Aedan Of Highever

by Milton Garby

  "Studied what, exactly?" Aedan inquired.

  "The ways of our ancestors, of course." She answered. "I have studied the history and magic that has been passed down through our people since the days of Arlathan."

  "It sounds like you've done much with yourself." Aedan commented.

  "No. Not really." Lanaya waved off with bashful modesty. "Surely as a Grey Warden you've seen things and gone to places I could never dream of." Lanaya shuffled her feet nervously and shyly dodged his eyes. "I…am a bit curious about the outside world. Would you mind if I asked you a question or two?"

  "You asked me a question just now, actually." He answered humorously.

  "What an odd thing to say." She laughed. "I meant about the outside world."

  Aedan smiled at her. "I'll answer to the best of my ability."

  "I hear that the human cities are very large: thousands upon thousands of souls all packed together in their houses. Is that true?" The young apprentice asked wide-eyed.

  "You've never been to a city before?"

  "The few settlements I have been to were small settlements. I have never experienced anything a permenant as a city."

  "Well, I don't know about thousands upon thousands packed together, but yes several cities I've been to have tens of thousands of inhabitants."

  "How loud it must be with everyone talking all at once. I try to imagine those of our kind living in such a place. It…is a difficult thought." Lanaya said sadly.

  "They are used to it, just as the humans are."

  "Being accustomed to hardship and pain doesn't make it any less tragic." Lanaya lamented. "My heart goes out to the elves who live in such conditions."

  Aedan was reminded of sweet Iona and how she might have felt about Lanaya's assertions about the lot of City Elves. "Well, that depends on what walls of stone and indifference you're talking about, Lanaya."

  "What do you mean? Are you saying that elves are better in some places than they are in others?"

  "Sad truth is, no where in the world do the elves have it easy, but at least in Ferelden an elf can make something of themselves if they should choose to. Here an elf can learn a trade, own a business and no matter how lowly their job may be they are justly compensated for their work. In Orlais they are, at best, treated like lowly servants and are paid in the promise of eventual payment, and at worst they are treated like pets. And I think you and I both know what the lot of elves in Tevinter is like."

  "I suppose you've seen enough of the world to know that." She pointed out almost enviously.

  Now it was Aedan's turn to ask a question or two. "I noticed that your accent is different from the rest of your clan, why is that?"

  "I was not born among the Dalish, I came to the clan when I was very young." Lanaya began to tell Aedan of the sad tale of how she became one of the Dalish. At first he felt sympathy for her but then he couldn't help but admire how she became Zathrian's First through hard work and determination. She spoke of Zathrian with such awe and revenance but Aedan became wary of him after Lanaya told him of how her Keeper was a terrible force to be reckoned with when roused.

  "How long has Zathrian led this clan?" Aedan asked.

  "He has always been the clan leader, for three hundred years in fact." Lanaya answered simply.

  Three hundred years!? He was about as old as Ferelden was as a united kindom! "How…how is that possible?" Aedan asked disbelievingly.

  "Our ancestors used to be immortal, and with time and seclusion we too shall regain it." Lanaya countiued to explain.

  "Yes, but why him and not others?"

  "We Dalish live longer lives than humans anyway, but Zathrian claims it is because of his intunement to nature."

  Aedan could scarecely believe it, if the Ancient elves were immortal then losing so many centuries and not just millennia of knowledge was heartbreaking even to Aedan. This alone made the elves hatred for humans justified.

  "He has led the clan with wisdom and truth for all these centuries but he has also lost much." Lanaya continued.

  "Lost much? What do you mean?"

  That's when Lanaya knew she had said too much but still felt compeled to answer the shemlen question. "He lost both of his children a very long time ago." She said sorrowfully. "The circumstances were…very violent."

  "I see." Aedan responded sympathetically.

  "I have one more question: do your people regret what they did to ours?" Lanaya asked intently.

