Swiftly do stars burn a path across the sky,
Hast'ning to place one last kiss upon your eye.
Tenderly land enfolds you in slumber,
Softening the rolling thunder.
Dagger now sheathed, bow no longer tense.
During this, your last hour, only silence.
The rites had been read, and the fires still burned at the head of each grave she had made for her friends, though whether it was by divine blessing or by the strength of her magic alone, Velanna could not say. The Creators were sealed away, and so too was Seranni now torn from her, by treachery and deceit.
Her magic had helped her dig four holes in the wet Fereldan soil, and magic helped her draw stones from the earth for their grave markers. She had collected eight branches--four of strong oak to guide them on Falon'din's path through the Beyond, and four of whipcord-cedar to ward off Dirthamen's masterless ravens--and buried them with the only people left who had believed in her. They had followed to their deaths, in the end. She had no seeds nor saplings from their homeland to plant for them, but in their stead she lit braziers and prayed for Sylaise to protect their graves from those who would defile them. She set the shemlen and their caravans burning with the same fire, in their names-- for burning their dead was the way of humans, was it not?
Kethrin. Neriel. Harrand. Feora. And poor Rae'hel, Falon'din carry him swiftly, whose body she had been unable to recover.
She would not lose Seranni as well.
Seranni's ironbark pendant hung from her wrist, and she drew her thumb across the familiar surface, the pale blue-white wood smoothed and yellowed with age. Their mother, quiet and wan, had given it to Seranni mere hours before the wasting took her. Their father, their Keeper's First, bright and bold, had been lost to human swords the year before. His healing magic had been the strongest in the clan, stronger even than the Keeper's. Velanna had never managed to match his skill in that respect.
She was shocked from her dark thoughts by a human sitting beside her-- Nathaniel, she thought. That was the dark-haired one's name.
"How are you holding up?" he asked, quiet beside the crackle of the campfire and the rustle and clatter of the others in their party assembling their tents. Velanna's own equipment had been picked over by scavengers (what daring few had remained, after she rent their predecessors limb from limb), and her stolen aravel was too broken to save without a Dalish craftsman to set it right, but she had salvaged a bedroll and some basic supplies, at least. Fereldan nights were cold, but she cared not if she slept beneath the stars. She had done so enough times before all this, seeking her solitude.
"What do you care," she bit out, though without as much acid as she might have managed were she not exhausted down to her bones. She had faced many humans and beasts in her time, but a dragon was beyond any foe she had met before, and they had not slept since Seranni's darkspawn captor had cast his magic upon them.
"I have a sister, as well," he said. "A younger sister. Until very recently, I believed her to be dead."
"And was she taken by unnaturally intelligent darkspawn and made to serve their whims?" The memory of Seranni's once gentle face sunken and stained by darkspawn corruption made Velanna's throat tighten and burn. Even their mother had not looked so poorly, withered as she had been by disease.
"No," Nathaniel said apologetically. "I thought her killed in the Blight, either by darkspawn or… or otherwise. I know her to be safe now. I merely thought to offer you my condolences. If I thought someone had taken Delilah from me, I would have done exactly as you did."
Velanna's eyes narrowed, scanning him for any sign of insincerity. It was disconcerting that she could find none. He had defended her the day before, as well, and shown sympathy despite the fact that she had killed so many of his kind. She had never heard of a human behaving such, though she had heard rumors that the Grey Wardens did not share the same prejudices as the rest of the world and welcomed members of any kind. As they fought their way through that cursed darkspawn's lair, he had taken orders from Tabris, the elf that named herself the Wardens' Commander, so Velanna supposed that must have been the truth. Tabris was a flat-ear, certainly, but that made no difference to the shemlen-- an elf was an elf. He must also have been among the armies who had helped her slay the Archdemon and defeat the darkspawn horde. If he harbored any resentment at all for being made to follow her, he showed no signs of it.
Baffling.
As if he could read her thoughts, the human continued, "The Commander is a woman of her word. She will call on you in our fight against the darkspawn, certainly. But if there is a way to help your sister in the process, she will find it. And I as well."
Uncomfortable with facing how much she wanted to believe him, she turned her head, staring intently at the wood splitting and cracking beneath the fire.
"...Thank you," she said after a long moment. Weariness pulled at her limbs, making them leaden and unsteady. Perhaps it made her mind soft, as well, weakening her resolve.
"Get some rest," Nathaniel said, and rose from where he sat to return to his place in their camp. "We'll be on our feet for days before we reach the Keep."
---
The other human was far less palatable.
"I'm just saying that maybe if the Templars pulled their swords out of their arses and shoved something else up there for a change, they'd be a little easier to get along with, that's all."
"Enough, Anders," said the Commander, in a tone that brooked no argument. Anders, however, was impervious to tone.
"Oh, where's your sense of humor? If we can't joke about terrible things, they'll just end up controlling us, don't you think?"
"Not the time or the place," she said, and adjusted her heavy pack with loud finality.
