Estella scrubbed both hands down her face. She'd yet to fully shake the effects of the red lyrium exposure—it left a rattle in her limbs and a sick feeling in her guts that meant even now she wasn't sure if she was going to keep or lose the meal she'd eaten earlier that day.
The hostage she'd pulled from the fight hadn't managed to survive. She couldn't help but feel that was her fault. If she'd been faster in recovering from the initial shock of the lyrium's proximity, she would not have needed to waste any time trying to fend off that templar. She could have simply grabbed the poor man and moved. If she'd been steadier with her healing spells, she'd have been able to clot his wounds fast enough to stop him from bleeding out. But despite the fact that swiftness and steadiness were her relative strengths, she had failed on both counts. And now all the hostages were dead. Innocent people, snuffed out for reasons she could scarcely understand.
It wasn't, unfortunately, an unfamiliar feeling. She'd just hoped she'd never have to deal with it again. A naïve hope, all things considered, but one she'd still clung to. One she'd needed. In the end, all that poor man had been able to say was that he was kidnapped from a nearby village, forced to handle red lyrium at some unknown location, and then shipped off with it to a destination he also didn't have any knowledge of. And then he'd expired under her hands, and with him, the last chance that this whole excursion would even have any good result. Three of their own templars had died, another five had taken nearly-fatal injuries. She had no idea what kind of state Leon was in, only that he and to some extent Séverine really needed a better healer than she was. For now, he was at least stable, but still unconscious.
As it turned out, the confrontation had drawn the attention of another group, apparently refugees fled from another small settlement. One of those in the group had been the hostage's cousin or kinsman of some sort, and so the Inquisition had stopped to help them recover the rest of the bodies as well, in case anyone else was familiar. After the red lyrium had been moved out, of course. Now they were back at the refugees' campsite, for the moment. It was as good a place to wait for the others as any, and Signy had been dispatched back to the first forward camp to guide them here when they returned.
They were being fed, actually; it seemed the refugees had been located here long enough to have both devised good gathering systems and trade with the Dalish for at least some things. Estella thought it was awfully generous of them to be offering to feed guests considering their situation, but when the Inquisition's rations were added into the lot, there was more than enough to go around. She sat herself down next to Lia and Zee with a small plate, unsure she'd be able to stomach it but knowing quite well that she needed to try. Corona, the apparent leader of the refugee group, staffed the large stewpot, handing out bowls of hot food to the templars and her people alike. It was a bit of an eclectic group, almost as if the entirety of a small town had packed up and moved together. Estella wouldn't be too surprised if that were the case, given the circumstances.
Zahra kept relatively quiet after they’d returned. She’d already wolfed down her bowlful of stew, though it was apparent that she’d done so in a weak attempt to keep herself busy. Spatters of blood stained her leathers, and would need a scrubbing once they were allowed the luxury of doing so. The slice across her cheek had been tended to as best they could manage, wrapped in a clean bandage that wound across her head and into her hair.
She sat at Stel’s elbow and occasionally glanced her way. There was a sense that there was something she wanted to say. Her mouth had opened; once or twice, before resolutely shutting. Instead, she gently patted her back and turned away, busying herself by dragging the wooden spoon at the bottom of her empty bowl.
Lia swallowed a spoonful of soup next to her. She was covered in a layer of dried sweat and grime, as they all were. There hadn't been any time or opportunity to properly clean up before they were on the move again, but at she hadn't needed to deal with any blood, her own or otherwise. She didn't seem in high spirits, but that was hardly surprising.
Glancing over, she noted the bloodied bandage over the arrow wound Estella had taken during the fight. "Hey, Stel, make sure Asala takes a look at that when they get back sometime, okay?" It wasn't phrased as a command or even advice, but instead just the concern of a friend.
Estella glanced down at it; honestly, she'd all but forgotten it was there. Now that she remembered it, though, she noticed that it hurt, and grimaced a bit before nodding. It wasn't intolerable, but it would be pointless to set herself up for an infection—there was no way her battlefield solution had been completely sanitary. Not when she'd been nearly elbow-deep in the hostage's blood, trying to keep it in his body.
