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Blood Bond	By : Hikari86 Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 4278 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
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Chapter List
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Denerim

The trip from the Brecilian Forest to Denerim had been enjoyable. It gave the chance for Arawin to get to know her friends better, particularly Morrigan and Sten. She felt that she might have ignored them a little when they were with the Dalish, due to her excitement. They didn’t seem to have noticed however, or minded.
Sten didn’t talk very much, as it was hard to get more than one word answers out of him. Eventually Arawin learned that he was from the tropical area of Par Vollen, north of Rivain. He had come to Ferelden with several other Qunari to answer a question of his Arishok, who Arawin assumed was his leader, to learn ‘what is the Blight?’ What happened to the others and how he ended up in the cage in Lothering, he still refused to talk about. She also learned that Sten wasn’t necessarily a name, but a title. When she tried to ask what his real name was, he said that Sten would be sufficient. Arawin didn’t quite understand it, but she figured that’s just how it was with the Qunari. Titles were their names as well as their ranks.
Morrigan was easier to talk to, though Arawin already knew much about her. She learned of some of the witches exploits when she was a child. About how, as a little girl the very first time she left the Wilds was when she stole a hand mirror from a noblewoman.
“‘Twas encrusted in gold and crystalline gemstones and I hugged it to my chest with delight as I sped back to the Wilds,” Morrigan said gleefully as she recalled the memory.
“That sounds familiar,” Arawin laughed. “I was a pesky thief myself when I was a child. My parents were so mad when they found out what I was doing. I’m sure Flemeth wasn’t happy about it either.”
“No, she wasn’t. Flemeth was furious with me. I was a child and had not yet come into my full power, and I had risked discovery for the sake of a pretty bauble. To teach me a lesson, Flemeth took the mirror and smashed it upon the ground. I was heartbroken.”
“That seems a bit cruel. You were just a child. You didn’t know any better.”
Morrigan shook her head. “A child, yes, but a foolish one. Flemeth was right to break me of my fascination. Beauty and love are fleeting and have no meaning. Survival has meaning. Power has meaning. Without those lessons I would not be here today, as difficult as they might have been.”
Arawin knew what she meant. Living in the alienage might not have been the same as living in the Wilds, but Arawin did know the lessons Morrigan was talking about. Survival was everything in the alienage. One needed to learn to be mean and hard, to grow up quick, or else face certainties that could only lead to death.
Zevran had known these lessons as well, as Arawin knew about his childhood. He had grown up in a whorehouse, and when he was seven years old, sold to the Crows for three sovereigns. From there, they took him and trained him to be a deadly assassin. Zevran liked to brag about his exploits, of the targets he killed, as well as the people he shared beds with. This included both men and women, from mages to peasants and even princesses. Arawin didn’t seem to mind really that Zevran was promiscuous. After all, it was in the past and unlikely to affect her in any way. Plus she didn’t see their own relationship as anything but sexual. He was a good friend to have, and Arawin liked it the way it was, even though occasionally she would catch herself staring at him with more interest than necessary. She would study his features; the handsome chisel of his check bones, the thickness of his accent, the honey of his eyes, and the delicate tattoos lining his well-built muscles. Arawin had to sometimes mentally hit herself to stay focused.
“You know, now that I think about it,” he said. “I believe I’ve been with every single race here in Thedas except for a Qunari woman. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever set eyes on one. Do they even exist, Sten?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” the Qunari said from behind. “Obviously there are women or else we wouldn’t be here.”
“True, but why have I not seen one?”
“Because they do not leave. Women are not amongst the guard. They are merchants or priests, not warriors.”
“That’s why he doesn’t think me or Morrigan are women,” Arawin explained. “I’m not exactly sure what we are in his eyes, but it’s not female.”
“Hmm, well then I guess I know where I need to travel next then, don’t I?” Zevran smiled. “Par Vollen here I come! Watch out ladies, Zevran’s in town.” His smile broadened as he rubbed his hands together.
“They will not respond to you,” said Sten, making Zevran turn back to him.
“Oh, and why not? Are they just as emotional as you are?”
“Yes, but that is not the reason why.”
“Then what is?”
“Your sword,” Sten said looking down at the elf. “It’s too short.”
“My sword?” Zevran looked puzzled. “It’s too short? How do you know?”
“Because I’ve seen it.”
“You have?”
“I see it every time you take it out to use it. I am not impressed.”
“Well, it might not be as big as yours, my friend, but I think it’s rather... handy.”
Arawin had to clap her hands to her face to suppress a giggle.
“It doesn’t matter how ‘handy’ your sword is,” said Sten not noticing Arawin’s reaction. “It will not impress a Qunari female. It is too short and you handle it poorly.”
“Then what would impress them?” Zevran asked.
“Females look for males with swords that are long, broad, hard, and covered in blood.”
“Covered in blood?”
“Yes. It proves their stamina and shows they are great warriors. A Qunari’s sword is everything to him. It is his soul and his greatest possession.”
Seeing Zevran’s face, Arawin couldn’t contain it anymore and burst out laughing.
“What are you laughing at?” he asked her. “You seem to enjoy my sword.”
Arawin had to hold her sides before she could answer him. “He’s not talking about that sword.”
“Oh...? Oh!” Zevran began laughing with her as he figured it out.
“What are you two laughing about?” Sten asked.
“Nothing,” said Zevran. “I now know what you mean.”
“What did you think I meant?”
“Don’t worry about it. Just know you are right. My sword is too short.”
