Aedan Of Highever

by Milton Garby

  "What can I say? It's a talent. Now, about my troops."

  "My generals are already preparing for a mission to the surface. When you have need of us, you will have very able-bodied dwarf ready to combat the Blight. And since you did more than I expected, please let me offer you're a personal reward as well. This was a maul favored by my brother, Trian. May it serve you well."

  "Very well. Then my business here is done and I can return to my mission. Good luck with the kingdom, King Bhelen."

  "And luck be to you, Warden. May we both crush our enemies."

  Aedan walked out of the palace with the hammer in hand. It was truly a masterful piece of craftsmanship. The hammer head was a giant diamond set atop a silverite shaft and hard enough to crush skulls and armor. He exited the palace and tossed it to Zevran.

  "Get what you can out of that. It belonged to Prince Trian, so that should add to its value."

  "Don't worry, dear Warden, I can charm chastity from a grand cleric if I want to."

  "I don't need some old crone's nookie, Zevran. I need coin. Get all you can from that thing."

  Aedan turned around and was surprised to see Commander Kardol standing before him.

  "You are Stone-Carved, Warden. I've never seen the like." He congratulated. "If I heard it second hand I'd have called it a sodding lie. Warden, we've got a king 'cause of you. There rest is impressive, but the Legion thanks for our renewed leadership, it frees us to fight the darkspawn properly."

  "Can I count on your support against the Blight?"

  "Nay, our place is down here. You'll have our aid indirectly."

  "Kardol, I think it's time that we showed the world what the likes of Ash Warriors and Legionnaires of The Dead are truly capable of. I would honored for you to fight at our side."

  "You alone have the strength to back up your words, Warden. Back to Orzammar when we win, though. I'm not staying topside long enough to lose my Stone-Sense."

  "You have my thanks, Commander."

  "Warden. Perhaps my men can show you our gratitude. I see you and I are both fond of marking our skin. Perhaps my men can give you the Mark of the Legion. From one death seeking warrior to another?"

  "I would be honored to bare the Mark of The Legion."

  Aedan received the Legion of The Dead's mark over his right hand. For any surfacer to wear such a mark was a tremendous honor, one Aedan would wear proudly.

  Morrigan sat by herself in the Market District, waiting for the others. She was still pining over Aedan's foolishness in destroying the Anvil. How could he be so thoughtless? Was the potential of what the Anvil could so frightening that he destroyed simply because the two Paragons had conflicting interests? Men always complicated things, made the world so much harder than it needed to be.

  She watched from afar as Aedan gave that girl, the naïve bard, a nug for a pet. Morrigan recalled that those creatures had all been put to death in Kirkwall because it was believed that those oversized cave-rats carried the Blight. Morrigan couldn't fathom having one for a pet, yet Leliana squeeled in delight and held the thing to her as if it were some precious treasure. How could Aedan constantly be going over to that girl, when he had her? She couldn't understand this need he had to always please everyone in his company as if their needs were relevant to his task.

  Morrigan noticed Aedan walking up to her, a parcel in hand.

  "Here, Morrigan. I found this for you."

  Morrigan took the package from his hand and carefully opened it. What was this? A mirror? Morrigan couldn't believe her eyes. It was a golden mirror encrusted with multi-colored gems, and mirror shined like the surface of water. She felt her heart overflow with nostalgia and…joy. Like being reunited with a long lost friend. She fought her hardest to keep herself from shedding tears "Tis…just the same as the mirror which Flemeth smashed on the ground…so long ago. It's incredible that you found one so like it. You…you must wish something in return, certainly."

  "What? No. This is a gift, Morrigan. I want you to have this because I thought you'd love it."

  "I am…uncertain what to say. I have never received….a gift. Not one that didn't also have a price attached." Morrigan looked at Aedan and smiled with genuine happiness. "Perhaps there's a price to be paid yet. If so 'tis well deserved. Thank you. Truly."

  Aedan placed his hand on her cheek and brought her into a soft, loving kiss. "All I want, Morrigan, is for you to always smile for me."

  Morrigan placed her hand on top of his. "Only for you."

