VI. Minds That Have to Whisper

As the weeks slowly passed, Kali, Zevran, and even Anyu, gradually came to adjust to life with the Dalish, which was very different from what they were used to in Vigil's Keep.

For starters, life with the Dalish was often comprised of hard work; not that Kali or Zevran had ever been very idle in Vigil's Keep. From morning to night they had been busy: training the Wardens, plotting routes to the Deep Roads, drilling the soldiers, or doing whatever task needed to be done.

Work with the Dalish, however, was much different from what Kali and Zevran were used to. This was a race of people who didn't have a secure home or comfortable beds; people who couldn't go to the market to buy their food, or to a well to get fresh water. They had to work hard, or else they wouldn't survive.

From the moment the Clan had welcomed them, Chief Tasar, who was in charge of the hunters, had decided that Zevran would join the hunting. The assassin's stealth and quiet movements were a welcome addition to a group that was responsible for feeding the Clan. Zevran, for his part, seemed to enjoy being a hunter. He claimed that it reminded him of chasing down a mark, albeit without the poison. Sometimes the hunters would be gone for days, and most of the time they were successful in finding food. But, sometimes they came home empty handed, which did nothing to sweeten the tempers of those Dalish who claimed that this place was cursed against them.

Kali was technically considered a hunter as well, but Chief Tasar—who made all the decisions regarding his hunters—had decided that she should stay behind with some of the younger hunters, protecting the Clan in case of mishap, which was fine by her. Kali wouldn't have been very good at hunting; she always felt badly for the animals. Besides, to leave the Clan would mean leaving Anyu and, although the girl was quickly taking to life with the Dalish, Kali wanted to make sure she didn't feel alone.

Most days, Kali left the young hunters—who spent the hours training or catching small birds nearby the camp—and instead helped some of the women of the Clan; she helped carry water from the nearby stream, scoured the hillside for fresh herbs, learned how they cooked, and even took part in their weaving. The Dalish were very skilled with cloth, and Kali loved watching them make blankets so snug that even a winter chill couldn't penetrate them.

There was never a time when she wasn't busy; everyone was always busy. Even the children, Anyu among them, who raced through the camp playing rough and tumble, were given tasks to help the Clan. They helped with the washing—where they splashed in the water and got everyone soaked—or gathered sticks for the fire—making a game of who could collect more.

Kali found it a strange life. She had never really thought about how the Dalish lived. She had certainly never realized how hard they worked just to survive. But, although she was exhausted every night, there was a wonderful sense of camaraderie to it all. The Dalish were always willing to help one another, always laughing or singing together. And, they went out of their way to make Kali, Zevran, and Anyu feel welcome.

Once, when Kali had accidentally added a spicy seasoning to the stew she was supposed to be watching, no one complained that she had almost ruined precious food. Instead, Ashalle—Ashara's adopted mother who constantly plied Kali with a thousand questions as to how her daughter was doing—had laughingly showed Kali how to add different spices to temper the flavor. Everyone had teased Kali about it afterward, Zevran included, but it was good-natured teasing.

Kali was beginning to see why Ashara and Tamlen still missed their Clan. Even though Kali worked hard and had to do without the comforts she had gotten used to in Vigil's Keep, she had started to love this tight feeling of kinship. Everyone relied on everyone else. The Dalish depended on each other for survival, which left them with a unity that reminded Kali of living in the Alienage, where most of the elves tried to help and look out for each other.

This morning, Kali was in the halla pen with Maren—a sweet woman with a cheerful smile and lovely voice—helping to brush down the beautiful creatures Kali had fallen in love with. She couldn't get enough of the silver deer and had volunteered to help Maren whenever she requested it.

At first, Maren had been a bit hesitant to accept Kali's help. Maren was the halla caretaker, and the halla weren't known for accepting outsiders; Maren didn't want to spook them. But, they seemed to take to Kali, which made her fall in love even more. She adored feeding them, and giggled whenever their velvet lips brushed against the palm of her hand.

The task of taking care of the halla was a very important one, Maren had explained, as the halla were some of the most sacred animals to the Dalish.

According to Dalish lore, the Creator Ghilan'nain—who would become the First Halla—had once been part of the Elvhenan. Once, when she was out hunting with her sisters, she came across a hunter who had killed a hawk, one of the two animals most sacred to Andruil. Ghilan'nain cursed the hunter for his sacrilege, and soon the hunter lost his ability to kill, which made him the source of many jokes and taunts. What use is a hunter that can't hunt, his Clan demanded. His wife and son left him, and the hunter blamed Ghilan'nain for his misfortune. In a false show of repentance, he lured her away from her sisters, begging her to show him how to atone for his transgression.

But, once he had Ghilan'nain alone, the hunter attacked her, putting out her eyes and binding her tightly. He couldn't kill her because of the curse, so he left her wounded and alone. Andruil, who loved Ghilan'nain for her devotion, sent her hares to chew through the binding and free Ghilan'nain. But, Ghilan'nain still couldn't see, so Andruil turned her into a halla, which allowed Ghilan'nain to find her sisters and lead them to the hunter, who was brought to justice. Once Ghilan'nain's task was finished, Andruil gathered her into the Beyond, so that she could live with the Creators she cherished and know peace.

