For what was probably the fourth time, Nostariel wiped down the counter at the front of the clinic. The medicines had been alphabetized twice, every last particle of dust mercilessly swept from any and all surfaces, and sheād washed the floor as well. At this point, it wasnāt just that she wanted it to be clean when she came backāit was that she was nervous enough that she needed to give herself something to do with her hands. It wasnāt exactly that she anticipated refusal on the part of those sheād asked here, more that when they agreed, sheād be pulling back the curtain on the part of her life that shamed her the most to people she held in very high esteem. The highest she knew, really. There were others she held in the same esteem, that she would have asked as readily, but the task was of a very particular kind, and she knew that there would be few suited for or willing to deal with it.
Closing her eyes and stilling her movement, Nostariel took a deep breath, and exhaled it in the form of a sigh. There was no use in fretting. Sheād been feeling the strain as the days grew closer, and their faces had been more frequent in her dreams as they always were at this time of year, and it was, as it had always been, enough to disturb some of the measure of peace sheād been able to find for herself. There were still things undone, tasks incomplete, and until she finished them, she would never truly be able to let that part of her life go. She no longer blamed herself as much as she once had, but that didnāt change what she had to do to find closure with it.
Folding the cleaning cloth neatly, she added it to the stack of linens that sheād need to wash before she departed and nodded to herself. It was about the appointed timeāshe wouldnāt be waiting much longer.
The clinic was not far at all from the Alienage, so it was unsurprising that Ithilian was the first to arrive. His days had become busy of late, what with the stream of elven refugees that had poured into the Alienage without warning not long ago. They had made accomodations for them as best they could, and all of the children had been taken in and given priority, but sadly there simply wasn't room for everyone, and some of them chose to test their luck in Lowtown and Darktown rather than remain. Ithilian hoped he would not have to kill them at a later date, for whatever reason.
The work was never ending, but Ithilian was still more than willing to make time to see Nostariel, who had asked him for help and requested his presence at her clinic at this hour. He arrived armed, as it was quite common that when his help was requested, some form of killing would need to be done. He was not particularly sure how he should have felt about that. It was simply what he excelled at; he could choose to use his skills to further whatever goals he desired. In this case, helping a valued friend and ally.
He entered the clinic with his head uncovered, as had become the norm for him. Amalia had convinced him that the scars were not worth hiding, and he had not covered his face since then. Amalia seemed to have taken his words to heart as well. He was unsure if he was comfortable describing what her company meant to him. To have it healed again, to have a bond that was only growing in strength. Things could have turned out much differently at any number of points. But they had not.
"Good morning," he said, mustering up his ability to speak pleasantly. As far as Ithilian understood, there would be others arriving, so he pulled up a chair and took a seat, setting his bow across his lap.
Lucien felt better in full plate than he did in the lighter leather armor heād worn for the mission aboard the boat, but it would have been stupid of him to wear too much metal then. Now, however, he had the intention of keeping his feet on land for a while, and he could conceive of no likely scenario in which what Nostariel planned to ask of him would involve more short jaunts on the ocean, so plate it was. Adjusting the straps that held his axe to his back, he bid farewell to the small refugee family that was currently residing in his spare room and headed over to the clinic. It was perhaps not something he would have ordinarily done, as Lucien was a man who rather valued his space to think and work, but between the fact that most days he spent either at the barracks or out on jobs and the fact that they had literally nowhere else to go, heād decided that clearing out his half-done art and stowing it in his own sleeping area was a tiny sacrifice to make. He found he didnāt mind the companyāthe familyās young son had a wicked sense of humor, and they were generally pleasant to be around.
He wondered how the rest were faringāit was not like there had been much time to take down names and faces when they were all climbing onto rowboats. He had a sneaking suspicion that Amalia had directed those three to him; perhaps they had mentioned someone of suspicious size and sheād put the pieces together. If so, heād have to thank her for the forethought.
