This is the second chapter, so if you haven’t read the first one you should probably go do that.
I’ve taken some of the dialogue directly from the game. Full credit to the amazing writers at BioWare for anything I’ve borrowed.
Title: Light in the Shadows
Author: Claire Watson
Fandom: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: A/U, Fix-it
Relationship(s): Elissa Cousland/Alistair Theirin
Content Rating: PG
Warnings: Canon level violence, canon character deaths
Author Notes: Noble Rogue Female Origin, Some dialogue taken directly from the game.
Word Count: 5,961
Summary: Elissa has a lot of things on her mind; the Blight, finding her brother, avenging her family. Firstly, she needs to make sure Oren is safe.
Chapter two
As they approached the tower’s entrance, Leliana shivered. “Something has gone very wrong here. You can feel it.”
“The veil is thin,” said Alistair, none of his usual humour present. “The fade is pushing against it, trying to break through. There will be demons and abominations inside; I know it.”
When they got inside, Knight Commander Greagoir confirmed Alistair’s assessment and explained that he’d sent to Denerim for the Right of Annulment.
“The mages are not defenceless,” argued Elissa. “Some must still live.”
Greagoir shook his head. “If any are still alive, the Maker himself has shielded them. No one could have survived those monstrous creatures. It is too painful to hope for survivors and find…. nothing.”
“I’ll look for survivors.”
“I assure you; an abomination is a force to be reckoned with, and you will face more than one.”
“I have confidence in myself and my companions. I also seek my mother and nephew. Enchanter Wynne agreed to bring them here if they all survived Ostagar. Did they arrive?”
“They did,” replied the Knight Commander. “Enchanter Wynne overstepped her authority; the Circle is not some refuge for dispossessed nobles. Had the tower not been overrun by abominations I would already have asked Lady Eleanor and Lord Oren to find other accommodations. As it is, I’m sorry to say it, but they have likely perished.”
Elissa narrowed her eyes. “I think I’ll investigate that for myself.”
Greagoir’s eyes flicked over Elissa and her companions, lingering over Alistair for a long moment before returning to meet Elissa’s gaze. “A word of caution…once you cross that threshold, there is no turning back. The great doors must remain barred. I will only open them if it is over, and I will only believe it is so if the First Enchanter himself tells me so. If Irving has fallen…then all within the tower will be destroyed.”
“I understand.”
“Then Andraste go with you.”
Elissa spared a moment to wish she’d brought Morrigan with her after all. She’d quickly grown used to the advantage of having a mage to fight at her side, and if even half of what Greagoir said was true, there would be a lot of fighting before the Kinloch Tower could be reclaimed.
Not that her team lacked ability; Alistair’s templar skills would be invaluable, particularly his ability to nullify magic, and Leliana’s talent with a bow would also be appreciated. Still, a mage of Morrigan’s calibre was on a completely different level.
Perhaps there would be mage survivors inside who would be able to help her. Regardless, their course was set.
Squaring her shoulders, Elissa strode into the Apprentice Quarters with Alistair and Leliana at her back. The doors closed behind them with a resounding clang, followed by the sound of the bars falling into place.
v^v^v
The first couple of rooms they investigated looked like dormitories for people of varying ages, from children to young adults. It wasn’t a promising sight; the furniture was overturned and broken, papers were strewn everywhere, and there were indications that a desperate fight had been fought.
Elissa gathered up some of the papers and ignored the bodies of templars and mages that were lying where they’d fallen. At least they seemed somewhat fresh; they’d yet to reach the stage of putrefaction where their identities were unrecognisable.
The door to the north room opened onto a fight. Wynne was at the fore, fighting a demon made of liquid fire. Younger mages were ranged behind her, staffs raised but not releasing spells. Behind them, they’d erected a barrier that protected several children who huddled in relative safety.
Wynne defeated the demon within moments before turning to face Elissa with her staff raised and her face set with determination. “Who are—Elissa?” She lowered the staff. “You survived!”
“Aunty!” As the mages released their barrier, a familiar figure pushed through and ran towards her.
“Oren!” Relief swept through Elissa like a cresting wave. “Thank the Maker; you’re alive.”
Wynne sighed. “I’m sorry to say that the Teyrna fell during the attack on the tower. When the fighting broke out, she intercepted a trio of rage demons and was burned rather badly. By the time backup arrived and the demons were killed, it was already too late. She died heroically; for nearly a minute her bow and sword were the only things between those demons and a group of children.”
