Pathways

They regrouped at the base of Sundermount, taking an hour to rest from the varterral fight and for Anders to grab lyrium potions for the group. Varric checked all of Bianca's gears, mumbling to himself about getting new touch-up equipment as Eldrun and Fenris quietly watched the group of Dalish gathered around the two other elves.

Aren was at the center of a circle of Dalish, all listening raptly to her weave the tale of the Battle of Amaranthine, pride on several of their faces. Zevran kept a polite appearance, but he was obviously unwilling to let the Warden out of arm's reach. What Eldrun didn't understand is why this clan seemed to respect her so much; clearly they were more comfortable because she was a fellow elf, but most Dalish shunned the city elves, or at least feared magic if Merrill was any example.

He looked up as a shadows came into his vision, Anders slumping on the rock Eldrun and Fenris sat on, closing his eyes as the lyrium potion took effect. Marethari had come up behind him, smiling softly as she watched Aren.

"You're curious," the older woman stated. Eldrun gave a small smile up at her. "Her mother was part of our clan some time ago. She is her mother's daughter, and much like Fenryiel, we do not abandon our own."

"I thought most of the clan was nervous around mages, though?" he asked. Anders snorted. Eldrun frowned, brow furrowing. "What?"

"You never met the cactus that was Velanna," he sighed. "She was a Dalish First we met in Amaranthine, the Commander was the only one who could keep her in check. She was angry at every little thing, hated everyone except the Commander, sharing Dalish blood and both mages. She liked Howe for some reason, though. Eventually. Short version, from what I know, a lot of Dalish are afraid that something will happen to them that's related to the Blight, not so much mages themselves. Or they're just afraid of human mages."

"You're not far off," Marethari added. "Hawke, you've only met myself and Merrill. We are not all bad. We have different ways of learning our magic than what your Circle teaches, and some do get lost along the way. Dalish mages are very, very rare; there is a reason we are Keepers. It was very unusual to have Aren and Merrill born the same generation, even if Aren did not grow up with us."

Fenris stood, catching the attention of the others, and they followed his line of vision to Aren, who had stood as well. However, every Dalish warrior had kneeled around her, a collective 'dareth shiral' harmonized. She visibly swallowed, falling to one knee and giving the phrase back to them. She stood, and they rose with her. Zevran placed his hand at the small of her back, and they exited the circle towards Hawke and the group.

Aren rolled her shoulders, looking at the auburn-haired mage who towered over her. "Are you all ready?" He nodded in response. "Good," she said, grabbing Anders by the arm and hauling him to his feet. "Up you lazy nug, you're gonna be high off that lyrium for at least 10 minutes." He grunted, but didn't protest as they began the route to the Wounded Coast.
- - - - - - - -
They found a small cliff about a quarter of a mile away from where smoke was rising behind a tent, giving away the Crow camp easily. Aren was crouched near the ledge, surveying and agreeing with herself that the organization was still largely run by nugs if they gave themselves away so readily. Or, it could be a trap.

Yeah, it was probably a trap.

Zevran reappeared at her side. "Would you bet they know I'm still alive? Or that you're here, my dear Warden?" he asked, settling his hand on the back of her neck. She leaned into it with a sigh.

"They're very obvious. I'm a little concerned it's a trap," she replied. "I thought about just casting a firestorm, but that takes the fun out of it for the rest of you."

He grinned, leaning over to kiss her temple. "You're so considerate, mi amor. Always willing to give victims as gifts."

She snorted. "Only if they want to kill us." She stood, grabbing Zevran and slinking back to where Eldrun and Varric were organizing the attack; Fenris and Anders were doing their best to ignore the other. "What's our plan?"

Eldrun angled himself towards her as she stopped to his left. "We were going to take point. If you and Zevran wanted to make a run for it, you'd have the opportunity, or take them from surprise from wherever you wish. Any other ideas?"

Aren shook her head. "No, sounds good. It's always fun blowing up the people who want me dead."

"Well firebird, you seem to have a habit of that," Varric laughed. "Unless that offends your delicate elven sensibilities."

Aren smiled at him, mirth obvious in her eyes. "I traveled with a drunken dwarf who had never met a shower who's called me far worse in his fits." Anders groaned. "Believe me, I am not offended."

"Can we not talk about Oghren?" Anders pleaded, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I couldn't get the smell out of my clothes for months that night he got kicked out of the tavern."

"That was only because you looked like a teddy bear with all that scruff, boy," Aren smirked. Anders scowled at her in return. "What? He did like you, Sparklefingers."

"Can we get to this fight, please?" Fenris said, voice snapping at the end. Eldrun looked at him, concern in his eyes. "I'm fine, I would just like to return home and continue our business."

Aren shrugged. "Fine with me. Zevran and I will take the cliff, we'll take them off guard when you need us to."