He wasn't sure exactly what Nostariel planned on asking him, only that she had been somewhat solemn in requesting his presence, and therefore it was probably not anything so simple as his services in moving large objects from one place to another. That was fine by himāhe always had the time for a friend. Or at least, he tried to be that kind of person. Tugging open the door, he noted that she was in fact already present, and so was Ithilian. Lucien had never actually had more than a snippet of conversation with the man, but for all that, he knew a fair amount about him. They shared several mutual friends and acquaintances, after all. āHello Nostariel, Ithilian,ā he offered cordially, choosing to stand rather than sit, mainly because heād been sitting for half the morning already, at a worktable.
He took a little longer than those who had arrived before him, but he had a good reason for his tardiness. Ashton spent the better part of his morning breaking in a new hire, an adolescent elf who was rooming with the resident Chevalier. While Ashton didn't make it readily apparent to the boy he knew who his roommate was, there were only so many people who fit Lucien's description, and literally none that would share a house with an elven family. Truth be told, Ashton felt a little guilty about that, but considering the alternative he could live with a smidge more guilt. He would mention it to Lucien, and explain he'd keep an eye on the boy as well. He was responsible for the recent influx of refugees, the least he could do was see to it they were okay.
Ashton wasn't expecting a new hire when he walked through the doors of the Dragon's Hideout, but there he was, face down into the floorboards and little Lia sitting on his back. At some point the boy, named Callan, had entered and tried to make off with a bit of merchandise, but not before Lia wrestled him to the ground. Even Snuffy did her part, planting herself right in front of the boy's head and growled whenever he attempted to move. He was then explained the situation, and Ashton, the good samaritan he was, offered the boy a job on the spot. He'd spent the rest of the morning training the boy, and when he had to leave and meet Nostariel, he left the boy in Lia's capable, though young hands. He wasn't really worried about her-- With all the time she spent with Ithilian, he'd put money on her before Callan.
Unlike those who'd beat him to the clinic, Ashton came far less armed. He wore only a soft shirt and tan pants, and carried only his machete. Even Snuffy was brought along, as she walked beside him. He entered the clinic and found himself woefully underdressed, with Lucien sporting his full plate and Ithilian his many pointy... instruments. He spared a glance for Snuffy before he spoke, "Uh... Did I miss part of the message? Are we killing something?" He felt terribly inadequate as he stood in front of these warriors.
āIām afraid so,ā Nostariel replied, her voice heavy with some old weight. It hadnāt been so in quite some time, but this time of year always did that to her. It was a persistent reminder. She at last took an actual seat and leaned forward so that her elbows hit her knees and her arms dangled in the empty space in front of them, one hand clasping the opposite wrist. āThoughā¦ thatās not really the point. Perhaps itās best if I explain everything from the beginning.ā Wellā¦ everything would take rather a long time, but she could give them the important parts, anyway.
āAlmost five years ago now, before I was posted in Kirkwall, I led a small squad of Wardens into the Deep Roads. It was the same year the Blight descended upon Ferelden, but of course, that happened so quickly, and the word didnāt reach us in time, so we had no way to knowā¦ā She paused, running a hand down her face and sitting back in her chair. Lucien knew this story already, and she knew that by now, the other two had been able to guess at parts of it, but the telling wasnāt really any easier yet. She hoped that, when this task was over, it would be, just a little. She never wanted it to be simple, but if she could get through it without this crushing feeling of shameā¦ that might be better.
āThere were so many, and so close to the surface. I sent our runner for reinforcements, but there was no way theyād arrive in enough time. We had to hold the entrance, and we were overwhelmed. My squadā¦ all of them died. I only had time to burn the bodies before I left, but they never had real funerals. Not ones that I was present for. I needā¦ I need to go back down into the Roads. I want to see if thereās anything of them still down there, and if there is, I want to retrieve it. And I wantā¦ I want to send them off properlyā¦ in the ways they deserved.ā She looked down at her hands. āItās notā¦ itās a big risk, for something that probably doesn't matter. Theyāre dead; they have been for half a decade. It might be foolish to risk our lives to give a funeral, to collect trinkets that might not even be there in the first place, butā¦ itās something Iād like to do. Something I must do. And thatās why Iām asking the three of you.ā She wouldnāt hold it against them if they didnāt come, but there were only two more people sheād ever ask, and she didnāt want to drag both the Alienageās protectors away, nor remove Aurora from her friend. It was not even an option to ask the Viscountās daughter into the Deep Roads, so it was these three or nobody at all.
