Chapter 188: No Place Like Home

We spent a day shopping for supplies for the Peak – Levi had sent me a list – and for provisions for Larus and Arathea. Neither had much for clothing or personal items, so while Alistair took Larus to get some proper, warm, Fereldan menswear, I took Arathea to buy her dresses, pants, sleepwear, and warm outer wear.

I slipped in a few luxury items as well – nice-smelling soaps, a few cosmetics, some lacy underwear – mostly because it was fun to watch her lose her mind. She was a lovely companion, really, sweet and kind, and yet somehow she came across as completely sheltered and naïve. As a slave she’d never had anything she could call her own, and while she was clearly enchanted by the things we found, she had a strong sense of unworthiness left over from her life as a slave, feeling guilty about what I was spending for her.

I talked her into some of it by convincing her it was really for Larus. “Just imagine the look on his face when he sees you in this,” I giggled, adding some lingerie to the pile in a clothing shop where I’d insisted on buying her at least one fancy dress. The gown didn’t quite fit perfectly, and we didn’t have time to have it altered, but Arathea assured me she could sew reasonably well and would be able to make the adjustments herself.

The store’s proprietor looked scandalised that I was buying such things for an elf, but she looked at me – and everyone always insisted no one would mistake me for a peasant, so she must have caught on that I was a noble – and then Avanna, clearly standing guard and looking irritable, and kept her opinions to herself. She did almost choke when Arathea called me by my first name; it had taken me all morning to get her to stop calling me ‘mistress’ but it was worth it to watch the shopkeeper’s eyes almost pop right out of her head.

I also bought some extra bags, so we could repack most of our things onto the horses, and the dreaded cart we’d had to drag along on our trip to Highever could follow behind at its own pace. When I mentioned this, Arathea squeaked – adorable! – and gasped, “I can’t ride a horse!”

I wasn’t shocked. “No worries. I couldn’t either until recently. Does Larus ride?” She nodded, and I smirked. “I have to say, you’re going to enjoy this trip, then.”

Highever was abuzz with the news from Kirkwall; it seemed nearly everyone had a relative or friend over there and the varying claims about what had happened to Knight-Commander Meredith were as fantastic as they were anatomically impossible. I briefly wondered if Zevran could find more sending stones so that we could insist Cailan and Fergus each carry one, but for now I knew it would have to wait until one or both of them returned.

Arathea and I also stopped briefly at the Alienage; she was greeted like a long-lost friend, and was soon dancing in a circle with a group of little girls, laughing and giggling as she played. I stood with the Hahren, watching her with a broad smile.

“You’re taking her away from us,” the Hahren chided.

I nodded. “Well, not me. Her...” I trailed off, uncertain what term to use that wouldn’t seem out of place in Ferelden.

“Lover?” he suggested with a smirk.

I laughed. “Sure, let’s go with that. Anyway, he’s needed at the Peak, and he’ll be safer there. And so will she; I don’t tolerate abuse among my people.”

The Hahren nodded. “So I’ve heard.” He turned to watch Arathea toss a small, shrieking child into the air with a laugh. “So what can I do for you? Not that I’d mind, but it would surprise me if you were here for a purely social visit.”

I chuckled. “Well, yes. Sorry. I’m actually here on behalf of the Wardens. As you may know, my husband is the Warden Commander of Ferelden.” He nodded. “We just wanted to extend an invitation to anyone from the Alienage who might want to become a Grey Warden. Obviously we’re looking for people who can fight, not just random people, but we don’t discriminate against elves. In fact, we were hoping to specifically recruit some, because we want the Wardens here to represent all Fereldans, not just the humans. We have very few elves.”

He hummed softly. “It’s a dangerous life, your Highness. I’m not certain I want to send any of my young people off to be killed by darkspawn.”

“I can understand that, and I respect it. But I imagine that, like everywhere, there are people here who are unhappy with their settled lives. They wish they could do something else. We are one of the few places where elves are treated as equals, and while fighting darkspawn is dangerous, at least they won’t face discrimination or assault by humans who refuse to see them as people. And, just as a reminder, we don’t pry into the past lives of our recruits, as long as they are willing to fully commit to the Wardens.” He raised an eyebrow at me, and I cleared my throat. “Just sayin’.”

We didn’t stay long in the Alienage, but it was easy to see Arathea was sad to be leaving. She was quiet all the way back to the castle.

The evening at the castle was quiet. We spoke to Aedan and Zevran – apparently the unlikely rumours about events in Kirkwall had reached them as well, but they had no more concrete information about what had really happened than we did. I asked Zevran about getting more sending stones, and he outright laughed at me, to my disappointment. Despite going to bed early, the morning came too soon. I groaned as we crawled out of bed and into armour, packing the last of our things and leaving a brief ‘thank you’ note for Fergus with his seneschal. Getting everything onto horses took way more work than it should have, and in the end, we borrowed several horses from Fergus’ stables: two for Larus and Arathea, and a few more to carry all of our bags. We’re going to have to send a caravan just to return Fergus’ horses. I was seriously considering looking for opportunities to invest in horse breeding.