According to Maren, Mythal—the Great Mother—adored the silver deer that Ghilan'nain had become, and asked Andruil to create more of them. Mythal, Maren said, loved all living creatures. So, Andruil created more halla to populate the world, and Ghilan'nain gave them the task of always guiding the Elvhenan to safety, which they continued to do to this day. Maren said that if a hunter was wounded and alone, he or she would always be found by a halla, who would guide them back the safety of the Clan.

Kali had already heard the story from Ashara, who looked for any excuse to recite tales of the Dalish, but she loved hearing it again, especially now that she had actually met Sylaise and Andruil. Before, she had listened to the stories of the Creators as just that; stories that were fascinating, but mostly just tales to recite to children. Now, however, Kali found herself wondering if these stories were actually true, which drew her in more. She cringed when she heard Maren describe the pain Ghilan'nain suffered at the hunter's hands, and cheered when the hunter was brought to justice.

"Still not eating, lath'en?"

Maren's soft words interrupted Kali's thoughts; she peeked around the silver neck of the halla she was brushing. "What's wrong, Maren?"

The redhead frowned, not taking her eyes off the halla in front of her. "This one hasn't eaten for a few days, and I'm starting to worry. I think she might be getting sick."

Kali walked over to the halla, her eyes wide. The halla stood with her head drooped slightly, though her eyes were still clear and black. Kali didn't know much about halla, of course, but to her it looked like she was just tired. "Do you know what's wrong with her?"

"No, I don't," Maren said. She stroked the halla's neck in a soothing motion, but the halla didn't respond. "What's wrong, love? Are you not feeling well?"

After a few moments of silence, Maren's frown deepened. "This is getting to be a problem. We must take this to the Keeper."

"Is it so strange for the halla to get sick?" Kali asked. "At Vigil's Keep, some of the horses got sick occasionally. The stable boys just made them rest for a few days and eat well; most of the time, that's all they needed to get better."

Maren shook her head. "Halla are different from horses. They're directly linked to Ghilan'nain; the only animal on Thedas to be created by Andruil. It's not unheard of for them to get sick, but it is rare."

"But, the Keeper can help her, can't she?"

"Maybe." Maren still looked hesitant.

"What is it?" Kali asked, sensing that something else was bothering Maren.

"Well, all of them have been worrying me lately."

Kali looked around the pen where the nine halla were gathered together. It was a large area, large enough for them to canter around without feeling cramped. The halla didn't usually prance around, though. Instead, they ambled along like horses, eating grass at a slow pace, occasionally lying down and watching the Clan silently. "They look fine to me."

"That's because you only just arrived," Maren said. "Normally, the halla are very energetic. They play with each other during the day, kicking up grass and dirt and tossing their heads. At night, when the Clan is settling down for sleep, the halla make a sort of wavering cry, like a musical bleat, that is beautiful to hear."

"Really?" Kali hadn't heard a peep out of them since she had come to the Clan.

Maren nodded. "At first, I thought that they were just drained. They've never been in one place for such a long time; they're used to pulling the aravels every few months. They like to work and move around freely, so I thought they were just sad at being cooped up for so long. But, if one of them is getting sick from it... maybe it's more serious than I thought. I don't know why the Keeper..." She pressed her lips together, cutting herself off before she spoke ill of Marethari.

But, Kali knew what Maren had wanted to say; it was a common topic among the Dalish. No one could understand why they were staying in one place for so long. According to Fenarel, the Keeper had said that she had a promise to keep, which the Clan assumed had something to do with the human woman who had visited the Clan a year after they had arrived in Kirkwall, carrying a strange amulet. Marethari had instructed her to take the amulet to an altar on top of Sundermount, and sent Merrill to perform a strange ritual.

Then, when the woman had left, Merrill had gone with her. Kali recognized the woman as Carver's sister, though she couldn't remember her name. Carver had told the Wardens all about his sister's habit of collecting strange allies.

Fenarel had said that the Clan hadn't much cared for Carver's sister. She was nice enough—for a shem, he had added—but she had brought with her a snippy elf who had looked down on the Dalish, a woman who wouldn't stop leering at the men, and a dwarf that had kept pestering hahren Paivel for Dalish stories. When the strange group had finished with their task, taking Merrill with them, the Clan had thought that they could finally leave.

But, Marethari had informed them that they were to stay longer. She had said she still had business to take care of, though she wouldn't tell them what that business was.

"Come," Maren said suddenly, seemingly coming to a decision. "Let's go talk to the Keeper."

Kali nodded and the two of them climbed over the fence of the halla pen and walked towards the center of the camp, where Keeper Marethari could always be found.