She closed her eyes for a moment and saw fire. Blinking them open quickly, she gave Lia a small nod. “I will. Thanks." She tried a small bite of the stew and found it quite tasty for what it was, but decided to wait a bit before trying another, to make sure the first stayed down.
It left her wanting a distraction of some kind. Fortunately, Corona had just finished serving everyone else and was now holding her own meal. When her eyes met Estella's, she brightened a bit and made her way over to sit with the small group. "Lady Inquisitor. I hope I'm not intruding?"
Estella shook her head. “Of course not. It's your camp, after all. We're the intruders."
The refugee woman smiled, deepening the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and mouth. The pattern suggested she'd smiled a lot in her life. Estella was almost jealous of them. She suspected that hers would one day look very different, but pushed the thought from her mind hastily. “It's a nice setup you have here. Relatively speaking, I mean." It was, in a sense. The refugees had made their home in a small network of caves and short cliffsides, allowing them some protection from the dangers that wandered outside. Clearly, they'd been present long enough to have made parts of the settlement almost permanent as well. The waterfall she could hear faintly roaring in the distance likely kept them from the perils of thirst quite easily.
Fortunately, Corona seemed disinclined to take the comment the wrong way, instead nodding a few times in agreement. "It is. It's not Vannes, of course, but... home is where the right people are. And with luck, we won't be here forever."
“Was it the war that pushed you out?" Estella carefully took a second bite of her stew.
"Mhm." Corona's expression darkened for a moment, and she shook her head. "Damned fools. It's not like any of us care who wears the crown. It's all the same, in the end. But when that bloody Game gets played out on our doorsteps... we didn't have much choice. We were supposed to end up in Arlesans, but that fell through."
Arlesans? Estella sat up a little straighter. “Fell through how?"
"They stopped writing us back. The Lady's son, it was. Everything was fine until about a year ago, then nothing."
Well, Estella knew exactly why that was. “He ran into some trouble of his own," she explained softly. “But it should be resolved soon; I'm sure you'll be hearing from him again. In the meantime, is there anything you need? We should be able to help a little, if there's something we can do."
Corona thought on that for a moment, then sighed through her nose. "Short of ending the war and scrubbing those damned Freemen off the map, I'm not sure there's anything to be done. We make do, for supplies. But life would be easier if we could go back home, or to Arlesans. Somewhere to put down roots again."
Soon after, the sound of footfalls alerted them to new arrivals in the camp. Ves was the first to come into view, still clad in his armor besides his helmet, leading a group that was larger by a few than the one they'd set out with. Khari, Cyrus, and Asala were behind him, a few bloodstains on them but none of which appeared to be their own. The two that followed behind them were people Estella had not seen in a very long time, but they were a hard pair to forget.
Lia nearly choked on a mouthful beside her, suddenly almost panicking as she tried to shove her chair back, only for it to catch on the rock beneath her. When she stood she bumped the table and spilled part of her soup, and then the chair clattered onto its back behind her, but she was already sliding away from it, holding out her hands apologetically. "Sorry, I'm sorry!" And then she was off, her eyes lit up, sprinting across the distance and throwing herself at Ithilian, who looked stunned by a spell for a moment before he wrapped his arms around her as well. They exchanged words, or rather, Lia drowned out anything Ithilian could say, speaking incessantly and unintelligibly from Estella's distance into his shoulder, blinking through rapidly forming tears.
Ves observed the spectacle for a moment with a mixture of bewilderment and amusement, before he spied Estella and made his way over to the table, winding around to scoop up the chair Lia had tipped over, putting it back upright and sinking down into it next to her. He pulled off his gloves, still watching the unexpected reunion. "Well. I'm glad someone found something pleasant here."
Estella was quite surprised herself, but of course she hadn't been nearly as close with the newcomers as Lia was. The Inquisitor dabbed at the spilled soup with a cloth and an apologetic smile to Corona, who shrugged and waved a hand.