Arawin broke out laughing again, swaying and bumping into Zevran’s shoulder. He bumped her back and they went like this for a time.
When things had settled down, Morrigan, who was in the lead, stopped them and pointed to the distance. Arawin looked up and was thrilled to see Denerim on the horizon. They went closer, stopping a top a hill, looking down into the city. Arawin saw Fort Drakon, shooting up from behind a cliff face that served as the back of the city. Next to it was the port, where ships sailed in and docked. She could also see the Vhenadahl in the middle, towering over all the buildings. Suddenly, Arawin had an urge to climb the tree once more and sit on her branch and look out at the sea. She wanted to do this with Shianni, and she also wanted to take Zevran up with her to show him the beautiful view.
Arawin was eager to get there, eager to do what had to be done, then eager to find her family. Her heart ached for it. She took a few steps forward to start their decent to the city gates, but no one followed her. She turned around to see them still standing where they were.
“What are you guys doing? Come on, we’re here, let’s go in.”
It was early morning, with the sun just pasted the horizon. That gave Arawin plenty of time to find Brother Genetivi then spend the rest of the day with her family. Maybe even the rest of tomorrow as well, if it could be done. But them not moving wasn’t making it happen.
“We need to talk,” said Morrigan.
“About what?” Arawin said as she made her way back to them. “We already know what we’re doing, so what is there to talk about?”
“You.”
“Me?”
“Yes. Have you forgotten that you’re a Grey Warden and still a wanted criminal? Denerim is the capital and this is also where Loghain is. I’m sure because of that the city will be overrun with soldiers and posters of you.”
“Plus, this is where the Crows are stationed,” Zevran added.
“So you entering would be fool-hardy,” Morrigan continued. “Which is why we believe it would be a better idea if only Zevran and I went in.”
Arawin’s mouth hung open at Morrigan’s words. She couldn’t believe they were suggesting this. Closing her mouth, her stare turned hard. “You have got to be joking, right?”
“No we are not,” said Morrigan who was the only one who seemed to not be afraid of her.
“Denerim is my home, I know it better than any of you.”
“I know it pretty well myself,” said Zevran.
“Not as well as I do. I know exactly where Brother Genitivi’s house is.” Arawin clenched her teeth seeing that neither of them looked to budge from their decision. “And what about you?” she directed at Zevran. “If the Crows are stationed there, then wouldn’t you be at risk of being found out?”
“Yes, but I happen to know how to hide myself from them. I have a better chance of going in and not being discovered than you do.”
“No! I don’t care what any of you say, I’m going in the city!”
“It is not wise,” said Morrigan.
“And it is not wise to anger me! I’m the leader, I’m in charge, and I say we’re all going in no matter what! If I get found out, then so be it. I can take care of myself.” Arawin turned on her heel and began walking down the hill to the gates. She heard the others following her, telling her that she had won, but when hands grabbed her from behind, she spun, ready to strike. She was down on the ground before she knew it, pinned by a heavy body. “Get off me! Let me go!” she screamed.
“Would you listen to us for a second,” Zevran said as he sat on her hips. His fingers clasped around her wrists, keeping them above her head. “I know you want to see your family, but if you are found, the entire city will rain down on us.”
Arawin glared at him. She tried to kick but found that his legs were pinning hers together. She had been in this position before, and it brought back memories that made her warm in her belly. She stopped struggling, but she was still determined to free herself somehow. “If you leave me out here, then I’ll just sneak in. You think I don’t know how?”
Zevran sighed then let go of her hands. He looked up at Morrigan and shook his head.
Morrigan rolled her eyes. “Fine,” she breathed.
Zevran stood and helped Arawin up. “It’s not a good idea,” he said. “But if you’re going to act like this... could you at least wear this?” He had reached into his pack and pulled out a cloak. It was black and light and made of cotton. Arawin took and examined it.
“Fine,” she said. “But I don’t know what it’s going to do.” She put it on, finding it big on her. It reached down to the back of her calves and completely covered her front without her having to hold it. The hood was also big, blocking her vision when fully pulled over.
“I actually quite like that on you,” said Zevran. “A little big, but that means anything could be under it... or nothing.”
Arawin pulled back the hood and smiled at him. “I hate it, but if you like it then I guess it’ll have to do. How long have you had this anyway? I’ve never seen you wear it.”
“I use it a lot when I don’t want to be seen. Works rather well.”
Arawin nodded as she rearranged her weapons. She kept Dar’Misaan and Far Song on her back, but moved Fang to her left hip, under the cloak. “Now, let’s get to the gate before you guys change your minds.”
The five of them made their way down to the gate just as a large merchant caravan was arriving. They noticed many people traveling with the caravan, most of them not merchants. They had seen such traveling groups on their way up north. Barely anyone was traveling alone with the threat of darkspawn.
Arawin and her friends melded into the caravan just as they reached the gate. Entering the city was slow, as the guards up front were checking everyone that went by. Arawin knew they were looking for her, Zelda, and Alistair. Morrigan had been able to gather news from some travelers they passed by a few days back saying that there were soldiers from Loghain’s own guard traveling around Ferelden, looking for the Grey Wardens as well as trying to bring the civil war to an end. It wasn’t a pretty sight in Ferelden right now. Not only were the darkspawn making their way further north, attacking and destroying Lothering with no survivors along with other villages and towns, the civil war was making just as much damage. No one was willing to help anyone, which left many people to wander the roads, hoping to find some type of safety. Denerim appeared to be the only safe haven left in Ferelden but that might soon change.