And she wanted them there, she knew. They were her friends. And if anyone could help her bear her shame here, reach her closure and lay her memories to rest, then it was they.
Ithilian slowly released a long breath through his nostrils as Nostariel explained. What was perhaps most unfortunate was that Nostariel had not had the chance deal with this any earlier, thus forcing her to simply carry the weight in the meantime. Even when they had traveled to the Deep Roads before there would have been no time, as the dwarves leading them had no time or patience for delays and detours. Ithilian knew what that weight could do to a mind if it was given even an inch of room to work. It wormed its way through the thickest walls on silent nights, when the images of the real world were replaced by the ones the mind conjured of its own accord. It could only be ignored for so long. Replacing the shame with the distraction of toil was only a temporary solution.
"It does matter, and it is not foolish," he said, with a high degree of certainty in his voice. "I know the Deep Roads are not the Brecilian Forest, but returning to the site of those I lost was one of the things I needed most to... fix myself." The danger would be far greater, that much was certain, but they had survived the Deep Roads before even with the odds arrayed against them. They could do so again, and if the memory of that place haunted Nostariel as much as Ithilian's own demons had troubled him, she would remember the area like she had been there yesterday.
"A small, experienced group such as ourselves can move quickly and without an excess of noise, though your nature as a Warden may attract some unwanted attention." He leaned forward in his chair, running a hand through his hair. "I'll need a few days to prepare. Time enough to make arrangements in the Alienage, and with Amalia. We've been under some extra strain of late, as I'm sure you are aware." The unscarred corner of his lips quirked upward. "But you have my assistance. If this is something you must do, then I will help you see it done." She was far too valuable an ally, and far too important a friend, for him to refuse.
Lucien nodded his agreement. āIf this is important to you, then it is important to me,ā he said firmly. āI can be ready in a day or two as well.ā His preparations need only involve making sure the carpenters continued without him while he was gone, and seeing to it that Callan, his mother Desne, and his sister Sylwyn were sufficiently supplied for the interval. Heād have to leave the woman the key to his home and hope that she was around when he needed it again, he supposed. All easily-enough done, and precious little worry to him. He knew quite well how keenly Nostariel had been feeling this pain, and for how long. He also hadnāt missed that it still burdened her, and if this was the way she could lift it, then it wasnāt much to ask of them. They did generally wade into life-threatening danger on a regular basis, after all; doing the same thing for a friend was just having a better reason than usual.
Nostariel could only offer a smile to the both of them, relieved and heartened that she was surrounded with people who understood, who would be willing to take this risk for her. āI think three days is perfectly reasonable. Thank you both; it means more than I can properly say.ā They left to prepare, and she was left only with an oddly-silent Ash. Blinking, Nostariel quelled her anxiety. He was usually the first (or second) person to jump in whenever someone asked for helpāshe was a bit surprised that it was not so here, butā¦ sheād really not considered that heād refuse. Perhapsā¦ but no. Sheād let him speak before she assumed anything.
As Ithilian and Lucien filtered out of the Clinic, Ashton turned to watch. Once the sound of the door shutting filled the room, only then did Ashton move to speak. "Ithilian's right, you know?" he said, still watching the door. A moment passed and then he turned to Nostariel, a gentle smile gracing his lips. "We all deserve some sort of closure, Maker knows I did, and Maker knows you do too." This story was a new one for Asthon, but he had his suspicions. She had been through so much, she deserved something. "It's not foolishness wanting that," He said. As he spoke, Snuffy had taken her leave from Ashton's ankles and instead went to Nostariel's where she whined softly.
"You already know my answer-- you should have known before you've even asked. If you didn't... well sweatheart, I'm disappointed in you," He said, taking a mock frown on to his face. The frown only lasted a second before it faded into the gentle smile again. His answer was, and always would be for her, a resounding yes. He would help her with anything she desired, she needn't even ask. She'd been there for him, it was only right that he would be there for her. Taking his first steps toward her, he let his arms drop to his side, revealing a slight pep to his step.
