There And Back Again Ch 164

Chapter One Hundred Sixty-Four: Being Left Behind

The time seemed to pass faster after Aedan left - or perhaps it was just not jumping from crisis to crisis every moment. I did paperwork, sparred, read dry political treatises, got to know my staff and my soldiers as individuals, hired a variety of family members of current staff to round out our numbers, made decisions on what parts of the Keep to renovate next and how much of our significant but not unlimited budget to spend on it.

I spent time with Nathaniel; he quizzed me, on everything from Fereldan politics to soldier training to etiquette to international trade, and was less unhappy with my progress in becoming a 'better noble' than I was. He gave me a list of books - the ones I should work through next - and instructions as to how to order them from a merchant in Amaranthine.

He'd had some letters from Leliana - more than my one, which I teased him about - and she'd told him that she was going to be delayed returning, but was still promising to come back.

I wonder what she's really up to.

Nathaniel tried hard to hide his increasing skepticism, but it wasn't exactly surprising he was worried.

"She loves you, Nate."

He nodded. "I know. But sometimes that's not enough." He shook his head, almost reminding me of a mabari more than anything. "It's fine. I've made arrangements for Delilah to be recognised as my heir, and her children after her. I will wait forever, if I must." I hugged him, knowing nothing I could say was going to help.

"How's Thomas?" I was almost afraid to ask.

"No improvement," he reported. "Still like a large, simple child. Actually, he may be getting worse? He needs more help with daily activities, like eating and dressing, than he did. I'd rather hoped to have Anders look at him again some day, but that seems unlikely if he's in Kirkwall."

Nate stayed a few days, but the loneliness I could see on his face was there the entire time. Alistair and I - and the Wardens - did our best to keep him entertained, but he almost looked to be relieved to be leaving. I hugged him again, and he turned to lead his guard out through the tunnels, some of my soldiers accompanying them to guide and to help with the horses in the steep, narrow parts.

Some day I'll have them mine out a proper tunnel to get in here. If that doesn't completely thwart Zevran's attempts at increasing security, I guess.

I got the chance to talk with Felsi, finally, and was immediately impressed by her down-to-earth nature, and by how well she managed Oghren. We talked frankly about my hopes for the tavern, and she seemed to be onboard with what I had in mind - eventually there would be inn rooms and entertainers, in addition to the bar itself, and her ideas for managing it seemed sensible. She politely declined a room in the Keep - even when Oghren tried to suggest they would share a room - and had me in stitches when she explained why.

"No. Thank you, but I'll be staying in my own room. Oghren can stay with me occasionally if he wishes. I've been self-sufficient since I came to the surface, and I don't intend to stop now. Besides, have you met Oghren? If I stay with him, where am I supposed to go when we fight? I'll not be left without accomodations because he's being a sodding ass - or accidentally murder him because we don't have our own space." I laughed, and she smirked, but turned serious after a moment. "I just want to be sure - is my employment here dependent on my relationship with him?"

"No! No. Maker, I wouldn't make anyone but him responsible for his actions." We both laughed. "I can understand that it might be awkward, if something happens, but we can work around it."

"If it's possible, I'd like to have my own room in the tavern. There's a small third floor - I think probably intended as storage, but we won't need it for that. It's just big enough for a couple of rooms. Oghren could keep his room up at the Keep with the Wardens. Would that be permissible? Keeps me close to my work, but gives both Oghren and I space if we need it."

I smiled at Felsi as her face softened when she talked about the berserker. "I think you have an admirable grasp of the situation. I suspect he's not an easy man to live with."

She sighed ruefully. "Aye, well, he isn't an easy one to just live without, either." I smirked, and she blushed. "Mind, don't you go telling him I said that! Nug-humper doesn't need a bigger head than he's already got."

I laughed, while she turned away, fussing with her hair to give herself a chance to let the blush drop. Finally, she sat back and shook her head. "I must be losing my mind."

"I think that's called pragmatism, not insanity." I grinned. "But yes, the third floor of the tavern is yours, if you'd like."

