There and Back Again Ch. 085-086

Sereda insisted she had plans for regaining a couple of the closest Thaigs; by offering Caste changes in return for service, she felt those Casteless who could fight could be organised into military units to do the retaking, and perhaps some of those who couldn't fight might be convinced to help with scouring the stone with fire. Once done, she intended to gift part of the first Thaig cleared to the Casteless, in a bid to clear out Dust Town.

"After the Blight," she clarified, to everyone's evident satisfaction.

Faren actually spent a fair bit of time with Sereda, discussing her ideas for the Casteless; she proposed schools, training programs, and offering dowries for Casted families that took a Casteless as a spouse; she also planned to change it such that the children could choose which of their parents' Castes to take, instead of having it forced upon them because of their gender. That meant that any children of a union with a Casteless dwarf would elevate the entire family. A noble hunter could guarantee being raised up, just by being pregnant, without having to wait to find out the gender of their offspring, and no women who became pregnant by a Casteless man would be discarded if they refused to abort or kill their sons.

She also proposed to allow people to maintain their caste even after a divorce, to prevent abuse of desperate Casteless dwarves. That possibility hadn't even occurred to me, but apparently it was all too common among nobles with their noble-hunter mistresses.

It still seemed a bit discriminatory, to me, but Faren was actually quite impressed by the depth of the plans Sereda had thought out. I supposed that, compared to how things were, anything would be a dramatic improvement.

Gorim didn't seem especially pleased to see Faren spending so much time with Sereda, but he also looked incredibly proud, listening to her describe the way she saw Orzammar's glorious future; her face lit up, and she gestured with her hands as she spoke, the most animated I'd seen her since we'd met. He seemed to be distancing himself from her, though; I noticed that he often slept in the pile with all of us, while she tended to curl up alone. It hurt to watch.

Oghren, on the other hand, stumbled along as if in a stupor, though for once I didn't think alcohol was the problem. I'd seen it before, with acquaintances on Earth -- he was depressed. Not that I could blame him; between his wife leaving him, cheating on him, turning into a crazy person, and then being killed, he had more than enough to be bothered by.

I pulled Aedan into a conversation with Duncan and Oghren one day while walking.

"I have been thinking some more about how to bring down the Archdemon if we manage to prevent the darkspawn from taking Denerim," I began. They all nodded. A flying target was going to make a difficult kill. "It occurred to me that I saw a weapon, back where I came from, that might be of use if it could be adapted. And I wondered who would be in the best position to do the needed adaptations."

I went on to describe bolas. They were a mostly South American native weapon, though I thought that they might also have been used in Africa and Asia, and I'd seen similar things being used by the comic book character Batman. They consisted of weights, attached by ropes, that could be thrown to wrap around the legs of a creature and prevent it from getting away. The versions I could recall had either two or three weights, but either way the ropes would tangle and the creature would fall. I wondered whether something similar could be used to foul the wings of an Archdemon -- but somehow, if it was to work, they'd need to be launched. Hand-throwing would not be accurate enough, nor able to make the distances required for a flying creature.

Oghren claimed that the smith caste in Orzammar were likely to be the best placed to develop such a launcher, and Duncan agreed. Not only were they experts at making crossbows, but most of the ballista-type weapons in Thedas had been created by them as well. Sereda, overhearing the conversation, promised to help get us in touch with a crafter of some sort who could possibly make it work.

The week passed quickly; the Legion were nothing if not efficient at setting up and taking down camp, and with the Wardens to sense the darkspawn, it was even easier to progress. Everyone seemed to have an assigned task, and they carried them out with a minimum of fuss. It was an impressive feat to see sixty people ready to go with that degree of military precision. I'd worried that getting that many people moving would take a lot of extra time in the morning, but usually the Legion was waiting on us, not the other way around.

The closer we got to Orzammar, the lighter the oppression felt; I watched our entire group, and even several of the Legion, come out of their shells and be positively joyful as we approached the city. Zev and Anders were definitely the most noticeable; the two men were practically running towards Orzammar, with smiles and springing steps that made me grin.