As they got closer to the gate, Arawin could feel the tension of her friends behind her. She hated that they were acting like this. It would be bad if she was caught, though Arawin felt that she had changed. She could barely recognize herself, so she knew she could do this. Removing the hood again, Arawin came up to one of the guards and fully looked him in the eye. He studied her for a moment, staring and examining. After only mere moments, but what felt like forever, he finally waved her by and she was able to pass through the gate and into the city.
Her smile broadened as she looked around the place she once called home. It felt good to finally see it again. She then made her way over to a posterboard located right next to the gate. It was filled with notices, sketches and warrants. The sketches of the three Grey Wardens were focused in the center, the largest and most focal area. Arawin studied her own sketch, and just as she expected, saw that she looked nothing like her picture. The girl in the drawing looking very different to the one Arawin had seen in the mirror back at the Dalish camp. Not just the tattoo missing from her eye, but she also looked younger and immature. Her face was more rounder, chubbier. Arawin’s face had lost it’s girlish look and was shaped more womanly, which included her body as well. But Arawin did have to wonder why the guard didn’t inspect her more. Despite her face changing, certain features that should have brought up red flags were still the same. Her red hair, which she liked to keep short, was still bright and full. Of course a redheaded elf wasn’t uncommon in Ferelden. Red hair wasn’t uncommon at all, even amongst humans. But her eyes should have done something. Green eyes weren’t uncommon either, but seeing them together, a green eyed, redheaded elf should have made the guard pull her to the side for questioning at least. It wasn’t until she looked down at the descriptions below her picture that she saw why she was able to get past him.
“Well what do you know,” she said to Zevran, feeling him come next to her. “They think my eyes are blue! Do these things look blue to you?”
“No,” he answered. “Not after I saw them up-close. But that is the description I got when I was hired to come after you. I think who ever gave the descriptions must've been color blind.”
“Hmm, I wonder who, though. They got Zelda and Alistair’s right. Why me? Oh well, worked to my advantage.”
“Yes, let’s thank the Maker for small wonders,” said Morrigan sarcastically. “Can you please get away from there before the guards realize their mistake? Especially with you blaring it out for the whole city to hear.”
“Oh.” Arawin looked over at the guards who were in hearing distance, but they were occupied with the newcomers into the city to have noticed. “Sorry. Let’s go ahead and get to Brother Genitivi’s house and get this over with.” She walked away from the posterboard, everyone behind her as she lead them into the marketplace.
***
It wasn’t hard for Arawin to find the house. She had Denerim memorized from every main street to back alley. Brother Genitivi’s house was located right across from the Gnawed Noble Tavern, right where she knew it would be. Proud of herself, she went up to the door and knocked. No one answered.
“Maybe he’s not home,” said Zevran.
Arawin ignored him, knowing that something like this was probably going to happen. Zelda had said the brother was missing after all. She knocked again, just for good measure. When there was still no answer, she reached into her pack to pull out her lock picks when suddenly the door opened a tiny crack. She looked up to see an eye staring at her with half a face covered in shadow.
“Yes?” the man behind the door said. “Was there something you needed?”
“Are you Brother Genitivi?”
“No, my name is Weylon. I’m Brother Genitivi’s assistant.”
“Okay. So... is he here? Can we speak to him?”
The man sighed. “He is not here, but come on in and I’ll try and tell you what you want to know.” He opened the door and stepped aside to allow everyone to pass. Once they were in, he closed it and gestured for them to go into the dining area just to the side of the entrance. Arawin looked around the room and saw many empty shelves. The table in the dining area was shaped like a rectangle and stretched across the room. There were only two chairs at the table. One was on the near side, close to her while the other was all the way on the other. It looked to have been moved with an open book laying on the table in front of it.
“So what is it you would like to know about the Urn?” Weylon asked.
“I assume we aren’t the first people to come and ask about it?” Arawin said turning to him. He was very young looking with short brown hair and dark eyes. He seemed calm, if a little agitated about their presence and didn’t even seem to care what type of people he just let into his home.
“Mostly, but I’m afraid I can’t tell you much. Brother Genitivi isn’t here, and I haven’t seen him for months. He told me where he was going, but I’ve gotten no word from him, and I’m afraid he may be in danger.”
“Why would he be in danger?”
“It’s the Urn. I think it was lost to us for a reason. I pray for Genitivi’s safety, but hope dwindles with each passing day. I-I tried to send help, but some knights came from Redcliffe looking for him not long ago. I sent them after Genitivi and they too have disappeared.”
Arawin stared at him suspiciously, wondering about that tiny little stutter in his speech. She had felt that there was something wrong even before walking into the house. The way Weylon was acting only confirmed it. She chanced a glance behind at her companions. She could see that both Morrigan and Zevran were suspicious as well, but they kept it concealed. Sten, however, she was still unable to read, as he stood in the back like a statute with a blank expression. Knowing him, she figured he felt something too, but like the others didn’t show it. Arawin turned back to Weylon, not wanting him to suspect anything. All she needed to do was just get some information then they could leave. She hoped Weylon would cooperate.
“Knights from Redcliffe, huh? Where did you send them?”
“No, don’t ask me where they went,” said Weylon. “You’ll go after them, and what if ill-luck should befall you, too? This search is a curse, on all of us. Some things are not meant to be found. I know that now.”
“But I thought you were worried about Genitivi? Don’t you want someone to find him at least?”