"Don't mind it, dear. I'll take care of it later." She excused herself with a small smile, leaving Ves, Estella, and Zahra to themselves. The others seemed to be settling around the camp, though she made brief eye contact with Cyrus before he disappeared. A brief check, confirmation of life. She'd have to talk to him later.
For now, though, she moved her attention to Ves instead. Turning a bit in her chair, she let her knee settle against his when they brushed. After the difficulty her group had run into... she'd worried about the others, too, but he seemed all right. The knot in the pit of her stomach loosened a little. "How on earth did you run into Ithilian and Amalia?" she asked, a smile pulling at her mouth almost despite herself. Whatever the case, it seemed much more likely to be a good story than the one she had to tell. The one she was avoiding so much as thinking about, for the moment.
"Ambushes on top of ambushes in this forest," he answered, exhaling heavily and setting his helm down on the table. He ran his hands through his mass of hair. "The Venatori set one for us in the ruins, and those two let us walk into it. Then they ambushed the Venatori. Would've preferred if they'd asked us first, but I can understand why they didn't." He watched as Lia finally broke the hug with Ithilian and turned to Amalia. She wasn't nearly as aggressive with her touch there, simply laying a hand on the older woman's shoulder, but her smile was just as broad.
"They've been hunting the Venatori leader for some time, that Magister Alesius," Ves explained. "I tried not to pry, but it's pretty obviously personal. We convinced them to take a look at the Inquisition." He had a hint of a smile as well, when he saw how suddenly soft the battered old elf became around Lia. "Glad we did. Seems they have friends here." He seemed to realize something, and turned to look at Estella. "You know them too?"
Estella watched the almost-invisible smile touch Amalia's mouth, then turned back to Vesryn. "Oh. Yes, actually. Not nearly as well as Lia does." They were practically family to her, after all. "But they're from Kirkwall. Sort of. Ithilian's Fereldan, I think, and Amalia used to be a Qunari. She helped train the Lions in hand-to-hand, back when we started." She set her spoon down atop the bowl she'd been loaned. "I'm glad you ran into them; it had been a while since anyone knew where they were. I'm not sure why they left Kirkwall, but I suppose it must have had something to do with this."
With Marcus. If so, it was quite the coincidence. Estella had learned to expect those, though. Especially when it came to people from that time in her life. Even the ones she hadn't known as well, it seemed.
Releasing a sigh, she shook her head. It was only fair to provide the updates from her side as well. "Things... didn't go very well, with the Red Templars." She supposed the bandages were a decent indication of that, and the general mood of the camp. "They had hostages, like we thought, but... they killed them first. We couldn't save any of them. The only one I could get out of there died from his wounds. Leon's collapsed, and we lost several templars as well." She pulled in a breath, trying to focus on something besides the memory of the screams and the blood. It wasn't the easiest thing, not when it reminded her of more. But he helped, just by being there.
"So I'm... happy for this, at least."
"I heard," Ves said, sadly. "A scout caught us up on our way here from the Inquisition camp. I'm sorry." He settled a hand atop the back of Estella's chair, gently resting his thumb and a few fingers against the middle of her back. "We'll find a way to beat them." He was good at injecting confidence into his words, and it was fairly obvious that he was doing that now. Though beating the Red Templars was more simple of an issue than how to avoid the cost it would take in innocent lives, given the way they'd proven they were willing to fight.
"But for now," he narrowed his eyes at the newcomers. "A Fereldan Dalish, and a Qunari? And they're from Kirkwall?" He tilted his head, the pieces of information clearly not adding up. "I suppose stranger things have happened."
"It was a very unusual place, back then," Estella said, lifting her shoulders slightly. Maybe it was still unusual, but she wouldn't know anymore, now that it had been practically gutted of anyone she knew to any decent degree. Some of the Lions were still there, Havard and Idris and the others. And of course Sophia and Ashton were there, but that was about it. Everyone else had dispersed. The Inquisition was about the closest she thought she'd ever come to finding so many very different people so closely associated ever again.