Elissa closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She didn’t have time to mourn; Oren was still in mortal danger. “Thank you for doing what you could and for keeping Oren safe.”
“I missed you,” said Oren. “Have you found father yet?”
“Not yet,” said Elissa. “The events at Ostagar changed my plans, and there’s been rather a lot to do. My priority has to be arranging a safe place for you while I take care of everything.”
Oren nodded, then pulled away from her embrace and straightened his shoulders. It was a move Elissa had seen from Fergus whenever he expected bad news, and for a moment the resemblance nearly overset her.
“I won’t be staying here?” The child who’d talked excitedly about swords and dire bunnies was long gone; in his place was a young man.
“Not for much longer,” promised Elissa. “My friends and I are going to clear this tower of abominations and rescue the First Enchanter, but after that, you’ll come with me.”
Alistair coughed. “Is that really wise?” he murmured. “We’re not exactly on a camping trip, you know. He won’t be safe.”
“He’s not safe here either,” Elissa pointed out, before turning back to her nephew. “The problem is that, as a Grey Warden, it’s my duty to fight the Blight. Did Aldous teach you about the Blight yet?”
Oren nodded. “When the Grey Warden Commander came to Highever, Aldous said now was as good a time as any to learn of them. But some of the mages said it’s not really a Blight, that the king just wanted it to be.”
Elissa sighed. “They’re wrong. Why the Archdemon is hiding, I don’t know, but I do know that this is a Blight. With all my heart, I wish I could put aside my Warden duties and concentrate on finding your father, but I can’t. What’s the use of finding him if Highever—and the rest of Ferelden—fall to the Blight?”
Oren’s lips trembled slightly, but he lifted his jaw. “I understand.”
“I know you do,” said Elissa, running her hand over his hair and then down to his shoulder. She gripped it firmly and looked him straight in the eye. “I won’t lie to you Oren, there are tough times ahead. But we’ll pull through, won’t we? We’re Couslands, and we’ll fight until the Maker calls us to his side.”
Oren pressed his lips together firmly and nodded his head.
“That’s right,” praised Elissa. “For now, I have to clear this tower. After that, you’ll come with me for a time until I find a place where you’ll be safe. Then, I need to do something about this Blight. When that’s done, I’ll scour Ferelden from one end to another until I find your father.”
“Mother died, grandfather died, grandmother died…. what if father’s dead? What if you die too?”
“Then you’ll have to carry the Cousland name by yourself. Learn, Oren. Learn from everyone. Get the mages to teach you how magic works; get the knights to teach you to fight. Get merchants to teach you about trading, minstrels about singing, and bards about the game. Learn as much as you possibly can about everything under the sun. Then, when the time is right, destroy Rendon Howe for what he dared to do to us.”
Oren’s eyes narrowed and hardened with determination. “Yes. He will pay.”
“Good. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Elissa looked up to see that everyone was watching them, although they’d drawn back to give them the semblance of privacy. Wynne was standing with Leliana and Alistair next to the barrier that led further into the tower.
“Wynne is coming with us,” said Alistair. His gaze lingered on Oren, but he didn’t say anything. “I explained that we can’t leave until we find the First Enchanter.”
“And we must go quickly,” said Wynne. “We must complete our task before the Knight Commander hears back from Denerim.”
“Then let’s go,” said Elissa.
v^v^v
The journey through the tower was nightmare after nightmare, the only relief being the discovery of Victor, safe and well and hiding in a closet with a mage called Godwin. Victor was delighted to see her, gambolling around her like he was a puppy again.
“I didn’t know you had a mabari,” said Alistair, after he’d been introduced. “I suppose that’s how you were able to help the kennel master at Ostagar so well.”
“He’s magnificent,” cooed Leliana. “So handsome and friendly!”
“He’s also skilled at finding leftover food,” said Wynne dryly. “And even more adept at looking pathetic and starving at mealtimes.”
Elissa laughed. “Victor! Have you been playing your tricks on the mages? Shame on you. The templars are far more likely to fold to your charms.”
That moment of levity aside, the tower was one horror after another. Blood mages, possessed templars, abominations, demons. Wynne wasn’t nearly as good at combat as Morrigan but was well-versed in healing spells, so it evened out in the end.