Weylon hung his head and sighed. “I fear that he is dead. There would be no point in trying to find him. The Maker has already accepted his soul. I believe this fully.”
“Look,” Arawin scuffed. “Whether he’s dead or not, I still need to know where you sent the knights and where Genitivi went before he left.”
“You shouldn’t go after the Urn. It’s not what the Maker wants.”
“Ugh, just tell me before I lose my patience!”
“Alright, alright!” Weylon said with his hands raised. He could see how angry she was. “All he said before he left was that he would be staying at an inn near Lake Calenhad, investigating something in that area.”
Arawin shifted her jaw as she took in what he said. If Brother Genitivi was near Lake Calenhad, then all she would have to do is send Zelda over there to find out more. That would leave her more time here with her family. She smiled as she thought about it but then lost her smile when she realized something. If Genitivi was anywhere near Lake Calenhad, then Zelda would have more than likely found out about it. Not much goes on around the lake that doesn’t get to Redcliffe. Plus what would he be doing there that had to do with the Urn?
“Why is he at Lake Calenhad, and what inn is he staying at?”
“I’m not exactly sure. All I know is when I was going through his notes, he stated he would be going there and staying at an inn called ‘The Spoiled Princess’.”
Alarms went off in Arawin’s head. “Didn’t you say he told you where he was going?”
Weylon faltered a bit, realizing he had said something wrong. “Y-yes, of course he told me, but I also went through his things to see if I could find other clues to his whereabouts.”
Arawin was getting frustrated. She could tell he was skirting around the issue, playing with her and trying to bring her off track. She glared at him, wanting to force him to tell the truth, but she wasn’t sure if that would even work.
Kunjo then barked, causing her to look away from Weylon. She saw her dog all the way on the other end of the room scratching at a door. He whimpered and barked, looking over at her before going back to scratching. Arawin made her way over to the door and noticed that it was locked.
“Could you please get him to stop doing that,” said Weylon who was close behind her.
“I can try,” said Arawin. “But I think there’s something in this room he’s interested in. Is this the larder?”
“N-no. It’s nothing.”
“My dog doesn’t whimper and whine for nothing.” Arawin fully faced him while Kunjo kept up his need to get in the room. “What’s in that room?”
“It’s full of Genitivi’s research papers.” Weylon tried to get by Arawin in order to stop Kunjo himself, but Arawin wouldn’t let him.
“If it’s full of his research then you wouldn’t mind us going in and having a look.”
“No, I would.” She could see the frustration in him and the panic. “They are in complete disarray. I haven’t had much time to rearrange them yet.”
“If you’re afraid we’re going to mess them up, I can assure you that won’t happen. We’ll put everything back right where we found it.”
Weylon shook his head. “I’m afraid not. Brother Genitivi was a very private person. I know he wouldn’t want complete strangers going through his things.”
“He won’t even know.” Arawin turned her back to him and reached for the door knob.
“No! Don’t touch that--”
Before her hand could even reach the knob, she heard a commotion behind her that made her smile. She had probably done the most stupidest thing possible by turning her back to him, but she knew her companions wouldn’t let her down.
When she turned around to see what had happened she found Kunjo by her side, growling with his hackles high. Sten stood right in front of her, sword drawn and pointing at the ceiling. Morrigan was off to the side, her hands held up with dots of magic flowing around them. Then close to the table, Arawin found Weylon, one hand being held behind his back by Zevran, who also had his Crow dagger at the man’s throat. Weylon’s other hand was out in front of him, but it was surrounded by the same magic dots as Morrigan’s. Apparently what Arawin had done was even more stupid than she thought, as she didn’t suspect Weylon to be a mage.
“That was very stupid of you to do,” Zevran whispered in his ear. “Attacking when her back is turned like that.”
“Yes,” said Arawin as she made her way next to Sten. “Did you really think you would get away with something like that?”
“You will never find Her!” Weylon spat out. “I was Her chosen! I was picked by Her personally, out of countless others to go and lead pilgrims astray from their paths.”
“What are you talking about? Who are you talking about?”
“Andraste! The risen Andraste! She has come back in a more glorious and powerful form than any could possibly imagine! And She does not wish to be found.”
“What?” Arawin laughed. “Andraste hasn’t risen. She’s dead! The ashes...”
“The ashes are nothing but dust that should be scattered in the winds.” Weylon tried to escape, but stopped and cried out when Zevran twisted his hand and pressed the dagger closer to his throat causing it to bleed.
“I would cooperate, if I were you,” Zevran said. “Don’t forget that I can make your death quick and painless or slow and agonizing. So just tell our lovely Warden what she wants, and you can die quick.”
Arawin felt a tingle as she watched Zevran become the assassin. A warmth was growing in her belly as she thought about what it would be like if he did that to her. “I would listen to him,” she said, shaking away the feeling the best she could. “He does have your life in his hands, after all.”
Weylon growled but didn’t try and escape again. “I will tell you nothing, because I know She will avenge my death. When you find Her, when you come in Her presence, She will smell my blood on you and rip you to pieces for your injustice. You will be swallowed piece by piece past Her teeth and plunged into eternal darkness. Never will you be able to rejoin at the Maker’s side. She will not allow an unbeliever!”
“Ugh, just tell me where Brother Genitivi went and what you did with him! You have no choice.”