  Aedan thought for a moment. "You're asking a difficult question with no easy answer. Do I feel that what happened to your people was tragic? Yes, most definetly. No one has the right to take from another what's not theirs. The Chantry broke Andraste's promise and for that I hope every Chantry and Orlesian usurper who stole the Dales burns in hell. But do I feel responsible about what happened to you? No. Not at all."

  "Why not?" The young mage inquired almost offended.

  "Despite what you may think, my ancestors had nothing to do with the destruction of Arlathan or the downfall of the Dales." Aedan explained. "During the sacking of the Dales my ancestors were still warring tribesman and two thirds of us didn't even know what the Chantry was, infact up until three centuries ago we weren't even a kingdom. So, while I feel sympathy for what happened to your people, I feel no responsibility for it."

  "And yet, those of you who do feel regret do nothing." Lanaya continued.

  "No. Why should we?" Aedan asked flaltly. "We've all got our own problems to deal with. For example, eighty years ago my people were conquered by the Orlesian Empire in almost the same fashion that your homeland was conquered. If we came to your people for aid would you have given it?" Aedan rebutted. "Don't answer that question. We both know the answer."

  With both their questions answered Lanaya pointed Aedan towards the craftsmaster, if Aedan was going to go werewolf hunting he was going to need fresh supplies. As Aedan made his way over to Master Varathorn he noticed Oghren was there as well.

  "What are you doing? You've warped the wood entirely! Did you leave it in the rain!?" Varathorn lectured at a young elf who was must've been his apprentice.

  "N-no, Master Varathorn. The wood wasn't taking form so I thought it needed more heat…"

  "Your not smelting ore like a durgen'len. This is living wood! It requires patience and delicate hands!"

  "Elves and their woodshaping, its unnantural." Oghren commented skeptically. The thought of using wood to make weapons was very alien to him. "Why use wood when you've got perfectly good steel or stone?"

  "Spoken like a true Child of the Stone, my friend." Varathorn answered condescendingly.

  "Who you calling a child, old man?" The dwarf retorted in a huff.

  Wait, all these weapons were made of wood? Impossible! Aedan took a good look at all their arms and armor. They were all of high quality make, yes, but surely they couldn't be made of wood. Varathorn shooed his apprentice away and noticed that the human had a bewildered look on his face.

  "Greetings. I am Varathorn, the clan's craftsmaster, is there something I can help you with?"

  "Yes, uh, may I get a better look at one of your swords?" Aedan asked apprehensively.

  "Certaintly." Varathorn answered almost gleefuly.

  He handed Aedan one of his blades hanging on his aravel's wall. Aedan couldn't help but be in awe of such a beautiful weapon. It was a curved, one edged longsword, similar to the Green Blade Bevin lent him at Redcliffe, but it shined with a white and blue hue. He felt the weight of it, it was light as feather! He glided his hand gently against the blade, it was so smooth and didn't feel like steel at all; it felt like the grain of wood and it was much more flexible than and twice as sharp as any steel sword.

  The Craftsmaster had a smile on his face, pleased that a human was admiring his people's craftsmanship.

  "This is a beautiful weapon, ser and you say it's made of wood?" Aedan asked.

  "Yes, ironbark to exact. We craftsmasters try our best to remember the forgotten forging crafts of our anc
estors and what we do know we pass down to our apprentices only." Varathorn explained.

  "Well, what you do know, most of our smiths pale compare to your work." Aedan complimented handing the blade back.

  "You are most kind to say so." Varathron said gently taking back the blade and placing it with his other fine works.

  "How much ironbark do you have?"

  "Not very much I'm afraid. We had just ran out when the werewolves attacked and with the Keeper forbidding us to enter the forest I have not been able to restock our storage."

  "I'm going into the forests to find Witherfang, perhaps I can search for some for you."

  "I would be hesitant to ask, but I would be most grateful." The craftmaster said not expecting a human to help him.

  "Where would I find some?"

  "It is usually found on trees that have fallen from great age, but not cut down."

  "If I see some I'll bring it back to you."

  "That would please me, so long as our hunters come first."

