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A Match to Tinder	By : Anesor Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 4095 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age 2, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. Aldera is my character, as are a few new ones.

Chapter List
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-- The Dale Lands - Qavirren clan camp
Aldera:
Shouldn't I feel safer from those who hunted us here among the Dalish? They had no love for the Chantry or Templars. Aside from mudstains, we looked presentable and I hoped not like maddened humans as we followed some Dalish to the edge of their camp. Merrill looked solemn. Anders was quiet.
Still, these Dalish seemed very different than the elves on Sundermount. Most there ignored or threatened us when we came out Kirkwall. I'd never seen more than a dozen or so, but now I saw that clans might be larger. Here, the elves we'd rescued were younger, and I'd seen many more adults in the camp, working busily. Maybe they were pretended to work, since I saw no youth aside from those we'd brought here.
They seemed more... something. More alive? More vibrant? I wasn't sure as both camps were quiet.
The sun shifted and we remained isolated. The elves were armed and looked a familiar kind of wary, pointedly and coldly ignoring even Merrill. I was worried.
Anders leaned close and said wryly, “Perhaps I should have mentioned earlier that Dalish Keepers are all crazy. They think I'd would look better with a muzzle.”
My stomach turned over, but I said, “Shush. Or is Justice getting restless?”
“No, he approves killing slavers. He's quiet...” Anders said while taking my left hand and nervously tracing along my leather seams. “There are no Chantry or Templars here to anger him.”
Clasping his hand with mine, I smiled at him and Anders' mouth finally twitched into a tiny smile. Paws rolled for a belly rub, and I obliged as I wanted us to look harmless.
No one bought the act and warmed up, not even when Mew jumped from Anders' shoulder onto Paws. My mabari rolled over and just met my eyes, looking betrayed. Ser Mew climbed to the top of Paws again and mewed in triumph.
Merrill chuckled, the first sound she'd made since we settled to wait.
“Merrill, are you okay?” I asked while scratching Paws' ears.
“I am fine, Hawke. The Keeper or the First may be too busy to speak with us for a time,” she said as if she was trying to convince herself.
“If we have to wait long, I'll pitch our tent and we'll... take a nap,” I said.
Merrill didn't look sure if I was joking, but Anders chuckled.
Feeling restless, I looked for escape routes and danger potential in our guards. Being near the edge of the camp, I thought if we simply walked away now, we would have little problem. But Merrill needed help.
The youth we rescued must be reporting while elders decided if we were worth talking to. Hunter and Ker didn't like us humans. I couldn't blame them for distrusting us, but I will not accept guilt for things I'd never done. That's the same as still blaming all mages for the Black City or Tevinter. I'd done enough that haunted my dreams.
I didn't want to remember how drained Anders was after that fight with those slavers, not even a spark left. Skin clammy, even his breathing seemed to be taking far too long each time. I was holding my breath, waiting for his to stop and started to panic. I didn't think he'd been hurt.
“He may not be injured, lethallan, merely exhausted,” Merrill suggested.
Placing my fingers against his too-pale cheek, I muttered, “He's never been this tired before. Could he just stop breathing?”
She pulled a flask out. “He has never cast as many spells in such armor either.”
That made my throat hurt, this armor was the only disguise he could live with. I failed yet again. I should have fought harder, so that he wouldn't need to drain himself.
Anders wouldn't drink from the vial, making a face that would have been funnier if I wasn't so afraid. Soon he didn't even do that, only tiny motions in his eyes and clenched frown said he wasn't completely unconscious. He wouldn't drink, void blast him.
“You do this, Hawke. He was better when you tried. Pinch his nose,” Merrill said with a small smile.
It had been a very long time since I had to do that for Carver. I don't know if he ever forgave me, but my brother had taken a good chomp at my fingers. Anders didn't quite get me, and soon he grew alert again.
