There and Back Again Ch. 194

Chapter One Hundred Ninety-Four: Turnstile

The nighttime puppy visits become routine, and after the second or third night, we all stopped getting up to bring the puppies back. In the morning, the four little scamps would be returned to Lady's room, with all of us commiserating on our sleepless nights.

It became obvious -- after some good-natured teasing by the Wardens -- that the runt always ended up in Carver's room, which was the first indication that there was something going on beyond Prince and Lady needing a break. Once we noticed, we realised that it was like that for all of them: always the same puppy ended up with the same person. Alistair always ended up with the dark brown male with the long tail, and Bethany with the light brown boy; Cailan had a tawny female puppy with a stub tail, and Carver had the runt. The other two puppies -- both female, one nearly blonde and the other almost black -- always stayed with their parents.

I'd told Aedan that his dog had brought his girlfriend to the keep, of course, and he thought it was hilarious that we were being swamped by puppies. Jerk. As the only one I knew who had a mabari, I asked him questions about Prince as a puppy. He was the first to point out that likely we were being given an un-subtle hint that those four puppies had imprinted.

Jaro agreed, once we stopped to ask him; somehow, in the chaos of life at the Keep we hadn't discussed the nighttime adventures of the four puppies. When we told him what was happening, he confirmed Aedan's assumption with a laugh.

"How can a runt who can barely open her eyes imprint?" Alistair had asked, as he wrestled his brown puppy away from one of the others.

Carver scowled defensively as he stroked the little runt softly.

Jaro shrugged. "When they know, they know." And he was right; the only person who seemed to be able to calm the runt -- other than Lady -- was Carver, and in his care, she had begun developing much more quickly than before. She was still smaller than the other five, but she was feisty, growling and nipping at anyone who tried to get close to her food, and being a lot more assertive about feeding from Lady too. And for her part, Lady seemed to accept it and started treating her like any other puppy.

"What do you all think about being mabari owners?" I asked everyone one morning when we met up in Lady's room. Alistair grinned, and I didn't have to ask to know he was thrilled to have been chosen; fortunately, his happy smile was echoed by the other three with puppies in their laps.

"My kennel master is going to be annoyed with me," Cailan smirked, "seeing as he's been trying to get me to take a mabari for years -- but he didn't have the right dog for me, clearly." He scratched his puppy behind the ear, and she flopped down in front of him with one leg vibrating as she enjoyed the caress.

"Well, if you're all keeping them, you'll need to pick out names," I pointed out. Cailan, Bethany, and Carver looked pensive, but Alistair just grinned wider.

"Barkspawn."

I slapped my hand to my forehead. "Aaand there it is." I couldn't do anything else but laugh.

*****

It turned out imprinting a mabari might have been better for Carver than for the runt, even; he was far less surly with a squirming puppy to take care of, and despite his defensiveness at being teased about how tiny she was, he relaxed a lot more when she was with him. He was also the most diligent trainer. The puppies were all bright, so they shouldn't have been hard to train, but Carver had his dog able to perform basic commands well before any of the others. She'd come a long way from the tiny, underdeveloped puppy she'd started as. He'd named her Hero, which was pretty cute, even if everyone teased him about it.

Barkspawn, on the other hand, was becoming a handful, refusing to listen or do tricks, constantly climbing on our bed. Alistair couldn't seem to resist his big puppy eyes, and his discipline suffered as a result. We ended up giving him his own bed in the living room and closing him out of our bedroom at night. Cailan was having no more luck with his dog, and it was hilarious to watch the brothers struggle with their headstrong puppies. Bethany was a little better, but even she couldn't match Carver's efficiency.

Jaro worked with the two unbonded puppies, at least getting them up to speed with basic things like asking to go out and not barking all the time. They were far better behaved than Barkspawn, but even Jaro was amazed at Carver's progress.

Eventually Cailan had to leave; he'd delayed returning to Denerim for longer than he could really afford -- but I was glad we'd had the time. Alistair and Cailan's relationship had flourished, and my husband had never looked happier. And even Cailan looked more relaxed than I'd seen him in...ever, really. He'd brought an escort when he'd come from Highever, and they planned to ride back to Highever before taking his ship back to Denerim. The trip was considered extremely safe, given how close to shore they would stay, so it was with an easy heart that we prepared to bid the king goodbye.