Yes, the Deep Roads weren't necessarily a place he wanted to see again, but if it was for her, he'd brave them time and time again should she ask. Darkspawn, dragons, demons, it didn't matter what they fought, so long as they fought them together. "I wouldn't be too worried. With Ithilian, Lucien, and yours truly in tow, there's not much that stands a chance," He said in a reassuring tone. It'd be just like last time, minus Rilien and Sparrow. And even then, they weren't going too deep into the Deep Roads to warrant the entire crew.
As he pulled up to Nostariel, he knelt down in front of her and cupped her face with his hand. His own smile faded for a second as he searched for the words, and returned when he had found them. "I can't help you carry this burden. You taught me that we can only do that ourselves," he began, his smile then growing wide, "But, I can carry you if need be. If you ever need someone to lean against, I'll be right there beside you," He said chuckling.
"Now, let me see that big smile," he said, standing again. Snuffy barked excitedly in agreement, adding her own sentiments to Ashton's. "Three days should be more than enough," He'd had left right that very instant if she wanted, but considering the other half of their entourage had things to tie up, he could wait a couple of more days. "I'll gather the supplies we'll need. It's a trek to the Deep Roads, and nobody else has the best damn shop in all of Kirkwall, so obviously it falls to me."
Nostariel gave the smile, shaking her head a little. āI didnāt doubt you,ā she said, ābut itās impolite to assume, no?ā He had a point, thoughāthey were long beyond hesitance at this point, and even if her errand was something less than strictly necessary, she had the kind of friends who would understand. That was good, and it had happened almost when she wasnāt looking. It sometimes mystified her, how most of the meetings sheād had here had been mere happenstance, and turned into things with meaning through chance and work in equal measures. She couldnāt say she was glad for everything theyād endured in the past few years and would endure in the future, but she wouldnāt wish it upon anyone, butā¦
Watching the ways the fires of trial had forged them all into different people had given her hope, something sheād been sorely lacking after her last Warden-related venture into the Roads. That hope was now like her armor, and she would need it to face that place again. But she had the confidence that she could, and that itself was a gift she could not put a value on. A gift they had given her. And one that she had finally allowed herself to accept.
āAll right,ā she replied with a firm nod. āThree days, and Iāll count on you for the provisions.ā A pause. āThank you, Ash. Really.ā
Closing her eyes and stilling her movement, Nostariel took a deep breath, and exhaled it in the form of a sigh. There was no use in fretting. Sheād been feeling the strain as the days grew closer, and their faces had been more frequent in her dreams as they always were at this time of year, and it was, as it had always been, enough to disturb some of the measure of peace sheād been able to find for herself. There were still things undone, tasks incomplete, and until she finished them, she would never truly be able to let that part of her life go. She no longer blamed herself as much as she once had, but that didnāt change what she had to do to find closure with it.
Folding the cleaning cloth neatly, she added it to the stack of linens that sheād need to wash before she departed and nodded to herself. It was about the appointed timeāshe wouldnāt be waiting much longer.
The clinic was not far at all from the Alienage, so it was unsurprising that Ithilian was the first to arrive. His days had become busy of late, what with the stream of elven refugees that had poured into the Alienage without warning not long ago. They had made accomodations for them as best they could, and all of the children had been taken in and given priority, but sadly there simply wasn't room for everyone, and some of them chose to test their luck in Lowtown and Darktown rather than remain. Ithilian hoped he would not have to kill them at a later date, for whatever reason.
The work was never ending, but Ithilian was still more than willing to make time to see Nostariel, who had asked him for help and requested his presence at her clinic at this hour. He arrived armed, as it was quite common that when his help was requested, some form of killing would need to be done. He was not particularly sure how he should have felt about that. It was simply what he excelled at; he could choose to use his skills to further whatever goals he desired. In this case, helping a valued friend and ally.
He entered the clinic with his head uncovered, as had become the norm for him. Amalia had convinced him that the scars were not worth hiding, and he had not covered his face since then. Amalia seemed to have taken his words to heart as well. He was unsure if he was comfortable describing what her company meant to him. To have it healed again, to have a bond that was only growing in strength. Things could have turned out much differently at any number of points. But they had not.