Saying goodbye to Prince was one of the more difficult things I’d done. We had debated bringing him back to the Peak with us, but he was nearly despondent and I wasn’t honestly sure he would come. In addition, Highever had kennels where he could stay and be sociable with other mabari, rather than cooped up inside all day with me at the Peak. That said, when he realised we were leaving without him, the howling left me broken-hearted, and the kennel master had to come and drag him away.

“Maybe we should take him after all?” I fretted.

Alistair watched as Prince rounded the corner, out of sight. “I don’t think so. He was apparently relatively happy here until we returned – I checked. He’ll probably be fine once we’re gone. I hear there’s even some female mabari in the kennels that they’re planning to breed...”

He waggled his eyebrows at me, and I couldn’t help but laugh. I sure hope he’s right.

Once we were all mounted, I joked to Alistair that if we were set upon by bandits or the like, he and I would be safe; we both wore armour and looked like little more than bodyguards to Larus and Arathea, both of whom wore warm, well-made clothes. Apparently Larus had declined any sort of armour, and I wouldn’t have even known where to start with the elf. It worked out well, because with Larus and Arathea doubling up, it was less weight for the poor horse to cart around.

After Arathea was perched precariously in Larus’ lap, I caught her eye and raised one eyebrow knowingly; she blushed furiously, and then we both broke out into giggles. I’d like to have said the men were oblivious, but I caught Alistair smothering a smile when our gazes met, and Larus’ voice when he informed us they were ready to go sounded rather ... strained. I looked at my husband longingly, remembering our own trip across Ferelden sharing a horse. Ahh, nostalgia. With a nod, I gestured to Avanna to lead the way, and we set out for Soldier’s Peak.

The trip was quiet; for Arathea’s sake, I was glad Larus was a healer, because I remembered the stiffness of learning to ride a horse all too well. We’d opted not to bring the large, pavilion-style tent we’d somehow acquired, and just camped like we had during the Blight. Without our sound-proof canvas, however, I was far too embarrassed to consider tent sex; instead, Alistair stole me away from camp in the evening so we could have some alone time, and I tried not to think about the fact that at least one of our guards was probably within earshot.

The next several days were similar: riding all day; gratitude for the healer who kept our hips from turning us into stiff, sore, cranky people; sneaking away in the evenings; and sleeping in a tent, taking turns on watches. It reminded me of the Blight – and made me intensely homesick, not for any one place but for the people who’d made the experience ... livable. I missed Aedan’s laugh, and Zevran’s outrageous flirting, and Leli’s songs, and Wynne and Oghren’s drinking competitions. I missed Morrigan’s haughty attitude – and then seeing her watching us from just beyond the circle of firelight as a raven or wolf. I missed having girlfriends to giggle with about stupid things and friends who made even the darkest of nights seem bright.

Speaking to Aedan and Zevran on the sending stone helped a little; they would only say that they were in Antiva and ‘making progress’, whatever that meant. But just hearing them laughing and teasing eased some of the ache inside me. How I’d gone from the loner girl playing video games in a dark room to the girl with friends and family who craved socialization was still a bit startling, but I was incredibly grateful. They’d heard the same sort of garbled rumours about Kirkwall that we had, and were as concerned about the implications of Meredith’s death as I was. But as far away as they were – and otherwise occupied, to boot – they had little to add beyond hoping we would hear from Cailan soon.

The climb up through the mines to reach the peak was interesting; the mining crews had obviously been hard at work, and there were several new passages in the rock. The main passage had been enlarged and smoothed even further, and we were able to remain mounted the entire way. It got colder, of course, as we climbed, and we took breaks to pull on more clothes as we went. The wool and furs that Arathea had objected to now came in more than handy, and the elf thanked me again profusely.

Even Larus gasped at the first sight of the Keep, and my heart swelled a little with pride as I looked around. The tavern was finished, three stories of gleaming wood, and firelight emanated from the door when it swung open. The stables had been completed as well, and several people came to take the reins of all the horses and lead them inside. The smithy’s chimney puffed thick grey smoke and the sound of metal pounding could be heard even outside, while large braziers burned throughout the courtyard keeping the chill down. Levi had obviously had teams working on outside cleanup, because the usual piles of old, rotten wood and other debris were gone, and apparently someone had even scoured the stone steps in front of the keep so they gleamed brightly in the late afternoon light.

Alistair and I shared soft, grateful smiles. We approached the steps of the Keep just in time for Levi and Mhairi to throw the doors wide open and welcome us back.

We were home.

It took several days for us to settle back in. We had to tell the story of our trip several times to enthralled audiences of Wardens and friends, though the details about Lhanbyrde and why we were there were kept to just the few people who needed to know. Levi had stacks of paperwork for me that would have made a librarian cry, and I needed meetings with nearly everyone at some point. Levi had status reports for me on the renovations, staffing, and supplies for the Keep; Alistair and I sat in together on updates from Loghain about the Wardens’ activities while we were away. There’d been a few scattered darkspawn sightings throughout the bannorn, and he’d dispatched patrols to deal with them. Jowan had been working his way slowly through Avernus’ old library, with Lana’s help, and they both had updates for Alistair on what they’d found.