Chapter 164: Being Left Behind

The time seemed to pass faster after Aedan left – or perhaps it was just not jumping from crisis to crisis every moment. I did paperwork, sparred, read dry political treatises, got to know my staff and my soldiers as individuals, hired a variety of family members of current staff to round out our numbers, made decisions on what parts of the Keep to renovate next and how much of our significant but not unlimited budget to spend on it.

I spent time with Nathaniel; he quizzed me, on everything from Fereldan politics to soldier training to etiquette to international trade, and was less unhappy with my progress in becoming a ‘better noble’ than I was. He gave me a list of books – the ones I should work through next – and instructions as to how to order them from a merchant in Amaranthine.

He’d had some letters from Leliana – more than my one, which I teased him about – and she’d told him that she was going to be delayed returning, but was still promising to come back. I wonder what she’s really up to. Nathaniel tried hard to hide his increasing skepticism, but it wasn’t exactly surprising he was worried.

“She loves you, Nate.”

He nodded. “I know. But sometimes that’s not enough.” He shook his head, almost reminding me of a mabari more than anything. “It’s fine. I’ve made arrangements for Delilah to be recognised as my heir, and her children after her. I will wait forever, if I must.” I hugged him, knowing nothing I could say was going to help.

“How’s Thomas?” I was almost afraid to ask.

“No improvement,” he reported. “Still like a large, simple child. Actually, he may be getting worse? He needs more help with daily activities, like eating and dressing, than he did. I’d rather hoped to have Anders look at him again some day, but that seems unlikely if he’s in Kirkwall.”

Nate stayed a few days, but the loneliness I could see on his face was there the entire time. Alistair and I – and the Wardens – did our best to keep him entertained, but he almost looked to be relieved to be leaving. I hugged him again, and he turned to lead his guard out through the tunnels, some of my soldiers accompanying them to guide and to help with the horses in the steep, narrow parts. Some day I’ll have them mine out a proper tunnel to get in here. If that doesn’t completely thwart Zevran’s attempts at increasing security, I guess.

I got the chance to talk with Felsi, finally, and was immediately impressed by her down-to-earth nature, and by how well she managed Oghren. We talked frankly about my hopes for the tavern, and she seemed to be onboard with what I had in mind – eventually there would be inn rooms and entertainers, in addition to the bar itself, and her ideas for managing it seemed sensible. She politely declined a room in the Keep – even when Oghren tried to suggest they would share a room – and had me in stitches when she explained why.

“No. Thank you, but I’ll be staying in my own room. Oghren can stay with me occasionally if he wishes. I’ve been self-sufficient since I came to the surface, and I don’t intend to stop now. Besides, have you met Oghren? If I stay with him, where am I supposed to go when we fight? I’ll not be left without accomodations because he’s being a sodding ass – or accidentally murder him because we don’t have our own space.” I laughed, and she smirked, but turned serious after a moment. “I just want to be sure – is my employment here dependent on my relationship with him?”

“No! No. Maker, I wouldn’t make anyone but him responsible for his actions.” We both laughed. “I can understand that it might be awkward, if something happens, but we can work around it.”

“If it’s possible, I’d like to have my own room in the tavern. There’s a small third floor – I think probably intended as storage, but we won’t need it for that. It’s just big enough for a couple of rooms. Oghren could keep his room up at the Keep with the Wardens. Would that be permissible? Keeps me close to my work, but gives both Oghren and I space if we need it.”

I smiled at Felsi as her face softened when she talked about the berserker. “I think you have an admirable grasp of the situation. I suspect he’s not an easy man to live with.”

She sighed ruefully. “Aye, well, he isn’t an easy one to just live without, either.” I smirked, and she blushed. “Mind, don’t you go telling him I said that! Nug-humper doesn’t need a bigger head than he’s already got.”

I laughed, while she turned away, fussing with her hair to give herself a chance to let the blush drop. Finally, she sat back and shook her head. “I must be losing my mind.”

“I think that’s called pragmatism, not insanity.” I grinned. “But yes, the third floor of the tavern is yours, if you’d like.”

We talked a bit more about the construction, and what it would take to have the bar open and running for the soldiers – she felt she could open in a limited fashion basically immediately, after all the preparations she and Levi had made for my birthday party. She had connections to bring in a variety of alcohol from all over Thedas – and plans to build a still in the tavern itself to make her own home-brew. Impressed with her organisation and practicality, I gave her the go ahead and asked Levi to help her get whatever she needed to get things running.