"That's what they'll say at first, yeah, but with enough lubrication…"
The dwarf, Oghren, barked with laughter, and the Warden-Commander sighed wearily, as though she had been through this same exchange hundreds of times already, evidently electing to ignore Anders lest he be invigorated by further attention. She wiped the sweat of travel from her forehead. Summer was only just beginning to subside, and the sun was still out in force during cloudless days like this one.
Velanna's eyes followed the clumsy lines of Tabris's tattoos, more visible here in daylight than they had been in the darkness of the mines. She hadn't been able to really examine them before, though she had known them to be the fumblings of her wayward cousins in the shemlen cities and certainly not the work of a proper Dalish artist. They held no meaning she could discern; even with variations in designs between the clans, the iconography of vallaslin remained constant enough to be easily understood by anyone of Dalish upbringing. The craftsmanship was shoddy, the ink beginning to blur and bleed. The woman would not have been called beautiful without them, but they marred her strong features further. It showed a shameful lack of education, Velanna thought, but even the city-dwellers must long to be part of what the Dalish had reclaimed, and she had led them quite competently through battle thus far. That at least warranted further consideration.
"How far do you think, Nathaniel? You know the area better than I do."
Nathaniel's head turned to the Commander from the fixed point on the road he had been holding while the rest of the party carried on, and answered, "Only a few hours, now. When we turn at the next crossroads, we should be able to see the heraldry over the trees at last."
"Thank the Maker," Tabris grumbled, then added, at normal volume, "Thank you, Nathaniel."
Velanna stole a sideways glace at him. In the light of day, his features seemed harsher, his skin more sallow. His darkly stubbled jaw and bruised eyes stood out against his fish-belly paleness. By the firelight he had seemed softer, somehow. Velanna found most humans unpleasant to look at, slack-jawed and brutish as they were, but while she didn't think him terribly handsome, neither was he entirely ugly, and she found herself examining him for long stretches as they walked. He seemed tired, a determined wrinkle ever-present on his brow. She was following the sharp curve of his nose when she realized he had turned his eyes towards her, pale gray and arresting.
"Is something the matter?" he asked, in that quiet, even rasp of his. Her face burned at having been caught out.
"No, I-- no." Velanna quickly averted her eyes, and picked a random patch of forest to focus her attention on. She could feel him looking at her for a few long moments. It prickled at the back of her neck.
"Have you ever been inside a castle? I know-- well, being Dalish, your people give such places a wide berth, I imagine."
"To do otherwise would be inviting the humans to attack us, or worse," she said. "Obviously."
"Yes, of course," Nathaniel said, cowed by her answer. "That was a foolish question. I hope you'll find it welcoming, despite that." Velanna forced herself to turn back to look at him once again, but found that he was frowning at the backs of their traveling companions ahead of them on the road. "And I hope we haven't made a terrible impression on you. These two can be… a lot."
Velanna scoffed. "I cannot afford to be choosy about the company I keep. My sister's abduction demands a response. But… well. You did help me find her. And you helped me escape. I would not have pledged my service to your Commander if I did not think her cause or her allies worthwhile."
That made Nathaniel smile, and ah-- there was that suggestion of softness. His eyes seemed to grow warmer as they wrinkled at the corners.
"Well, we are quite lucky to have one as skilled as yourself join the order."
Velanna clenched her fists against an odd jitteriness under her skin. "Yes, you are. Your mage's fireballs are pathetic."
"It's not the size that counts!" Anders shouted from a few yards ahead.
"Did they tell you that in your Circle? They were trying not to hurt your feelings," she barked back.
"The Circle lied to me? Andraste's sword, my world is falling apart! I have been unmanned!"
Warden-Commander Tabris adjusted her bag again quite pointedly, her gear clattering as it settled against her back.
Velanna had, of course, seen castles and human cities-- from a great distance, or in the form of uninhabited ruins populated only by animals and wayward spirits. It was easy enough to imagine what they might look like up close.
That did not account for the sheer number of humans she would be forced to endure. The closer they got to the keep, the more she saw; merchant caravans laden with sacks and crates, human soldiers in matching suits of plate armor marching in formation, lone travelers on horseback looking for shelter on the long journey to Amaranthine. The last and only time Velanna had seen so many humans, it had ended in fire and death.
"Hail, Warden-Commander," came a bellow from the outermost wall of the Keep. It was an ugly, sprawling thing, haphazard and visibly oft-amended and repaired. Older sections of stone met obviously newer sections met half-finished sections even newer than the last, crumbling Avvar construction crashing into Fereldan practicality and Dwarven overcompensation. Velanna had expected a castle, and there was a towering one in there somewhere-- it was simply that it was more like a colony of castles built into and out of one another, forming a strange little city unto itself.
As they traveled further in, she finally began to spot more elves. Flat-ears, of course, like the Commander, carrying tools and wheelbarrows and scroll cases to and fro. Disgraceful.
