside and I rubbed the corner of my eye when it got wet, acting fast in order to remain tough for myself only.
"Me and Carver will protect her," Roghart kept talking. "That's why he's coming as well, like I told you."
"But you can't all go!" mother cried, making it nearly impossible for me not to cry with her. "You said it could be dangerous. I can't lose any of you. Not when Reneka is at last..."
I'm not alone, rang the reminder in my head and I caught mother in an embrace. Her sobs ceased and her palm brushed my hair, occasionally squeezing it but I didn't mind. I wasn't sure if I had succeeded in comforting her or if my spontaneous leap had dazed her. For me, the hug loosened a cascade of sensations I hadn't confronted in ages. The very fact that she was there wrapped in my arms defended the decision I had made as a Saarebas; there had good reasons for me not to give up.
The annoying itch inside my nose vanished when a soothing scent entered it. Mother was wearing a lily of the valley on the hairpin of her bun. It had been my favorite flower ever since I was little and I recollected a memory of picking them up for her, thinking that watering them to prevent them from withering would also keep the smile on mother's face.
We had no cause to yearn for the lost past. Lilies still grew in forests and my path was filled with alleys and detours. Mother hadn't abandoned hope and she deserved to be repaid for that. My life and everything we could do together from that moment on was my gift for her.
I let go of mother and took a piece of paper, writing the note of solace that made me believe in what Isabela had remarked, I'm not alone.
"Mom", I uttered with extreme difficulty once again, awkward of how my hoarse voice always sounded.
"Oh," mother smiled like I had wished for and cupped my face in her hands. "I know you're not. You're definitely not alone, my sweet girl. And I realize how important it is for you to get out of Kirkwall, even temporarily."
Causing such pain to her made me want to apologize, but she clenched my hand, stopping the pen. "It's okay," she said mellowly. "I support your actions." She kissed my forehead and helped my chin up with her slender fingers. "Be safe, Reneka. Stay close to your brothers and your friends."
She nodded at Bartrand without saying anything and took a couple of steps back, not saying anything as Roghart muttered a 'thank you' to her and joined the others. It had been my intention to accompany him, but the farewell made me desire the company of a non-family member, not matter how pleasant it had turned out to be as opposed to hysteric screaming and blaming one another.
For a while, I took no account of mother's presence and leisurely walked to Anders, my eyes sneaking a swift peek of him before fixing at Bartrand who was more than ready to lead the group forward, his large hands combing his braided mustache. I appreciated the fact that Anders didn't ask about my welfare and it was his sympathetic silence that calmed me.
"Personal drama over with?" Bartrand asked my brother in a frustrated manner and received a reply that pleased him. "Then let's get underway."
"Been a long time coming, eh brother?" Varric said with pride.
I saw Bartrand flash a genuine grin of satisfaction. "That it has," he stated and raised his balled fist. "The Deep Roads await!"