And so began the descent, Eldrun at the front of the foursome, Varric at his side and Fenris and Anders at the rear. The man who caught their attention a few days ago, Nuncio, if Eldrun remembered correctly, saw their approach and signaled his men to gather.

He approached with a scowl. "Well? Where is the murderer?"

Eldrun shrugged. "He wasn't there. We got caught up in a fight with a varterral, it seems likely that it killed him."

The Antivan glared at him in complete disbelief. "He traveled with the Warden, that sack of shit! There is no way a varterral maldito killed that bastard."

Eldrun flinched back when a knife lodged itself in Nuncio's shoulder, missing his jugular by an inch. He howled, clutching at his shoulder and pivoting to where Zevran stood, expression smug. "Hello, Nuncio. What have you been saying about me this time, hm? That I killed your wife and children? Started a slavery ring?"

Nuncio snarled. "I will kill you, you culo insufrible!"

Zevran smiled. "My friend, I welcome you to try." He opened his arms, and fireballs began to pour from the sky, several Crows from the cell screaming as they caught fire, unable to dodge it or snuff it out. Fenris took off into the tightest groups, sword swinging, as Varric picked off stragglers attempting to run. Eldrun as healing and keeping off friendly fire, as Anders was still riding a lyrium high and too concerned about Aren to focus wholeheartedly on the fight.

Aren slid down the hillside and came to stand beside Zevran, looking almost disinterested. "Wasn't this supposed to be a fight, Nuncio? Your last cell failed as well."

Zevran's eyebrow rose. "He was in charge or your Amaranthine attempt?" She nodded. "By all means, let me take him down in your honor, dear." She inclined her head towards the opposing rogue.

Fire glittered in Zevran's eyes as he drew twin blades, both coated in a sheen liquid poison as he met Nuncio's stance. They circled each other, ignoring the remnants of the losing cell crying out for mercy. Neither Anders nor Aren could tell who struck first, but she remained taught as a bow as they traded blow for blow equally, metallic tangs ringing out as the blades met each other. She wanted to intervene, but she was nowhere near the level of duelism that Crows dealt. This was a match to the death, and she prayed to whatever spirit that was listening that Zevran would soon win.

Her hopes proved true as he swept Nuncio's feet out from underneath him, not wasting a second of driving his dagger through the other Crow's throat. Blood spurt out of his mouth as he tried to curse at Zevran one final time, grip tight on his wrist before it fell to the ground, life in the body gone. Zevran pulled his blade back and wiped it on the dead Crow's uniform before sheathing it and returning to Aren's side.

Eldrun was fussing over a large gash Fenris had gotten in the fight, and Varric was looting the chest by Nuncio's tent. Anders still looked relatively confused. Aren sighed, taking his arm and guiding him to where the Champion and his lover sat.

"So that was a Crow cell," Eldrun said happily. "They throw the best welcome parties I've ever seen, and I've been to Chauteau Haine!" He gasped, throwing a mocking hand over his mouth. "Oh wait, they tried to kill me there, too."

Aren smiled, no humor present this time. "Believe me, if I had a sovereign for every time someone tried to kill me, I'd be able to buy anything in Orlais. You get used to it after a while."

Fenris finally met Aren's eyes, subtlety nodding at her. She assumed that was an apology for accusing her of being possessed. Okay. "What are your intentions now?" he questioned, clearing his throat. "Should you not return to your post?"

Aren shrugged. "I left Nate and Velanna in charge. The Keep should be fine for quite a while, they're both capable. And Velanna's terrifying on a good day. I think I'd like to stay around here for a while, your city is...uneasy. I do not like it."

Anders was sobering, and stared at the ground, grim-faced. "The templars are out of control here, Commander. If you ever thought it was bad in Ferelden..." He shook his head. "This them taking Greagoir's order of the Rite of Annulment and executing it."

Eldrun sighed, standing up. "Meredith has gone a bit power-crazy. I'm not sure what to do about it. She and Orsino are trying to pit me against the other, it's really quite frustrating."

"Meredith has her reasons, and they are not unjustified," Fenris added, gaining a deeper scowl from Anders and a raised eyebrow from Aren. "However, she is...extreme. I do not agree with her actions, but I understand her cause. Orsino is no better. I do not trust him."

"Neither do I, and I've only met the man once," Aren sighed, running her hand through her hair, although it was a hopeless mess of waves by now. As Varric rejoined the group with the stolen goods, she added, "I think we should regroup at the Hanged Man."

"No," Eldrun added quickly. "It's not secure enough. I have enough room at my home, if you are willing to use a small mattress in the library."

Aren blinked. "You realize I literally slept on mud and in the Deep Roads during the Blight, correct? If I have a roof over my head I'm pleased."

"We accept your offer, Champion," Zevran smiled, curling an arm around Aren and settling his hand over her hip. "I do believe we should leave before crows come to eat, however."

"I hope you're talking about the birds," Varric muttered. "They scratched Bianca."

Zevran smiled wryly. "With the Crows? They could be anywhere."