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"Varric, Varric!!" Harding hissed as she dropped from the rock ledge above the Dredgeman Village's Camp. The moss dampened her fall but she still feared it might've been too loud.
Varric looked up, "What is it, Lace?" He was probably writing a missive to Leliana or something.
She clenched and unclenched her fists. "There's a crap-ton of Darkspawn heading toward Dredgeman's Village! They're gonna overwhelm them; the villagers and the Grey Wardens both."
"Grey Wardens, you say. How many? Maybe it's not as bad as it seems. Just one can take out quite a few Darkspawn by themselves."
"Only a squad, and it sounded like they're fresh. Their commander just left for Weisshaupt on a griffon."
"Just recruits? Damn it, they're gonna get crushed. Think we can get 'em out in time?"
"Not unless the Paragons themselves or Andraste herself comes down. We have to do something."
The older Rogue scratched at his beard. "Come on, show me this horde. We can pick some off if nothing else."
They ascended the rock and stepped into the Deep Roads' entrance. Water dripped on her shoulder as she stepped forward while a sliver of moonlight fell on the crumbled remnants of a long-forgotten Thaig from above. She pointed to the far side of the Thaig where a blacker than black swathe of shadows swarmed toward the underside of Dredgeman's Village. Once again the stench of the Blight was so thick that it made her choke. If she'd been Uncle Denez, if she'd had Stone Sense, she could've told Varrick if there was another cave they could drop some of them into via one of Varrick's explosive bolts but she wasn't, she couldn't. Normally, it didn't bother her but now? Now it really did. All those people would fall like chaff to the Darkspawn.
Hsss.
A hail of flarolts left Bianca's shaft in a wide arc. Seconds later, they exploded into reddish-yellow fireballs.
"Shit." Varrick breathed as hundreds and hundreds of Darkspawn became visible. The flares faded away.
Diagonally above them a torch appeared then disappeared.
Ba-boom-boom-boom.
Instinctively, she pulled Varric back into the passageway as the section of the Deep Roads across from them collapsed. Her teeth rattled and the walls shook while farmhouse-sized chunks of ceiling fell onto the encroaching Darkspawn. In the midst of it all there was even, her brows furrowed, was that a building? Yes, yes, it was. A large building plummeted into the Deep Roads. The building's impact caused an enormous cacophony before the rocks that'd previously held it up smashed down onto it and sealed up the hole. While she'd never been very religious, she still heard herself whisper. "Maker preserve us."
"Well, He sure must like this village if nothing else. Let's hoof it before they start sniffing around, Harding."
Grateful, she led him back out. They sealed that entrance too, for safety's sake.
Ten minutes later...
Harding sighed in relief as they finally reached the entrance of Dredgeman's Village. People milled in front of a gaping hole or surrounded the Wardens. A Qunari with black swept-back horns and twin braids towered head-and-shoulders above the primarily human villagers, she wore a set of the Wardens' blue and silver leathers.
Varrick waved to catch the Qunari's attention and she maneuvered out of the crowd.
"Are you two travellers, do you need help? I'm Grey Warden Bira Thorne."
"I'm Verric Tethras. I suppose, in a way, we are travellers. We were down in the Deep Roads, that was quite the stunt you just pulled. I can guarantee your superior won't be happy and we could use a woman of your talents. We're trying to track down an old friend of ours who can be, let's say...intense at the best of times."
Warden Thorne shifted her weight from foot to foot. "Well, Master Tethras-,"
"Call me Varric, please."
"Varrick, then. That sounds like a good idea but I can't exactly leave. We were supposed to wait for reinforcements, and now we have to go back."
"That's fine. Harding, why don't you fill in the Warden on our current camp? She can meet us there."
"Of course, Varric." She nodded as the other dwarf went to survey the damage or rather lack of damage. "I'm Scout Harding, it's nice to meet you, Warden Thorne."
"You too, Scout Harding. So, what's this about a camp and a...friend?" The pale Qunari raised an eyebrow.
As much as she could disclose in public, she explained how Solas'd been in the area a few weeks ago. The encampment was far more straight-forward. "It's just 10 minutes up the road, behind that funny apple-shaped rock."
Thorne chuckled, "That's what I thought too when I saw it. The First Warden said I was being childish when I told 'em."
"Someone always does say that, don't they? My uncle Dennez doesn't even know what an apple tastes like. He says he'd rather starve, that he wouldn't touch one if it was the last piece of food in all of Orzammar."
"And he said you were being childish?"
"Yep."
"Wow. Hey, did you want to get a drink, Harding? You look a bit peaked."
"I sure could use one."
They headed to the Silver Dredge; the bar wasn't much more than a double-wide shed with a bar top and a shelf behind it. A single lantern hung from a hook, which the Warden had to duck as she entered. Fresh straw lay strewn across the floor and the scent caused nostalgia to hit her like a, well, like a Darkspawn. How she'd spent hours curled up in the stuff with Bizzy and Dara, her favourites among their flock of sheep. Ah. She'd be sipping from a bottle of some terrible cider, reading an equally terrible novel and dreaming of having her own adventures. Most of the time she'd wake up the next morning being nice and warm but with an awful hangover, a book on her face and a stiff neck. Those'd been the days. Sometimes she missed the simplicity of farm life so much it made her want to run home and never leave. Yet Inquisitor Lavellan and the rest of Thedas were counting on her to help Verrick find Solas. They weren't that far behind him anymore. Maybe once this whole Dread Wolf thing was over she could be home for good. It was only six months until shearing/calving season. It couldn't take that long now, right?
Warden Thorne's left eye was a rich honey-brown, the right a deep green. They were gorgeous.
"You good, Harding? You faded out there a bit." Warden Thorne frowned down at her.
Even in all her novels, she'd never heard of someone having two differently coloured eyes. Her ears suddenly felt hot as a forge and she resisted the urge to clear her throat. "Yeah, I'm fine, thank you. What've you got, Barkeep?"
"Got a bottle of Kirkwall Wine 8:90 Blessed. Let ya have it free since you're with the Warden."
The night turned to a pleasant haze; she awakened in her tent. Confused and bleary, she blinked. Impulsively, she reached out to lay her hand on the spot beside her. It was cooling. Her memories came back lazy as Dara meandering back into the barn from laying in the sun. Once she'd dressed, she stumbled out of her tent. Groaned and shaded her eyes from the sun's glare.
Varric sat on a log, he was tuning Bianca like he usually did. "Morning, Lace. Scrambled some eggs if you want 'em, on the rock there." He gestured to the boulder beside her tent.
"Thanks, Varric." The mention of food made her eye him. "You don't usually make me breakfast. What's with that?"
"Yeah, well, I figured it ain't often one of us mounts the griffon."
"I suppose. You aren't going to tell the Inquisitor, are you?"
"Oh, no no. That's between you and her. Eat up, I wanna make sure those Darkspawn aren't going to pop out from that old mine out to the south."
Harding didn't usually start her relationships by sleeping with someone but it wasn't the worst way ever. After all, she'd nearly shot Solas the first time she'd met him.
Maybe she should've done it all things considered now.