There and Back Again Ch. 117-118

At first it was nice, having nothing to do; Alistair and I spent days in bed together, barely rising to talk to our friends, see the returning patrols, and spend time with my brother -- we made love, talked about our future, and caught up on a year's worth of missed sleep. But eventually we were well-rested, well-loved, and though our nights would remain passionate for the foreseeable future, we were looking for other things to do.

I began working with Kallian, trying to think of what things would be needed in the Alienage before the building was completed; Aedan, Alistair, and the other Wardens still in Denerim began working with the Palace Guards, the City Guards, the new elven militia, and the remaining soldiers who needed combat training.

Plans for the Alienage were coming along; there were going to be more than enough apartment-style homes for all of the elves, with plenty extra left over for population growth, and Cailan had agreed to allow some official stores to open, instead of the unofficial, illegal ones that had existed before. One large building was going to be used as a school, a meeting place, and chapel for Chantry services; Mother Boann had somehow gotten clearance to begin holding services weekly, and hoped that between the Chantry and my donation, she'd be able to begin teaching the children reading, writing, and numbers once the Alienage was restored.

Building began within three weeks, and with many of the returning elves helping out as unskilled labour, and the dwarven stone masons -- who didn't discriminate against 'knife ears' -- plus surplus army soldiers with some experience, construction wasn't going to take long. Cailan heard from Nathaniel, who'd arrived in Amaranthine unscathed, and he promised to send the stonemasons to the Vigil as soon as they could be spared in Denerim.

I received my first messages from Soldier's Peak; Levi reported that some parts of the fortress had been 'satisfactorily' reclaimed, whatever that meant, and that Avernus had not caused any problems. He confirmed he had more than enough coin to continue cleaning up and furnishing the rooms, and he had hired some maids, cooks, and other staff to assist and make the place livable once we moved in. Faren had scrawled a quick note praising the soldiers that had been assigned there; apparently there had been a few more undead rise periodically, and they had fared well defeating them. Jowan added that he'd been helping Avernus as he was able, and hadn't seen any sign of worrisome blood magic or shady research.

By the time the Weisshaupt delegation arrived in Denerim -- by boat from Cumberland -- seven weeks after we arrived in the city, the temporary camps outside the city gates had been abandoned, half of the planned housing had been built, and the elves had retained their rights to carry arms within the Alienage -- and join the city guard. To my surprise, Eamon had worked exceptionally well with Kallian, and even seemed to hold a grudging respect for the petite brunette, who combined common sense and a desire for equality for her people in a way that impressed everyone, no matter how much above her in station they were. And the dwarves had left for Amaranthine, satisfied that the Alienage would be finished appropriately without their help. Most of the army, which had not been officially disbanded, were also sent to Amaranthine, to defend against the eventual darkspawn attack I knew would come.

The group from Weisshaupt included six Wardens, more than I expected to travel all the way to Ferelden; out of sheer paranoia, Aedan and Alistair kept me well away from them at all times, and as such I didn't even know what they looked like. Cailan, Aedan, Alistair, and Riordan met the group at the docks once word of their arrival reached us, and they came to the Palace, immediately sequestering themselves in meetings.

In bed, late that night after not seeing my husband for almost the entire day, Alistair told me that so far there had just been a lot of bluster, the representatives angry that Duncan had broken them away, but it seemed we were right -- there wasn't much they could do about it. They had raised several concerns, none of which worried Aedan or Alistair much.

They implied that there were secrets of the Order that they were unaware of, and Aedan's response was that, if Duncan, in the middle of a Blight, hadn't needed to know, we didn't need to either.

They had asked whether Aedan and Alistair had really been the leaders, assuming that Duncan and Riordan had done everything, but everyone had insisted that the two current Warden-Commanders had been the ones to collect most of the treaties, and had worked with Lanaya, Greagoir, Irving, and Sereda to sign new ones.

They tried implying Aedan and Alistair were too young, too green for command, but Cailan and Riordan both backed them up, and when asked which of the delegates had experience in gathering an army to combat the Blight or in fighting an Archdemon, the silence was response enough. They might have been young, but my husband and brother were probably the most experienced Wardens in Thedas.

