New Friends and Old Wounds
The world seemed wider after leaving the Brecilian Forest—no thick canopy of leaves blotted out the sun, and the wide, dusty road to Denerim stretched ahead of them instead of a twisted path through gnarled trees. Brenna was glad to leave the forest behind and the ancient hatred that had stained it. She tried not to think of Zathrian and his “justice”, but her fears whispered to her. How far would she go to seek retribution against the templars of Kinloch Hold? As far as Uldred’s bloody rebellion? As far as Zathrian’s centuries-long curse?
Brenna wanted to believe she was better than that, but the whispers persisted.
Sten and Shale kept watch at the front of the group—most bandits thought twice about attacking a stone golem and a Qunari warrior. The others trailed behind, with Brenna, Leliana, and Ser Cullen Barksalot bringing up the rear. Leliana had been quiet since they encountered a group of assassins at the forest’s edge who had been sent by Marjolaine.
“So...you mentioned you had a son? What happened to him?” Alistair asked.
Brenna stumbled as the road seemed to fall out from under her, and Leliana caught her arm to steady her. She nodded in thanks to Leliana and gulped a calming breath. Brenna’s gaze snapped to Alistair—he had dropped back and walked beside Wynne.
Wynne, ever the soul of patience, simply shrugged. “I honestly don't know, Alistair. He was taken from me. Such births are seldom, as there are ways to prevent it, but it does happen. And any child born to a circle mage belongs to the chantry.”
Morrigan turned, always ready to voice her disdain for the Circle of Magi, and Brenna shot her a glare and a sharp shake of her head. Morrigan scowled but remained silent.
“I didn't know,” Alistair said. “I'm sorry.”
“It's all right.” Wynne amiably patted his shoulder, though the gesture seemed a bit off considering his muddy, bloodstained plate armor. “It was a long time ago. A very long time ago.”
“Couldn't you do something about it?”
“Do what? I was weak from the birthing process and there were...no, there was nothing I could do.”
Brenna swallowed hard as sorrow and dust constricted her throat.
“Do you think about him?” Alistair asked.
“All the time.”
***
“The one thing I wanted but could never have.” Cole appeared at her side, and Brenna shot him a dry glance.
The spirit had caught her brooding as she sat in the shade of a supply wagon. The caravan had paused for a midday rest to water the horses and was readying to resume the march to Haven. They weren’t far now—two, maybe three days, and she shared the templars’ nerves.
After leaving the Crossroads she was certain that Leliana and Cullen knew that she traveled with her templar pups. She had no intention of accompanying them to Haven, but seeing the extent of the Inquisition’s influence at the Crossroads had given her new worries. The crown couldn’t afford to ignore the upstart organization—the Inquisition was expanding at an alarming rate. She could gain valuable information about their strength and numbers if she visited Haven...provided they didn’t arrest her like they had Varric.
“You worry that the Knight and the Nightingale won’t want to be with you and your Crow.”
“Well first I’m worried that they’ll arrest me thanks to that damn bounty, but aside from that…” She sighed and shook her head. “Things are different. Leliana didn’t mind before, but now she’s the Left Hand of the Divine. She might as well be married to the Maker. And Cullen...I don’t know.”
The safest course would be to return to Denerim, disappear back into cover personas and pretend that this never happened. Brenna accepted that pursuing the mage rebellion meant that there was no place in her life for Leliana and Cullen due to their ties to the chantry.
“How are our templars faring?” she asked.
“They’re afraid of the future. They only know how to be templars, and they are disordered without the Order—distracted, disillusioned, depressed.”
“Understood.” The pups would adjust, but it would take time. It helped that the templars at Sanctuary had a purpose—building a better Order that worked with mages as equals. The pups would need to find their new purpose within the Inquisition.
“Let me know if anything changes. I’m going to scout ahead.” She shifted and the crow took flight, and she cawed loudly so Ser Barris and Knight-Lieutenant Hayes would know her whereabouts.
The group had encountered the usual dangers of the road—bandits, bears, wolves, and the occasional demon that had wandered away from a rift. They avoided the rifts, for they had no way to close them, but the number of rifts they encountered was concerning. She had been cataloging their locations for Alistair and Anora, but the problem was clearly more widespread than she had estimated.
The crow soared over the treetops and kept a sharp eye out for trouble. The road ahead was blessedly clear and she was about to turn back when a woman’s scream caught her attention. She turned toward the sound and discovered a small battle to the side of the road. A woman crouched behind a group of rocks, and on the other side an armored figure stood against three red templars. Brave soul—he was outnumbered, and Brenna decided to increase his odds.
The crow dove behind the corrupted templars and she shifted back to her natural form. She buried both daggers into the spine of the largest beast—no simple feat considering the jagged spikes of red lyrium that jutted from its shoulders—and it crumpled to the ground. She stunned the others with a mind blast spell, and as they reeled from the magical blow their intended victim helped her drop the rest.
“Stay your hand,” she said. “I’m not your enemy.”