In the weeks that Kali had lived with the Dalish, she hadn't yet gotten the chance to speak with the Keeper. Marethari never strayed from the center of the camp and was always available to anyone who had a question or concern but, whenever Kali tried to approach her, the Keeper seemed distant. She was pleasant enough; she smiled at Kali and politely inquired as to how she, Zevran, and Anyu were adjusting to life with the Dalish, but she didn't invite Kali to sit or give her much of a chance to speak.

Although, what Kali found really strange, was that Marethari hadn't once spoken to Anyu about her magic. Ashara had said that the Keeper had asked if Anyu could be her First, so Kali had assumed that Marethari would want to begin Anyu's training, or see how much Anyu already knew. So far, however, the Keeper hadn't spoken to Anyu at all. But, whenever Kali tried to ask her about it, Marethari either changed the subject or excused herself.

"Excuse me, Keeper," Maren said politely as the two of them approached Marethari's fire, which was always kept lit. Ashalle had said that the chilly mountain air was difficult for some of the hahren.

Marethari looked up from the large book in her lap with a pleasant smile. "Aneth ara, da'len. What can I do for you?"

"It's about the halla." Maren kept her head respectfully lowered—Kali had noticed that all of the Dalish did this when speaking to one of the hahren—but her eyes were narrowed. "One of them is getting sick, and the others are still behaving strangely." She hesitated, as if wondering if she should continue, but then lifted her head with a determined look on her face. "Keeper, I know that you have reasons for keeping us here, but isn't it time to move on? I fear that the halla will only get worse if we linger."

Kali tried to keep the surprise from her face. In the time that she had been with the Dalish, she had never seen anyone directly question the Keeper. Normally, they grumbled to themselves; occasionally, they would bring their troubles to hahren Paivel or Chief Tasar but, to the Keeper's face, they usually remained silent. Maren must be more worried than she let on.

But, Marethari didn't seem offended, or even angry. She was as calm as ever; her face showed no emotion. "I understand your concerns, da'len, but there is business that keeps me here. I am afraid we cannot move yet."

"Are you going to keep us here forever?" Maren burst out.

The Keeper lowered her head. "I know that you, all of you, are angry. But, it is for the good of the Clan that I keep you here. You must trust me."

Maren fell silent and the Keeper let out a sigh. "Take care of the halla as best you can; if one is indeed sick, I will see what my magic can do. If they need to leave their pen, you are free to let them out to roam. Perhaps, that will help them."

Maren looked as though she wanted to say something, but after a time she jerked her head in a nod. "Ma nuvenin, Keeper." Without a word to Kali, she twisted on her heel and walked off.

Kali wasn't sure if she should say something to Marethari. Maybe the Keeper didn't realize just how frightened the Clan really was? They thought they were cursed. They feared that their food would run out, that this place was haunted by angry spirits. Surely, if she knew, Marethari would allow them to move.

But, before Kali could work up the courage to say something, the Keeper let out a deep sigh and, without a word, walked towards her aravel, soon disappearing inside.

Left alone, Kali stood silently for a moment before she realized she had been dismissed. Not for the first time, she wondered if Marethari had been lying when she had said she was pleased to welcome them. Kali hadn't told her why they had come—she hadn't been sure if she should mention her meeting with the Creators—so maybe the Keeper was angry? Did she think they were just using her Clan to hide from the Wardens?

Kali tried to tell herself that it didn't matter; the rest of the Clan was happy to have them. Everyone was very nice and welcoming, and treated Kali, Zevran, and Anyu as if they were family.

She wandered through the camp, smiling despite herself as she saw Anyu running after some of the other children, her young face lit up with laughter. So far, it seemed that Anyu liked living with the Dalish; she warmed to their attention, and no longer cried at night for her parents. She still asked when her parents would come join them but, instead of being sad, she was now excited about all the stories she could tell Ashara and Tamlen.

Kali watched the children gather around Master Ilen, begging him to let them watch him work, and walked over to one of the central fires; where a bunch of women and hunters—Zevran among them—were gathered together, laughing at familiar jokes as they went about their tasks.

"I still don't understand why you had to bring back all those poisonous plants," Fenarel said as Kali approached. "Why would we need poison?"

Zevran laughed. "Oh, I can think of quite a few uses. Perhaps some irritating human might stumble into your camp again, and you might need to encourage them to leave. The threat of poison is a fine motivation, I have found."

Kali shook her head as a ripple of female giggles greeted his words. Zevran had a way of charming everyone, man or woman, and the Dalish were no exception. Especially the Dalish women, who found any excuse to ask him a question, or begged him to try the food they made. And, they always wanted to hear about his time with the Crows; to hear their enthusiasm, one would've thought Zevran had been the Guild Leader of the whole order.

Part of Kali was bothered by it, but Zevran had made it very clear to the Clan that he was unavailable. He didn't go out of his way to flirt with anyone; the women were just naturally drawn to him. Besides, Kali had known the consequences of his unique charm when she fell in love with him. And, she trusted him.

Zevran looked up as she approached the fire. "There you are, my lovely Warden." Chaya, one of the Dalish women, gave her a dirty look which, unfortunately, was another common occurrence with Zevran.