  As Aedan made the purchases of potions and kits that they were going to need a pair of gloves caught his eye. Aedan remembered Zevran telling him about how found he was of leather and about the gloves he had when he was a child but were taken from him when he was recruited into the Crows. He was sure Zevran would love to have something that reminded of his mother in his possession.

  Aedan found the Assassin sitting with a bunch of other elves around the clan's Hahren, or Historian/Storyteller. Aedan guessed Zevran was trying to reconnect with his Dalish roots judging by how enraptured he was at the stories being told. When Aedan gave Zevran the gloves Zevran was taken aback, no one had just given him something unless he had a knife to their thoat first. Zevran thanked the Warden and Aedan was just glad that his friend had something that reminded him of happier days.

  Aedan saw Dane trotting over towards the stables where the Halla were kept and following Dane with laughter and giggles was a large group of elven children. Apparently Dane had become Mr. Popular. As Aedan made his way over to the stables Dane barked at his master's coming but as soon as the children saw him they all pointed and laughed before running away in mock terror. Dane whimpered as all his new friends ran away and gave Aedan a lecturing huff.

  "Aw, you hurt his feelings." Alistair said walking up towards them.

  As Aedan was about to retort he noticed in the stables was a young elven woman with white inspecting on of her Halla. Strange. Why did she have this one so far away from the rest of the herd?

  "Who comes?" the elven woman asked alarmed not expecting anyone.

  "Oh, I beg your pardon, stranger. I was so busy tending to the halla I didn't sense anyone approach. I am Elora, the master herder in charge of caring for the Halla." She introduced. "Not as exciting as being a Grey Warden, but they are vital to us."

  "Well, less dangerous that's for sure." Alistair pointed out.

  "So, these are the Halla." Aedan marveled at the beautiful creature.

  "Yes, they are the noble beasts that guide the Dalish and pull our aravels." Elora told them adoringly.

  "So, they're like horses?" Alistair asked and the herder looked on indifferently.

  "We ride the Halla but not with reigns or saddles, the Halla choose to guide us and it is our privledge that they pull our aravels, and in turn it's the herder's duty to speak to the Halla and make sure their needs are taken care of. It's a bond of friendship not servitude." Elora finished.

  "So, their more akin to Mabari, then?" Aedan pointed while petteing Dane; the massive hound barked happily. "Mabari aren't pets or service beasts, they are companions for life. As strong and intelligent as any friend would be. They are as sacred to the Fereldan people as the Halla are to the Dalish." Aedan explained while Dane trotted over to Elora and began to gently paw the herder in an attempt to charm her.

  As Elora admired and petted Dane as Aedan looked at the Halla she was tending to. "I notice you have this one separated from the rest of the herd."

  "I am afraid she may have been bitten in the werewolf attack, a bite would not be have the same affect on her as it would others but it is lethal and I'm afraid it may be contagious. I have tried speaking to her but she is too agitated to respond. I can find no wound but…if she truly is ill I will have no choice but to put her out of her misery." Elora told him sadly.

  Aedan could sympathize with that, if something were to befall Dane Aedan would mourn his loss as he would a brother. "I am sorry, this must be hard for you. Is there anything I can do to help?"

  "I don't know, if you have and special skills to help her I would be most grateful."

  Aedan walked over to the Halla and hoped his survival skills and his own companionship with a noble Mabari would help to calm her down. At first the Halla backed away fearfully, but as Aedan put his hand on her gently, then began to stroke her head tenderly she began to calm down.

  "She-she's calming down!" Elora exclaimed excitedly. "That's it, love. Calm, tell me what troubles you."

  Elora placed her hand on the Halla and if Aedan and Alistair didn't know any better they'd say it looked like they were having a conversation. "Hmm, yes, oh, I see! Now I understand! It is her lifemate that was bitten the last attack not her, and she fears greatly for him. I had not realized another Halla had been bitten."

  Wait. She actually understood what the Halla wanted? Aedan shoudn't have been surprised since he could understand what Dane wanted but the Mabari converse with barks and motions. How the hell can she understand them just by putting her ear to their snout?

  "This will allow me to stop the sickness from spreading to the entire heard. Ma seranas, you have done a great boon for my clan."