Jaro would accompany him as far as Highever, leaving us to take care of the puppies. And to my surprise, I learned the night before the scheduled departure that Cailan and Jaro weren't the only ones leaving.

Leandra knocked on my office door just before supper, and I asked her to come in.

"What can I do for you, Leandra?" We'd gotten comfortable enough to use first names, once she had realised I was really serious about not wanting to be called 'your Highness'. I smiled and waved her toward a chair.

"I just wanted to thank you for your hospitality," she began formally. "You may have invited us, but we never would have expected such a warm welcome. And it seems you've probably saved all of our lives, as mad as it feels to say. I appreciate everything you have done for us."

"Nonsense." I shook my head. "I wish I could have done more -- stopped Marian and Bethany from going to the Deep Roads, perhaps."

Leandra smiled. "I doubt the Maker himself could have stopped them." She sighed. "I think...Bethany may be happy here, eventually. It's not what I pictured for her, but..."

I knew exactly what she meant. "I know. But we're good people, here. And we're working all the time to make the burden of being a Warden less onerous. As a mage, she'll have more freedom with us than anywhere else in Thedas. It's not a terrible life."

Leandra blinked, and I wondered if she was holding back tears. "I know I can't expect any more favours, but—"

I leaned over and took her clenched hand with both of mine. "We will take care of her. I promise she will be as safe as I can make her, and as happy. I swear it."

Leandra gave me a watery smile, and I squeezed her hand again before letting go. "So...all of this sounds very much like a goodbye."

She nodded. "His Majesty has kindly extended me his hospitality. I'm going to travel with him to Denerim, and he's offered to introduce me there and let me stay at the Palace until I find a little place of my own."

I thought of the vast fortune Hawke would likely have returned from the Deep Roads with. Or not so little. Still, I smiled. "I'm glad. I think you'll be much happier there -- it's rather boring here, I suspect." Another thought occurred to me. "And Carver?"

Leandra beamed proudly. "The King has offered him a spot in the palace guard."

I raised one eyebrow in shock, trying not to let my hesitance show. What was Cailan thinking? And why has he taken such an interest in the family of a deceased apostate, anyway? Leandra must have noticed my derision despite my efforts, because she stifled a smirk.

"I know Carver can be...difficult, at times. But he's a good boy -- man, I suppose -- underneath the bluster. He and the king have gotten to know each other a bit, what with the puppies," we both chuckled, "and I think some of the things his Majesty said may have made some impact. I think it will work out well."

"Well, uh...good, then? I'm glad you've both figured out where you want to be." I offered her my hand again. "Just know that you're always welcome here."

"Thank you again. For everything." Leandra ignored my hand and pulled me into a hug. "I suppose I had better go pack."

"Goodnight, Leandra."

We spent the evening with Cailan, wanting to take advantage of the last time we'd see him for a while. "Oh, but you'll come for Teagan's wedding, won't you?" he asked after we'd eaten a quiet supper in our quarters.

"Oh, I hadn't heard! Did he finally ask Kaitlyn, then?"

Cailan smirked. "Ages ago. She made him wait, the poor man."

"Good for her." Alistair nudged me, and I grinned. "What? It's always better to keep men coming back for more."

He grabbed me and ruffled my hair, making me squawk and elbow him in the gut; we play-wrestled for a minute until he pressed his lips to mine and I stopped fighting to pull him closer.

We both jumped when Cailan cleared his throat awkwardly. I blushed and grinned, and Alistair released me like I was on fire and burning him.

Cailan tried to stifle a smile. "Right, so the wedding is in Denerim in August. That's less than three months away."

"Good. It'll be good to see everyone again. I guess I'll get a chance to check in on Leandra and Carver, too." I shot Cailan an inquiring look.

His too-innocent expression didn't fool me. "What? She's a noblewoman, regardless of who her late husband was. And I owe Marian and Bethany for their help in Kirkwall. Introducing her to high society in Denerim will hardly be onerous."

"I notice you've never said exactly why you owe them," Alistair pointed out. "You've been completely cagey about answering the question, too."

"What question?" That bland expression stayed put, and I narrowed my eyes at him.

"What exactly did Marian and Bethany do for you? I can ask Bethany if you don't want to tell us."