Chapter Eighty-Six: *Foot, Meet Mouth

Even though it was getting late when we came to the well-lit area that I knew led to the gates to Orzammar, no one was going to stop. We pushed on, too eager to be out of the Deep Roads to camp, and arrived at the gates in the middle of the night. As such, they were closed and locked, but Duncan knew the secret to opening the complicated structures, and he showed each of the Wardens so we would all be able to do it in an emergency.

He explained that the doors were anchored by dozens of feet of circumferential metal more than a foot thick, which was melded right into the stone all the way around using some strange dwarven technology he couldn't explain. They were unbreachable even by ogres and magic, and to anyone's knowledge, the darkspawn had never managed to tunnel around one.

There were two very surprised guards, who looked like they'd woken from a nap when the doors at their back swung open, and more than fifty dwarves and a group of Grey Wardens poured through. As previously agreed, almost all of the dwarves wore full helmets, so that Sereda and Gorim could pass unnoticed. Scrambling over themselves to welcome us back to Orzammar, one of the guards ran to get the captain, though Duncan tried to convince them not to bother.

The captain was less than impressed by the late-night disruption, but was polite enough when he realised who Duncan was. He urged us to head to the estate, which was not difficult to convince us to do, and we parted ways with the Legion. Kardol promised to come to the estate the next day, and went his own way.

When we finally reached the estate, we crept in quietly, hoping not to disturb anyone. We needn't have bothered -- apparently gossip travels fast in Orzammar, and Mistress Leta was expecting us. She was in a housecoat and had her hair up, but despite that was her efficient, no-nonsense self. She had us leave everything except personal items in the common room, vowing to have someone take a look in the morning and clean what could be salvaged, burning the rest.

7

She organised us into lines for bathing in each of the three rooms containing a bathtub. With a sparkle in her eye, she informed us that no one would be sharing a bath that night, since there were too many of us who needed in there and we tended to take too long when we bathed with friends. I was impressed she managed not to look directly at Alistair or me while making the announcement, and was too tired to be too disappointed by bathing alone.

I was allowed one of the first baths -- Mistress Leta made the others draw straws, but ushered me directly into a room with the water already drawn, and Sereda, after the requisite kneeling and bowing, was put in the room next to mine. It was probably sexist, and I didn't care in the least. I found a bucket and filled it with water, first just rinsing myself off fully dressed, before I peeled myself out of my now-wet leathers and did it again naked. I piled the destroyed armour in a corner -- it was definitely going to need burning -- and proceeded to use a washcloth and another bucket of water to scrub the worst of the filth off my skin. It had been more than a week since we'd used the rune-sink in Bownammar to clean up, and even that hadn't been thorough. The black water I sluiced down the drain was evidence enough of that. I washed my hair in the bucket next, using a harsh soap meant for that exact purpose.

Finally satisfied that I at least wouldn't have to sit in a tub full of filth and taint, I climbed in. The water was bordering on too hot, that perfect temperature where it makes skin tingle without causing too much pain, and I sank down into with a sigh. I didn't soak for too long -- there were thirteen people who needed a bath as badly as I did, plus a mabari and a handful of golems who'd need to be scrubbed -- so after a brief dunk, I scrubbed myself clean again, using the nicer soaps Leliana always seemed to find us, and then washed and conditioned my hair and got out of the bath. I left brushing my teeth 'til last -- I'd long ago run out of toothpaste, but had gotten some baking soda from the kitchen and used that.

All I had clean were dresses and nighties, so I slipped into the nighty picked out by Mistress Leta and opened the door. I'd beaten Sereda out, and could hear the angry shouting of what must have been Oghren being forcibly bathed by Mistress Leta. Poor Alistair had drawn the shortest straw, apparently, and was going to have to wait to bathe last. I resisted hugging him and soiling my nighty, and instead headed to our room to wait.

I was exhausted, and as much as I knew I wanted Alistair, I was pretty sure that wasn't going to happen before I'd gotten some rest; somehow, though, despite the fatigue, I wasn't ready to lay down and go to sleep, either. I tried, briefly, but the bed was too soft, the blankets too warm, the pillows rustled too noisily...I was up again in less than five minutes, trying not to hyperventilate. I puttered about the room, adjusting pillows and blankets and just generally wasting time, noticing all the while that the walls seemed awfully close, and were pushing in on me more and more as time went on. It was embarrassing, as I knew in my head everything was fine, but my heart rate skyrocketed and I felt short of breath; I had to escape. With a panicked squeak, I slipped out the door into the corridor.