  Aedan went back to making preparations for their departure, while Morrigan continued to marvel at the mirror. All the disdain and dissatisfaction she had for him a few minutes ago was completely gone. She hugged the mirror to her chest just like she did when she was a child, and for the first time since then, felt nothing but utter joy well up inside her.

  As Aedan finished preparing to return to the surface he was surprised when the redheaded dwarf, Dagna, ran up and hugged him.

  "Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She squealed. "The Circle contacted me with a letter and told me that they've accepted me for study! They've even set up a room for me with the Tranquil! The First Enchanter said I have you to thank. I have to go now, I hope to see you at the Circle one day."

  With the very enthusiastic dwarf scurried towards to surface Aedan noticed Oghren approaching him. Aedan knew it was him by the signature stench that emitted from the dwarf. The now widowed warrior walked up to him tentatively. "So, hey, Warden. I was thinking, we did some pretty good work down in the Deep Roads. I mean, the both of us were sodding killing machines down there."

  Aedan looked down at him trying to ignore the stench. "Yeah, I hate to admit it, Oghren. But what you lack in sobriety, manners, decency, dignity, cleanliness and self-respect, you quickly make up for in remarkable fighting prowess."

  "Well, thanks for noticin'. So I was thinking, there's nothing keeping me here and while I was with you I felt like an actual warrior for the first time in a long time. So if you've got room for a nug-licking assassin, a whiny Templar and walking, talking quarry of a golem, maybe you've got room for a drunk?"

  "If you can lay waste to darkspawn down here in the Deep Roads, Oghren, I'd love to see what you can do to them on the surface. Welcome aboard."

  "Well, smack my ass and call me sally! I'm in! Let's get moving."

  As they left through the Hall of Heroes, every dwarven warrior and guard saluted them in respect for what that had done. They even managed to show respect to Oghren. They had accomplished what they set out to do and got the dwarven armies to come to their aid, but at what cost? Aedan couldn't help but dread at the thought of what Loghain and the darkspawn had been doing to his country while he was playing errand boy for the dwarves. He had to get back a soon as possible and complete his task, before there nothing left of his country to protect. But getting back to the lowlands might take longer than Aedan wanted. He could feel a powerful storm coming.

  Shelter in The Frostbacks

  The further they went down from Gherlen's Pass the more fearsome the snow storm became. It came so quickly and from out of nowhere, like someone kept the storm in a box and decided to let it go. The howling winds whipped their faces and the stinging snow was almost blinding. They had to practically force themselves forward to fight back against the pushing force of the wind that tried to throw them back.

  "We should double back to Orzammar!" Alistair called trying to get his voice over the wind.

  "It's too late. Before we could even reach the gates the storm will catch up and swallow us." Aedan answered.

  "Well, we can't stay out in this." Said Leliana. "This storm is getting worse! Wynne is too old to be in weather like this and Shale could fall into a snow pit or off the mountain. We need to find shelter."

  Aedan though for a moment. He'd be damned if het let everything they've accomplished this far be for nothing because they died in a snowstorm. Then it hit Aedan. There was a way out of the storm. Perhaps. "Everyone, listen. I th
ink I know of a place we can get shelter. But it'll be dangerous."

  "More dangerous than being out here?" Zevran asked sarcastically.

  "Well, we'll either find shelter from the storm, or a shortcut to an early and shallow grave." Aedan answered very seriously. "It will depend if anything's changed since I was last there."

  XoXoXo

  Aedan led them from Gherlen's Pass and through a hidden path in the mountain's canyons. The walls of the canyon and the trees in its valley offered them protection from the storming winds and harsh snowfall. Their pace became slow as they tried to tromp through the deep snow and once Shale actually fell into a hole covered by the snow and they spent the better half of an hour trying to yank her out. When they finally did, they found themselves exhausted, and underneath the canopy of the trees.