"Welcome to Vigil's Keep," Tabris said, gesturing broadly at the expanse of it. There were stone huts within the outer walls-- staff living quarters, perhaps, or storage sheds-- and between them little plots of gardens and winding dirt paths. Armed humans seemed to be around every corner. Velanna's blood thrummed in her veins. Every instinct she had was screaming, danger. "There was a contingent of Wardens from Orlais and the Free Marches stationed here until they were taken unawares by the same intelligent Darkspawn we fought in those mines. Now it's just the four of us. The rest aren't affiliated with the Wardens, but they serve the arling."
"Which just means they serve the Wardens, 'cause the Arlessa is also the Commander here," Oghren said with a grin. Tabris did not seem quite as smug about that fact as he.
"I suppose that's true," was all she said.
"They tell me she's the first elf in the country to hold a noble title. I'm new to surfacer bullshit, but that seems like something she oughta be proud of to me, yeah?" Oghren sidled up to Tabris, elbowing her in what seemed to Velanna to be an overly familiar way. But, she supposed, these people must have fought many battles with her during the Blight. There was a history there she had no access to.
"I'm amazed the humans allow it," Velanna said, and meant it. She had never heard of elven nobility outside the long-dead histories of the Dales and Arlathan.
"Probably because we saved all their hides," Oghren said. "Hard to ignore that. And, well, I guess if you lop the head off the old Arl you get to keep his house too."
"Oghren."
If Tabris had sounded irritated before, she sounded deadly now. Oghren had the sense to look shamed, after her thunderous dismissal.
"Sorry, Commander, I didn't-- yeah."
Velanna startled when Nathaniel picked up speed, stalking past her and all the others, doubling his pace towards the main gates. She hadn't been able to catch another look at his face before his back was to her, but his gait was stiff and determined.
"Aw, shit. Okay, hold on, kid, hold on," Oghren muttered, and shuffled off after him, plate armor clanking.
What in creation had that been about?
"Well!" Anders chirped, slicing through the tension. "I've had just about enough road for one lifetime. There's gotta be a pint and a blasted chair somewhere around here. Yell if you need me!"
Tabris stalled in the road, suddenly as weary as she had been angry before. She and Velanna were alone now, for the first time since their meeting days before. "I'm sorry about that," she said. "I'll show you to where you'll be staying and let you rest a little, then we can worry about… everything else. And I'll come by to show you where you can find a basin and a meal once I've dropped off my gear and checked in on a few things. Sound good?"
"Yes," Velanna said, following Nathaniel's rapidly disappearing form with her eyes. "Yes, that will be fine."
---
Inside the castle it was cool, cooler than Velanna had anticipated. It was also dark; windows seemed to have been an afterthought for the castle's original inhabitants, and the tall ceilings gave way rapidly to deep shadows where the firelight failed to reach. Rugs and tapestries in warm colors masked the cold damp of the stone and plaster walls, many emblazoned with heraldry, a bear against gold and white. The castle seemed to be in a state of transition. In one room, paintings of cities and dark-haired humans covered the walls; in many more, there were frames removed from the walls, left propped against them from the floor or stacked up three or four high. Castle staff were in the process of moving furniture around, bureaus and chests and rolls of bedclothes migrating from one wing to the next.
The room they had left to Velanna was small, and sparsely furnished, but it was still larger than the cabin of her aravel. She guessed she could fit two aravels in this room, if one had been able to fit through the door. There was a window with wrought iron inlay on the far wall, where a small amount of dim light filtered through. The bed was a sturdy wooden thing, with a wool mattress and plain linens that appeared to have been untouched for weeks. A cloud of fine dust rose into the air around her when Velanna sat heavily upon it. Next to it sat a functional cabinet, and a fat yellow candle, only barely used. Velanna flicked her finger, and the wick erupted into flame. There was a chest at the foot of the bed for her things, and a small fireplace with fresh logs in the grate across from it, along with an empty armor rack and a dry metal basin on a wooden stand. Going forward, this place was to be her home.
She worried at the ironbark pendant, turning it over between her thumb and forefinger, staring, unseeing, out the window. The faintest sliver of the outside world, more brown than green; she was encased on all other sides by heavy stone, entombing her.
"Tenderly land enfolds you." Her grip around the necklace tightened.
She was startled by a flare of light, and when she turned to see the candle sputtering and spewing flame high up into the air, she snuffed it with a burst of ice magic out of sheer instinct. It left the entire candle encased in ice, frozen to the table.
"Stupid, idiot-- ugh." She was angry at herself, for allowing herself to lose control so easily, like she was some green apprentice again. But hadn't she spent the last month of her life leaving control by the wayside? It seemed she could no more easily regain it than blood, once spilled, could be unbled.
A heavy knock startled her once again, and she took a second to compose herself, smoothing a clammy hand over her face before she pulled open the heavy door. The Warden-Commander had returned, having traded her plate armor for lighter leathers.
"Settling in all right?" The Commander looked somehow less comfortable out of her armor than in it, as if she weren't sure what to do with herself when at rest. "If you're ready for a good meal, I can show you the way to the dining hall."