Elissa found the grimoire that Morrigan had asked her to keep an eye out for in the First Enchanter’s quarters. It was strange that Wynne didn’t mention her slipping the book into her pack, but then perhaps Wynne’s mind was on other things.
The sloth demon nearly beat them. Their eerie experience in the fade left Elissa wondering whether up was down, and in three subsequent fights found herself trying to turn into a golem so she could hurl a rock, or the burning corpse so she could throw a fireball.
Given Uldred’s actions, watching him turn into a pride demon didn’t surprise Elissa at all. That fight was hard—not least because of the need to recite the Litany of Adralla whenever it looked like one of the remaining mages was being attacked—but not as difficult as the sloth demon had been.
Escorting the First Enchanter back through the tower should have felt like a victory. Elissa’s team had triumphed over staggering odds, ending the disruption and chaos that would no doubt have fit neatly into Loghain’s plans. With the tower and the Circle once again safe and stable, and the inhabitants predisposed to think kindly of Grey Wardens, Elissa had succeeded on more than one battlefield.
Looking at the destruction—bodies of those killed to fuel the blood magic and those who’d been possessed alongside others who’d died simply for being in the way of Uldred’s ‘revolution,’—Elissa found it hard to feel anything but numb.
So much death and destruction, and for what? How would this desecration make things better for mages? This type of rebellion would only stoke fear; mages in Circles everywhere would feel the results.
Finding Oren was still safe in the Apprentice Quarters lifted her spirits, as did Wynne’s request to join Elissa’s group on a more permanent basis.
They walked out of the tower as a new day was dawning.
“I can’t believe how happy I am to get some fresh air,” said Alistair, breathing deeply. “Is it just me, or was that the longest night there has ever been?”
“It did seem to take forever,” Elissa agreed. She looked at the boat. Their party had grown since they crossed the lake, and the small craft wouldn’t carry four adults, a child and a dog. “Who wants to volunteer to play ferryman?”
“Can’t we just cross over and send Kester back to pick up the second group?” asked Leliana.
Elissa frowned at her. “Who’s Kester?”
“He’s the usual ferryman,” replied Wynne. “I suppose Greagoir removed his access to his boat. I can’t imagine that would have gone down well.”
“Why don’t the rest of you go across?” suggested Elissa. “Oren, Victor and I will wait for Kester to come and get us.”
“I could wait with you,” offered Alistair immediately. “What if there are still demons hiding nearby?”
Elissa shook her head. “Thank you for the offer, but I think we’ll be safe enough here. In the unexpected event that something lingers, Victor and I can take care of it. We can take anything short of a pride demon, and if necessary we can always retreat to the tower.”
Alistair frowned, but didn’t argue. Leliana and Wynne agreed, and soon the three of them set off.
It was two hours before Kester pulled up at the dock, two hours that Elissa took full advantage of. With only Victor and Elissa as witnesses, Oren relaxed enough to cry, the first proper tears Elissa had seen from him since the terrible night when their world fell apart..
Elissa held Oren close, rocking him gently. Victor sat with them, leaning heavily against her leg while keeping his ears pricked for danger.
“I’m sorry,” said Oren, once his tears were done. “I know I have to be brave, but it’s hard.”
“I know,” murmured Elissa. “I don’t expect you not to grieve, Oren; being brave doesn’t mean forgetting those we’ve lost. In private, or with people you trust, it’s okay to show weakness and fear. In public and with people we’re uncertain of, that’s when we keep up the façade.”
Oren thought about that. “Who can I trust, then?”
Elissa sighed. “Right now? No one, to be honest. Do you remember me talking about sending you to your grandmother’s family in Donnelly? When we only had Howe’s treachery to worry about, it seemed like a good idea. Howe doesn’t have the wealth or the contacts to plant spies and assassins good enough not to be noticed there. But Ostagar changed things.”
“Because Teyrn Loghain does have the wealth and the contacts,” said Oren. “Grandmother told Wynne that the timing was too good for it to be anything other than a plan. That it made political sense for Loghain and Howe to kill the higher-ranked nobles holding them back and then support each other in the Landsmeet.”
“Exactly,” said Elissa. “I can’t send you to Donnelly, because Loghain already knows you survived, and that will be the first place anyone would look. I can’t take you around with me because that would be even more dangerous. I think I’ve figured out a solution, but it will mean that you might have to stay with strangers for a year or two.”
Oren frowned. “Where?”