"Go ahead." Cailan's stoic expression cracked, and he chuckled. "I told you, we had gotten trapped inside the Viscount's Keep by an angry mob and a bunch of templars. Anders, Bethany, and Marian had just entered the city and had been trying to help quell the riots. They managed to intimidate the mob into leaving, and we sallied when they attacked the templars from behind."

"Uh huh..." There was more there, I knew it, but I couldn't seem to put my finger on it.

"And then I ran into them again in Anders' clinic, when I went to visit. They told me that Bethany was coming here and Leandra and Carver were accompanying her, but they couldn't find a ship. I wasn't ready to leave Kirkwall yet, so I offered them the use of mine." He grinned at me. "It wasn't just them -- we sent back a couple dozen refugees at the same time. We've been having trouble finding enough people to work the farms in the bannorn."

Alistair was clearly as suspicious as I was. "Yes...?"

"That's all there is to it!" Cailan laughed at my skeptical expression. "Honestly. You doubt the word of the King of Ferelden?"

"Yes!" Alistair responded before I could give the same answer.

Cailan puffed up his chest ridiculously, and I couldn't hold the quirked eyebrow any longer. The three of us broke down into laughter, and we let Cailan get away with changing the subject.

"Denerim is going to be a nightmare," he sighed. "I've been gone so long, every noble in town is going to want a private audience. I'm going to need to double the guard just to stop them from harassing me in the privy."

Alistair snickered.

"A guard that has Carver as one of its members?" I asked.

Cailan sighed. "I know he can be annoying," he allowed, "but...I guess I understand him. You've told me he has potential, but I don't think he'll reach that here where Bethany is a Warden, or Kirkwall with Marian overshadowing him. I've gotten to know him a little, since the whole puppy incident," he scratched the ear of the puppy sleeping in his lap fondly, "and I think he'll do fine in Denerim."

"Speaking of puppies, did you ever decide what you were going to name yours?" Alistair had Barkspawn in his lap too, and the brothers both turned adorable goo-goo eyes on the animals they held.

"I rather thought I might call her Moira." Cailan grinned. "And from what I've heard, I don't think my grandmother would be at all offended by her namesake."

I rolled my eyes so hard I thought I might have gone permanently blind.

Alistair's response brought me back with a laugh: "I guess...they're both blondes?"

*****

We tried to buckle back down to work after Cailan left, but it seemed we were destined to have a stream of never-ending disruptions -- not that they didn't keep life interesting, at least. As Bethany got settled in Warden quarters with her dog -- whom she named Garion, apparently after a character in a book she'd loved growing up -- and Alistair started evaluating volunteers as potential Warden recruits, we got another visitor we never expected.

"My Lady," puffed yet another breathless soldier, whose thick winter uniform showed he'd probably been patrolling the mines, "there's a woman here to see you. An elf." I was heartened to see her described as a woman first, an elf second -- but I couldn't imagine any female elf who would be coming to see me. He continued, "I think she's a mage -- she's wearing robes sort of like Senior Enchanter Wynne does."

I blinked, surprised not only that the soldier knew Wynne well enough to describe her clothes, but also that a mage in Chantry gear would be coming to see me. That rules out Merrill, Lanaya, and...yep, that's all the elven mages I know of. Huh. "Is she alone?"

"Yes, my Lady, and she specifically asked to see you privately, and not anyone else. And she's Orlesian!" He said it like it was a dirty word. "That's why I ran ahead. I don't like it -- what if she intends you harm?"

I smiled at the soldier, but my expression must have been fiercer than I thought because his eyes widened comically. "If she's a mage, I have very little to fear from her." I thought for a moment. "Bring her to the sitting room near the main hall -- and ask Avanna to meet me there, would you?"

I briefly wished Alistair was around, but he'd gone down into the Deep Roads with a group of soldiers to look for recent darkspawn activity and to further assess a handful of new arrivals who'd requested to become Wardens, so he wasn't within reach. But I'd been telling the truth when I said I wouldn't have much to fear from a single mage; still, having Avanna with me was a sensible precaution, and if the visitor's reasons for wanting privacy were legitimate, I knew I could count on her discretion.