Velanna hadn't had the clarity of mind to pay attention to her body's needs until that moment, when she realized suddenly she was ravenous. She hadn't eaten since the camp porridge they'd all had at dawn.
"It's fine," Velanna said, and debated for a moment whether to take or leave her staff before finally, hesitantly, leaving it propped against the armor rack. "Lead the way."
Tabris's eyes glanced over Velanna, head to toe, for a brief second. "You don't have any other--" she said, then hesitated, chewing on the rest of the sentence.
"What? Out with it."
"Your clothes are… There's nothing wrong with your clothes," Tabris said, trying for diplomacy. "But you will stand out a little, until you're fitted for Warden gear. Generally speaking, the people here won't ever have met a Dalish before. I don't want them to give you a hard time."
Velanna bristled. "They can do whatever they like. I'm not going to change to make them more comfortable."
"I want you to be comfortable," Tabris insisted. "But you're right, of course. And if anyone does give you a hard time, you have my word they'll be dealt with."
"'Dealt with'?" It was intriguingly vague. They both knew how Velanna would have dealt with such a thing.
"Lotta the humans here had... complaints, when they put me in charge. As it turned out, so did a lot of the elves when I asked them about the humans they worked with. A few were turned out on their asses without a reference." The Commander's face hardened, her sharp green eyes going distant. "A few won't be bothering anyone anymore. No shem will do you harm on my watch. That's a promise."
Velanna had no idea how to react to this woman. Seriah Tabris had offered her help, and given her the only path she could see towards finding her sister again, and for that she had been grateful, but she hadn't much regard for the elves from human cities, who had forgotten their history. It was hard not to laugh at Tabris's clumsy imitation vallaslin. But Velanna had to concede that the woman knew how to handle herself in a fight, and if she had the same ire for the shemlen that she'd had for the darkspawn, perhaps she and Velanna would get along. If only the others of her kind, content to live in mediocrity in the human cities, were so bold. It wasn't the same as having Seranni there, or one of the members of her splinter-clan, but she had to take her allies where she could.
"Anyway. Wardens are quartered in this wing. Most of the rooms are still empty. Stairs at the end of the hall," Tabris said, and looking back, Velanna saw a spiral staircase tucked back into the stone. "I'm at the top of those. If you need anything at the end of the day, I'll be there. Meals three times daily, and you can help yourself to whatever's set out. If you want anything else you'll have to check in with the kitchen, but they're starting to understand how much damn food Wardens go through, so they should be accommodating, within reason." Velanna frowned, eyes roaming around the walls, trying to make sense of the pathways they were taking so she could return to them later. The woman's words only half registered.
"You spoke of some kind of… ritual," Velanna said. "When do I…"
"The Joining," Tabris said, before she paused to clear her throat, "will need some time to prepare. Tonight, just rest. Eat. There are baths, if you'd like one." She glanced back at Velanna at that. She had washed the gore from her kit, darkspawn and otherwise, in a stream outside the mines, but hadn't properly washed herself since even before her sister was taken. Her hair was an unsalvageable tangle.
"How long?"
Tabris seemed reluctant to answer. "Tomorrow evening. We will discuss it more then, I promise you."
The hallways and side rooms finally opened to a large chamber, marked as the dining hall by the long tables and benches, and the smell of roasted meat. More banners with the bear heraldry hung from the high rafters, the room lit by glass windows set into the roof, torchlight, and a large brazier at the far end. Servants with trays of food, human and elven alike, filtered in and out through a side entrance that Velanna gathered led to the kitchen. The room was populated almost entirely by human soldiers, around a dozen, though there were a few dwarven folk in laborers' clothes among them. As they walked past, many of the soldiers stopped what they were doing to acknowledge the Warden-Commander. When they caught sight of Velanna, however, just as many of them faltered, staring, or trying badly to hide the fact that they were doing so. It was hard to tell if it it was her ragged, unwashed state, or the fact that she was an elf dressed in a Dalish mage's garb. Possibly it was a good amount of both, given Tabris's talk earlier.
The Wardens sat at the table nearest the kitchen, and it was covered in so many platters it seemed to Velanna the table ought to buckle beneath them. She hadn't seen so much food at once since the last solstice feast, and that had been for her entire clan rather than five people. There was a plate of roasted game birds, already picked clean to the bones, several dishes of half-eaten pies, bowls of mushrooms and greens, loaves of dense brown bread, and many more items that Velanna could never have hoped to identify. The dwarf was already deep in his cups, judging by his complexion. He and the human mage were exchanging insults with demented glee.
As they approached, the mage, Anders, caught sight of them first, and began to wave. "Welcome, ladies!" Nathaniel, sitting across from Anders with his back to the two of them, whipped around, then stood from his seat so quickly Velanna was surprised he hadn't tripped over the bench.
"Commander," he said, with his fist over his heart in what Velanna supposed was a human salute. When he turned to Velanna, however, he bent at the waist, and the salute became a bow. "My lady."