“There’s a lost Warden fortress in the mountains of the Coastlands, said to be overrun by spirits and demons. No one’s sure where it is, or if it crumbled to ruins long ago. I met a man, a trader, who said that he can get us there. He wants to search the ruins for something and needs my help to keep him safe.”
Oren wrinkled his nose. “I think I’ve had enough of demons and spirits, Aunty.”
“Me too,” agreed Elissa. “Even if we can’t clear the fortress, I thought Levi might agree to add you to his family caravan. It would have to be under an assumed name—at least until you’re reunited with me or your father, perhaps until you’re a grown man—but I think you could be safe with them.”
“Would there be other children?”
“I’m sure there are a couple, at least.”
Oren took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Then that sounds okay.”
They sat in silence for a while. Elissa stroked Oren’s hair the way she used to when she read him bedtime stories. They watched together as the boat made its slow return, the sound of the oars pushing through water getting louder.
Just before the boat docked, Oren asked quietly, “Will Victor stay with me or go with you?”
Elissa looked at Victor. “That’s up to him, I guess. And Levi.” As much as she missed her mabari companion, perhaps Oren really did need him more. She raised her eyebrow at Victor, trying to get a read on his thoughts.
Victor whined, looking between the two of them. Keeping his eyes on her face, he gently rested his chin in Oren’s lap.
Elissa smiled. “I think he’s made his choice.” It would be hard on both her and Victor but taking care of Oren was more important than their comfort.
v^v^v
The journey from the Calenhad Docks to where Levi was waiting for them was slower than the one from Lothering. Oren couldn’t move as fast as the rest of them and needed more frequent rests.
Sten, the one Elissa had privately identified as being the only one who would object to the reduction in speed, was fascinated by both Oren and Victor. “I’m confused,” he told her one night after Oren was asleep. “When I came to Ferelden, I believed all humans were weak and callow. Then, I thought perhaps you were a rare exception. Now there is this child, capable and strong, answering to the command of duty with the same willpower I’ve seen in the most stalwart warriors.”
“People are people, Sten,” Elissa replied. “It’s dangerous to make blanket statements about what people are like in any culture. That kind of thinking leads to war and suffering, and while war is sometimes inevitable and necessary, it should never be the desired outcome.”
Sten frowned at her. “Are you not a soldier, a warrior? What are you for, if not to wage war for your people?”
“I’m a warrior so that I can defend that which is mine against those who would use their might to harm them.” Elissa shook her head. “It’s a fundamental difference in cultural outlook.”
Sten left it there, but Elissa noticed him watching them even more closely than usual over the next few days.
On the way to the meeting spot, they were waylaid several times. The first involved a man Elissa remembered from Ostagar, a member of King Cailan’s honour guard. He was already too badly wounded for Wynne to heal him, but had enough time left to explain how he came to be there.
Elric had seen Loghain’s betrayal first-hand, witnessed King Cailan’s death at the hands of an ogre, then fled the field. He was captured by Bann Loren, who’d thrown his support behind the new Regent. After imprisonment and torture, Elric finally managed to escape, only to be hunted down by Bann Loren’s soldiers.
“But the key!” Elric gasped out. “The key to the arms chest. The king said I was to give it to the Grey Wardens. Documents, letters… But I hid it in the camp. Near the mages, at the base of a statue.”
“I’ll find it,” promised Elissa. “You’ve fulfilled your duty.”
Perhaps the knowledge of his failure had been the only thing tying him to life. At Elissa’s words, he slipped away with a sigh.
Elissa got to her feet. “I guess that means we’ll be returning to Ostagar.” If King Cailan wanted the hidden documents and letters to go to the Grey Wardens rather than his father-in-law and foremost general, then perhaps he’d already begun to suspect the conspiracy against him. Either way, it would be worth going to get them before meeting with Arl Eamon.
That night, Morrigan asked Elissa to join her by her fire for a discussion about what she’d discovered in the grimoire Elissa had found for her at Kinloch. Elissa listened to Morrigan describe the horrific truth behind Flemeth’s long life, how the spirit or demon possessing her continued to exist by birthing and raising a suitable host so it could possess them in turn.
“But why would Flemeth send you with me?” asked Elissa, sure there was a hole in this somewhere.