"Aneth ara, lethallan," Fenarel said. "Is Maren finished with the halla?"

Zevran scooted over to make room for her, and she sat down next to him. "Well, we didn't get much done; Maren noticed that one of the halla is getting sick."

Everyone grew quiet at her words. "Sick?" Luan repeated. "How bad is it?"

"I don't know," Kali admitted. "But, Maren wanted to talk to the Keeper about it. She thinks that the halla need to work and move around to get some of their energy back."

"What did the Keeper say?" Fenarel asked.

"She said that Maren was welcome to let the halla out to get some exercise; that that might help them."

One of the hunters, Meira, shook her head. "Poor Maren; she must be worried." She jumped to her feet. "I'll go talk to her and see if she needs help." She darted off towards the pen.

After she was gone, a silence settled over the group. After a time, Leyla, a quiet girl who never said much, let out a sigh. "This place truly is cursed."

"Nonsense," Chana said indignantly. "The Keeper wouldn't make us stay here if this place was cursed."

"How else do you explain everything that's happened?" Luan demanded. "Look at all the bad luck we've had! Our First tried to bring back the darkspawn taint, and then abandoned us to live with shemlen, we have to travel further and further to find food, and now the halla are getting sick!"

"Even hahren Paivel says that Keeper knows what she's doing," Chana retorted. "If we turn on the Keeper, or start doubting her wisdom, it spells disaster for our Clan!"

Kali stood up quickly. "Excuse me; I'll be right back." Zevran gave her a curious look; she shrugged and walked towards the aravel that she shared with him and Anyu.

She climbed inside, settling herself on the comfortable blankets the Dalish made, and soon heard footsteps approaching. Zevran's face appeared in the open side of the aravel, looking inquisitive. "Is everything all right?"

Kali nodded. "Oh, yes. I'm fine." She was just tired of listening to the Dalish argue back and forth about how this place was cursed. She understood their fears, but it was always the same argument. And, after a while of listening to Luan predict sickness and death for the Clan if they stayed, Kali was starting to get depressed.

But, she thought that saying something like that might sound rude.

With a sigh, she leaned back on her hands. "You know, I wish I had thought to ask Sylaise or Andruil how long we had to stay here. I like living here, but I wish I had thought to ask when we could go home."

Zevran climbed into the aravel and sat beside her. "Yes, that probably would have been helpful." Kali frowned, and the assassin was unable to keep a straight face. "Do not glare at me like that, mi querida! You are quite frightening when you're angry."

"You should be scared of me," Kali said teasingly, her gloomy mood lifting away. "Don't forget; you did teach me how to blend poisons."

"Ah, you know how much I love it when you threaten me." Zevran glanced outside the aravel. Their wagon, which had once been Merrill's, was set near the edge of the camp, away from prying eyes. "You know, I don't think anyone will miss us for an hour or so. Anyu is with the other children, and we are alone."

Kali, who knew that sly grin well, pretended to sigh. "What if I said I wasn't in the mood?"

Zevran laughed. "Now that sounds like a challenge, my dear."

Kali couldn't help but giggle as he twitched the flap shut and moved towards her.

oOo

Ashara felt like a child again as she took her first steps in the sacred city of Halamshiral. It was like being a little girl, sitting in front of Keeper Marethari as she told the mesmerizing stories of Arlathan.

Beside her, Tamlen stared around in awe, looking almost as entranced as she was. "Shiva'dahl! This place is amazing!"

"Do you think the two of you could please stop gawking like peasants newly come to a city?" Gavan grumbled irritably. "Don't forget, we're trying to remain inconspicuous."

"But this is Halamshiral!" Ashara practically sang the name. "The capital of the Dales! The place where our ancestors tried to rebuild Arlathan!"

"I wouldn't care if one of your Creators suddenly appeared right in front of us," Gavan said, earning a glare from Ashara. "Right now, anyone could figure out that you two don't belong here. So, just act like you aren't impressed by the city and follow me."

"He does have a point, vulpasha," Tamlen said.

Ashara put her hands on her hips, glaring at both men. "Do either of you have any sort of love for anything sacred?"

Gavan let out a bark of laughter. "I have a love for keeping myself alive."

Tamlen put a hand on her elbow and guided her after Gavan. Ashara allowed herself to be led like a sulky child, but she couldn't keep the scowl on her face as they followed Gavan down the winding paths of the city. They could make her follow, but they couldn't keep her from taking in the sights.

Really, how could she not stare around in awe? This was the place her ancestors built, the place where they collected the knowledge of Arlathan and shared stories of the Creators; the place where they had locked themselves away from shemlen and had tried to regain their eternal life. One of her grandmothers could have strolled along the path that Ashara was walking on! Over there, near that beautiful fountain, one of the hahren might have educated the da'len.