“Oh, but I do have a choice, and I choose death!” Weylon let out a feral scream and with his free, magic-encased hand, grabbed Zevran’s dagger and pressed it to his throat. The dagger went cleanly through, cutting deep into the skin and spurting blood everywhere. Zevran was surprised by the action. He jumped back as his dagger clattered to the floor, covered in shiny red blood. Weylon fell to his knees, convulsing, eyes rolling in the back of his head. He fell to his back, gurgles and groans coming from his throat as blood flowed and bubbled from the large gash and the corners of his mouth. He soon ceased his electrical dance and laid still on the floor. His clothes soaked and a pool of blood surrounding his head and chest.
“Wha... What was that?” Arawin shirked.
“I’m not sure,” said Zevran, just as stunned as she was. “That was a first for me.”
“Does it matter?” said Morrigan as she lowered her hands. “He obviously was a lunatic. I’m sure what ever he told us about Lake Calenhad was just a ruse.”
“Or an ambush,” commented Zevran. “I wouldn’t have been surprised if we actually did go and found ourselves being attacked.”
Arawin looked down at Weylon’s lifeless body. “Whatever the reason we’re not going there unless there’s something in that room that says otherwise.” She turned to the door, lock picks in hand ready to open, but saw Sten standing in front of it. “Sten, it’s locked. Let me open it.”
“I’m just as curious to see what is inside as you are, Warden,” he said. “To kill oneself over a secret seems odd. I think I should go in first to make sure it’s safe.”
“When did you start caring about my safety?”
“Just stand back.” Sten grabbed the doorknob, then leaning back, pressed his shoulder into the door. A loud crack sounded, and Arawin watched Sten go through the wood, splitting the door in two and taking it off it’s hinges. Immediately the air filled with the foul stench of decay, nearly making everyone hurl.
“Sod! What is that!” Arawin said pinching her nose.
“A corpse,” Sten said as he stood in the foreboding room.
Morrigan made her way past Arawin who could barely move and went into the room. She disappeared for a moment before coming back to the doorframe and gesturing for Arawin to follow.
“Are you nuts?”
“Just come in here before I make you.”
Arawin took the cloak and placed it over her mouth and nose. “Are you coming?” she said turning to Zevran.
“I’ve had my share of corpses.”
She rolled her eyes at him, but didn’t force him to come with her.
When she entered the room, she found the smell to be worse, but it wasn’t the thing that caught her attention. The room was basically empty besides a few shelves and a bed. The shelves were all empty and on the bed laid the corpse that was creating the smell. Morrigan was knelt next to it, lifting up the covers to peak at the face.
“Well?” Arawin asked through the cloak.
“I’d say he’s been dead for at least three months; male, in about his twenties or so, died from magic. This would be the real Weylon.”
“How do you know?”
“I assume Brother Genitivi is much older, yes? So it is safe to assume this is not him. This could not be Weylon, true, but I do know that the man we encountered was not who he said he was either. In fact, the way he appeared was not his true appearance.”
Arawin shook her head, trying to take in what Morrigan was saying. “Could you please pretend I’m an idiot and explain it to me like that?”
“I don’t need to pretend to do that.” Arawin glared at her but said nothing. “The man out there was much older, perhaps in his fifties, a mage, and a rather bad one at that. He was also a morpher, which was why he looked different.”
“A morpher? Is that the same as what you are?”
“No, shapeshifters and morphers are two different things. It takes a very great deal of magic and willpower in order to shapeshift as it involves the entire body and you change yourself from one species to another. Morphing only requires you to change one part of your body. The false Weylon changed his facial features to look like the real Weylon in order to dispatch those who came looking for Genitivi. Why, however, is something I don’t know.”
“Hmm, it doesn’t make sense, but I guess that’s all we have to go on right now.” Arawin continued to look around the room, trying to see if there was anything that could help. The shelves were completely bare, and there was nothing else in the room. Kunjo scrapped by her, sniffing the ground and occasionally sneezing. He came up to the bed, but instead of sniffing the corpse, he stuck his head under and barked. Arawin moved over and knelt beside the bed, careful to keep her cloak around her head. She found underneath that there was a chest. When she pulled it out, she took out her lock picks and used them to open it. Inside, she only found a small leather journal that was worn and bent. Picking it up, she then hurried out of the room with the others following her.
Arawin removed the cloak from her head and opened the journal. The pages were yellowed and stained with some of the ink bleeding through. She turned it to the last few pages, finding along with it a folded up map.
“9:25 Dragon ...After much coercion I was finally able to get from him a name. Haven. He tells me nothing more, seeming afraid to reveal anymore than that...
9:27 Dragon ...I have searched the entire eastern half of Ferelden and have found nothing of the village. No one I talked to has heard of it, and the more I look, the more I believe I will not find it in the east or the north...
9:30 Dragon ...I have finally found someone willing to talk, although he seems skittish and unwilling. I had to offer him much gold and anonymity just to get him to speak. It has cost me much, but I believe worth it. He speaks of Haven’s location in the southern region of the Frostback Mountains. I admit, someplace I had never thought of before. When asked to locate on my map, he looks then circles a region with an arrow pointing before sitting back down and stares at his hands that he rings together. I ask him what is wrong, but he doesn’t reply. He only stands and leaves. I’m not sure what he is afraid of, but I am excited and will tell Weylon what I have found and soon get to packing for a long, mountainous trip...”
“Haven? Have any of you heard of such a place?” They all shook their heads but Arawin didn’t see as she unfolded the map and placed it on the table. It was a map of Ferelden. Written all over it were X’s and scribbles cluttering up and blocking out some of the names of places. Only one area was circled with an arrow pointing to the spot, and Haven written in black script above it. The area was located in the southern region of the Frostback Mountains, southwest of Redcliffe.