"Good morning," he said, mustering up his ability to speak pleasantly. As far as Ithilian understood, there would be others arriving, so he pulled up a chair and took a seat, setting his bow across his lap.
Lucien felt better in full plate than he did in the lighter leather armor heād worn for the mission aboard the boat, but it would have been stupid of him to wear too much metal then. Now, however, he had the intention of keeping his feet on land for a while, and he could conceive of no likely scenario in which what Nostariel planned to ask of him would involve more short jaunts on the ocean, so plate it was. Adjusting the straps that held his axe to his back, he bid farewell to the small refugee family that was currently residing in his spare room and headed over to the clinic. It was perhaps not something he would have ordinarily done, as Lucien was a man who rather valued his space to think and work, but between the fact that most days he spent either at the barracks or out on jobs and the fact that they had literally nowhere else to go, heād decided that clearing out his half-done art and stowing it in his own sleeping area was a tiny sacrifice to make. He found he didnāt mind the companyāthe familyās young son had a wicked sense of humor, and they were generally pleasant to be around.
He wondered how the rest were faringāit was not like there had been much time to take down names and faces when they were all climbing onto rowboats. He had a sneaking suspicion that Amalia had directed those three to him; perhaps they had mentioned someone of suspicious size and sheād put the pieces together. If so, heād have to thank her for the forethought.
He wasn't sure exactly what Nostariel planned on asking him, only that she had been somewhat solemn in requesting his presence, and therefore it was probably not anything so simple as his services in moving large objects from one place to another. That was fine by himāhe always had the time for a friend. Or at least, he tried to be that kind of person. Tugging open the door, he noted that she was in fact already present, and so was Ithilian. Lucien had never actually had more than a snippet of conversation with the man, but for all that, he knew a fair amount about him. They shared several mutual friends and acquaintances, after all. āHello Nostariel, Ithilian,ā he offered cordially, choosing to stand rather than sit, mainly because heād been sitting for half the morning already, at a worktable.
He took a little longer than those who had arrived before him, but he had a good reason for his tardiness. Ashton spent the better part of his morning breaking in a new hire, an adolescent elf who was rooming with the resident Chevalier. While Ashton didn't make it readily apparent to the boy he knew who his roommate was, there were only so many people who fit Lucien's description, and literally none that would share a house with an elven family. Truth be told, Ashton felt a little guilty about that, but considering the alternative he could live with a smidge more guilt. He would mention it to Lucien, and explain he'd keep an eye on the boy as well. He was responsible for the recent influx of refugees, the least he could do was see to it they were okay.
Ashton wasn't expecting a new hire when he walked through the doors of the Dragon's Hideout, but there he was, face down into the floorboards and little Lia sitting on his back. At some point the boy, named Callan, had entered and tried to make off with a bit of merchandise, but not before Lia wrestled him to the ground. Even Snuffy did her part, planting herself right in front of the boy's head and growled whenever he attempted to move. He was then explained the situation, and Ashton, the good samaritan he was, offered the boy a job on the spot. He'd spent the rest of the morning training the boy, and when he had to leave and meet Nostariel, he left the boy in Lia's capable, though young hands. He wasn't really worried about her-- With all the time she spent with Ithilian, he'd put money on her before Callan.
Unlike those who'd beat him to the clinic, Ashton came far less armed. He wore only a soft shirt and tan pants, and carried only his machete. Even Snuffy was brought along, as she walked beside him. He entered the clinic and found himself woefully underdressed, with Lucien sporting his full plate and Ithilian his many pointy... instruments. He spared a glance for Snuffy before he spoke, "Uh... Did I miss part of the message? Are we killing something?" He felt terribly inadequate as he stood in front of these warriors.