Reaching this camp took considerably longer than our travel to the Dalish camp on Sundermount, but I doubted any Templar hunters would find us easily. I settled into a fake doze as we waited, watching through slitted eyes. Anders played with Mew.
Late afternoon two elves came over to us, one female and male. The older female ignored Anders and I when she angrily asked Merrill, “Why do you bow to them?”
Merrill flushed and objected, “Hawke is my friend...”
“Shemlen are not our friends. You have forgotten what you were, you who were once First. Forgotten what the shem have cost all of the People in their foolishness. You have forgotten what you swore before your clan. You were the Dalish. You were Keeper of the lost lore and walker of the lonely path. And worst of all, you submitted to the shemlen.”
I didn't know what to say, but I was getting angry. If I argued, that would confirm her tirade.
Wilting a little, Merrill respectfully said, “Keeper.”
“You follow a shem as if she was Keeper. You might as well wear their clothing and live in a prison with the other flat ears.”
I wanted to smack this Keeper so much I was shaking, but Anders pinched me and I took a deep breath. Merrill meant well. Then I let my arm slide down Anders' side a little, ready to spring if this turned uglier. After a moment, his tense arm slid down too, even if he still touched me.
Much of their next speech I could not understand, but Merrill accepted what sounded like criticism. The Eluvian was mentioned, as well as halla, the demon, and Marethari; Merrill was shamefaced as she spoke.
“You left your clan and turned your back on your people,” the old witch said, making sure we could understand. “To be a human's mercenary, instead of becoming Keeper after Marethari as the clans' wisdom decided,” she spat out.
Standing upright now, Merrill cried with a little fire, “One cannot lead if your people do not accept your wisdom. I was not First long before the halla died. They would not accept judgment well before the humans arrived with their charge from Asha'bellanar.”
“Then what was the reason, child?” the Keeper asked. “Why were you shunned?”
“Because I sought to understand and restore some of the old knowledge, ways Keeper Marethari did not approve,” Merrill insisted more firmly. “My actions did not put the clan at risk. Yet I have come in search of assistance for my clan, as they will not accept help from me.”
“And these shemlens, one named Brana or Hawke, or perhaps Champion?” the Keeper insisted with a glare at all of us. “Why did you not go to them?”
I tried not to wince. We weren't doing too good at staying secret, were we?
Anders pulled me closer with one arm. His eyes were nearly closed, but I didn't see any sign of his spirit, thank the Maker.
“They cannot provide what my clan needs. They could only help them learn to live in the cities, not remain of a free people,” Merrill added sadly. “Sabrae are lost and have no guide, whether halla or Keeper. I come to beg help for them before they are gone, and I do not believe they have much time.”
“Why do you need the quicklings' help? You need no help to travel the land, no help from them to rejoin your people. Why do they help 'dirty knife-ears?' Would they destroy our clan as other shem have tried? Like they did war upon their own city?”
I wasn't sure if I flinched at that or Anders had. Maybe it was both of us. I tried to will my flush away.
Merrill was getting calmer as the talk continued. “The Creators have willed that the challenges in restoring some of our past cannot be done by one in pride. They are my friends, Keeper.”
The Keeper was stern when she asked me, “That explains that Merrill might have found those not of the People for this. Why do you stay with her, or is she a convenient servant?”
Stumbling a little, I said, “She's never been a servant. I want to help her...” I swallowed and added in the face of the Keeper's cold stare, “I hope if Merrill has help she won't want to use blood magic as it scares me and I don't want her hurt.”
“Oh, no, Keeper, I was not a servant. I had a sweet, little home in the bone of the mountains, where I could study an Eluvian and work on fixing it,” Merrill said with a happy smile. “The others around me had a hahren already and such a lovely tree, so if I did not travel, I rarely needed to go out. I got horribly lost in all the open-air stone tunnels there for a time. Sometimes I wondered if the old quicklings decided to build their streets modeled upon a rabbit warren. Still, the rock does not grow very many green things, no soil. I watered Hawke's plants a few times. The poor things kept dying over and over as she was so bad at it. The poor, little, things would whither and sit there for weeks or months until they turned brown enough for them to be noticed. Then Orana or Bodahn learned how to do the watering.”
