Griffin's Walk: Inconvenience

Imperial Highway, near West Hill

Warden Alistair MacTheirin -

The firelight flickered over Trinna's armor in the crowded attic bedroom as she put it on again with a shiver. I really would rather spend Satanalia tucked in at the Vigil, even with the loss in privacy with all the other Grey Wardens. But the first reports from Howe in Kirkwall raised more alarms that it settled. A cheery letter from Zevran full of nuance and rumor didn't help much either.

Trinna had been hard to read. It was times like this that the difference in our upbringing loomed over me despite the years since our Joining. She was still a Teyrn's heir, schooled in politics, duty, and leadership and I... I was still a bastard son raised in stable and Chantry. A king's bastard, but that hadn't made the straw any softer.

She had been raised to rule, even if her nascent combat training became life and death for all the surface during the Blight. This might not be her domain, this might not be darkspawn and approved by our superiors, but disapproval was as likely to make her stop as a Tevinter Magister becoming a ditch-digger.

I looked at her mabari as I buckled my chest-piece on, but it wasn't his fault. Mouser probably smelled the corpse when we entered the inn.

Not that I liked the idea of sharing our room with a corpse.

When she was done, I swooped down for a taste of her lips before duty. I wanted at least a nibble to tide me over. The entire attic shifted and creaked as a wind-gust hit, and she locked her arms around my neck.

The door on the other side of her back was pounded. “Wardens! I'm sorry to wake you, but...”

I couldn't see much of Trinna's expression, but I knew that look and leaned against her for another kiss.

A moment or two wasn't changing anything.

The door shook with the pounding and I was still annoyed my plans were interrupted. I kicked the door. “What do you want? We're busy.”

I could almost hear the gulp from the other side of the door, with him imagining things far more racy than what we were doing.

Trinna grinned. She thumped the door for good measure. “The inn burning?”

The stammered answer wasn't very clear, but Trinna whispered in my ear. “Maybe we can find out more before we claim official business.”

I wasn't sure we could unless we decided to conscript a killer.

Mouser was already on the bed and I told him to guard the room. Trinna must have confirmed the order as Mouser dropped off with a sigh and came over to take a guard position to the side of the door.

When the door swung open, the innkeeper looked worried. He bowed and said apologetically, “I'm sorry Wardens. This room has... problems with drafts and smokey fires later at night. We will make another room available for your use, free of charge, for the inconvenience.”

At that, Trinna affected a noblewoman's bored leer. “We're had no smoke problems and I don't think we will be sleeping much. He is a Grey Warden, you know.”

I flushed. “I'm sure... what is your name again? I'm sure Barr isn't really interested in all that.”

Barr was sweating. He hadn't earlier when he gave us the room. I wasn't sure if he looked into the room or toward the alcove.

Trinna hauled the innkeeper across the threshold. “We don't smell any extra smoke...”

She was stronger than she looked and between us, we dragged him past the now visible bathtub and the corpse.

His head turned to try to look behind him and he skidded as his resistance ended. “Oh, Maker!”

“Who is your liege?” Trinna demanded with a snap to her voice.

“Bann Franderel, of West Hill. I'm s.. s.. sorry, Ser.” He wasn't breathing well.

When I looked at Trinna, she nodded and said, “Then as agents representing Teyrn Fergus Cousland, we are taking charge of this inn, Barr.”

Barr greeted this by slumping into a faint.

As soon as he was lying on the floor I had speak. “That didn't help.”

“He's not guilty, even if someone he spoke to knows more. Do you want to wait until he wakes?”

I shook my head. Finishing this meant we could get to sleep.

“Keep him here, Mouser.” The mabari's bark carried across a battle, but waking the other people here wasn't a bad idea.

We moved downstairs, looking for the rooms allotted for staff and soon we had a small staff of a young cook, maids, and odd jobs who kept the stable when there were horses. All were younger than Trinna and I, and they had simple and worn clothing. All looked frightened.

The red-haired maid asked, “What happened to Barr, Sers?”

“He is under guard. What I want to know is how how many people are here and how many have never been here before this storm...?” Trinna was the Warden Commander, now. No humor or compassion were in her voice.

I heard a deep bark and then a loud howl and Trinna took off at a run.

Charging into the room, Mouser was fine but a pool of blood was spreading around Barr and a small knife was deep in his throat.

We couldn't save him with poultices in those seconds.

An innocent man died.

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A/N: Challenge words are nuance, nascent, and nibble. Thanks to my beta reader who has been kind enough to read this and point out stupid flubs. Any typos that remain are not intentional... Reviews or a PM to let me know what you think would be very appreciated.