I could hear all the commotion from the bathing rooms down the hall, and decided against going down there; I'd end up getting dirty again and needing another bath. And I don't want to admit that I'm too scared to lay down alone. Instead I wandered, eventually making my way to the library, where I chose a book somewhat at random and curled up in a convenient armchair to wait for everyone to be done.

Sereda joined me a few minutes later; she also picked a book, and sat staring at the pages without reading. We sat together in companionable silence until others slowly started filtering in. Bel came in, nodded at both of us, and tucked himself on the floor in a corner, not even bothering to pick out a book; Sten walked in and stood quietly against a wall, looking strange and uncomfortable without armour. Faren was next, followed by Duncan, Jowan, Anders, Gorim, Aedan, Zevran, Prince, and finally Alistair.

No one spoke. This is surreal. I ran my fingers through Alistair's soft, damp hair as he sat at my feet and put his head in my lap; I squeezed a hand here or there, but otherwise all was completely silent. Once everyone had settled in, sprawled on the thick carpet or various pieces of furniture, I finally fell asleep.

Duncan woke us once with ungodly screams, remaining confused for some time afterwards; Anders went in search of one of his sleeping potions, and once Duncan was out cold, we all settled in again. Leliana, Solona, and Morrigan found us there the following morning, waking us with a tinkle of laughter. All of us who'd been in the Deep Roads, with the exception of the golems who were apparently being washed in the dining hall, were there, blinking owlishly at the intrusion in our much-needed, rather uncomfortable sleep.

Grumbling and generally cranky, everyone rose and limped towards the dining room for breakfast. No one explained what had brought us all to sleep in the library when we had perfectly good rooms with beds just down the hall; I wasn't sure I knew, if I was honest. I just knew I couldn't stand being alone, and apparently neither could anyone else. I suppose it was just another puppy pile -- on carpet in a library, but still.

Once everyone had been fed, we spent about half an hour telling the stories of all our adventures in the Deep Roads, and making introductions, for the benefit of Sereda and Caridin. Oghren wandered in after a while; the only one not to join the puppy pile in the library, he'd apparently passed out drunk in his room after being washed. I got the impression he didn't remember the bath -- he wasn't angry enough -- though clearly he should have suspected something, since he wore nothing but a pair of oversized trousers that kept threatening to fall right off.

They'd have to shave more than his back to call him an elf. I choked back a laugh, averted my eyes, and continued in the lively discussion with the girls we'd left behind.

It turned out they'd had some adventures of their own; Leliana had acquired a nug as a pet, unsurprisingly named Schmooples, and Solona had been convinced to do every annoying side quest in Orzammar that I remembered from the game, and then some. She'd agreed we would - eventually - escort Dagna to the Circle Tower, rescued a woman from Dust Town whose family had tried demanding she abandon her child in the Deep Roads, run the Lyrium smugglers who'd tried to take over from the Carta out of town, and made an agreement with Brother Burkel that she'd support his bid to open a Chantry if he agreed to run a school for Casteless children in Dust Town. And then she'd hounded every Casteless family in Dust Town to ensure they'd send their child to the new school.

Kardol arrived as we were all admiring Schmooples the nug - though I was fairly certain that, for the dwarves at least, admiring was mostly imagining the beast roasted on a stick - and he laughed with us as Leliana scooped her beloved pet up and carried him off to her room before anyone could go beyond imagining.

Given that everyone who'd come with us to the Deep Roads was still exhausted, we decided that we would petition the Assembly for a hearing the next day, and then boarded ourselves in and refused to answer the door. I had dreams of alone time with Alistair, but was interrupted by Leliana, Solona, and Morrigan, who dragged me off to talk privately. I shot an apologetic smile at Alistair as I was whisked away; he grinned and me and blew me a kiss when no one was looking.