As Ashara looked around the city, her heart began to swell with emotion. Everything that they had done—hiking through Ferelden, avoiding anyone that might know them, sneaking across the border like thieves in the night—was worth it. All of that hard walking, barely eating, exhausting themselves to make good time, was worth it just to be here. Even abandoning her friends at Vigil's Keep was a payment worthy of seeing this sacred city. Ashara's only regret was that Anyu and Kali couldn't be here to share this moment with her and, for a moment, her elation dimmed.

Keeper Marethari had said that Halamshiral was rumored to be nothing but a pale ghost of its former beauty; that, when the Chantry swept through it, they had destroyed everything that the Elvhenan had built. Of course, no one had known for certain what Halamshiral still looked like, since none of the Dalish lived in Orlais. Why would they? Orlais was the country that had destroyed the Dales; its existence was a painful reminder of how the shemlen hated their very existence.

But, as Ashara looked around, she saw that the Keeper had been wrong; the humans hadn't destroyed everything. Perhaps they had taken down the statues of the Creators, as Ashara was certain that the Elvhenan would have made sure to honor them, but, other than that, the city looked as though it had been left intact.

To Ashara, it looked like one giant work of art. Even the smallest houses were made from some sort of white stone that somehow glittered in the sunlight; stunning inlays of ivory swirled around the base of the houses as if an architect had been determined to delight the eye. Everywhere Ashara looked, she saw gardens that looked as though they had been designed solely for beauty's purpose. She saw delightful lilies, dark velvety roses, and bright sunflowers. Thick rosemary bushes outlined some of the gardens; their deep scent drifted back to Ashara on the cool breeze. And, every fence and post was covered with dark green jasmine vines.

The whole place smelled fresh and alive, reminding Ashara of the pure fragrance of the Brecilian Forest, which had smelled of pine, juniper, and the deep earth.

"Look at that!" Tamlen suddenly gasped.

Ashara had been too enamored with the beautiful gardens as Gavan had led them down the winding paths of the city to pay much attention to much else, and had barely noticed that they were in what looked like the central market of Halamshiral, although it was far different from the market in Denerim. For one thing, the people crowded together weren't shouting at one another like they did in Ferelden. Their voices were raised, as merchants called out their wares to passersby, reminding them that good prices could be found at their stalls, but their speech was much softer than Ashara was used to. The soldiers walking around weren't laughing or yelling as they did in Denerim, but watched everything with such sharp eyes that Ashara was grateful Gavan had reminded them to hide their weapons.

The people even moved differently. In Ferelden, humans had a habit of clapping one another on the back in a familiar gesture, or slinging their arms around another's shoulders. Sometimes, they even pushed each other out of the way to get a better look at something. But, here, they stood apart from one another. No one jostled each other for a better view, or touched the arms of a stranger. They held a respectful distance from each other that should have been polite, but it gave Ashara a chill.

"Over there," Tamlen said, seeing that Ashara was staring at the central market. She followed the direction of his pointed finger to a large building set on the east side of the area, and her eyes widened.

The building was... beautiful seemed like too simple of a word. Dazzling? Magnificent? All of that and more. Ashara couldn't tell what it was made of; she had never seen stone that looked so glossy before. The stone was a creamy white, with specks and swirls of dark gray and black that looked as though it was actually part of the stone! A few elderly mages, dressed in full Circle robes, leaned against the pillars and talked calmly with one another, squinting their eyes against the late morning sun. Ashara couldn't believe their indifference. They were standing in front of one of the most beautiful buildings she had ever seen, yet they acted like they didn't even notice!

Gavan pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh upon seeing Ashara and Tamlen staring like wide-eyed da'len. "That's just the library."

"The library?" Ashara repeated, her smile widening.

"Yes, it's nothing special."

She whirled around to glare at the mercenary. " 'Nothing special'? Don't you know how long that library has probably been there? No shemlen could have created that! That must be the library our ancestors built when they tried to recreate Arlathan!" She clapped her hands together, unable to remain sulky in the face of such history. "Just imagine! We thought that the humans had destroyed Halamshiral, but they didn't! What if they kept ancient Elvhenan texts in there as well?"

She spun around and practically danced towards the library, but a hand slithered out to grab her, stopping her in her tracks. Twisting back, she saw Gavan holding tightly to her wrist, his expression one of frustration. "Oh no," he said firmly. "You're not running off to go in there."

Ashara put her free hand on her hip, lifting her chin haughtily. "And why not? Gavan, this is our history! You might not be Dalish, but your ancestors lived here, too! Don't you want to learn about our people?"

Tamlen moved beside Ashara and cleared his throat, the hint of a threat clear in his stance; Gavan took the hint and released his hold on her wrist. "Ashara," he said, still not taking his eyes from her, "this is Orlais, a country dominated by the Chantry. Andraste's ass, even the Divine lives here! Do you honestly think that that library will have information about the elves of the Dales?"

"It might!" She waved a hand around them. "Look at this place! The statues of the Creators might be gone, but the shemlen appear to have kept everything else intact! Look at that statue!" She pointed to a pillar that had the body of an elven mage carved into it. "We built that, not humans!"