Hopefully this, too, would turn out for the better, in the end.
The hostage she'd pulled from the fight hadn't managed to survive. She couldn't help but feel that was her fault. If she'd been faster in recovering from the initial shock of the lyrium's proximity, she would not have needed to waste any time trying to fend off that templar. She could have simply grabbed the poor man and moved. If she'd been steadier with her healing spells, she'd have been able to clot his wounds fast enough to stop him from bleeding out. But despite the fact that swiftness and steadiness were her relative strengths, she had failed on both counts. And now all the hostages were dead. Innocent people, snuffed out for reasons she could scarcely understand.
It wasn't, unfortunately, an unfamiliar feeling. She'd just hoped she'd never have to deal with it again. A naïve hope, all things considered, but one she'd still clung to. One she'd needed. In the end, all that poor man had been able to say was that he was kidnapped from a nearby village, forced to handle red lyrium at some unknown location, and then shipped off with it to a destination he also didn't have any knowledge of. And then he'd expired under her hands, and with him, the last chance that this whole excursion would even have any good result. Three of their own templars had died, another five had taken nearly-fatal injuries. She had no idea what kind of state Leon was in, only that he and to some extent Séverine really needed a better healer than she was. For now, he was at least stable, but still unconscious.
As it turned out, the confrontation had drawn the attention of another group, apparently refugees fled from another small settlement. One of those in the group had been the hostage's cousin or kinsman of some sort, and so the Inquisition had stopped to help them recover the rest of the bodies as well, in case anyone else was familiar. After the red lyrium had been moved out, of course. Now they were back at the refugees' campsite, for the moment. It was as good a place to wait for the others as any, and Signy had been dispatched back to the first forward camp to guide them here when they returned.
They were being fed, actually; it seemed the refugees had been located here long enough to have both devised good gathering systems and trade with the Dalish for at least some things. Estella thought it was awfully generous of them to be offering to feed guests considering their situation, but when the Inquisition's rations were added into the lot, there was more than enough to go around. She sat herself down next to Lia and Zee with a small plate, unsure she'd be able to stomach it but knowing quite well that she needed to try. Corona, the apparent leader of the refugee group, staffed the large stewpot, handing out bowls of hot food to the templars and her people alike. It was a bit of an eclectic group, almost as if the entirety of a small town had packed up and moved together. Estella wouldn't be too surprised if that were the case, given the circumstances.
Zahra kept relatively quiet after they’d returned. She’d already wolfed down her bowlful of stew, though it was apparent that she’d done so in a weak attempt to keep herself busy. Spatters of blood stained her leathers, and would need a scrubbing once they were allowed the luxury of doing so. The slice across her cheek had been tended to as best they could manage, wrapped in a clean bandage that wound across her head and into her hair.
She sat at Stel’s elbow and occasionally glanced her way. There was a sense that there was something she wanted to say. Her mouth had opened; once or twice, before resolutely shutting. Instead, she gently patted her back and turned away, busying herself by dragging the wooden spoon at the bottom of her empty bowl.
Lia swallowed a spoonful of soup next to her. She was covered in a layer of dried sweat and grime, as they all were. There hadn't been any time or opportunity to properly clean up before they were on the move again, but at she hadn't needed to deal with any blood, her own or otherwise. She didn't seem in high spirits, but that was hardly surprising.
Glancing over, she noted the bloodied bandage over the arrow wound Estella had taken during the fight. "Hey, Stel, make sure Asala takes a look at that when they get back sometime, okay?" It wasn't phrased as a command or even advice, but instead just the concern of a friend.
Estella glanced down at it; honestly, she'd all but forgotten it was there. Now that she remembered it, though, she noticed that it hurt, and grimaced a bit before nodding. It wasn't intolerable, but it would be pointless to set herself up for an infection—there was no way her battlefield solution had been completely sanitary. Not when she'd been nearly elbow-deep in the hostage's blood, trying to keep it in his body.