Oghren snorted, but kept his face planted in his mug, while Velanna's face burned in confusion, standing statue-still. She had been prepared for insults and snickering, but not… this. She had never been addressed this way, by anyone, much less a human.
Tabris took a seat next to Nathaniel while Velanna was still trying to puzzle out how to react, and gestured for her to sit as well. She took the spot next to Anders, and only once she had sat did Nathaniel take his seat again. None at the table seemed as baffled as she was, though she had an inkling the others found it funny, for some reason. Was it some kind of joke at her expense? She could not wrap her head around it, and decided to forego commenting on it and opening herself up to more ridicule, electing instead to fill her plate with mushrooms and greens, and chancing a slice of the pie, which she guessed to be either beef or mutton from the look of it.
She had thought these men uncharacteristically gluttonous, gorging themselves as they were, until she saw the Warden-Commander's plate; the woman had taken more than twice what Velanna had, her plate overfull, and she tucked in without hesitation, putting away so much food in such a short amount of time Velanna had to wonder where on earth she kept it all. Tabris was shorter than she by a bit, though she was broader. Apparently she also had the stomach capacity of a druffalo.
"How are you finding Vigil's Keep, my lady?" Nathaniel, she noticed with mounting horror, was now serving himself seconds. His address only compounded her confusion.
"I don't know how you humans sleep under sheets of stone like this," she said, punctuating it with a bite of pie. The meat inside was drenched in some kind of thick, gluey gravy whose texture she had never encountered. It was much heavier than she expected, and she chewed with some hesitation. "I feel as if it will all collapse in upon us at any moment."
"Let's take her to Orzammar, Commander," Oghren belched. "She'll have a blast!"
"The Vigil was originally built by the Avvar people more than a thousand years ago," Nathaniel said. "It has been altered and repaired in that time, but that the original structure could stand for so long without being completely destroyed is a testament to its strength."
"If it's that old, it's that much closer to collapsing," Velanna protested. Wood improperly cared for would rot in time, but the roof of a wagon would never crush you to death beneath its bulk.
"For as much money as I gave Voldrik to see to the construction, it'd better not be," Tabris said around a mouthful of bread.
"It's perfectly safe, my lady, I promise you," Nathaniel insisted. "If there's time, I could show you the grounds? I can imagine it's difficult to navigate if you're unfamiliar with it."
Velanna's eyes narrowed. "Why?"
"I-- what?"
"Why would you want to 'show me the grounds'? Surely a Grey Warden has better things to do."
"I only meant to do you a courtesy, as I know my way around the castle," Nathaniel said, speaking carefully, as if Velanna were a pressure plate he was trying to avoid setting off. "If I've somehow given offense--"
Velanna huffed impatiently. "No. No, you haven't offended me."
"I see," Nathaniel said, though he did not seem quite convinced. "Well, then, that is… good."
Before Nathaniel could dig himself a hole any deeper, Tabris cleared her throat. "As soon as we're done here, I'd like all of you to meet me in the council room."
"Which room is that, again, Your Ladyship?" Anders asked. He turned to Nathaniel, whose expression darkened significantly, and batted his eyelashes.
"Don't," Tabris said, emphatically gesturing with a hunk of half-eaten bread. "And it's the one down the hall from the throne room, with the big Griffon shield mounted over the door. Velanna, we'll need to know anything about your sister that you think might be relevant to the mission. I think she's our best link to finding and neutralizing this Architect. Wardens, I'll need all of you to go over everything we know so far about the darkspawn situation so we can form a plan of attack. Got it?"
"Aye aye, Commander."
The conversation carried on, but Velanna's eyes were glued on Nathaniel as she forced down the rest of her dinner. What a relief it would have been, to trust in his sincerity… and what a fool she would be. Had she really become so desperate that she would trust a human's pretty words?
But a traitorous voice in her mind dogged her: What if he is sincere? Maybe he actually had no ulterior motive. Maybe he was actually just trying to make her feel welcome, in his strange human way. Maybe he genuinely liked her, though she couldn't fathom why, and wanted to know her better. He was a Grey Warden-- a decorated hero. Not all Wardens were of the same caliber, of course--
"You know, Oghren, when you drink like that you look just like the fountain we had in the garden back at the Circle."
"Oh, aye?"
"Absolutely! Ale dripping down your jowls. You know, I pissed in that fountain once. Okay, twice. Well--"
--but he was obviously a different sort. Seranni had often chastised her for judging people too quickly. So few people had given her cause to trust them, and to trust a human man was unthinkable, but perhaps...
As the other Wardens left the table one by one, Velanna waited for Nathaniel to finish his absurdly large meal, and summoned her nerve. "You may show me the way to this council," she said.
Nathaniel blinked in surprise. "I may?"
Velanna's resolve faltered a touch. "Y-yes. Since you seemed to want to show me the castle so badly. Unless you--"
"I will happily," Nathaniel said before she could second-guess herself, rising from his seat and inclining his head to her with a gesture, "show you the way, my lady."