  As Aedan accepted the thanks from the herder he decided it was time to take care of the werewolf problem and gathered up his company. He began to hear of how the clan was grateful for their assistance, and how they had helped the beloved Halla, he also heard how Leliana was playing matchmaker to a pair of lovesick elves.

  Before they began to make there was towards the Brecilian Forest Aedan was approached by a middle aged elf who seemed distraught. "Excuse me, ser." He began. "I am told that you are the Grey Warden who is going to hunt Witherfang, is that not so?"

  "Yes, can I help you?"

  The man looked down in sadness and then looked at Aedan again. "I was actually considering going with you but Zathrian has forbidden me from doing so."

  "Well, I understand that but you look more than just upset about not going to find your fellow hunters."

  "It's just that…. During the first werewolf attack my wife Danyla and I fought together but she was so gravely wounded the curse spread through rapidly. Zathrian did his best to cure her but there was nothing he could do, and although he said that Danyla had died he won't let me see her….her body." Athras choked up. "I am beginning to believe that she became a werewolf and it is being kept from me so don't go chasing after her."

  "And if she was a werewolf? And if the elf chased and found her? What then? Sweet blissful reunion?" Shale mocked.

  "I….don't know. Perhaps she would now me as he love even still?" Athras sounded like he was trying to fool himself.

  "More like she'd love to eat you!" Shale mocked once more.

  "Shale…" Aedan growled. "Another word from you and I will have our residential Crow shit on you for the duration of the Blight!"

  "Oh, and I'd do it too, just to see what golem vomit looks like!" Zevran laughed.

  "Enough! I shall be silent." The golem quickly conceded.

  "If I could know if she is alive or what became of her then I could be at peace." Athras said with forlorn.

  "Perhaps I could speak to Zathrian and insist he tell you what exactly happened." Aedan suggested.

  "No! No, it would be rude to accuse the Keeper of lying… I know he means well, but I need to know what happened to her one way or another."

  What? If the Keeper was lying to him Athras had every right to accuse him of such, this was the man's wife they were
talking about for fuck's sake! However, he would respect Athras' decision. "Very well, should I learn what became of her, I will return and tell."

  "Ma serenas, you are most kind."

  In the Heart of the Brecelian Forest….

  As they were making their way into the forest outside of the camp and the entrance to the forest, Aedan couldn't help but look and admire the Dalish elves. The were all one huge family but everyone had a purpose, everyone acted with a certain discipline and that's when Aedan felt that what the Tevinters and the Chantry did to them was a great shame. Perhaps Ferelden could reconcile with these people, starting by helping them against the werewolves.

  The company had made their way throught the eastern part of the Brecilian forest, not really running into anything but regular wolves and a big bear, not much of a challenge. However, they soon came to a waterfall and a river crossing and there was a group of werewolves standing there, as if waiting for them.

  "It would seem that the Dalish have sent a human to exact revenge for our attack, to put us in our place. What bitter irony." One of the werewolves said.

  What the fuck? They can actually talk? Why didn't the Dalish tell him this? They were just like the legends, giant wolves that stood like men, only much larger. Aedan looked down with amusement at his hound as he growled at the possible attackers; Dane and the Werewolf. "You speak? Why didn't the clan tell me of this?"

  "You know nothing, human! You speak to Swiftrunner, I lead my cursed brothers and sisters." The beast informed. "Go back to the Dalish, tell them you failed. Tell them we will gladly watch them suffer the curse as we have all suffered for too long. We will watch them pay."

  Aedan stared down the beast. "So it was you and yours who attacked this clan."

  "Yes! My only regret is that we didn't infect all of the cursed Dalish!" Swiftrunner snarled. "Tell Zathrian that we will gladly watch his kind suffer the same fate we have suffered! We will be ignored no longer!"

  They knew the Keeper's name? "You speak as though you know Zathrian."

  "Hrrr. We have never met. He would not surivive the encounter. I promise you that." Swiftrunner answered. "This isn't your affair, human. Leave while you still can."