Seeing one of Merrill's wandering speeches bemuse the Keeper was the funniest thing I'd seen all day. So it wasn't just humans who got confused by her rambling.
“I will think on this,” the Keeper spoke almost regally before leaving.
We were escorted away and fed, though I wasn't hungry again. Merrill and our furrier friends were the only ones who ate much. These weren't the aravels I saw at Sundermount, but two tents.
The elves began to leave, with only the hunters guarding us still nearby. I was tired of being watched, and Anders was too still and quiet. the longer we waited like this. Merrill had one tent. Paws and Mew came with us, so it was a little crowded in ours.
Kneeling, I'd just finished piling our padding and armor in one corner of the low tent when Anders nuzzled my neck and sucked at my earring. I usually forgot it was there, but he didn't. I turned to face him, feeling a little cooler without my armor and padding. While I was used to my sets of armor over the years, he was so happy to be free of his. He didn't babble complaints at me anymore, but he was so eager and excited to move freely again that he pulled me with him onto the blankets whispering words that floated away before I really heard them.
Cupping his cheek in the dim light, I slid my fingers down his chest, tracing those scars that had been old when I first saw them.
Half-hum, half moan, and all loud, Anders pulled me tightly against him, quickly enough my hand was trapped as we kissed.
Wriggling my hand out, so to put my arms around him, I whispered, “Shhh.”
His voice had a grin when he whispered back, “Not a chance. We're the savages, remember?”
“Anders,” I objected even though I was ambivalent. “Not with guards outside, it's creepy to have the hunters listening in.”
I could feel myself tense when I said it, but Anders only grumbled or maybe pouted as we settled in our blankets, our limbs intertwined. He almost absently caressed me until I slept.
Until later when I woke from a new nightmare of Carver dying.
-- x --
I could feel Justice become more restless when Hawke remembered our audience, but I reminded him these weren't templars. I wasn't as put off, but she was tense. I envied Hawke that she'd been sheltered from that lack of privacy.
She fell asleep quickly, with Paws and Mew settling closer. Mew had been exploring the edges of the new tent and decided to settle to sleep by my neck purring briefly. Paws as was usual, settled with his head on her foot. I probably wouldn't mind the mabari as much when it got cold in winter.
It was almost unbelievably quiet, even at the edge of the Dalish camp. I didn't need much sleep, so I listened and made plans, moving my fingers slowly through Hawke's hair until I slept too.
Hawke woke me not long before dawn, with a shriek that was cut off as soon as she woke, and I could feel her trembling all over. I spoke soothing murmurs, wishing I could make her nightmares go away, but I knew no way.
I should have like nightmares, thrice over. I felt a slight guilt that I didn't have the warden nightmares anymore like all the other wardens. I had them until Justice and I made our agreement, now I just slept. I didn't mind losing the nightmares of darkspawn and the Architect. I deserved nightmares about Rolan's death, Elthina's, and the heart-rending look at my betrayal on Hawke's face. I once hoped Justice would help against demons trying to tempt me, but I lost the pleasant dreams in the Fade too. I couldn't even dream about Dera those years after the Deep Roads when I wanted to.
“Love?” I asked quietly, smelling the dampness of her tears. “What is it?”
“Nothing quite real, a dream about Carver dying near Sundermount, but he died outside Lothering,” she mourned. “I never got to see him as a man...”
“The Fade is only a stepping stone after we die, and the Golden City remains, even if darker. He's with the Maker now.” I stroked her hair, trying to will her some peace.
She hiccuped, and looked up to give me a fierce hug, saying, “I know. Sometimes it just seems like yesterday he was griping, just yesterday my mother was excited about a suitor, and like only last week that my father swore me to protect my family...”
Hawke didn't say any more, but she didn't need to as I knew her doubts too well, even if I couldn't agree.