"Good," she said. Her face felt noticeably hot. She refused to acknowledge it.
"We're in the east wing of the Keep, at the moment," Nathaniel explained, as he led her from the great hall. "The kitchen and informal dining halls are here, of course, as well as the guard barracks and the healers. You've come from the west wing; that's where they've assigned the Wardens. They used to be guest chambers for visiting dignitaries and their retainers, and the like, when it-- before Amaranthine was granted to the Grey Wardens. That's where you'll find the armory, as well. The throne room and the Commander's council chamber are centrally located-- here." The hall opened up into a greatroom as large as the dining hall had been, with enormous wooden pillars and crossbeams stretching high up into the ceiling. There were skylights here, as well, and Velanna could see now that it had grown dark, though she could not see the stars. Tall bookshelves and gilded treasures lined the walls, which were adorned with the same heraldry she had seen before, but also the distinctive blue and silver griffons of the Grey Wardens. A throne sat at the head of the room, empty.
Past that and down another hallway was the council room Tabris had directed them towards, she and the other Wardens having arrived just ahead of them. An enormous Grey Warden shield with rearing griffon heraldry hung over the wooden double doors, and inside was a large wooden table covered in maps and markers, as well as a dozen or so heavy wooden chairs. With a flourish, Anders lit a brazier that hung from the ceiling in the windowless room.
Nathaniel paused in the doorway, giving a slight bow as he waited for Velanna to enter before him. She eyed him suspiciously as she passed.
Tabris seemed to be keeping a close eye on him as well. "Close the doors, please," she said, and Nathaniel obeyed. "All right, now that you're all here, I'd like to make a few things clear." She leaned on the table with both hands, scanning over each of them one by one. "The First Warden has trusted Seneschal Varel and his people with a lot. More than they trust most outside the order. But they are not members of the order. There are things they can be trusted with, and things we are not permitted to share with them, or with anyone. Anything we discuss in this room? Stays in this room, unless otherwise noted. Understood?"
"Commander," the three men responded.
Taking their cue, Velanna quickly added, "I understand."
"Thank you. Now, Velanna," Tabris said, and turned her full attention toward her. "If you could, I need you to answer a few questions about what happened to your people." Velanna steeled herself, and nodded. "About how long had it been since your sister went missing when we found her?"
"A week, perhaps," Velanna said. "Maybe a few days more. She and Rae'hel had vanished, the others… slain." The memories of that week were a blur of death and fire. She wasn't even sure how much she had slept or eaten during that time. The last of her lyrium supply had been quite thoroughly depleted by the time the Wardens arrived.
Tabris peered off in thought, smoothing her hand over her mouth. "Your sister… She appeared to be what we call a ghoul. People who contract the darkspawn taint but don't immediately die become… like the darkspawn. They can sense them, and hear their song."
"Song?" Velanna was sure she had never heard a darkspawn doing anything she would consider singing.
"It's the way the darkspawn communicate, a twisted song only they and any other tainted thing can hear. A ghoul slowly loses their faculties, everything in their head is drowned out by that song, whispering in their ear, and eventually they're compelled to behave as the darkspawn do. But they're sick, the same as anyone exposed to the taint. It may take months, maybe even years, but they will eventually die."
"Seranni is... dying," Velanna said, cold fear sinking into her gut. Seranni had looked dreadfully ill, that was plain to see, but to hear it lain out in such terms gave it terrifying finality.
"Yes. I'm sorry. I have no idea how long she might hold out. But something about it is… wrong." Tabris frowned, deep in contemplation. "Ghouls are not, generally speaking, self-aware. They lose their rational minds, their ability to speak coherently. As much as her illness had progressed, she seemed completely in control of herself and her mind. Whatever has granted the darkspawn intelligence and speech, perhaps it has also kept your sister from completely losing her sanity. I can't predict what form her infection will take or how fast it'll spread. But if we can find her again, and she does still have the ability to reason, maybe you'll be able to get through to her. She was willing to help us before. I'm hoping she'll be willing again."
"Those… notes you found, in the Architect's... torture chamber," Velanna bit out through gritted teeth. "He was using Seranni's good nature against her. Between she and I, Seranni is the one who got all the social graces. She always wanted to see both sides of an argument. I wouldn't be surprised if she was taken advantage of by this 'Architect' simply because she tried to understand him rather than cowering away from him."
Tabris mulled that over, chewing her lip. "It sounded like he wanted to make her his recruitment tool."
"She was always persuasive." Velanna could still remember how Seranni had pleaded with her to stay, the day Ilshae declared her exile. In the end Seranni had left with her, begging the Keeper for understanding, convinced she could sway Velanna from her path. Even through the pain of rejection, she had been proud in that moment to call Seranni her sister, knowing Seranni loved her enough to risk everything. It all felt poisoned, now.
"The Architect's messenger led a sneak attack on the Keep and the Wardens a month ago. Now we've had a face to face encounter with him, but it's still unclear what his ultimate goal is, aside from wiping out the Warden presence in Amaranthine. He's experimenting, studying Wardens and darkspawn… These new talking darkspawn seem like his doing."