  Aedan noticed something that instantly caught his attention and raised his alarm. A single golden eagle flying through the canyon, circling around them and finally perching atop a tree, looking down upon the group of intruders. This raptor was enormous, its wingspan was easily eight feet across and its talons were large and powerful enough it could carry off Oghren in full armor if it wanted to. Aedan stared at the lonesome bird, that just so happened to be out flying in the middle of a horrible storm, and it stared right back at him. Its eyes seemed somehow...familiar. The eagle raised its head and gave a loud, powerful cry that resonated off the walls and echoed throughout the canyon. Aedan realized too late….

  "No. One. Move." Aedan ordered. The Warden stepped forward and raised his axe above his head in both hands, as if he were surrendering to some unseen foe.

  This was unsettling. What could be out there that would make Aedan, of all people, surrender before fighting?

  "Aedan, what's going on?" Alistair asked.

  "DON'T! Make any sudden movements."

  No one moved. They watched Aedan stand in the snow, his axe still raised. Who was out there?

  Aedan called out to the trees in some unknown language, his voice resonating throughout the canyon. What was he saying? Who was he talking to?

  A group of people, apparently the ones Aedan was speaking to, emerged from the trees, out from the snow and even the very shadows! They were all massive men wearing chainmail armor and thick furs with the animal heads hooding them, armed with massive mauls, axes spears and bows, all pointed on them. The arrows they were using were so large they could have easily been mistaken for javelins. The giant golden eagle flew down and perched itself on one of hunters' shoulders.

  "You see, Aedan?" Alistair asked glibly. "This is why swooping is bad. You know who these men are?"

  "They're Avvar." Aedan answered grimly.

  Everyone paused at Aedan's answer. The Avvar were practically legendary for their dislike of the lowlanders and Andrastians, and they were equally famous for their cruelty towards their enemies. Suddenly, dying in the snow didn't seem so bad.

  "What do they want?" Wynne questioned.

  "They want us to go with them. They're going to take us to their keep, Bear-Hold." Aedan answered.

  "And should we choose not to follow them?" Sten asked.

  "They're not giving us a choice, Sten. We're a group of heavily armed outsiders who look like we just walked off a traveling freakshow, and we're trespassing on their land."

  "Are they're here to help us?" Leliana inquired.

  "Maybe they'll give us shelter or maybe they'll slaughter us and feed our bodies to their sacred animals."

  "But, uh, I believe I once heard it said that you were on friendly terms with the Avvar." Zevran pointed out. "Surely they'd lend a helping hand to an old friend?"

  "That was a few years ago, Zevran. Things might have changed since then. We can either take our chances with the Avvar and go to Bear-Hold and wait out the storm, or we can die out here in the cold."

  "I don't about the rest of you." Wynne interjected. "But I'm too old to be traipsing around in the cold. And if these men can offer us hospitality, I say we take it. And if not, well, I'd rather die where it's at least warm."

  Seeing as they had no choice, they followed their leader's advice and followed the infamous mountain men to their keep. They said nothing to the tribesman, made no attempt to ask where they were going or attempt to oppose them, they all just walked silently to their unknown destination as the storm picked up.

  And then they reached it. The mighty Avvar settlement of Bear-Hold, and were awed by it harsh yet maginificent splendor. It was a motte-and-bailey keep built of cut oak and quarried stone. Large, grey stone drum-towers built upon man-made mottes and all connected by the spiked, oaken walls harvested from the forest and its back built into the side of the moutaint. Its front gate was massive. Made of thick oak and reinforced by an iron portcullis. And on both sides of the gate stood two giant bears carved from redicoulously large trees. They both stood tall and proud, snarling angrily at any would-be invaders and both had cubs carved at their feet. To the others the foreign beauty of this keep was breathtaking, but to Aedan he felt more like he was returning to a home away from home.

  When they were but a mere hundred yards away from the gate the hawker and two of his compatriots walked to the gate alone, leaving their companions alone with the Warden and the others. Aedan used this time as an opportunity to turn to his fellows, urgently. "Alright, everyone listen and listen well, because I'm only going to say this once and, more importantly, if you do not listen it could be the death of us."

  They all nodded in confirmation.

  "Sten, no matter what you see, no matter how they act or how odd their ways may seem to you, you are not to say a fucking condescending word to them. You got that? Not a word, don't even scowl at them, 'cause if you do they'll take that as an insult and demand blood."