“I believe this is it,” Arawin said tapping the area on the map. “Which means this is where we’re heading.”
“To the Frostback Mountains? Uh.” Zevran looked sick from it. “And I thought I was getting used to the cold.”
“What?” Arawin laughed. “You can’t take our winters?”
“I did grow up in Antiva, you know. Where the weather was warm most of the time and much more humid. So yes, you’re winters are hard to get used to.”
“Then we know what we need to get,” said Arawin as she looked back down at the map. “You three go into the market and gather supplies for a trip to the mountains. I’ll stay in here and contact Zelda. Once I’m done, I’ll come and join you, then it’ll be off to the alienage.”
***
It didn’t take Arawin as long as she thought it would. She and Zelda were getting better at using the pendants. Showing Zelda the location of Haven, however, was a bit tricky, but eventually Zelda was able to understand the region. Once they parted, Arawin opened her eyes to find Kunjo with his head in her lap. He had stayed with her while the others had gone off to the market. When she stood, she rolled up the map and headed out the door to find the others, glad to be out of that house. She hated the thought of leaving Weylon’s body, but they couldn’t go and tell a guard about it. The guards would want to question them, keeping them obtained and from their goal, and from Arawin visiting her family.
When she passed the false Weylon, she looked down to see that his features had changed. Morrigan had been right. He was an older man with a sunken in face and a stringy gray beard. He looked sickly and rotten, besides being dead. Morrigan had told her that morphers who stay changed for a long period of time tend to start breaking down do to their bodies fighting to shift back to their normal form. He had apparently been in Weylon’s shape for months and it showed on his face.
Once Arawin was out and in the open air, she shut and locked the door, careful to make sure no one saw her. As soon as they dealt with what they needed to, Arawin vowed she would make sure Weylon got a proper funeral. She was already going to avenge him by going and finding Brother Genitivi. She didn’t know who the false Weylon was, or what he was talking about, but she knew that he was crazy and that whatever had happened to the brother, there was going to be more.
Arawin pulled the cloak tighter around her shoulders as a gust of wind swept past her. It was beginning to get colder now. Together she and Kunjo made their way into the market district where she easily spotted Sten bargaining with one of the merchants. Morrigan was in the bazaar next to him, looking and picking out fabrics. She then scanned the market looking for Zevran, and as she did she noticed something that disturbed her. The market wasn’t as nearly busy as it was when she left. Merchants still shouted out their goods, but there were less buyers walking about. She knew there had to be refugees here, but apparently no one had any money to buy what they needed. She also noticed there were no elves, or at least no free ones. The only ones she saw were servant elves, tagging along behind their noble bosses, heads hanging low and eyes fixed on nothing but the ground. This wasn’t like the Denerim market at all. Normally there would be elves running around. Servants, yes, and workers for the bazaars as well as elves from the alienage buying food and clothing. None of those could be found, and it was starting to worry her as she had hoped to spot her cousins or father in the market, but it was looking less and less likely.
Soon she spotted Zevran leaning against a post. His head was turned and Arawin followed his gaze to a particular bazaar that sold foreign goods. The woman running the bazaar was quite beautiful with blonde hair and a green and red dress that looked to be from Orlais. Arawin smiled as she went over to him.
“If you want to go and be with her, then you can.”
Zevran turned to her with surprise. “What are you talking about?”
“I see you looking at that lady over there. She might not be receptive of you, but if you want to try then I’m not going to stop you.”
Zevran cocked an eyebrow. “You are a very strange woman,” he said. “From what I’ve seen of Ferelden women, you tend to be the jealous types.”
“Maybe, but you’re not mine. You’re free to do whatever you please.”
“Really?” This surprised him even more. “As interested as I am in what you are saying, I think I’m going to have to decline... for now.”
“Oh, why not? She not your type?”
Zevran laughed. “I don’t think there is a woman who isn’t my type. But no, I wasn’t looking at her, I was looking at the boots seated on the table in front of her.”
Arawin looked over to see the leather boots he was talking about. They were very beautiful and even from this distance, she could see they were of a fine make. “You were looking at boots?” Now it was Arawin’s turn to be surprised. “A fine young lady to stare at, but instead... boots?”
Zevran grinned at her. “Maybe you would rather spend some alone time with her, hmm? You certainly are staring hard at her yourself.”
“Well... maybe,” Arawin said timidly. It was something she had never thought of before, but the more she thought about it, the more she liked the idea, but only if it involved him. “If you joined us.”
“Now there’s something that would be fun,” he laughed. “But not now. Maybe later. As for the boots, they’re Antivan leather. I can smell them from here.” Zevran closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. He let it out slow in a long sigh. “It’s what I miss the most from my homeland.”
“Leather?”
“Yes, leather,” he chuckled. “Or at least the smell. For years I lived in a tiny apartment near Anitiva City’s leather-making district, in a building where the Crows stored their youngest recruits. Packed in like crates. I grew accustomed to the stench, even though the humans complained of it constantly. To this day the smell of fresh leather is what reminds me most of home more than anything else.”
Arawin saw the longing and hurt in his eyes. “Would getting them make you feel better?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “But don’t even bother. They are more than we have. Twenty sovereigns unless the price went up.”
Arawin smiled mischievously. “I wouldn’t worry much about the price. If you want them, then I’ll get them for you.” Arawin went to walk to the bazaar, but felt Zevran’s hand grab her arm.