The delegates were expected to stay for several more days, and I promised Alistair to stay away, continuing my work with Kallian and Eamon, until they were gone. Eamon seemed much happier with Isolde and Connor back; I didn't see the Arlessa or their son much, but their impact on Eamon's state of mind was huge. He was almost polite, even to me. The problem for me was there wasn't much left to do. The plans had been finalised, the construction almost complete, and Kallian was spending her days in the Alienage organising the work and supervising the construction itself. And all the strange Wardens around had my skin itching from the taint, and it took far too much concentration to ignore the sensation. Somehow it bothered me less when I knew the Wardens responsible.

So I found myself wandering the Palace halls, admiring the tapestries, getting lost and having to work my way back, until I found myself in a library I hadn't known existed. It was dusty, obviously long-unused, a large chamber with enormous bay windows covered by thick curtains. I opened the drapes, but despite that, only weak light shone through the dirty windows; it was enough that I didn't need to light a lantern, and I spent a while browsing titles. Most of them were familiar -- histories of Thedas, treatises on the evils of the Tevinter Imperium, old political dissertations. Many of the same books graced the shelves in Redcliffe's library, and I imagined most of the castles around Ferelden would be similar.

There was one section full of fiction, which I perused with more interest; I blushed and quickly put back one book I picked up, titled "Antivan Nights"; I had thought it might be a Thedosian "Arabian Nights", but the salacious images I accidentally flipped past had me stuttering at my silly mistake. I was looking for something less racy when I heard footsteps, and an unfamiliar head poked through the door into the dusty room.

"Hello," I called out.

A dark-haired, slender elf in an immaculate uniform stepped hesitantly into the room. "I apologise, your Highness. I don't mean to disturb you."

"It's no problem. I'm surprised to see anyone else in this ridiculously dusty library, I admit, but it's no bother. And please, call me Sierra."

The elf took a few more steps inside, seemingly encouraged by my lack of angry outburst. "The Lady Anora requested something to read. She didn't give me a particular title, though, so I'm somewhat anxious about choosing a book." He wrung his hands together nervously.

"Well, let me see. She's probably read all of those before," I gestured at the two walls covered in histories and politics. "How about we grab a couple of these story books, one thick dry political history, and...here." I picked up "Antivan Nights" and set it on the pile. "Be sure to let her know I chose this one for her. Tell her you chose the rest, but don't take credit for this one, okay?"

The elf nodded vigourously, clearly still nervous. "Of course, my Lady." I winced at the honourific, but at least it wasn't 'your Highness'. "Thank you. I'll just take these to her right away."

I was still giggling at my own prank when someone else slowly approached, and I turned to see who else was joining me in the room that probably hadn't seen so much activity in years. "Who's there?"

A thin, red-headed man, another elf, stepped through the door, and smiled awkwardly. He had long hair held back by a simple leather thong, and was wearing a wrinkled pair of trousers and a brown, loose tunic. He had a smooth, well-healed scar from the corner of his lips down to his chin, which slightly distorted his mouth when he spoke.

"Pardon me, m'Lady. Just looking for something to read." His accent was different, something I didn't recognise. I wondered if he was one of the elves Kallian had hired from the Alienage to help out until everything at the Palace had settled down. Perhaps his scar affects his voice too? He clearly didn't recognise me, and it was a bit of a relief.

"No problem; help yourself." I gestured at the shelves, and he stepped inside softly.

"Find something to read for yourself?"

"Oh, I wasn't even looking that hard. I'm just bored, but reading Thedosian history or some naughty romance novel doesn't appeal to me."

He ignored the comment about the erotica, and raised an eyebrow at me. "Bored?"

"Well, my husband and my brother and all our friends are busy, but I'm not supposed to leave the Palace...so yeah, bored."

"Your husband?"

I was distracted by sneezing, having stirred up some dust as I flipped through a children's short story collection. "Hmm? Oh, yes. Sorry. I'm Sierra Theirin -- my husband is Alistair Theirin."

"Oh, your Highness, I apologise..."

I waved my hand dismissively. "Please, just Sierra. It's fine, really. What sort of book are you looking for?"

We chatted for a few minutes about the pros and cons of Brother Genitivi's writing, which I hadn't actually read, but having met the man I felt like he'd be a pretty decent writer.