We talked a bit more about the construction, and what it would take to have the bar open and running for the soldiers - she felt she could open in a limited fashion basically immediately, after all the preparations she and Levi had made for my birthday party. She had connections to bring in a variety of alcohol from all over Thedas - and plans to build a still in the tavern itself to make her own home-brew. Impressed with her organisation and practicality, I gave her the go ahead and asked Levi to help her get whatever she needed to get things running.

Oghren, when I spoke to him later, was somewhat offended - but not really that upset. He wasn't so articulate, of course, but I assumed that after everything with Branka - and then living alone and doing as he liked for so long - that he didn't mind having some of his own space. Though I definitely got the impression he'd spend more nights in Felsi's room than his own, for one major reason if nothing else: it was closer to the tavern.

I spent hours and hours with Levi, going over our books, our budget, the tithes that Cailan had pledged us for the Wardens, and our future plans. It would likely take a year to have the Peak fully staffed, the training programs for the troops - and the visiting soldiers and possibly templars - up and running, and the entire place renovated, but it was going to be magnificent when it was done.

The Keep itself was a rather intimidating place, but with Levi's help, it had been softened, inside at least, with tasteful rugs and tapestries to break up the stone monotony of the place, constantly burning hearths to keep the chill away, and torches and arcane lamps everywhere to banish dark corners - during the day, anyway. Everyone was treated well, so far, and there had been few disputes, none of which Levi had needed my help to manage.

We had miners on the way - some surface cast dwarves we'd connected with through Sereda; the taxes on the tavern and Mikhael's smithy, the support from the Crown, and my income from the bola launchers, meant our budget was more than sufficient for what we needed to get done. Levi had made agreements with various farmers and merchants that he'd known from his time as a trader, and we had plenty of materials flowing in to support our population - and our growth.

"Are you happy here, doing this?" I asked him, one day after we'd finished going through the paperwork he'd brought me.

He didn't stop to consider, just smiled. "Yes, I am. I have a home - for myself, and my extended family - and a rewarding job that I don't have to travel constantly for. My employer is unusual," he grinned at me, "but fair, and it helps me reclaim some of my family's good name. It's more than I expected, and I am grateful."

I assured him I didn't need his gratitude. "You've done an incredible amount of work getting the Peak ready and making it run. I couldn't have done this without you. I'm just glad you're staying!"

I chatted with Faren, slowly forging a new friendship with the dwarf. He continued to have dreams that gave him pieces of his past year, but pieces didn't equal resuming relationships as though nothing had ever happened. And my ongoing guilt didn't help - I still drove him crazy with apologies and trying to be overly solicitous. Our conversations tended to be stilted, which made my heart ache when I considered the easy camaraderie we'd shared before.

It's my fault he lost a year of his life - a somewhat awkward relationship is the least I deserve.

He continued to improve though, to the point that he could walk unaided around the Keep, and even begin sparring. Watching him fight with Sigrun - who was still a blushing mess half the time in between coddling him excessively - had me laughing until I felt sick.

I talked with Wynne; she'd agreed to stay until the golems returned from the Deep Roads, and she spent most of her time in the library, though we did call on her to heal a few injuries when soldiers got too enthusiastic with their training. She stayed away from Jowan, which was probably a good thing, I thought.

I told her about my miscarriage, and she held me while I cried on her shoulder. She told me a bit about when she'd been pregnant with Rhys and then had to give him up. And she confirmed - in confidence - that Greagoir had been the father.

"He wasn't always like he is now," she insisted. "He was young and handsome, and idealistic. He thought he could protect mages and help people. He wanted to save the world. That's very attractive when you're young and your social circle is limited to people you grew up with."

"I can see that. Sad to see what time did to him."

"Well, with Rhys...he didn't want to let him go any more than I did, but he also had to act like he didn't care so no one would guess the baby was his. And his Commander guessed anyway - he couldn't do anything official without proof, but he made Greagoir's life difficult for a while. And then there was a crackdown in all the Circles after whatever happened at Kinloch twenty-five years ago with Enchanter Remille, and the subsequent unrest, then more recently Anders, then Jowan, Uldred...it hasn't been an easy time to be a templar, really."