"Keeping a city intact is far different from holding on to sacrilegious works about elven gods, or books on forbidden elven magic. I can almost guarantee that, after pillaging the Dales, the Chantry swept through and destroyed almost every book they found." Gavan crossed his arms. "And, even if they didn't, you risk exposing us. Only Senior Enchanters and nobles have access to the library. Elves, unless they have special permission, aren't allowed inside. If you sweep in there, demanding to see ancient elven texts, it won't take them long to figure out that you're a Dalish woman. At best, they'll figure out that you're the previous Warden-Commander and return you to Ferelden. At worst, they'll think you're just a flat ear disobeying the laws and you'll be imprisoned."

Ashara hesitated. What Gavan said was true—though she was reluctant to admit it—but even the possibility of learning about her ancestors was too much of a pull. What if Gavan was wrong? What if scholars, who understood the value of history, had kept the books about her ancestors? She couldn't turn her back on that, could she? Her entire life, before she had become a Warden, had been about discovering and restoring her people's history.

The Elvhenan had nothing. Only a few scattered stories about the Creators, a history soaked in blood and death, and enough of their language to string together a few sentences. They had endured a thousand years of slavery, the theft of their culture, and the imprisonment of their gods. All they wanted was to reclaim some of their history, the history that had been stolen when the shemlen had marched through their lands. How could Ashara turn her back on even a slight chance to learn something?

But, she hesitated. Keeper Marethari had told her that no history was worth one's own safety. Was it worth it to risk prison to learn something? The Keeper would have told Ashara to turn around and follow Gavan. Marethari would have said that their history wasn't worth Ashara putting herself at risk.

As if on cue, Tamlen put a gentle hand on her elbow. "Ashara, Gavan has a point. We can't risk someone discovering us; especially not before we meet with Leliana." And Arlathan Forest, his eyes said. But, they hadn't told Gavan about the second part of their journey.

With a sigh, she nodded. "Fine." She knew she sounded like a petulant child, but didn't care. "I'll leave the library alone, for now." Both men looked extremely relieved.

Trying to hide a triumphant smile, Gavan led them to an inn situated near the central market. It was a building that was just as beautiful as the others, with a small courtyard in the front that boasted a pretty garden and a small fountain that created a soothing atmosphere.

"This is much different from the inns in Ferelden," Tamlen remarked as they walked through the courtyard. "I thought all inns were loud and filthy."

Gavan chuckled. "Oh, you'll still find places like that in some of the other Orlesian cities. But, Halamshiral is a rich, scholarly city where a lot of the nobles have second homes. Even the Empress and the Divine sometimes visit."

"No doubt to look around smugly at the beauty their people stole," Ashara said bitterly.

Cleverly, the mercenary didn't comment, probably realizing that Ashara's sulky mood wouldn't be lifted any time soon. Instead, he led them inside the inn, which looked much more familiar to Ashara and Tamlen. The building might be stunning on the outside but, inside, it looked like any tavern one would find in Ferelden.

Gavan asked the two of them to wait while he approached the barkeep, and Ashara looked around the bar. Since it was late morning, the tavern was mostly empty, save for a few people here and there who were drinking ale; their eyes were red and they looked sluggish and slow. The tables and chairs looked as though they were made from birch; a good choice. The walls were in good condition, and there were colorful mats on parts of the floor but, aside from that, the place had almost no decoration. Ashara would have expected that the inside of such a beautiful building would be just as pretty.

Ashara's lip curled up into a sneer. Of course, the interior had probably been redecorated by shemlen. The humans clearly weren't as creative as her people.

Gavan soon came back and gestured that the two of them should follow him up the stairs towards the back. "I bought a room for us for a few days."

Tamlen's eyebrow rose. "We're to share a room? All three of us?" Among the Dalish, people often crowded together in one aravel, so that no one ever slept alone. But, it was usually understood that a bonded couple would want an aravel to themselves, for certain... activities that others couldn't be party to.

The mercenary laughed as he walked up the stairs. "Welcome to life as a regular traveler. We're using our own coin now, and I'm not about to waste mine on an extra room for the two of you."

Tamlen rolled his eyes and followed behind Gavan silently as the mercenary led them to the room they were going to share.

Ashara looked around curiously. Despite the plainness of the floor below, the room seemed to be quite snug and comfortable. There was a good sized fireplace set against the wall, a small table with some bowls and a jug of water, a large bed, a full sized table with a set of chairs, and a stuffed couch against the window.

Gavan flopped down on the couch, letting out a contented sigh as he sank against the cushions. "Get comfortable, you two. We might be here for a few days."

Tamlen set his pack down on a small table, unhooked his father's bow from where it was hidden beneath his cloak, and then tossed it and his cloak onto the bed. "Leliana isn't here yet?"

"No, not yet." Gavan straightened up. "Oh, and there's one more thing I should probably mention. While we're here in Orlais, don't call her by her name. From now on, refer to her as Sister Nightingale."