"You've met Brother Genitivi?"

"Well, yes, in Haven with the Wardens...he was captured by a dragon cult and my husband and brother rescued him..."

"Sierra? Love?" Alistair's voice, faint but audible, drifted in from outside.

I stopped and stepped to the door, poking my head out to see my husband and brother come around a corner next to the library. "Here! I'm just looking at some books, and talking to..." I turned back to the elf, whose face looked slightly flushed for some reason. "I'm sorry, I don't know your name."

The elf opened his mouth to reply, just as Aedan gasped and Alistair interrupted. "Warden Constable Torpin."

Chapter One Hundred Eighteen: Identity Crisis

"Sierra? Love?" Alistair's voice, faint but audible, drifted in from outside the library where I'd been loitering all afternoon.

I stopped and stepped to the door, poking my head out to see my husband and brother come around a corner next to the library. "Here! I'm just looking at some books, and talking to..." I turned back to the elf, whose face looked slightly flushed for some reason. "I'm sorry, I don't know your name."

The elf opened his mouth to reply, just as Aedan gasped and Alistair interrupted. "Warden Constable Torpin."

I felt Alistair's hands settle at my waist from behind possessively.

I gaped. It hadn't occurred to me to ask who the elf was, and with my unconscious, stupid human bias, it never occurred to me that an unimposing-looking elf would be anything other than a servant. Stupid, stupid, stupid, Sierra. Once I thought about it, I could feel the taint radiating off of the elf; I'd been working so hard at ignoring the feeling since the Weisshaupt delegates had arrived that I hadn't noticed.

I spent a few seconds rethinking our conversation, trying to remember if I'd said anything to the man that I shouldn't have. He had probably figured out that something was strange -- I realised that much of what we'd discussed made little sense, now that I thought about it. An elf from the Alienage would likely be completely illiterate, never mind having read Genitivi's histories. And he wasn't as servile as the other city elves I'd met -- I was so happy not to be seen as intimidating that I hadn't noticed. He either thought I was an idiot, or he had figured out there was more going on with me than with some typical Thedosian noblewoman. I slapped myself on the forehead.

"You knew exactly who I was. You came looking for me."

Torpin flushed again and nodded. "We were curious about you. It's...unusual for Wardens to be married, more so for them to travel with their non-Warden spouses. We suspect you know far more about the Order than a non-Warden should. And the fact that they were so adamant against bringing you to the meetings made us wonder what they were hiding."

Aedan stepped forward, face red with fury, as Alistair pulled me behind him protectively. "Listen to me, Warden-Constable. I'll say this precisely one time. My sister has been through enough. And she is not a Warden -- even if we were still part of your Order, she is not. You have no authority here. Speak to her again, try to reach her in any way, and I will send you back to Weisshaupt in a box."

Aedan and Alistair shared a quick glance, and then with a nod, Alistair turned, wrapping his arm around my waist, and practically dragged me out of the library, leaving Aedan alone with the Weisshaupt Warden. I could hear the elf objecting as I was ushered away, but Aedan's clipped response was too quiet to make out.

Alistair didn't speak the entire way back to our room, and I just accompanied him meekly, wondering how much trouble I was in. I had to admit that not finding out who the elf was before chatting with him was rather stupid, but I didn't think I'd said anything that would betray my excessive knowledge of Grey Warden secrets, or anything about myself he wasn't supposed to know.

Once we got to our room, Alistair ushered me through the door, and I dejectedly walked inside a few steps. I heard Alistair lock the door behind us, and I sighed and reluctantly turned around.

He surprised me, then, by pulling me into a tight hug, burying his face in my hair and squeezing me to him like I would disappear.

"Are you alright?"

I snuggled into his shoulder, wrapping my arms around his waist. Not for comfort, but just because I enjoyed the intimacy. "I'm fine, Alistair. Nothing happened. I didn't even know I had a problem until you showed up! I'm glad you found me before I said anything stupid."

"You wouldn't have." He released me and climbed onto the bed, sitting with his back against the headboard. He patted the spot next to him, and I cuddled up beside him again. "Will you tell me what you did talk about?"

