Chapter One Hundred Eighty-Eight: No Place Like Home
We spent a day shopping for supplies for the Peak -- Levi had sent me a list -- and for provisions for Larus and Arathea. Neither had much for clothing or personal items, so while Alistair took Larus to get some proper, warm, Fereldan menswear, I took Arathea to buy her dresses, pants, sleepwear, and warm outer wear.
I slipped in a few luxury items as well -- nice-smelling soaps, a few cosmetics, some lacy underwear -- mostly because it was fun to watch her lose her mind. She was a lovely companion, really, sweet and kind, and yet somehow she came across as completely sheltered and naΓ―ve. As a slave she'd never had anything she could call her own, and while she was clearly enchanted by the things we found, she had a strong sense of unworthiness left over from her life as a slave, feeling guilty about what I was spending for her.
I talked her into some of it by convincing her it was really for Larus. "Just imagine the look on his face when he sees you in this," I giggled, adding some lingerie to the pile in a clothing shop where I'd insisted on buying her at least one fancy dress. The gown didn't quite fit perfectly, and we didn't have time to have it altered, but Arathea assured me she could sew reasonably well and would be able to make the adjustments herself.
The store's proprietor looked scandalised that I was buying such things for an elf, but she looked at me -- and everyone always insisted no one would mistake me for a peasant, so she must have caught on that I was a noble -- and then Avanna, clearly standing guard and looking irritable, and kept her opinions to herself. She did almost choke when Arathea called me by my first name; it had taken me all morning to get her to stop calling me 'mistress' but it was worth it to watch the shopkeeper's eyes almost pop right out of her head.
I also bought some extra bags, so we could repack most of our things onto the horses, and the dreaded cart we'd had to drag along on our trip to Highever could follow behind at its own pace. When I mentioned this, Arathea squeaked --
adorable!
-- and gasped, "I can't ride a horse!"
I wasn't shocked. "No worries. I couldn't either until recently. Does Larus ride?" She nodded, and I smirked. "I have to say, you're going to enjoy this trip, then."
Highever was abuzz with the news from Kirkwall; it seemed nearly everyone had a relative or friend over there and the varying claims about what had happened to Knight-Commander Meredith were as fantastic as they were anatomically impossible. I briefly wondered if Zevran could find more sending stones so that we could insist Cailan and Fergus each carry one, but for now I knew it would have to wait until one or both of them returned.
Arathea and I also stopped briefly at the Alienage; she was greeted like a long-lost friend, and was soon dancing in a circle with a group of little girls, laughing and giggling as she played. I stood with the Hahren, watching her with a broad smile.
"You're taking her away from us," the Hahren chided.
I nodded. "Well, not me. Her..." I trailed off, uncertain what term to use that wouldn't seem out of place in Ferelden.
"Lover?" he suggested with a smirk.
I laughed. "Sure, let's go with that. Anyway, he's needed at the Peak, and he'll be safer there. And so will she; I don't tolerate abuse among my people."
The Hahren nodded. "So I've heard." He turned to watch Arathea toss a small, shrieking child into the air with a laugh. "So what can I do for you? Not that I'd mind, but it would surprise me if you were here for a purely social visit."
I chuckled. "Well, yes. Sorry. I'm actually here on behalf of the Wardens. As you may know, my husband is the Warden Commander of Ferelden." He nodded. "We just wanted to extend an invitation to anyone from the Alienage who might want to become a Grey Warden. Obviously we're looking for people who can fight, not just random people, but we don't discriminate against elves. In fact, we were hoping to specifically recruit some, because we want the Wardens here to represent all Fereldans, not just the humans. We have very few elves."
He hummed softly. "It's a dangerous life, your Highness. I'm not certain I want to send any of my young people off to be killed by darkspawn."
"I can understand that, and I respect it. But I imagine that, like everywhere, there are people here who are unhappy with their settled lives. They wish they could do something else. We are one of the few places where elves are treated as equals, and while fighting darkspawn is dangerous, at least they won't face discrimination or assault by humans who refuse to see them as people. And, just as a reminder, we don't pry into the past lives of our recruits, as long as they are willing to fully commit to the Wardens." He raised an eyebrow at me, and I cleared my throat. "Just sayin'."
We didn't stay long in the Alienage, but it was easy to see Arathea was sad to be leaving. She was quiet all the way back to the castle.
The evening at the castle was quiet. We spoke to Aedan and Zevran -- apparently the unlikely rumours about events in Kirkwall had reached them as well, but they had no more concrete information about what had really happened than we did. I asked Zevran about getting more sending stones, and he outright laughed at me, to my disappointment. Despite going to bed early, the morning came too soon. I groaned as we crawled out of bed and into armour, packing the last of our things and leaving a brief 'thank you' note for Fergus with his seneschal. Getting everything onto horses took way more work than it should have, and in the end, we borrowed several horses from Fergus' stables: two for Larus and Arathea, and a few more to carry all of our bags.
We're going to have to send a caravan just to return Fergus' horses.
I was seriously considering looking for opportunities to invest in horse breeding.
Saying goodbye to Prince was one of the more difficult things I'd done. We had debated bringing him back to the Peak with us, but he was nearly despondent and I wasn't honestly sure he would come. In addition, Highever had kennels where he could stay and be sociable with other mabari, rather than cooped up inside all day with me at the Peak. That said, when he realised we were leaving without him, the howling left me broken-hearted, and the kennel master had to come and drag him away.