"Sister Nightingale?" Ashara repeated, unhooking her cloak and tossing it on the bed beside Tamlen's. She didn't bother to remove the knife hidden underneath her belt. "What does that mean?"

Gavan looked a bit shifty, and Ashara was instantly on the alert. "What is it, Gavan?"

The mercenary shrugged. "Eh, I suppose you'll figure it out eventually, if she doesn't tell you herself." He lifted his eyes and looked at the two of them. "Sister Nightingale is the Left Hand of the Divine."

The silence in the room was so heavy, Ashara could have cut it with a knife. Finally, Tamlen inhaled deeply, his eyes sharp and angry. "What did you just say?"

Gavan leaned back in the couch, completely unaffected by their glares. "Oh, stop staring at me as if I've just forced you to walk into the Void."

"But, you're telling us that Leliana works directly for the Divine!" Ashara exclaimed. "The Chantry has been asking about the Wardens! What if Leli—Sister Nightingale is coming to find answers for them?"

"Andraste's ass, even I'm not as suspicious as you two," Gavan remarked casually. "You have to understand that there are other things going on in Orlais. Your situation isn't the only problem in existence."

"What do you mean?" Tamlen asked.

"I mean, that Orlais has its own problems, and they don't necessarily include the Wardens. The Empress struggles to hold the reins of Orlais while still acknowledging the power of the Chantry, who seeks to keep balance in almost every country on Thedas. Is it so strange to think that Divine Justinia would have someone who could gather information in the shadows? Based on Sister Nightingale's past, I'd say she was perfect for the job."

Ashara frowned. "I don't understand. You said that she had been questioned by the Seekers about the Blight. Why would they question someone so important to the Divine?"

Gavan shook his head. "I said that Leliana had been questioned by the Seekers. No one knows who she really is. How could she hope to gather information if everyone knew she reported directly to the Divine?"

Ashara sat down on the bed, feeling somewhat lost in this sea of intrigue. It reminded her of her first time dealing with Fereldan politics back during the Blight, when Eamon had spoken to the nobles, convincing them why Alistair would make a good king. The Dalish didn't have such problems. There was a Keeper and a Chief who led the Clan, and the others who helped their kin. They didn't lie or play each other false.

"If she's supposed to keep her identity secret, why are you telling us?" Tamlen asked.

Gavan shrugged. "Because you would have found out when she came. I don't doubt that she'll travel under the guise of Sister Nightingale, and it's important that you not give away her true name."

"Yes, but you didn't have to tell us that Sister Nightingale reported directly to the Divine," Tamlen persisted.

The mercenary looked up at him with hard eyes. "Maybe it's because I know her. Whatever she does in the shadows, she's not going to betray someone she considers a friend. If you hadn't been so quick to suspicion, you might have remembered that. After all, she did put her life on the line to help you end the Blight."

Ashara thought for a moment. Once again, Gavan had a shrewd way of making sense. Would they be fools to trust him? Leliana trusted him and, during the Blight, Ashara would have trusted the bard with her life. But, that had been almost seven years ago. Had Leliana changed during that time?

"Very well," she said after a few minutes. "Gavan has a point. We at least owe Leliana the benefit of the doubt, after everything she's done for us. But," she continued, looking at the mercenary, "if she's not here within three days, we're going to have to leave Halamshiral."

"After all this?" Gavan demanded. "You'd just leave, without even speaking to her?"

"Traveling to Orlais is not our only task," Ashara said vaguely. "We have other places we need to be, and we can't wait for too long. We'll give Leli—Sister Nightingale three days, and then we have to continue." Tamlen nodded his assent, and Gavan shrugged as if he didn't feel like prying.

Ashara leaned back on her arms. Once again, she was grateful that Kali had taken Anyu to her Clan. Ashara missed them both terribly, but it was comforting to know that, at least with the Dalish, her daughter would be safe. No matter what happened, Anyu would be fine with them.

oOo

Nathaniel paced in front of the great desk, his agitation clear with every step. "I only bring this to your attention, Your Majesties, because I don't know how to respond."

Kira nodded, leaning over Alistair's shoulder to scan the letter in his hands. "I can easily see why this would put you in a difficult position, Nathaniel."

Alistair leaned back in his chair with his usual good humored chuckle. "Ashara and Kali haven't even been gone for two months and already the First Warden is making demands. You have to admire his dedication at least."

Nathaniel pursed his lips, pausing in his pacing. The three of them, along with Guinevere, were alone in Alistair's grand study, which afforded them more privacy than any other place in the castle. The room was on the second floor, and two guards were situated outside the door to prevent any nosy eavesdropper from listening to their conversation; they were as secluded as it was possible to be in the castle.

"When she was in command," Nathaniel said, "Ashara made it very clear that we wouldn't answer to the First Warden."

"Exactly!" Guinevere said staunchly. "I think we should be offended that he'd dare to write such a letter! Why should we tell him where our previous Commander and Second are? Does he think that, with Ashara and Kali out of the way, he can make demands of us again?"

"Have you learned anything more about their disappearance?" Kira asked.