“I do not know” replied Morrigan. “Perhaps it is as she said, and the darkspawn threaten her as much as they threaten everyone else. Or perhaps she believes that the journey will make me more powerful. According to the tome, if the…host…is already powerful and trained in magic, it takes Flemeth less time to…settle in.”
Elissa sighed. “You plan to do something about this, I take it?”
That’s when Morrigan revealed the real reason she wanted to talk privately. The journey back to Ostagar would lead them right to the edge of the Korcari Wilds, and Morrigan hoped to convince Elissa to slay Flemeth, thereby ending the threat of possession.
“You really want me to kill your mother?”
“I doubt she will truly be dead,” said Morrigan dismissively. “But it will take her years to find a new host and recover her power. The thing I must have is her true grimoire. With it, I can defend against her power in the future.”
Elissa didn’t know enough about magic to know if what Morrigan was talking about was feasible or not. There was no point asking Wynne; the two mages couldn’t agree on anything as it was. “I’ll see what I can do,” she said eventually. It would be several weeks at least before they were back in the south of Ferelden, which would give her some time to think about it.
The next day they walked into an ambush. Not just any ambush; their opponents were skilled fighters, and they had their own mage.
As they’d planned, Oren dashed to the closest friendly mage, Wynne, who increased the barrier she’d surrounded herself with slightly to accommodate him. With Morrigan there to throw fire, ice, and electrical spells around, Wynne could focus on healing and rejuvenation spells. Leliana stood nearby with her bow, daggers easily accessible if anyone tried a sneak attack.
The rest of them went on the offensive.
Elissa headed directly to the mage; she knew just how much damage one of them could do in a short time and wanted to get her out of the way first. She’d covered half of the distance when the enemy mage was hit by one of Morrigan’s spells and just….fell down dead.
Robbed of her target, Elissa ducked around the wagon and moved swiftly to take out the archers on the left bank, sneaking up behind the first two and severing their spinal cords in a single, swift move. The third archer noticed what was happening and turned to fight, dropping her bow and pulling a dagger, but Elissa kicked it out of her hand before cutting her throat in a spinning move that she’d picked up from Leliana.
By the time she’d finished her spin, the fight was over.
Stopping long enough to grab the coin pouches from the three archers she’d just killed—it wasn’t like they were going to need them anymore—Elissa made her way back to the group.
Leliana had stooped to dismantle some traps, Wynne was trying to get Sten to submit to an examination, Alistair was poking at the bodies, and Morrigan looked as though she was berating Victor, while Oren looked on, smiling.
“Wait a minute,” said Alistair, alarmed. “This one’s not dead.” He bent over the elf that had seemed to be leading this group of assassins. “He’s coming around.”
“Let him wake,” commanded Elissa. “I want to know exactly what this was all about.”
The elf was an Antivan Crow by the name of Zevran. He’d been hired by Teyrn Loghain and his lackey, the new Teyrn of Denerim, Rendon Howe. His instructions were to kill the remaining Grey Wardens, and any who travelled with them.
“Was anyone other than me and Alistair mentioned? By name or description?” asked Elissa, eyes narrow. Did Howe even know that Oren was still alive? She didn’t want to come right out and ask; it might draw the attention she was hoping had been avoided.
“No,” replied Zevran, eyes flicking over to Oren. “And I promise you, my lady, that had I known there was a child involved I would not have taken this job.”
Elissa sighed. “What now?”
Zevran smiled. “I have a suggestion, if I may. The Crows will think I am dead, and it happens that that suits me fine. Why don’t I serve you instead?”
“What’s to stop you just finishing the job later?”
Zevran shrugged. “My life is already forfeit; I would gain nothing by doing so. Better for me to fade from their notice.”
“You’ve already seen I have powerful enemies,” Elissa pointed out. “If you travel with me then the Crows might well discover that you still live.”
“In which case, it would benefit me to have companions capable of defeating even the Crow’s finest assassins!” Zevran smiled, charming and roguish. “I also have other talents that you might find useful.” He gave her a suggestive look.
Elissa was torn. Logically, she should kill him now and be done with it. The possible repercussions of betrayal were too terrible to imagine. Yet, she couldn’t help but believe him when he said he wanted to leave the Crows, when he promised to serve her in exchange for his life. “Fine.”
Morrigan and Alistair immediately objected, amusingly only the second time they’d agreed with one another on anything since they’d met.
“I’ve made my decision,” snapped Elissa, glaring them down. “Zevran, I’ll expect you to let me know if you see any signs that the Crows might be on our trail again.”