  "I will…make a conservative effort to oblige."

  "Wynne, their shamans practice a form of magic unknown and forbidden by the Circle. Don't contradict them or say anything about what is and what's not prohibited."

  "Understood."

  "Zevran, Oghren. Keep it in your pants."

  "Hey! Don't mix me up with this washy, elven, pipe-cleaner!" Oghren rejected.

  "Yes, Aedan. How can you be so inconsiderate?" Zeveran agreed. "I am much more desirable."

  "Yeah, he's…Hey!" Oghren balled his fist, ready to pound the elf as Zeveran laughed at him.

  Aedan sighed desperately as he addressed his lover. "Morrigan, I know I'm asking a lot, but please, don't make any backhanded comments about how dirty, wild or savage they might be or how much their animal pens might stink."

  "Ohh…fine if you insist."

  "Shale. Just don't break anything."

  "As if I were that clumsy. But it's not my fault if they don't make their building sturdy enough."

  "Alistair, don't let them have the faintest idea that you're a Templar. And Leliana, for the love of all you hold dear, don't even think about saying anything about the Maker or Andraste. Can you two do this?"

  "Of course." Alistair answered.

  "Why are you asking this of us?" Leliana questioned.

  Aedan pointed to the the oaken gate, on top of it were the bleached remains of prisoners that had been crucified to it, and still clinging to the skeletans were the tattered remnants of Chantry robes and Templar armor and helmets.

  Leliana gasped in shock and horror. "How…how could they do something so horrid?"

  "If I had to hazard a guess those idiots came here trying to convert these people. The Maker and His prophetess mean nothing to these people, and the Avvar know that 'conversion' is another word for 'conquest'."

  Their escorts motioned them to follow. They all proceeded through the giant gate as its oaken doors creaked open and its iron portcullis raised. Inside the court yard was an entourage of Avvar warriors, all armed to the teeth with spears, mauls and axes, even the sentries on the wall had their bows trained on them. Amongst them stood a man with a distinguished horn-mounted helm, he had dark red hair and a close-shaven beard with a long, k
notted mustached and a forked goatee. He wore a massive bearskin pelt and carried a long, powerful spear with animal bones and charms hanging from the head. Obviously this man was the chieftain of this tribe.

  "Is mise Jarl Maferath Ar Balak O Bear-Hold." The the chieftain announced.

  "M-Maferath!?" Leliana gasped.

  Aedan smiled widely and stepped forward, "Agus is mise Aedan Cousland Ar Bryce O Highever." He called holding out is axe authoritatively. Aedan removed the armor and sleeve around his left arm and showed of the Avvarian tattoo beneath it. "Agus glactha deathair ar Bear-Hold."

  There was a moment of tense silence as the two warriors stared down one another. The silence was broken when the two laughed boistrousley and shook hands as if they were old friends.

  Suddenly the eagle they saw earlier swooped down once more to the ground and bursted into a burst of light and turned into a woman! She was tall and beautiful with a modest bust, narrow hips and flowing, sun-kissed hair cascasding down her back. Her face was small, heart shaped and had plump, crimson lips that were pulled into a lovely smile and showed off her white teeth. She walked up to Aedan and hugged him affectionately, laughing loudly.

  "Failte roimh, mo dearthair." The eagle-woman laughed as the chieftain shook Aedan's hand welcomingly.

  Everyone in Aedan's company breathed a sigh of relief, except for Morrigan. She glared daggers at this woman and her blatant sign of affection that Aedan seemed to be returning.

  They all watched as Aedan spoke with the chieftain for a few minutes in their strange language. A few times the chieftain eyed and pointed at them curiously. No doubt these strangers were the oddest thing to ever walk through their gates. Leliana noticed a few children peering at them from around a corner, she smiled at them and they shyly ran off. When they were done Aedan walked back to them. "I've spoken with the chieftain and he says that we can stay until the storm has passed."

  "Oh, well that's a relief." Said Alistair.

  "Provided of course, the 'bronze-skinned giant' and the 'golden-eyed…witch' stay away from their children." Aedan finished.