"But then where did he come from," Oghren said. "You and I saw a lot of darkspawn magic down there in the Deep, but I never saw one of them buggers that looked like that thing."
"That's the big question, yeah," Tabris said. "My guess is we won't find anything out until we find wherever he's hiding now. Now that we've found and cleared out his little lair, he's not likely to return to it. But there are other darkspawn incursions topside, so there's a chance we could follow them back to the source and find him again. Our best lead there comes from Captain Garevel. Darkspawn have been attacking farmholds and travelers on the outskirts of the arling for weeks. Too organized to be horde stragglers. But the Captain tells me we have a couple of hunters that tripped over an entrance to the Deep Roads and a whole mess of 'spawn. I think following that lead is our best bet, moving forward."
"And where is this entrance?" asked Nathaniel.
"The hunters are waiting to see us in person, in the city proper. Probably hoping for coin in exchange for the location. So, we'll head to the city to restock and interview the hunters. From there, the Deep Roads."
"If I may… How much time are we likely to spend in the city?"
"A day and a night," Tabris said. "So once we're done getting supplies and we've got the information we need, you're free to go wherever you please, as long as you're ready to leave first thing the next morning."
Nathaniel smiled gently. "Thank you, Commander, I appreciate that."
"Family is important," Tabris said, her expression softening. "You need to take the time you can."
Velanna puzzled over what Tabris could mean, before she remembered-- Nathaniel had mentioned a sister before, hadn't he? A sister whose life he had once feared for. A pang of melancholy thrummed in her chest.
"All right, so that's the plan. One more day here at Vigil's Keep, and then we'll head to the city." The Commander's gaze fell on Velanna, sobering quickly. "Velanna's Joining ceremony will be tomorrow evening. Anders, I'll need you to see me tomorrow afternoon for the preparations."
"Work, work, work," said Anders with an easy smile. So, there was to be magic involved in whatever this "Joining" entailed.
"That's the idea. But that's all for tonight. Dismissed." The Wardens started to clear out, Velanna intending to follow them back to their wing, when Tabris added, "Nathaniel, if you could stay a second?"
As she'd asked, Nathaniel hung back from the others, leaving Velanna with no choice but to trail after Anders and Oghren as they headed for the west wing.
"So," said Anders after a moment or two, glancing back at her in the flickering torchlight. "Velanna. Have I ever told you that I find tattoos on women incredibly attractive?"
"Have I ever told you," she sneered, "that I find most humans physically and morally repulsive?"
Anders looked briefly taken aback. "Good to know!" Velanna took the excuse to turn around and stalk in the other direction, her skin crawling. This was no more appealing than being gawped at like a sideshow in the dining hall had been. Oghren burst into laughter behind her, teasing Anders for his poorly-played hand. She'd rather be lost in this stone prison for a while longer than be subjected to their foolishness for another moment, she decided.
As their voices faded out, however, she realized she had nearly returned to the chamber where Tabris and Nathaniel were still speaking in hushed tones. She froze where she stood, lingering just around the corner.
"...tentions are, but--"
"...mander… re you I've no ill…"
Heart pounding, she strained closer, daring a few more steps.
"Just… give her a little space, please. The last thing she needs right now is unwanted attention."
Velanna's blood rushed in her ears. Were they talking about her?
"You think so little of my character?"
"No, Nathaniel, I think she's traumatized, and it's going to take her some time to adjust. Assuming she even lives through the Joining, which you'd best keep in mind. And I know that's a bitch of a thing, but it's the truth."
Velanna swallowed heavily, willing her heart to thud more quietly, her breath to slow. The Commander had already warned her that becoming a Warden was a permanent change, the resulting changes to her physiology significant and potentially deadly. She hadn't worked out that she might not even make it past her first night. Was it a test of ability, perhaps, or something more dire?
"I'm sorry. I know what you're trying to do. I also know what it's like to be in her position. Just… time and space, okay?"
There was a long pause. Velanna wondered if she had missed a reply when she finally heard Nathaniel's grave voice say, "If that is what you think is best, Commander."
"It is. That's all for now."
Velanna's stomach leapt up into her throat, and she scrambled away, trying to find a less compromising place to have wandered off to as they emerged from the chamber. She ducked into a side room, where a portrait of a severe, dark haired noblewoman with pale eyes, half concealed by a swath of white cloth, hung over a solid-looking desk and a pair of empty bookshelves. Crates lay on the floor, packed with things that would presumably be either moved or sold soon. Velanna had never had much cause to follow human politics, but she sensed the significance, watching the evidence of the castle's previous occupants being stripped away room by room.
She stepped back out of it just as Nathaniel was about to round the corner ahead of her, and the clatter of her boots on the stone floor made him turn.
"Velanna," he said, quietly surprised. "What are you-- Ah, did you lose your way, my lady?"