“Of course,” replied Zevran. “Although, one of the Crows calling cards is that we don’t leave signs of our passage, so that might be difficult. Regardless, I hereby pledge my loyalty to you until such a time as you release me from it. I am your man without reservation, this I swear.” He fell in beside Leliana, the only one of Elissa’s growing band of companions that seemed truly pleased to have him join them.
Elissa turned to see Sten staring at her again. She raised her eyebrow, waiting to see if he would offer his opinion on her choices again. When he remained silent, her gaze moved to Wynne.
Wynne just shook her head. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
Elissa’s responding smile showed her teeth. “Hope is such an important part of life, wouldn’t you say? After all, going into the mage’s tower to rescue the First Enchanter was no doubt a foolish waste of time. The logical, sensible decision would have been to let the Knight Commander annul the Circle. Yet I chose the risky option, and now we have mage support against the Blight.”
“I’m worried that you’re allowing your personal concerns to interfere with your task,” replied Wynne. “A Grey Warden must be focused on the Blight.”
Elissa was starting to get a little sick of all the gentle lectures. Did Wynne really think that Elissa didn’t know what her duty was? What personal concerns was she speaking of? Oren? If Wynne thought Elissa’s determination to see her nephew safe was a mistake, she could shove her staff up her ass. “Zevran will be useful.” Her tone made it clear that she didn’t intend to talk about this anymore.
Wynne got the hint—it wasn’t particularly subtle, after all—and desisted her ‘guidance’… for the present, at least.
Cleaning up the ambush site and incinerating the bodies so that they wouldn’t get possessed and bother the next group of travellers didn’t take long. Zevran wasn’t the least bit squeamish about searching them for valuables or stacking them in a heap.
When Elissa asked him if he’d known them long, he laughed.
“I hired them a few days ago, in Denerim. In fact, three of them were planning to poison tonight’s dinner and share the spoils amongst themselves.”
“No honour amongst thieves?”
Zevran shrugged. “In my experience, there is little honour to be had in the world in general. It’s possible that growing up in a whorehouse has jaded my thinking somewhat. In their defence, they’d never promised not to kill me.”
“You’re very pragmatic.”
“I have many good qualities.” Zevran waggled his eyebrows. “I’d be happy to show them to you later.”
Elissa laughed. “Nice try. Come on; I think we’re done here.”
Oren was still with Morrigan, which was a little surprising. At first, Oren hadn’t been sure what to make of the dark-haired, acerbic mage. Her tendency to keep to herself and her disinclination to indulge in light conversation hadn’t endeared her to the generally friendly boy, and Elissa hadn’t wanted to push either into a situation they didn’t like.
This was the first proper fight Oren had witnessed though, and in the wake of the action, he’d attached himself to Morrigan quite firmly.
Morrigan looked harried and annoyed, but that didn’t stop her from offering Oren something that he promptly put into his mouth.
Curious, Elissa joined them.
Morrigan turned from Oren to scold her for allowing Zevran to join them, too. “It will serve you right if he kills you in your sleep.”
“He’s not going to kill me in my sleep, Morrigan.” At least if she were wrong, she wouldn’t be around to have everyone tell her, ‘I told you so.’
Morrigan sniffed. “And this unwashed child is annoying me. Take him away before I turn him into something small enough to fit into my pot.”
Elissa rolled her eyes. “Come on, Oren. Are you okay? You weren’t hurt in the fight?”
Oren shook his head. “Wynne’s barrier kept me safe. Did you see Morrigan’s spells? She was throwing fireballs, actual fireballs! And one time, she made a man freeze so hard that when Alistair bashed him with his shield, he broke into little pieces!”
“Morrigan’s pretty amazing,” Elissa agreed. “What’s that you’re eating?”
Oren opened his mouth and showed her something nearly black that, even from a distance, smelled of aniseed. “Morrigan gave it to me. She said it was to shut me up, but it’s really nice.” He lowered his voice. “I think Morrigan says a lot of mean things that she doesn’t really mean. She yells at Victor a lot, too, but yesterday she gave him a whole rabbit that she said was too disease-ridden to cook. It wasn’t, though; it was perfectly fine. I checked.”
Elissa smiled at him. “I think you’re right. That’s some good character assessment you’ve done. Anything you want to tell me about my other companions?”