I finished the paperwork I was in the middle of, and then walked down the stairs with the guard on duty, slowly so I wouldn't beat Avanna there. When we arrived, my faithful Captain was standing outside the door, an impassive expression that hid any feelings she might have about being summoned. "Is she here?" I asked.

Avanna shook her head. "Not yet."

The three of us waited in the hall; I could have gone in, I supposed, but the idea of being seated when the visitor was brought in felt wrong, like it left me at a disadvantage somehow, so I decided to stand. We didn't have to wait long before I heard booted footsteps echoing down the hallway. A few moments later, a petite figure with a long cloak and hood that hid her face followed one of my soldiers around the corner, with several more soldiers trailing behind. I could see Chantry robes underneath the cloak, in shades of brown, green, and gold, more like Irving's than Wynne's, though the ubiquitous, bizarre-shaped belt peeked through the gap in her cloak. I got a glimpse of dark hair, but that was all I could see of her face. She could clearly see me, however; she dropped into an immediate curtsy at my feet.

"Your Highness," she murmured, and I could just hear the hint of a French -- Orlesian -- accent. It was different than Leliana's, not nearly as strong, but not nasal and irritating like Isolde either.

"Rise," I answered -- the expected response, though I hated it. "Please, let me take your cloak." It was as close to a command as I could bring myself to make, but the fact that she was hiding her face didn't do much for my trust in the situation. I wasn't going anywhere with her until I had some idea who she was and what she wanted.

She glanced around, and then I could see her arms moving underneath the cloak. Before I could even say anything, Avanna had her sword drawn, the tip just touching the woman's chin, her hand steadier than mine would ever be in that position.

"Please!" The woman's voice cracked, either with fear or shock, and both of her hands emerged from below the cloak. One was empty, but the other held a thick envelope, wavering slightly, betraying an obvious tremor. "I have a letter from the Warden-Commander." She took a breath and swallowed. "The former Warden-Commander," she clarified, and held the envelope out to me.

I looked down at the letter she held, stunned to see the handwriting I never thought I'd see again, and my name scrawled across the paper. A griffon was imprinted in the wax sealing it closed.

"I'll take off my hood -- but only with you, your Highness. Please, may we speak privately?"

I took the letter slowly as if in a trance, unable to tear my eyes away from it for a few more moments. When Avanna shifted beside me -- her sword still held out threateningly -- I swallowed and shook my head to clear it. "Yes, alright." I looked at Avanna and nodded, and the guard reluctantly sheathed her sword. "In here."

I dismissed the other soldiers, leaving my guard outside, and led the stranger into the sitting room with Avanna behind her. I saw the elf turn to face Avanna nervously, but she must have realised it would be futile to ask me to have her leave. She turned her back to the guard and reached up to unbutton her cloak. The hood slipped back, and revealed a face I hadn't expected -- it was no one I recognised. With all the secrecy, I'd expected it to end up being someone I knew, or at least knew of.

I ignored the paper in my hand for a moment to examine the woman in front of me. She had dark hair with a few streaks of grey, cut in a short bob. I imagined she was in her forties, or maybe even fifties -- I found age hard to guess at the best of times. She was indeed an elf, with the expected ears, and large, dark eyes. She was several inches shorter than me, and slim but with obvious feminine curves. Her robes looked even more like Irving's when I could see them properly. There was a short staff strapped to her back somehow, which I hadn't even noticed under the cloak. She was perfectly ordinary -- pretty but not beautiful, though she watched me with an intensity that would make her stand out in a crowd.

"Who are you?" I waved her to a chair and sat across from her, still holding the letter she'd brought from Duncan. Avanna still stood behind her, silent and unmoving but ever watchful. I lifted my hand. "Where did you get this?"

She winced slightly at my tone, which probably sounded nearly hysterical. "Duncan is -- was -- an old friend. He wrote to me during the Blight, but it took me until now to make arrangements to travel here. He sent me that as...an introduction, of sorts." She paused, and I thought she expected me to open the letter right there in front of her.

I had no intention of meeting her expectations. I would read Duncan's letter, but on my own terms. "You didn't answer my question. Who are you?"

She smiled, a little sadly, I thought. "A more complicated question than you know, your Highness. Who I am now is hardly as relevant here as who I used to be."

I blinked, confused, then narrowed my eyes, feeling my temper rise. "Are you refusing to tell me who you are?"