āIām afraid so,ā Nostariel replied, her voice heavy with some old weight. It hadnāt been so in quite some time, but this time of year always did that to her. It was a persistent reminder. She at last took an actual seat and leaned forward so that her elbows hit her knees and her arms dangled in the empty space in front of them, one hand clasping the opposite wrist. āThoughā¦ thatās not really the point. Perhaps itās best if I explain everything from the beginning.ā Wellā¦ everything would take rather a long time, but she could give them the important parts, anyway.
āAlmost five years ago now, before I was posted in Kirkwall, I led a small squad of Wardens into the Deep Roads. It was the same year the Blight descended upon Ferelden, but of course, that happened so quickly, and the word didnāt reach us in time, so we had no way to knowā¦ā She paused, running a hand down her face and sitting back in her chair. Lucien knew this story already, and she knew that by now, the other two had been able to guess at parts of it, but the telling wasnāt really any easier yet. She hoped that, when this task was over, it would be, just a little. She never wanted it to be simple, but if she could get through it without this crushing feeling of shameā¦ that might be better.
āThere were so many, and so close to the surface. I sent our runner for reinforcements, but there was no way theyād arrive in enough time. We had to hold the entrance, and we were overwhelmed. My squadā¦ all of them died. I only had time to burn the bodies before I left, but they never had real funerals. Not ones that I was present for. I needā¦ I need to go back down into the Roads. I want to see if thereās anything of them still down there, and if there is, I want to retrieve it. And I wantā¦ I want to send them off properlyā¦ in the ways they deserved.ā She looked down at her hands. āItās notā¦ itās a big risk, for something that probably doesn't matter. Theyāre dead; they have been for half a decade. It might be foolish to risk our lives to give a funeral, to collect trinkets that might not even be there in the first place, butā¦ itās something Iād like to do. Something I must do. And thatās why Iām asking the three of you.ā She wouldnāt hold it against them if they didnāt come, but there were only two more people sheād ever ask, and she didnāt want to drag both the Alienageās protectors away, nor remove Aurora from her friend. It was not even an option to ask the Viscountās daughter into the Deep Roads, so it was these three or nobody at all.
And she wanted them there, she knew. They were her friends. And if anyone could help her bear her shame here, reach her closure and lay her memories to rest, then it was they.
Ithilian slowly released a long breath through his nostrils as Nostariel explained. What was perhaps most unfortunate was that Nostariel had not had the chance deal with this any earlier, thus forcing her to simply carry the weight in the meantime. Even when they had traveled to the Deep Roads before there would have been no time, as the dwarves leading them had no time or patience for delays and detours. Ithilian knew what that weight could do to a mind if it was given even an inch of room to work. It wormed its way through the thickest walls on silent nights, when the images of the real world were replaced by the ones the mind conjured of its own accord. It could only be ignored for so long. Replacing the shame with the distraction of toil was only a temporary solution.
"It does matter, and it is not foolish," he said, with a high degree of certainty in his voice. "I know the Deep Roads are not the Brecilian Forest, but returning to the site of those I lost was one of the things I needed most to... fix myself." The danger would be far greater, that much was certain, but they had survived the Deep Roads before even with the odds arrayed against them. They could do so again, and if the memory of that place haunted Nostariel as much as Ithilian's own demons had troubled him, she would remember the area like she had been there yesterday.
"A small, experienced group such as ourselves can move quickly and without an excess of noise, though your nature as a Warden may attract some unwanted attention." He leaned forward in his chair, running a hand through his hair. "I'll need a few days to prepare. Time enough to make arrangements in the Alienage, and with Amalia. We've been under some extra strain of late, as I'm sure you are aware." The unscarred corner of his lips quirked upward. "But you have my assistance. If this is something you must do, then I will help you see it done." She was far too valuable an ally, and far too important a friend, for him to refuse.
Lucien nodded his agreement. āIf this is important to you, then it is important to me,ā he said firmly. āI can be ready in a day or two as well.ā His preparations need only involve making sure the carpenters continued without him while he was gone, and seeing to it that Callan, his mother Desne, and his sister Sylwyn were sufficiently supplied for the interval. Heād have to leave the woman the key to his home and hope that she was around when he needed it again, he supposed. All easily-enough done, and precious little worry to him. He knew quite well how keenly Nostariel had been feeling this pain, and for how long. He also hadnāt missed that it still burdened her, and if this was the way she could lift it, then it wasnāt much to ask of them. They did generally wade into life-threatening danger on a regular basis, after all; doing the same thing for a friend was just having a better reason than usual.