Trying to explain my insanely silly brain fart was extremely embarrassing. After I went through the conversation, as far as I could remember, I tried anxiously to justify myself.

He chuckled teasingly. "So you had a conversation about history books and Chantry scholars, with an unknown elf you somehow assumed was a servant -- despite not acting or dressing like a servant, and being far too well educated."

"I was distracted! I was too busy being impressed with myself for my prank on Anora. I think he was listening to my conversation with that elf, and knew he could get away with acting less formal with me. And why should I have to demand the name of every person I talk to anyway? How was I supposed to know I'd be ambushed by a Warden? You never told me their leader was an elf..."

I rambled to a stop as Alistair placed a finger over my lips with an amused smile. "I'm not angry -- at least, not at you. It is sort of funny, though." I groaned, and he laughed. "What's all this about a prank on Anora?"

I told him about the selection of books I helped the actual elven servant to choose, and he laughed at my helpless giggles as I related sending the sex book to Anora. "That's cruel!" He pulled me into his lap for a kiss, and my laughter quickly changed to moaning as his lips attacked my sensitive ear.

His voice changed, too, dropping into that husky, sexy timbre he reserved for me alone. "Do you suppose she's done with that book?"

I gasped as his lips trailed down my neck, tilting my head to give him better access. "I...I don't know, but there were more like that, where it came from," I whispered. "I could go get one..."

"Maybe tomorrow, if you're not too exhausted from what I plan to do to you tonight." He shifted me to lay on my back on the bed, looming over me with a predatory smile, and I gulped.

"Bring it on, then."

No one saw us for the rest of the night.

***

Apparently after we'd left, the Weisshaupt contingent insisted on holding a meeting with the rest of Ferelden's Grey Wardens. They painted a bleak picture of being Wardens without the support of the order, and demanded that all of them leave Ferelden and report to another Grey Warden outpost -- either in Orlais, Nevarra, the Free Marches, or Weisshaupt itself. All of our people declined, with the exception of Riordan, Dougal, and Loghain, who were instructed to report to Jader immediately. Riordan agreed to leave as soon as the celebration in Denerim was over -- but they had to detour to Nevarra with Anora first. I bet Weisshaupt is none-too-pleased about that!

The Weisshaupt Wardens were gone the next day; Aedan refused to tell us what had transpired between him and Torpin after Alistair and I left, but my brother was tense and irritable for several days afterwards. Even Zevran had trouble pulling him out of his foul mood, and we all tiptoed around him until Fergus arrived in the capital. I avoided Fergus, not wanting to put a damper on Aedan's renewed good humour by fighting with my liege lord, so I barely saw either Cousland before All Soul's Day.

Sten left the day after that. With his Grey Warden status and some coin gifted to him by Aedan, he managed to purchase passage to Rivain on a merchant ship heading to Dairsmuid; from there it was a mere week's walk to Kont-aar, the last Qunari stronghold on mainland Thedas. Rivain was largely peaceful, even with the Qunari presence, so he was at minimal risk.

He declined anyone walking him to the docks; I knew he would want to avoid emotional displays, and so we bid him farewell at the palace and let him go. I managed to finagle myself one last hug, plastering myself against his stony chest; to my shock, he patted my shoulder awkwardly instead of standing stiffly uncomfortable like normal. I'm actually going to miss him too...huh. It was strange to think that a Qunari had become a part of my family, but that's what had happened.

I presented him with a large bag of cookies, as he left, as well as a card with a recipe for one of his favourites -- oatmeal with raisins. The big softie really does have a sweet tooth. With a nod, he left us and headed to the docks.

I wondered what would happen to him when he got back to Seheron, and if we'd ever see him again. He'd signed an agreement with Aedan for mutual aid against the Blight, choosing to ally himself with us instead of Weisshaupt; Aedan had supplied him with enough Archdemon blood to recruit and keep a small number of Wardens in Seheron for a century, and a recipe for the Joining potion. I hope Qunari Grey Wardens aren't something Thedas comes to fear, down the road...

Riordan had been excessively quiet since the battle had been won, and I finally cornered him after the Weisshaupt group left, convincing him to take a walk with me in the palace's gardens. He looked gaunt, tired, even despite all the time we'd had to rest since returning to Denerim.