“Kirkwall was a dark place, love. Too much blood magic was done there through the ages. You cannot stop the tide, no matter what you hope.” I found I could smile with real thankfulness, and added, “At least Justice is quieter, far quieter now that we left Kirkwall.”
“He hasn't left or something, has he?”
“No, but he's not as wrathful,” I explained. “Sometimes he's more like he was in Ferelden.” Feeling a lightning rumble, I added, “Most of the time, though.”
“Good,” Hawke said as she rolled onto and pinned me for some kisses that finished waking me and made me buoyant despite her holding me in place.
A little fragment of me was reborn, as Dera was hesitant since Kirkwall. I was almost sure she loved me as we traveled to Cumberland. She didn't hold herself apart as I'd feared, but it wasn't the same. I wasn't completely sure she still wanted me; she'd been so passive in her affections. She didn't reject me, but... I worried since Kirkwall it was only a remnant, a kindness, or a convenience of fugitives.
I'd done that so often when I was only a little younger than she was now, lust in desperation or physical need. I didn't want her pity, but I couldn't live without her. With my arms pinned under us, my lips were first to throb from her actions, but I couldn't stop feeling glee, almost bubbling my relief that she wanted me. The pleasure-pain ache was far better than the careful and polite near-mask of words she'd worn sometimes.
Catching my breath as she shifted and I lost contact with her lips, my moaning her name resulted only in her covering my mouth with a hand. Quiet... I could manage that, and instead of nodding I stretched up and gnawed on her hand. A snicker from her and soon it was just us: pets forgotten, spirit shoved aside, and suspicious hunters ignored.
Finally I put my arms around her, glad.
Soon I could hear the camp begin to stir, and then Merrill speaking formally and moving away. So I let Aldera sleep, tucking her in blankets when I let Mew out for a time. Paws, I let wander on his own, though he returned to our tent before Hawke woke. We waited with Hawke studying from the one book.
Mid-afternoon Merrill returned to the tents, looking unhappy for her.
Patting the ground beside her, Hawke said, “Plenty of ground for resting, Merrill. What was decided?”
“The Keeper will help, but it comes at a price, and I...” Merrill paled but remained standing. “She wishes to speak with the Champion and the Scourge too.”
Maker, I'd known I would gain epithets from Justice's and my actions, but I'd hoped it would be somehow less... somehow more positive for free mages.
After a quick touch along my back, Hawke rose, her armor matte enough now that little reflected even in sunshine. She reached down to take my hand as I stood. Passing through much of the camp there were four elves standing in front of one of aravels, along with one of the halla.
Merrill introduced us, saying, “This is the Keeper of the Qavirren clan, and their First.” She gestured first to the older one who'd spoken to us yesterday, and then to male elf who looked younger than Merrill. In another wave, Merrill identified the others, “This is Narelia, our storyteller, our herd leader Swiftspring, and our Halla Keeper.”
I'd heard a few stories about halla when I was with the Warden, but none mentioned the comprehension in those eyes that was not deerlike. My thought was that this wasn't some kind of possession, and was echoed by an internal rumble.
“Hello,” Hawke said cautiously. “Can we be of assistance?”
The Keeper spoke with a hard look at Merrill, “This is about the assistance Merrill, once of Alerion and Sabrae, wants of us. She calls for a great sacrifice of halla and guidance that will put our clan at risk for the remnants of Sabrae. What would a shem do for that?”
Gripping my hand, Hawke said, “We don't have wealth or power that would help you. And there are some things we will not do, like blood magic or demons, but we can help in other ways and would be glad to.”
A challenging glance was sent to Merrill for some reason, but the Keeper said to us, “Merrill asks for two things and so it costs three, as a reminder to see the tree in the forest of her plans.”
Flushing, Merrill said, “The first thing the Keeper wants is for us to find an ancient codex of history and magic that had been hidden before the humans sent by the later followers of Andraste overran and decimated these lands. It had been hidden in the mountains where several clans could share it in hidden safety, but here is the only clan that remembers.”