“If you’re going to steal them,” he said. “Then I don’t want them.”
“What? Why not?”
“Anything else you might feel the urge to steal for me, I would be happy to accept, but not those.”
“I’m still failing to see why.”
“Because... It just wouldn’t be right. I wouldn’t feel right wearing them.” He hung his head and let go of her arm. Arawin still wasn’t sure she understood, but she stood where she was, shifting her gaze from him to the boots before settling on him.
“Alright,” she finally said. “I won’t steal them. But you will have them at some point.”
“And why would you do that for me?” he asked looking up at her.
“Because you’re a friend. Why would I not?”
“There are many reasons, but... thank you. I appreciate the thought at least.”
Arawin smiled, seeing that this was unusual for him. Did he have any friends within the Crows? She remembered that he had said there were no friendships amongst the Crows as it was a cutthroat business, and someone you might have considered as a friend one day, could stab you in the back the next.
“Just know, Zev, that my offer of friendship is true. I’m not going to hurt you. You are not amongst the Crows anymore.”
He stared at her with uncertainty, not really sure what to think or say. “I don’t know... Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” she smiled at him. “Now, let’s go gather up the rest of our party and head to the alienage. I can’t wait for you to meet my family. I know they’ll love you.” Arawin made her way in the direction of the others, missing the un-eased look on Zevran’s face as he began to follow her.
Arawin gathered Sten and Morrigan once they were done purchasing their goods and followed her as she lead them to the alienage gate. Once they reached it, to Araiwn’s surprise, the gate was closed. She was used to the humans closing the gate at night, but never during the day. An icy feeling then crept into her stomach as a thought came to mind. Arawin shook it off, though, not wanting to think about what it could mean. She reached the gate, and made to push it open, hoping the gate was only closed but not locked.
“By order of the new arl of Denerim, no one is to enter the alienage.” The guard standing at the edge came in front of her, pulling her away from the gate and blocking her.
Arawin stopped from his sudden appearance. “What, why? What’s going on?”
“The alienage is being purged,” said the guard. “So by orders of the arl, no one is allowed in or out.”
It was what Arawin feared. “Why is the alienage being purged?”
“Because of what happened with the late Arl Urien’s son, Vaughan. Some elves broke into the palace and killed him. They captured one of the elves, but she got away, now they’re trying to find out who else was involved. Not to mention the elves started up-raising when the new arl restricted their rights in order to find the culprits. It got so bad, he had no choice but to close it down and purge the bloody place. It’s not a pretty sight in there.”
Arawin’s heart froze, realizing this was all her fault. “Well, I’m from the alienage! My family is in there!” She blurted it out, not caring what she was saying. Her family could be in danger, and she needed to do something about it.
“You might not want to say that too loudly,” the guard said stunned. “Your kinfolk aren’t exactly popular at the moment.”
“Popular or not, let me in before I smash your face!” Arawin went to advance on him but Zevran grabbed her arms and pulled her back.
“So sorry,” he said. “We’ll be on our way.”
“You better,” said the guard. He had his sword out and kept it out as he watched them leave.
“Come on, Hermosa,” Zevran grunted as he fought and dragged Arawin away. “Now is not the time to get worked up.”
“You’re right,” Arawin said as she stopped fighting him. When they were far away enough, he let her go. “No, I can’t get worked up. I have to get in there.”
“You heard what the guard said,” said Sten. “No one is allowed in or out.”
“Through the gate,” Arawin pointed out. “There are other ways into the alienage besides the gate. I know of a few, course we’ll have to wait until nightfall in order to use them.”
“We won’t have till nightfall,” said Morrigan. “You’re little outburst over there has caused a stir.” She gestured over to the guard at the gate. He was now talking with another guard, whispering in his ear and staring straight at Arawin. “If they don’t think you’re a Grey Warden now, they will once they capture you for being an elf of the alienage.”
“They won’t capture me,” said Arawin. “We’ll just go either to the tavern or the Pearl and stay there until nightfall when we can sneak--”
“No, that is foolish and unwise,” Morrigan stated, placing her hands on her hips. “I will not have you putting us up on a platter for them to feast upon.”
“You’re not in charge, Morrigan.” Arawin matched the witches stance. “I’m in charge, and I say we wait until nightfall to sneak into the alienage.” She turned her back on Morrigan and glared at the two men, challenging them to her authority. “Do any of you object?”
Sten stood his ground but said nothing. Zevran looked at Arawin concerned. “Ara, I know you want to see your family, but it might not be a good time...”
“You’re seriously going to fight me on this?”
“No, I’m just saying--”
“Good, then what we’ll do is go over the wall next to the warehouse. I think staying at the tavern until night will be good, so let’s--” Arawin’s eyes rolled in the back of her head and her body went limp and collapsed. Zevran caught her before she could hit the ground and struggled to keep her up.
“Good catch,” said Morrigan as she rounded him. “But now that she’s out, I think we should get moving out of the city.” Her head shifted to the two guards that had now turned into four. They were beginning to make their way over to the small group.
Zevran picked Arawin up and held her in his arms. Her body flopped around in his arms like a doll as he followed Morrigan toward the main gate. “What did you do to her?” he asked.
“I just turned off her mind was all,” Morrigan answered.
“Turned off her mind? Does that mean you used...?”
“Blood magic? Yes.”
“You are a blood mage,” said Sten. “Somehow that does not surprise me.”