It seemed being basically alone together had been good for the three women; Morrigan had never seemed to like Leli, but she tolerated her now, and Leli had stopped making comments about how she would 'fix' Morrigan's appearance. Morrigan seemed to have some grudging respect for Solona, while Solona and Leliana were giggling together like old friends.

The girls seemed concerned at how I was coping since seeing the broodmother, and I shuddered as I described my horror to them again. Nothing could quite compare to how disgusting, and smelly, and slimy that creature was, and how glad I was we had slaughtered it. And then I remembered having to fight more of them in Awakenings, and had to close my eyes and forcibly relax before I threw up.

Once satisfied that I was managing, and that being alone with all those men for such a long time hadn't damaged me in some way, Leliana and Morrigan wandered off, leaving me alone with Solona. The mage had a curious look on her face, and I waited silently to hear what she would say.

When nothing seemed forthcoming, and the pregnant silence grew uncomfortable, I spoke.

"Solona? Everything okay?"

She jumped, and I stifled a giggle. "Um, yeah. I'm fine. I just..."

I took pity on her. "You want to know how Anders handled it down there?"

She nodded, and I saw unshed tears glisten in her eyes. "He's never liked dark, confined spaces."

"No, he sure doesn't. But he was okay. Better than I expected, actually. Maybe it was having all of us there, maybe it's that the Deep Roads aren't quite as claustrophobic as a dungeon cell, or maybe it was just a facade to cover up his discomfort, but he did almost as well as any of us."

"He left me a letter, before he left." I nodded; he'd told me. "I haven't opened it yet. I...Do you..." She trailed off, looking helpless.

"Do you want me to open it for you?"

She looked startled. "Would you?"

I nodded. "I would, though I don't need to, honestly. Want me to tell you what it says?"

She thought about it for a minute. "Yes. Please."

"It says that he still loves you, and that he wants a chance to explain. There were circumstances you aren't aware of, things that happened before you met, that drove his behaviour; and rather than explain it, he tried to protect you from it."

She scoffed. "Excuses."

I shrugged. "Yes, they are. He was stupid, and he should have known better. That said, you sure you don't want at least an honest apology?"

"The circumstances...you know? He told you?"

I nodded.

"And what do you think? If it was you, would you forgive him?"

"I...no. Not exactly. But I'd feel a whole lot better about myself knowing why he did it, and knowing for sure that it wasn't about me. Wasn't my fault, somehow. Being a victim is worse than being an unfortunate bystander while other things were happening."

She was quiet, and I waited. She has to decide on her own. I won't push. But Maker, I hope she at least talks to him.

"I...need to think. And open that letter."

I smiled sadly. "You want me to stay with you? Or I can get Leliana, or Jowan?"

"No, thanks. I think I need some time alone."

She got up and walked slowly up to her room, and I watched her go. She looked eighty years old, and tired. I didn't blame her.

I walked through the dining room on my way to my own room, nodding to the collection of people there. Anders and Jowan were looking between me and Solona's retreating back with an obvious question on each of their minds. I shrugged. Not my place to talk about it. They were seated with Bel, Oghren, Sten, and Faren, who appeared to have initiated a drinking contest - at least, the dwarves had, while Sten watched with a disapproving stare. I assumed Duncan was sleeping, or maybe talking to Kardol or the messenger to the Assembly, and that Zev and Aedan had disappeared into their room to do what I wanted to be doing with Alistair. I wondered where Sereda and Gorim had gotten off to until I noticed one additional large bedroom on the main floor was occupied. I shrugged, hoping they knew what they were doing.

Everyone who'd been in the Deep Roads had shaved and had their hair cut, and all looked back to their normal selves. Most of the normally clean-shaven men had kept their facial hair short-ish during our expedition -- I'd brought along my scissors -- but they'd gotten scruffy towards the end; Duncan had been positively bushy, and I imagined he'd cleaned up some as well.

Morrigan found me in the hallway on the way to my room. The witch had waited for me, trying to look casual but failing; I wondered if she wanted something.

"Hey, Morrigan." I tried to keep my tiredness out of my voice, not wanting her to take it personally. "How were things here, really, while I was gone?" I raised my eyebrows.