“How long has it been? Will it have survived?” I wondered.
The Keeper smiled weakly on me, and with a wave I didn't understand, explained, “The codex is sheets of enchanted metal. It may have been scattered or stolen or deliberately melted, but simple weather will not have harmed them.”
A moment of silence and Merrill explained as if by rote, “The ruins once were where some of our people studied magic, to rekindle it in our daily life, But they came out to fight when the shem came and never returned to live. Some still went there to speak with the Creators for generations in safety, but around the time of the blight, it became a place of death for too many, and it was banned by the Keeper. She wants me to retrieve the codex and give it to her. They are not sure if it was darker spirits or the darkspawn.”
“I'll know,” I admitted with a frown that I could feel as coming from Justice, too.
The Keeper only nodded. “Second, Merrill must recover some new lore or magic, and personally deliver that knowledge to three different clans. The third part is Keeper training, that clans pay heavily for the mistakes of Keepers.”
“When the first task is done, I will travel to Sundermount,” the First said clearly, “for at least as long as until the next Arlathvhen, and the clans can decide what else might be due.”
I looked at Hawke, but I didn't feel that worried at these tasks. She began asking about a map and directions. Merrill looked relieved.
Not more than a few hours later we left camp, traveling east with the addition of Harjen to our group as guide. The elven hunter was very quiet for the rest of the day. She avoided Merrill aside from the necessities of travel and camp. The round trip would take weeks, and somehow the hunter reminded me of the heavy silences when Hawke collected Fenris and Vael into some missions. I couldn't decide if Harjen hated humans, mages, or Merrill the most.
Hawke got annoyed after a couple of days of travel, and asked Harjen, “Is there a chance you might relax a little around us? It's going to be some very long weeks if you keep brooding like this. We will have to work together in combat, from what little we know about this ruin.”
“Not really, you flat ears will fight anything that is in your way as you usually do, leaving only a swath of destruction behind you. My duty is to return safely to the clan,” she said with contempt.
Aldera looked disappointed, but didn't say anything else. Merrill didn't even look surprised at the answer and remained unusually silent as we made our way along narrow trails and sometimes thorny underbrush over the next days.
I healed Hawke and myself, as the briers clung more to us, finding gaps in our armor. I was getting convinced this was deliberate by the hunter. Hawke was getting more grim the closer to the Shiverpeaks we got. Merrill was so very guarded around Hanjen, missing even her naivete. It frustrated me in Kirkwall, but now she was not herself without the odd comments. That the hunter acting as some kind of Templar or Qun watchdog towards her was becoming an inescapable conclusion, even if Hanjen treated Hawke and I in much the same poor way. I know I didn't care what Hanjen thought at this point, she didn't know us.
More than a week later Hawke woke me with a nightmare. Though they were lessening, I murmured in her ear until she calmed.
“Wish I didn't wake you like this,” Hawke whispered, as Merrill still slept, or ignored us.
“Shh, love, I want to help,” I said with a kiss to her temple. “What was it this time?”
Clinging for a moment, she told me, “We fought more slavers or maybe even templars. Just us in a swamp... but you died this time. There were too many and I wasn't fast enough.” She gulped and stuttered while shivering, “What ha-happens then? I can't burn your... ashes and grieve then, will I? Not if Justice has been in a corpse before, and he's used to your body. Not having a host is so bad for his stability, so he's gonna walk around... in your body.”
“I don't know if I could look at him without you there too...” Dera said with a wobble.
It may not have been just my pang but some of our memories of Aura flashed, of when Justice had grieved in his way. Even the loss of Aura affected him so much more than he understood.
“I don't know what will happen to either of us, neither does Justice. I hope that he returns to the Fade with my soul.” Putting my lips against her forehead for a kiss, I insisted, “Do what you think right, love. I'm sorry we keep making it harder.”