“You’re a blood mage and you never told us?” Zevran said heated. He was having trouble running and holding Arawin. Sten took her from him and flung her over his massive shoulder.
“Why are you surprised when the Qunari is not?” said Morrigan. “‘Tis not something that I was trying to hide.”
“You know the mage you killed when the three of you ran into my ambush?”
“Yes, she was a blood mage, but not nearly as organized.”
“Yeah, well she loved using her blood magic on me to help fuel her spells. I didn’t really appreciate it much and if you ever--”
“Oh stop! I do not use such permitted methods. There are better ways to gain mana than using a companion's life force.” Morrigan rolled her eyes. “Besides, you’ve already seen and even praised my blood magic so don’t even start with me.”
Zevran still didn’t feel comfortable with it, but he knew there was nothing he could do. He watched as Arawin bounced on Sten’s shoulder. “Is she going to be all right?”
“She’ll be fine,” Morrigan said without turning to him. “I will wake her once we are out of Denerim and far enough away, so stop your whining.”
Kunjo made his way to Sten’s side and looked up at Arawin and whimpered. He jumped as they walked, touching her hand with his nose.
“And that includes you too,” Morrigan said glaring down at him. “You’re mistress will be fine, I promise.”
Kunjo understood, but he still whimpered as he looked up at Arawin again. His eyes then shifted to Zevran and they both met. For once the mabari wasn’t as wary about the assassin as he now was about the witch that lead them out of the city.
***
She didn’t know where she was or the time. She didn’t know what happened, or how she had gotten here. All she knew was that she was angry, but she didn’t know why.
As Arawin began to open her eyes, seeing that she was in a tent, Zevran’s, as she recognized the stain on the ceiling, she began to remember. They had been in Denerim, and she was determined to get into the alienage to find her cousin, just learning about the purge. Something had happened while she was arguing with the others. One moment she was getting ready to make plans, the next moment she was finding herself awaking inside Zevran’s tent, not sure how she got there or even where they were.
Arawin sat up to find the tent empty besides herself. She could hear a fire outside, and muffled voices. Crawling to the entrance, she poked her head outside to find everyone sitting around the fire eating.
“Ah, ‘tis good to see you awake,” said Morrigan as she saw Arawin come out of the tent. “Are you feeling well? Perhaps some food would help.”
Arawin stood before them, seeing they were no longer in Denerim, but in the forest somewhere. “I’m not stupid, Morrigan,” she said glaring. “I don’t know what you did, but I know it was you who did it. Now why are we no longer in Denerim?”
“You were being a fool,” Morrigan said standing. Zevran and Sten did the same as the two women stared into each others eyes. “I had no choice.”
“You wouldn’t have even let me see her to make sure she was fine? That my father was fine, and also so they could see that I was fine. You couldn’t give me that?”
“It’s not that I didn’t want you to, it’s just that it could've been disastrous. Not only could the guards have found out about you, but they could've also found out who you’re family was. They then could have used them against you. Threatened their lives, which I’m sure you would have complied with anything after getting angry and trying to kill everyone before realizing you couldn’t.”
Arawin stopped for a moment, her anger still burning, but she hadn’t thought about what Morrigan had just said. She could have put her family in serious danger, or at least more danger than they were in now. “That might be so,” she said staring at the ground. “But that still doesn’t tell me how Shianni is.”
“You want to know about her?” said Zevran taking a step forward. “I can tell you personally that she’s fine.”
Arawin looked at him surprised. “And how would you know?”
“Because I’ve seen her. Talked to her even.”
“When?”
Zevran sighed. “Before I was given the order to take care of the remaining Grey Wardens, I was staying in Denerim. While there, I sort of ran into her as well as the rest of your family.”
“Really? And how do I know you’re not just saying this?”
“She looks like you, red hair, green eyes. Her brother, Soris, also has red hair, and his wife Valora is a brunette and somewhat mousy looking.”
Arawin’s expression was unchanged. “So you did talk with them. How did you meet them?”
“Well... I was interested in Shianni.”
The moment he said it, Zevran knew it was the wrong thing to say. He saw Arawin’s eyes darken and her fists tighten. If she had her swords, he had no doubt she would have reached for them.
“You what?” she said through clenched teeth.
“Now before you get the wrong idea--” Zevran tried to say.
“How dare you go after her!” Arawin screamed as she grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against a tree. Her eyes hard and blazing as she bored into his. He stared back, not fighting her even if he could easily make her let go. He was not going to back down.
“Listen to me before you start assuming. Nothing happened.”
“She has been through hell, and she doesn’t need someone like you forcing her into anything!”
“Did you hear anything I said?” Zevran placed his hands on her shoulders and she seemed to calm down but only slightly. “Nothing happened. I saw the hurt in her eyes and stopped.”
Arawin lessened her grip but didn’t let go. “Nothing happened?”
“Nothing.”
“And you saw that she was all right?”
“Shianni is a strong woman, Arawin. You know this. I even think she may be handling it better than you.”
Arawin let go of him but the burning in her eyes still remained. “She is strong, stronger than me in some cases. I was strong physically, while she was strong emotionally.” Arawin let out a long sigh and looked away from Zevran. “So I believe you when you say she’s all right.”
“Now the question is are you all right?”
Arawin walked away from him and stared out into the trees. She said nothing and neither did anyone else for a while.
“Let’s get everything packed up,” Arawin finally said but kept her eyes to the forest. “I want to get as much distance away from Denerim as possible before nightfall.”

Paraphrasing from Dragon Age: Origins
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Blood Bond