"I-- yes," she lied. "I'm afraid I got turned around somewhere." She scoffed, feigning dismissiveness. "Blasted human buildings."
Nathaniel hesitated before he offered to be her guide once again. Was he still smarting from the conversation with Tabris? She peered into his face, trying to discern his intentions.
"I don't need your pity, you know," she said after a moment. "If you think that I'm in such pathetically diminished circumstances that I'll fall for… whatever this is, you're wrong." The crease in his brow deepened at that.
"I'm only trying to be a gentleman. You think that my being polite is pity?"
"No. I don't know! I can't figure any of you people out," she groused, and tossed her hands in the air. "Why are you doing this? What do you hope to gain?"
"I'm starting to become very concerned about how people have been treating you," he said, and that only made her angrier.
"That's none of your concern! And it doesn't matter. I don't need you or anyone else coddling me or treating me like-- like some kind of delicate little fool who can't handle her own problems."
Nathaniel didn't get angry, like she expected him to, or storm away, like others had before when she rebuffed them. He just frowned gently, his eyes darting around her face, examining. Sweat prickled on her back.
"If I've given the impression I think you weak, or lacking in some way, I sincerely apologize," he said. "I only wish to be of service. And perhaps get to know you a little better, since we are to be comrades in arms from now on. If you do not share the sentiment, you need not say more. I will leave the matter be." He sighed, some of the severity leaving his face as he did so. "I admire your dedication a great deal, my lady. It is a quality I try to embody myself." He cleared his throat, inclining his head in a slight bow. "That is all I mean to say."
"I murdered dozens of your people," Velanna said plainly. "Most of your kind would have slain me on sight. But you defended me. Told me you would even have done the same. Why?"
"We all make mistakes, my lady," he said. "You were doing what you thought was right and just, given what you thought was true at the time. That's all any of us can do. What we choose to do now, as Wardens, can be our atonement, if we allow it to be."
The sentiment sat oddly with Velanna. Her throat burned. She was so tired, so bone-deep tired of trying to make sense of the sharp turn her life had taken. Nothing made sense anymore. And here she was, entertaining the idea of allowing a human to offer her redemption. Who was he, to presume to know her? To know the weight of what she had done, what she had lost?
What did he have to atone for?
"I will trust your ability to find your own way back," Nathaniel said when she offered him no response. "My apologies for any unwelcome attention I may have given you, Velanna. Good evening." With that, he turned and left her standing alone in the hallway, clenched with undirected frustration.
---
One, two, three, four, five, six, count the bars on the window, the cracks in the stonework, the spiderwebs on the ceiling. Breathe in, then out. Try not to feel the scratch of the bedclothes, unclench your jaw, relax your arms.
Sleep eluded her. There were none of the usual smells and sounds of camp around her; the scouts changing shifts when the hours passed, the gentle creak of wood and nighttime wildlife in the distance. Nothing to drown out the thoughts running over and over and around in circles in her head, like a dog chasing its tail.
She turned to one side, then the other. She laid with her head at the footboard. She even tried laying out her bedroll on the floor, curling up there and shutting her eyes against the reality of the room, trying to imagine she was taking shelter in a cave, as she'd been forced to do before.
After what could have been minutes or hours of this, she gave up. It was a lost cause. Either she would find a different place to sleep, or she would not sleep at all.
She had left behind her things earlier in the day, but somehow, in the dead of night, she didn't trust them to still be there when she returned. After she dressed, she packed away everything in her bag, strapped on her bedroll, and took her staff in hand, slinking out into the hallway and trying to find her way back outside. She had no desire to be seen, so she would need to avoid leaving by the main gate, but surely there must have been another route outside. Following the windows around the outer walls of the castle seemed the best bet, and she did eventually find a side doorway that opened into a walled-in courtyard. The night air was not sweet and fresh and green like it was in the forest--or at least as the forest had been before Velanna set the trees and caravans alight--but it was a welcome change from the musty castle. A little cleverly-applied stoneshaping spell gave her the foothold she needed to scale the courtyard wall, and she landed on her feet on the other side with a thump.
There were fewer guards than she expected standing watch. A symptom of the fact that so many had been killed in the darkspawn attack, perhaps? Velanna had been evading detection by humans with swords since she was old enough to walk, of course, and so she managed to pass unnoticed into the night.
She could see the stars at last, the moon a delicate sliver. She heard crickets in every shadowed corner, an invisible chorus. She closed her eyes, breathed in deeply.
The stable seemed the most likely place. It was out of the way, and quiet, the ceiling a familiar wood panel rather than stone and plaster. The horses… well, the smell wouldn't be Velanna's first choice, but it wasn't too far off from taking halla watch. The beasts were all resting in their stalls, unconcerned by her intrusion. Yes, it would do.
She climbed the ladder up into the hayloft, laying her bed out on a mound of hay and punching it down until she could lie comfortably enough upon it. She could still hear the crickets, as well as the quiet breathing and whuffing of the horses below. Within an hour, she was blessedly asleep.