Oghren, when I spoke to him later, was somewhat offended – but not really that upset. He wasn’t so articulate, of course, but I assumed that after everything with Branka – and then living alone and doing as he liked for so long – that he didn’t mind having some of his own space. Though I definitely got the impression he’d spend more nights in Felsi’s room than his own, for one major reason if nothing else: it was closer to the tavern.

I spent hours and hours with Levi, going over our books, our budget, the tithes that Cailan had pledged us for the Wardens, and our future plans. It would likely take a year to have the Peak fully staffed, the training programs for the troops – and the visiting soldiers and possibly templars – up and running, and the entire place renovated, but it was going to be magnificent when it was done.

The Keep itself was a rather intimidating place, but with Levi’s help, it had been softened, inside at least, with tasteful rugs and tapestries to break up the stone monotony of the place, constantly burning hearths to keep the chill away, and torches and arcane lamps everywhere to banish dark corners – during the day, anyway. Everyone was treated well, so far, and there had been few disputes, none of which Levi had needed my help to manage.

We had miners on the way – some surface cast dwarves we’d connected with through Sereda; the taxes on the tavern and Mikhael’s smithy, the support from the Crown, and my income from the bola launchers, meant our budget was more than sufficient for what we needed to get done. Levi had made agreements with various farmers and merchants that he’d known from his time as a trader, and we had plenty of materials flowing in to support our population – and our growth.

“Are you happy here, doing this?” I asked him, one day after we’d finished going through the paperwork he’d brought me.

He didn’t stop to consider, just smiled. “Yes, I am. I have a home – for myself, and my extended family – and a rewarding job that I don’t have to travel constantly for. My employer is unusual,” he grinned at me, “but fair, and it helps me reclaim some of my family’s good name. It’s more than I expected, and I am grateful.”

I assured him I didn’t need his gratitude. “You’ve done an incredible amount of work getting the Peak ready and making it run. I couldn’t have done this without you. I’m just glad you’re staying!”

I chatted with Faren, slowly forging a new friendship with the dwarf. He continued to have dreams that gave him pieces of his past year, but pieces didn’t equal resuming relationships as though nothing had ever happened. And my ongoing guilt didn’t help – I still drove him crazy with apologies and trying to be overly solicitous. Our conversations tended to be stilted, which made my heart ache when I considered the easy camaraderie we’d shared before. It’s my fault he lost a year of his life – a somewhat awkward relationship is the least I deserve. He continued to improve though, to the point that he could walk unaided around the Keep, and even begin sparring. Watching him fight with Sigrun – who was still a blushing mess half the time in between coddling him excessively – had me laughing until I felt sick.

I talked with Wynne; she’d agreed to stay until the golems returned from the Deep Roads, and she spent most of her time in the library, though we did call on her to heal a few injuries when soldiers got too enthusiastic with their training. She stayed away from Jowan, which was probably a good thing, I thought.

I told her about my miscarriage, and she held me while I cried on her shoulder. She told me a bit about when she’d been pregnant with Rhys and then had to give him up. And she confirmed – in confidence – that Greagoir had been the father.

“He wasn’t always like he is now,” she insisted. “He was young and handsome, and idealistic. He thought he could protect mages and help people. He wanted to save the world. That’s very attractive when you’re young and your social circle is limited to people you grew up with.”

“I can see that. Sad to see what time did to him.”

“Well, with Rhys ... he didn’t want to let him go any more than I did, but he also had to act like he didn’t care so no one would guess the baby was his. And his Commander guessed anyway – he couldn’t do anything official without proof, but he made Greagoir’s life difficult for a while. And then there was a crackdown in all the Circles after whatever happened at Kinloch twenty-five years ago with Enchanter Remille, and the subsequent unrest, then more recently Anders, then Jowan, Uldred ... it hasn’t been an easy time to be a templar, really.”

“Anything that forced someone to work with Elemena would have been frustrating, I imagine.”

Wynne tsk’d me, but I could see the flash of humour in her eyes.

“And now?” I asked, curious – I had seen very minimal interaction between the two former lovers, but Wynne certainly hadn’t seemed impressed at the Circle when we’d rescued Anders.

“We grew apart long ago. We remain cordial, but...” She sighed. “I am loyal to the Circle – I think it is necessary – but I allowed things to happen under my watch, under his orders ... I can’t deny I disagree with some of the decisions he’s made over the years. I understand why, but there were other paths he could have taken. And that doesn’t make for an easy relationship.”

“And ... Dougal?” I had to admit to honest curiosity – I’d never ended up having a discussion about the grizzled Grey Warden with her, and while initially shocked, the idea that Wynne had some companionship, someone to talk to – even if by letter – made me happy. No one should have to be alone.