I could hear the false cheer when she said, “You just make sure you don't die, then.”
With the time until my Calling ever slipping away, we reassured each other with lies until we fell asleep again.
-- x --
Two weeks since we'd left the Dalish camp and we'd begun to climb, making use of old trails and riverbeds. Harjen led the way, though Hawke marked a map. One ridge had a view over the scrublands we'd just left, when the trail started ascending more steeply. The next site for our camp had ancient carvings in the rock that still showed sigils of some kind.
We stopped in the shelter of the hillside, but Hawke and Harjen disappeared while Merrill and I set camp. Paws was stretching and rubbing his fur against a windworn tree, loosening where the basket had been. Ser Mew was on my shoulder again and purring.
“Are you happy?” Merrill suddenly asked.
I placed a waterskin and supplies next to the pot ready for whatever was found for meat. “Yes, you asked me this before.”
“You must have lied when you answered before. What makes your answer different now?” she wondered bitterly. “I didn't see it, when I was trained to listen to the butterfly's flutter and the blustery gale. All of a clan needs to be seen clearly, not just when they shout.”
I smiled. “It was true both times, Merrill. I'm always happy when I am with Hawke, even if that is not the only feeling I have. I always felt that way in part, even if terrible things surrounded us.”
Smiling with some relief, Merrill said, “As long as you don't go back to being grumpy.”
“Aldera is the only philtre I need for that,” I said with a grin.
With that Harjen returned with some edible creature, already skinned and butchered to put into a stew, and then she ignored me.
It could be worse, far worse than rudeness, I thought as I started the pot.
Hawke was gone longer than a privy run, even if she'd dug one, so I went to the mabari and asked if he'd lead me to her.
Paws looked at me like I was an idiot and led me up the only path to a ledge. The view there was amazing, and I could see there was a storm coming quickly. The breeze was already picking up, but we had some time before the clouds would be overhead.
Hawke turned back to look at me and smiled as I got close. “I'd like to watch it arrive.”
Standing behind her, the red hair band that Aveline gave her didn't prevent her hair from blowing into my face as I put my arms around her. I didn't mind feeling it flow around me, and I breathed in the scent of her and the damp-before-the-rain scent as we watched the clouds roll over us.
“Any lightning and we're going lower, Hawke. Real lightning is far more deadly than what mages throw around,” I spoke into her ear after taking a deep breath of her.
She was warm and still, facing the breezy gusts that started whipping about us. I felt no electricity building as we stood there. Hawke faced the wind, her head tilted up before the rain began to fall into us sideways, the fighting figurehead of my ship. I didn't need to see the storm, I bent down a little, curling around her so my face was at her neck. I didn't really want to get soaked but this was worth it.
When the cloudburst passed, the breeze began to drop off and I said, “We should get back, Hawke.”
“Thanks,” she said while running fingers through my soaked hair. “You don't have to stay out and get soaked.”
Turning her for a kiss, I admitted, “The best part is that we didn't get interrupted.”
Once back at our campsite we collected our cold bowls of stew, and spread out our wet clothing inside our tent. Merrill looked adorable in her smalls, as did Hawke of course.
Hawke, sitting close in front of me and studying, looked up and said, “If we are expecting a fight, we should wear our best armor. I don't think we'll find any Templars and we need the enhancements with a smaller group.”
“Harjen is with us,” Merrill objected.
“We don't know how skillful she is, nor do I think she really cares all that much if we survive, Merrill. I cannot see her risking her hide for Anders or I,” Hawke said with her jaw set.
With a sad sigh, Merrill agreed, “True, her duty is to guide us to the ruins and report on our success. I am not sure she will accompany us inside.”
We'd arrive in another day or two, but I had yet to hear of any elven ruins that didn't have spiders or skeletons. I would enjoy wearing my feathers again. No, 'enjoy' was too faint a word, as I ran my fingers through my pauldrons from our pack.
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A Match to Tinder