Nathaniel shook his head. "The Dalish never heard from them. Keeper Rhys said that he sent a message to Keeper Marethari in Kirkwall, but she doesn't know either. If they didn't go to Ashara and Tamlen's Clan, then I don't know where they could be." He sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Half of the Wardens don't even know what really happened. We told them that Ashara and Kali went to Orzammar on behalf of the Wardens, and that Tamlen and Zevran went with them. We said they took Anyu because they don't know when they'll come back. I don't know if everyone believes it, but they seem to have accepted it."

Kira nodded. "It is better they believe that, rather than know the truth: that their Commander and Second abandoned them, whatever their reasons for doing so might be."

"Yes," Alistair agreed. "Morale is a powerful thing."

"Only the four of us and a handful of Wardens know the truth," Guinevere added. "We informed Oghren, Sigrun, Carver, and Keiran of the real situation. They were closest to the four of them, and Nathaniel thought that they had a right to know. Besides, we needed someone else to confirm our story."

"How are they handling the news?" Alistair asked.

"Better than you might imagine," Nathaniel said. Despite the seriousness of the situation, he grinned. "Oghren said they should be easy to find; between Tamlen and Zevran, they're sure to leave behind a trail of blood."

"Keiran is of the opinion that we should leave them alone," Guinevere remarked. "He believes that they must have had a reason for their disappearance, and that searching for them might put them in danger."

Alistair shook his head. "We aren't searching for them anymore, Gwen."

The mage turned a surprised look in his direction. "Really? I thought you had sent out a number of soldiers to look for them."

"We did at first," Kira admitted, "but we cannot spare men for too long, and we were forced to call them back. They are needed here." She hesitated. "We had considered writing to Empress Celene, my cousin, to ask if she has heard anything, but we do not want this information to leak out."

Nathaniel nodded. "I agree. We've been acting as though everything is fine; so far, the Wardens seem to have accepted our story."

Kira put her hands on the back of Alistair's chair. "I believe the elves have as well. Alistair and I have specified that we do not know Warden secrets any longer, and that, if we had to guess, we would assume that Ashara and Kali had most likely been sent on a mission. Shianni rang quite the storm over our heads." She couldn't help but wince at the memory of the fiery redhead's indignation. "She wanted to know why her cousin had not bothered to inform her that she was leaving, but I merely repeated what I had told everyone else: that I did not know."

Nathaniel took the letter from Alistair and waved it. "So, what are we to tell the First Warden? Should I write and tell him the same story we've told everyone else?" Although Alistair and Kira had proclaimed publicly that they were no longer privy to Warden secrets, in truth, they frequently offered their opinions or suggestions on delicate matters. Ashara had been in the habit of asking for their advice, and Nathaniel seemed inclined to continue the tradition.

"Why should we tell him anything?" Guinevere demanded. "Ashara and Kali's disappearance doesn't change the fact that we're not about to be ruled by some fat idiot in Weisshaupt. If we answer him now, we'll never be rid of him."

"Gwen does have a point," Alistair said with a hint of laughter. "Though, you might want to be a bit more tactful when you reply."

Nathaniel inclined his head. "Very well, I'll inform him that we still don't answer to him."

He hesitated, looking around at the three of them. "But, you know this won't go away, right? Someone told him that Ashara and Kali are gone, which means that he has someone in our midst that reports to him. Even if I tell him that we don't answer to him, his spy might still report our claim that they went to Orzammar. If he decides to investigate, it'll be easy for him to discover that we're lying."

Kira pressed her lips together in a frown. "At least this letter will buy us some time. Hopefully, we can find a way to prevent him from discovering the truth."

The three of them nodded at her words, but they looked almost as doubtful as Kira felt.

Translations:
lath'en - beautiful
hahren - elder; a term of respect
Aneth ara - informal greeting
da'len - child/children
ma nuvenin - as you wish
lethallan - friend/kinsman; used for female
shiva'dahl - an exclamation of surprise; comparable to 'Dear Maker!'

A/N: It's been over a month since I updated, and I'm terribly sorry for that. I got a bit distracted with art. This chapter was supposed to be just about Kali adjusting to life with the Dalish, but since I made everyone wait for so long, I thought we should move the story along a bit. Also, I know that the halla are supposed to be gone by the start of DA2, and I've intentionally kept them alive b/c their death will be an important moment in this story.

I looked around the DA wiki for any information I could find on Halamshiral, but there wasn't much there, so I have no idea if what Ashara sees is canon or not. I like to think that Orlais, a country that loves beauty, would have kept Halamshiral as intact as possible. The elves had tried to make it into a second Arlathan, a city reputed to be dazzling and mysterious, and had about three centuries to do so. Because of that, I like to think that Halamshiral is a lavish, scholarly city.

The Ghilan'nain myth is taken from the DA wiki, although I did take a little bit of liberty with it.

Thank you to everyone reading, reviewing, or requesting alerts! Special thanks to the amazingly talented Suilven, for her help and suggestions that, as always, made this chapter flow much better!