Nostariel could only offer a smile to the both of them, relieved and heartened that she was surrounded with people who understood, who would be willing to take this risk for her. āI think three days is perfectly reasonable. Thank you both; it means more than I can properly say.ā They left to prepare, and she was left only with an oddly-silent Ash. Blinking, Nostariel quelled her anxiety. He was usually the first (or second) person to jump in whenever someone asked for helpāshe was a bit surprised that it was not so here, butā¦ sheād really not considered that heād refuse. Perhapsā¦ but no. Sheād let him speak before she assumed anything.
As Ithilian and Lucien filtered out of the Clinic, Ashton turned to watch. Once the sound of the door shutting filled the room, only then did Ashton move to speak. "Ithilian's right, you know?" he said, still watching the door. A moment passed and then he turned to Nostariel, a gentle smile gracing his lips. "We all deserve some sort of closure, Maker knows I did, and Maker knows you do too." This story was a new one for Asthon, but he had his suspicions. She had been through so much, she deserved something. "It's not foolishness wanting that," He said. As he spoke, Snuffy had taken her leave from Ashton's ankles and instead went to Nostariel's where she whined softly.
"You already know my answer-- you should have known before you've even asked. If you didn't... well sweatheart, I'm disappointed in you," He said, taking a mock frown on to his face. The frown only lasted a second before it faded into the gentle smile again. His answer was, and always would be for her, a resounding yes. He would help her with anything she desired, she needn't even ask. She'd been there for him, it was only right that he would be there for her. Taking his first steps toward her, he let his arms drop to his side, revealing a slight pep to his step.
Yes, the Deep Roads weren't necessarily a place he wanted to see again, but if it was for her, he'd brave them time and time again should she ask. Darkspawn, dragons, demons, it didn't matter what they fought, so long as they fought them together. "I wouldn't be too worried. With Ithilian, Lucien, and yours truly in tow, there's not much that stands a chance," He said in a reassuring tone. It'd be just like last time, minus Rilien and Sparrow. And even then, they weren't going too deep into the Deep Roads to warrant the entire crew.
As he pulled up to Nostariel, he knelt down in front of her and cupped her face with his hand. His own smile faded for a second as he searched for the words, and returned when he had found them. "I can't help you carry this burden. You taught me that we can only do that ourselves," he began, his smile then growing wide, "But, I can carry you if need be. If you ever need someone to lean against, I'll be right there beside you," He said chuckling.
"Now, let me see that big smile," he said, standing again. Snuffy barked excitedly in agreement, adding her own sentiments to Ashton's. "Three days should be more than enough," He'd had left right that very instant if she wanted, but considering the other half of their entourage had things to tie up, he could wait a couple of more days. "I'll gather the supplies we'll need. It's a trek to the Deep Roads, and nobody else has the best damn shop in all of Kirkwall, so obviously it falls to me."
Nostariel gave the smile, shaking her head a little. āI didnāt doubt you,ā she said, ābut itās impolite to assume, no?ā He had a point, thoughāthey were long beyond hesitance at this point, and even if her errand was something less than strictly necessary, she had the kind of friends who would understand. That was good, and it had happened almost when she wasnāt looking. It sometimes mystified her, how most of the meetings sheād had here had been mere happenstance, and turned into things with meaning through chance and work in equal measures. She couldnāt say she was glad for everything theyād endured in the past few years and would endure in the future, but she wouldnāt wish it upon anyone, butā¦
Watching the ways the fires of trial had forged them all into different people had given her hope, something sheād been sorely lacking after her last Warden-related venture into the Roads. That hope was now like her armor, and she would need it to face that place again. But she had the confidence that she could, and that itself was a gift she could not put a value on. A gift they had given her. And one that she had finally allowed herself to accept.
āAll right,ā she replied with a firm nod. āThree days, and Iāll count on you for the provisions.ā A pause. āThank you, Ash. Really.ā