"Anything that forced someone to work with Elemena would have been frustrating, I imagine."

Wynne tsk'd me, but I could see the flash of humour in her eyes.

"And now?" I asked, curious - I had seen very minimal interaction between the two former lovers, but Wynne certainly hadn't seemed impressed at the Circle when we'd rescued Anders.

"We grew apart long ago. We remain cordial, but..." She sighed. "I am loyal to the Circle - I think it is necessary - but I allowed things to happen under my watch, under his orders...I can't deny I disagree with some of the decisions he's made over the years. I understand why, but there were other paths he could have taken. And that doesn't make for an easy relationship."

"And..Dougal?" I had to admit to honest curiosity - I'd never ended up having a discussion about the grizzled Grey Warden with her, and while initially shocked, the idea that Wynne had some companionship, someone to talk to - even if by letter - made me happy.

No one should have to be alone.

Wynne actually blushed, and it was possibly the cutest thing I'd seen. I opened my mouth to tease her about where babies come from, but she held up a hand before I could say anything. "Don't even think about it, young lady." I giggled, and she smiled at me fondly. "Dougal is a lovely person. We share many things in common. And we're both too old for that romantic 'happily ever after' nonsense. We enjoy our time together, and that's all I will say."

"Oh, Wynne," I rested my head on her shoulder and fluttered my eyelashes up at her, and she rolled her eyes in response, "no one is too old for romantic nonsense. But what I want to know is, does he stare at your hindquarters? Your swaying hips? Is he...enraptured?"

She snorted in a most unladylike fashion and it started me giggling. "Yes, yes, I probably deserved that. But I'm just going to say this once - try to embarrass me by asking how he is in bed, and I will answer the question. At length. Perhaps with pictures. Keep that in mind."

I guffawed, and Wynne smirked and sat back while I collected myself again. "As long as you're happy, Wynne."

She looked smug, and nodded at me. "I am content. And very happy to be seeing you again, my dear."

I got lots of mom hugs - for which Alistair teased me, but I noticed he didn't push her away either, even when she mussed his hair.

I wrote a lot of letters - to Grand Cleric Dorothea, requesting help in finding an appropriate Mother to come and minister to the Andrastians at the Peak; I wrote to Leliana, enclosing the letter in the package to the Grand Cleric with hopes that she could forward it on. I sent reports on our progress and numbers to both Cailan and Fergus, as well as a more personal letter to Cailan just to check in. I wrote to Solona and Anders - they hadn't been gone long, but I couldn't help but worry about them, and writing gave me something to do instead of just wringing my hands and feeling anxious.

I spoke to Aedan every day - usually in the evening, after he had made camp for the night. Alistair and I would hold hands and listen as he described miles of long-abandoned tunnels, cave-ins, spiders, deep stalkers, fluorescent fungi, glowing Lyrium deposits that left the Templars nauseous and trembling, but few darkspawn. They'd managed to collect the darkspawn blood they required pretty quickly, but Aedan wanted to wait until they returned to do the Joining - though he had taken supplies with him in case someone got tainted.

After two weeks of constant walking, they had yet to reach any recognisable part of the Deep Roads, despite Caridin's experience and all the maps they'd copied from the Legion and the Shaperate. Aedan was hoping there was a chance of a tunnel leading to Orzammar - or even Bownammar, or anywhere else familiar - and, with Lana, was developing detailed maps of what they'd found so far. He resolved to spend as much time as they could based on their supplies before returning.

I missed my brother - and Zevran, more than I expected - but having the sending stones made all the difference. I didn't wake constantly with nightmares of them being killed and no one ever finding out what happened. I was able to reassure myself daily that he was still alive - still safe, for a little longer.

And of course I spent time with my husband. While we'd mostly settled into a normal working schedule - and both of us had work that had to be done virtually every day - we still managed to carve out time for ourselves nearly every evening after supper with our friends. We read together, just relaxing in front of the hearth; we played cards, both Earth and Thedas games; we talked for hours, about our pasts, our hopes, and our dreams. And we made love. Often.