She closed her eyes for a moment and saw fire. Blinking them open quickly, she gave Lia a small nod. “I will. Thanks." She tried a small bite of the stew and found it quite tasty for what it was, but decided to wait a bit before trying another, to make sure the first stayed down.
It left her wanting a distraction of some kind. Fortunately, Corona had just finished serving everyone else and was now holding her own meal. When her eyes met Estella's, she brightened a bit and made her way over to sit with the small group. "Lady Inquisitor. I hope I'm not intruding?"
Estella shook her head. “Of course not. It's your camp, after all. We're the intruders."
The refugee woman smiled, deepening the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and mouth. The pattern suggested she'd smiled a lot in her life. Estella was almost jealous of them. She suspected that hers would one day look very different, but pushed the thought from her mind hastily. “It's a nice setup you have here. Relatively speaking, I mean." It was, in a sense. The refugees had made their home in a small network of caves and short cliffsides, allowing them some protection from the dangers that wandered outside. Clearly, they'd been present long enough to have made parts of the settlement almost permanent as well. The waterfall she could hear faintly roaring in the distance likely kept them from the perils of thirst quite easily.
Fortunately, Corona seemed disinclined to take the comment the wrong way, instead nodding a few times in agreement. "It is. It's not Vannes, of course, but... home is where the right people are. And with luck, we won't be here forever."
“Was it the war that pushed you out?" Estella carefully took a second bite of her stew.
"Mhm." Corona's expression darkened for a moment, and she shook her head. "Damned fools. It's not like any of us care who wears the crown. It's all the same, in the end. But when that bloody Game gets played out on our doorsteps... we didn't have much choice. We were supposed to end up in Arlesans, but that fell through."
Arlesans? Estella sat up a little straighter. “Fell through how?"
"They stopped writing us back. The Lady's son, it was. Everything was fine until about a year ago, then nothing."
Well, Estella knew exactly why that was. “He ran into some trouble of his own," she explained softly. “But it should be resolved soon; I'm sure you'll be hearing from him again. In the meantime, is there anything you need? We should be able to help a little, if there's something we can do."
Corona thought on that for a moment, then sighed through her nose. "Short of ending the war and scrubbing those damned Freemen off the map, I'm not sure there's anything to be done. We make do, for supplies. But life would be easier if we could go back home, or to Arlesans. Somewhere to put down roots again."
Soon after, the sound of footfalls alerted them to new arrivals in the camp. Ves was the first to come into view, still clad in his armor besides his helmet, leading a group that was larger by a few than the one they'd set out with. Khari, Cyrus, and Asala were behind him, a few bloodstains on them but none of which appeared to be their own. The two that followed behind them were people Estella had not seen in a very long time, but they were a hard pair to forget.
Lia nearly choked on a mouthful beside her, suddenly almost panicking as she tried to shove her chair back, only for it to catch on the rock beneath her. When she stood she bumped the table and spilled part of her soup, and then the chair clattered onto its back behind her, but she was already sliding away from it, holding out her hands apologetically. "Sorry, I'm sorry!" And then she was off, her eyes lit up, sprinting across the distance and throwing herself at Ithilian, who looked stunned by a spell for a moment before he wrapped his arms around her as well. They exchanged words, or rather, Lia drowned out anything Ithilian could say, speaking incessantly and unintelligibly from Estella's distance into his shoulder, blinking through rapidly forming tears.
Ves observed the spectacle for a moment with a mixture of bewilderment and amusement, before he spied Estella and made his way over to the table, winding around to scoop up the chair Lia had tipped over, putting it back upright and sinking down into it next to her. He pulled off his gloves, still watching the unexpected reunion. "Well. I'm glad someone found something pleasant here."
Estella was quite surprised herself, but of course she hadn't been nearly as close with the newcomers as Lia was. The Inquisitor dabbed at the spilled soup with a cloth and an apologetic smile to Corona, who shrugged and waved a hand.