Oren took her half-joking request seriously, narrowing his eyes in thought. “I don’t know about Zevran. He did try to kill us, after all. On the other hand, I like his voice, and the way he talks reminds me of mother. I guess we’ll have to wait and see what happens. He’s not as scary as Sten.”
“Are you scared of Sten?”
“A bit,” Oren admitted. “He’s so big! He frowns a lot, like Morrigan, but he doesn’t talk much. I don’t really know much about him other than he doesn’t like mages. Wynne is nice; she always wants to know how I’m doing. She reminds me of Mother Mallol sometimes, she always wants to turn everything into a lesson about duty or obedience.”
“She does, doesn’t she?” agreed Elissa. “What else?”
“Leliana…” Oren’s nose wrinkled. “She tells a lot of stories and talks about the Maker a lot. She’s nice, but she annoys me. She never lets me say I don’t like something without trying to change my mind. Or, when I said that I hate Howe and Loghain and want to kill them, she told me that it was important that I forgive them. I don’t want to forgive them!”
Elissa hugged him. “You don’t have to.”
“She said that forgiveness brings us closer to the Maker, and that if Andraste could forgive Archon Hessarion then I should be able to forgive Howe.”
Elissa raised her eyebrows. “Andraste didn’t have to watch Hessarion’s men murder her mother and grandfather on his orders. Also, there was a war on. She was fighting the Imperium, not the Archon personally. The situations aren’t remotely alike.” She hugged him again. “Tell you what. Once we’ve killed Howe and those who supported his betrayal, then you can work on forgiving him.”
Oren nodded. “I like the sound of that better.”
“That only leaves Alistair.”
Oren brightened. “I like Alistair. He made me a sword out of wood and started showing me different forms. He said as soon as I get my stance right, he’ll find me a light shield and start teaching me how to use them together, as Father does.”
“He has? Do you want to show me?”
Oren agreed enthusiastically, holding an imaginary blade and moving carefully into position.
Since Alistair had checked with Elissa that it would be okay before he’d even approached Oren with his crudely made wooden sword, Elissa was already aware of her nephew’s budding swordsmanship.
She still made a point of admiring the moves he showed her. They were basic blocks, all of them defensive rather than offensive. “You’ve picked that up fast!”
Oren flushed with pleasure. “I wanted to learn to smash people with a shield the way Alistair does, but he says I have to have a solid defence before I can learn to attack.”
“He’s right,” agreed Elissa. “I remember Fergus complaining about that same thing.”
“Alistair makes a lot of jokes,” said Oren, “even about scary things. He doesn’t make mean jokes though, and I think he’s trying to make me laugh so I feel better. One time, he said that there are times you either laugh or cry, and that laughing is less likely to blur your vision.”
Elissa nodded. “That’s true. So, you like him then?”
“He’s very brave,” replied Oren. “He watches you a lot when you’re not looking. When I asked him why, he said that he’d never met anyone like you before.” He blinked. “Oh, and he asked me not to tell you. Oops.”
Elissa flicked a glance back at Alistair, who was in conversation with Wynne at the rear of their group. “Really? Well, you should probably apologise for spilling the beans then.”
Oren nodded. “I’ll go do that now.”
Elissa was left to walk alone and consider this new information. She’d noticed Alistair, of course. He was handsome and talented and often amusing. She’d just been so caught up with the Blight and her family problems that she’d not really thought about what those things could mean on a personal level.
One advantage of being a Grey Warden was that she was no longer on the hook to make an advantageous marriage. Not that her parents would have made her marry where without affection. They wouldn’t even insist that her chosen husband be a member of the nobility. They’d been entirely behind Fergus’ courtship of Orianna, who was the daughter of an Antivan merchant and not noble in any way.
Elissa’s freedom had been limited, though. While no one in her family cared about what she got up to behind closed doors, she was expected to choose her lovers carefully from those who knew how to be discreet. No visits to brothels, regardless of how intriguing she found the idea.
But now that she was a Grey Warden, she could do whatever she liked with whomever she liked.
The sound of Wynne’s laughter made Elissa look back again, just in time to see Alistair pull his gaze away from her. Wynne’s laughter grew louder, and Alistair’s face flushed with embarrassment.
Elissa smiled to herself. Maybe, once she’d managed to ensure Oren’s safety for the near future, she’d have a talk with Alistair about where he wanted to go with this.