It surprised me how rarely I missed - or even thought about - Earth. I missed easy access to books, and sometimes wished for access to the internet, but television, social media, and the loneliness of my old life barely registered a thought. I wondered how my body was doing - but in the end, didn't even really care, as long as I was able to stay in Thedas.

One of the hardest things I did was to overcome my revulsion - and my fear - and force myself to start talking to Justice. It hadn't gotten any less creepy to hear the spirit's voice out of the elf's mouth, and Justice frequently continued to be oblivious to the social graces that would make him less intimidating - he tended to remain standing, even when it meant looming over someone with whom he spoke; he sometimes stepped too close to people, infringing on their personal space; his voice was too loud, and he rarely remembered to modulate it - and all of that meant that, for the most part, people avoided him. I worried about whether that would trigger resentment -

do spirits get lonely?

- and did my best to pull him out of his isolation.

I had hopes that Wynne would take an interest in the spirit - or at least the elf the spirit was possessing - but to my surprise, she was horrified, and refused to even talk to him. Her recommendation was to kill Justice, even if it meant the death of Vander, and return the spirit to the Fade - even more so if the spirit itself was reluctant to go.

"If it were a spirit, my dear, it would be happy to leave its host and return to the Fade. Faith remains with me only because I wouldn't survive without it. What you have there is a demon, Sierra. Don't ask me to make small talk with it."

"But Wynne, can you even be sure that Justice would be able to return to the Fade if Vander died? That's what he's worried about - we may end up killing both of them, rather than returning the spirit to the Fade. Can you blame him for wanting to remain?"

Nothing I could say would sway her; we ended up agreeing not to talk about it anymore, but I had to admit I was disappointed.

I had resolved - after the near-disaster with Rolan - never to try avoiding awkward situations again, regardless of how uncomfortable it made me feel, so I closed my eyes, took a calming breath, and then invited the spirit to come to the library where I would attempt to teach him to read. I found empty notebooks for him to practice writing in, and ordered a few children's books to read. And while I was at it, I ordered some volumes of Thedosian fairy tales - hoping to find some stories with morals that might help Justice see a situation from both sides, to try to reason his way past his initial righteous fury in the face of any injustice.

But we did spend quite a bit of time in discussion, often about ethics and the concept of justice.

"Say you are a farmer, and after a year of working on the farm, sowing seeds and harvesting, someone came along and stole your crops before you could take them to the market." I kept inventing scenarios to challenge him.

"That is unjust!" he boomed. "The thief must be punished."

"All right," I agreed, "so there's several parts to this. Let's say the thief already sold the goods and spent the money before being caught. The farmer's family, unable to afford the supplies he needs for the winter, may well starve. What should the thief's punishment be? Is death the appropriate punishment? It would certainly deter future thieves, and a death makes up for a death, yes? It's only fair that the thief dies, since he indirectly killed the farmer. He's a murderer as well as a thief."

The spirit nodded uncertainly, clearly uncomfortable with the idea but unable to articulate a specific complaint. "That sounds correct, but..."

I plowed on. "So what about the thief's family?"

Justice blinked. "What about them?"

"Well, why do you think he was stealing? He had lost his livelihood in a flood, and couldn't afford to feed his family. They were about to starve, so he stole the farmer's crops. What will happen to them now that you have executed him?"

"You didn't say that he..."

"And you didn't ask." I shrugged. "Does it matter? The farmer's family still starved to death. Don't his children deserve justice?"

"But..." He sat there, expression bewildered.

"So should we let the thief's family just starve to death? That seems cruel. Especially the children - starving is very painful. Maybe we should execute them as well, save them the suffering."

"But I..." he trailed off.

I sat quietly for a few minutes, watching him think.

"Or what if it was the army?"

"Pardon?"

"Maybe it was the army who took the farmer's produce. Without it, the soldiers who were defending against the darkspawn would have starved. Many people survived that wouldn't have if the soldiers hadn't taken the harvest."

"A ruler must have the ability to requisition aid and supplies for the army in the case of emergency. This makes sense, but the army should pay for what they take." He nodded, feeling more firmly grounded with this scenario.