"Don't mind it, dear. I'll take care of it later." She excused herself with a small smile, leaving Ves, Estella, and Zahra to themselves. The others seemed to be settling around the camp, though she made brief eye contact with Cyrus before he disappeared. A brief check, confirmation of life. She'd have to talk to him later.
For now, though, she moved her attention to Ves instead. Turning a bit in her chair, she let her knee settle against his when they brushed. After the difficulty her group had run into... she'd worried about the others, too, but he seemed all right. The knot in the pit of her stomach loosened a little. "How on earth did you run into Ithilian and Amalia?" she asked, a smile pulling at her mouth almost despite herself. Whatever the case, it seemed much more likely to be a good story than the one she had to tell. The one she was avoiding so much as thinking about, for the moment.
"Ambushes on top of ambushes in this forest," he answered, exhaling heavily and setting his helm down on the table. He ran his hands through his mass of hair. "The Venatori set one for us in the ruins, and those two let us walk into it. Then they ambushed the Venatori. Would've preferred if they'd asked us first, but I can understand why they didn't." He watched as Lia finally broke the hug with Ithilian and turned to Amalia. She wasn't nearly as aggressive with her touch there, simply laying a hand on the older woman's shoulder, but her smile was just as broad.
"They've been hunting the Venatori leader for some time, that Magister Alesius," Ves explained. "I tried not to pry, but it's pretty obviously personal. We convinced them to take a look at the Inquisition." He had a hint of a smile as well, when he saw how suddenly soft the battered old elf became around Lia. "Glad we did. Seems they have friends here." He seemed to realize something, and turned to look at Estella. "You know them too?"
Estella watched the almost-invisible smile touch Amalia's mouth, then turned back to Vesryn. "Oh. Yes, actually. Not nearly as well as Lia does." They were practically family to her, after all. "But they're from Kirkwall. Sort of. Ithilian's Fereldan, I think, and Amalia used to be a Qunari. She helped train the Lions in hand-to-hand, back when we started." She set her spoon down atop the bowl she'd been loaned. "I'm glad you ran into them; it had been a while since anyone knew where they were. I'm not sure why they left Kirkwall, but I suppose it must have had something to do with this."
With Marcus. If so, it was quite the coincidence. Estella had learned to expect those, though. Especially when it came to people from that time in her life. Even the ones she hadn't known as well, it seemed.
Releasing a sigh, she shook her head. It was only fair to provide the updates from her side as well. "Things... didn't go very well, with the Red Templars." She supposed the bandages were a decent indication of that, and the general mood of the camp. "They had hostages, like we thought, but... they killed them first. We couldn't save any of them. The only one I could get out of there died from his wounds. Leon's collapsed, and we lost several templars as well." She pulled in a breath, trying to focus on something besides the memory of the screams and the blood. It wasn't the easiest thing, not when it reminded her of more. But he helped, just by being there.
"So I'm... happy for this, at least."
"I heard," Ves said, sadly. "A scout caught us up on our way here from the Inquisition camp. I'm sorry." He settled a hand atop the back of Estella's chair, gently resting his thumb and a few fingers against the middle of her back. "We'll find a way to beat them." He was good at injecting confidence into his words, and it was fairly obvious that he was doing that now. Though beating the Red Templars was more simple of an issue than how to avoid the cost it would take in innocent lives, given the way they'd proven they were willing to fight.
"But for now," he narrowed his eyes at the newcomers. "A Fereldan Dalish, and a Qunari? And they're from Kirkwall?" He tilted his head, the pieces of information clearly not adding up. "I suppose stranger things have happened."
"It was a very unusual place, back then," Estella said, lifting her shoulders slightly. Maybe it was still unusual, but she wouldn't know anymore, now that it had been practically gutted of anyone she knew to any decent degree. Some of the Lions were still there, Havard and Idris and the others. And of course Sophia and Ashton were there, but that was about it. Everyone else had dispersed. The Inquisition was about the closest she thought she'd ever come to finding so many very different people so closely associated ever again.
Hopefully this, too, would turn out for the better, in the end.