“Who are you?” He eyed her warily and held his sword at the ready. He had the bronze skin of an Antivan and he was young, perhaps the same age as many of her templar pups. His mismatched armor also seemed to be made of templar pieces. Either he had left the Order or he had scavenged the pieces from fallen knights.
“Brenna Amell.” She sheathed her daggers and folded her hands before nudging one of the bodies with her boot. “I encountered these creatures at Therinfal Redoubt. I’m surprised to find them so far from there.”
“Neran?” The woman called, her voice uncertain.
“Is that your lady?” Brenna asked.
“That is my wife, Ellisia.” Neran spoke with a Marcher’s accent, perhaps from Ostwick, and he straightened as though daring her to correct him. “The strange knights fell upon us while we traveled on the king’s road.”
“Go to her. I want to check these louts to see if they’re carrying any useful information.” She doubted that they would be so fortunate, considering that the papers she had taken from Therinfal had proved useless.
When she approached Neran and Ellisia she discovered two things—first, his wife was a mage, and second, she was very pregnant.
“Maker’s breath, when are you due?”
“Soon.” Ellisia smiled weakly as she placed a protective hand over her swollen belly. She was willowy and fine-boned, with olive skin and short-cropped dark hair. “We…” she paused and lowered her voice, “we are seeking Sanctuary. Do you know the way?”
“Yes, I do, though I wouldn’t mention that to my traveling companions. I can take you there after I see the pups to their new home.”
“Pups?” Neran asked.
“I rescued a small group of templars from Therinfal Redoubt and I’m leading them to join the Inquisition. We are much closer to Haven than we are to Sanctuary, so I’ll see them off first.” Escorting the couple to Sanctuary would ensure that she avoided accompanying the templars all the way to Haven and seeing Cullen and Leliana.
The pair exchanged a worried look. “We were in the same Circle of Magi in the Free Marches,” Neran said. “Will we be safe with them?”
“You’ll be safe with me. I serve the Fereldan crown, and that puts you under the protection of their majesties. They have sheltered several apostates at court. Here, let’s meet up with the caravan. We’ll get you on a wagon and off your feet.”
She whistled sharply when they reached the road and Ser Aveline Sharptooth and Knight-Lieutenant Hayes both came running ahead.
“What happened?” Ser Hayes asked.
“Red templars,” Brenna said. “They attacked this couple as they were traveling.”
“Here?” Her eyes widened and she cursed under her breath. “They couldn’t have come from Therinfal.”
“I know. We’ll need to keep our guard up, increase the watch.” Brenna motioned to the lead wagon as it rolled into view. “Our new friends are going to travel with us for now, so let’s make them comfortable.”
***
Brenna watched the couple from a distance as they sat beside the campfire. A few of the pups had taken to her new charges, and she wondered if those templars had had sweethearts in their circles. There were countless tragic love stories of mages and templars—something she knew about all too well.
She snorted and shook her head. Neran and Ellisia wouldn’t be the first mage and templar couple at Sanctuary, simply the most recent additions to her flock. They also wouldn’t be the first new parents—several mages had given birth since Sanctuary was founded.
“Dark lashes, eyes that would never open,” Cole said. “Still, silent, secret.”
Brenna flinched as Cole reopened that old wound and awakened the grief that came with it. The Fereldan circle had assumed that Cullen was the father of her child, though that was complete rubbish. Cullen had never laid a hand on her, which was one of the many reasons she adored him. She knew the child was Knight-Commander Greagoir’s because she had been his current “favorite” when she conceived. Not the first of his bastards, and probably not the last. He had been reassigned a year or so after the end of the Blight.
Brenna had nearly died in childbirth because Knight-Commander Greagoir refused to send for a midwife, and without a midwife’s aid the child was stillborn.
“I never should have told Anders what happened,” she said. “If he hadn’t known, he might not have destroyed half of Kirkwall to keep Hawke safe.”
“But he had to know.” Cole fidgeted beside her, his head bent and his face hidden by the wide brim of his oversized hat. “You had to tell him so someone else would remember the truth. Would know that there was a child you loved and lost.”
She nodded as her throat tightened and her eyes stung. She hadn’t realized how much she had wanted her son until he was gone.
“I could help you forget,” Cole offered. “To ease the hurt.”
“No. I need this hurt. I need to make sure that no mage suffers as I did. To build a new world where couples like Neran and Ellisia can raise their family in safety.”
“Sanctuary.”
“Precisely. They deserve to be happy.”
“So do you.”
Brenna opened her mouth to reply that she was happy, but then she paused. Content might be more accurate—she was happy when she was with Zevran, but her tasks for Anora often kept her from him. After Kirkwall she had struck a bargain with Alistair and Anora: she would serve them as their agent, and in return they would grant a portion of Fereldan land to be used as sanctuary for her mages. She never regretted that decision, but some days…
Some days she wished for a quiet life. No intrigue, no assassinations, no battles, just time spent with her family.
Brenna shrugged. “I’m like you. I help other people find happiness. That’s what heroes do.”