"It's settled then." Thane Svarah was pleased with their plan to search for the source of the darkspawn's infection. She had shared with them that even after Evelyn's last visit when she accidentally cleared a large patch of the tainted land, the problem persisted. Having investigated herself, she had several leads for them to follow, all within a day's journey of the Hold.
Their council convened in their Great Hall as well, but they did not have a room dedicated to it like Redhold did. Evelyn smiled inwardly, proud of Cullen's mind and organization of their clan affairs. Svarah, like many other Holds, seemed to be isolationist in nature and cared very little for what happened beyond her borders aside from encroachment upon her territory. Yet, her clan was strong, so while it was a different style of leadership, it was working for Stone-Bear Hold. Her council joined them, and it was a stark comparison to the younger members of Redhold, all having grayed. It explained a lot in their specific Hold laws, favoring the more traditional and somewhat outdated rules.
"There is one more matter for us to discuss, Thane," Evelyn crossed her arms and leveled the woman a raptor glare. Her ominous words echoed about the dark space. Stepping closer to the central hearth, she held out her hand to greet the fire. Wagging her fingers at it, the flame brightened growing excited, and reached for her. "The Lowlander is awake and she has told me quite a tale."
To her credit, Svarah wasn't having any of her sass, "Leave it be, Phoenix. She is not your concern. If she is awake then I'll expect her back to work today."
Sorin took an aggressive step forward, but Evelyn held up a hand halting him. With a heated look, her fellow mage backed down. Yesterday, after Miriam was lucid enough for another healing potion and to tell them of how she came to be among the Avvar, they were summoned to dinner with the Thane. Knowing that the first night there she didn't wish to broach the subject yet, she told Sorin not to mention it. He was by far the most agitated about his fellow mage's treatment. Evelyn knew Svarah well enough that she would not be so easily persuaded to give up the girl, for labor was a precious commodity for a people unable to breed. However, Miriam had given them a reason to ask for her aid.
"What's done is done," Evelyn lied, wanting her first attempt to be civil, "but I would ask that you let her accompany us. Miriam is a highly trained healer from the Circle of Magi and has survived the 5th Blight in Ferelden, which makes her valuable to me and the Grey Wardens in our pursuit of the prophecy."
Staring into the hearth opposite of the Phoenix, the Thane looked up devoid of emotion, "No."
They locked stares, Evelyn's mirroring her, "She is one woman. Surely, you have the others who were with her enslaved? Oh, that's right..." Her eyes turned deadly cold and with a swipe of her hand, the fire all but died, "You tortured and killed them."
Some of Svarah's council began to show signs of unease, nervously fiddling. The Thane pursed her lips, "We did as our ancient laws dictate, nothing more."
"Well, how could you do more to dead bodies," her tone was sharp with harsh sarcasm.
"Your acts are a crime against humanity," Sorin seethed, unable to hold his tongue.
"I respect the Grey Wardens, but do not test my patience, Lowlander." Svarah's words worked to harden the others around her who now wore sneers and frowns.
"And do not test mine!" The fire roared upwards, making Evelyn's voice seem louder than it was. "You speak to one from the Lowlands, and while I may now be Avvar, I will not stand by and have my companions utterly disrespected as I once was." Calming the flames, she let her mana convey her outrage instead, glowing fiercely like a Rage demon. Her orange irises moved to glance at all of the Avvar in the room, "I may have forgiven you for your past actions toward me, but that doesn't erase the memory of it. I know hatred of Templars and the Chantry run deep in the Basin, but that doesn't justify your actions."
"You know nothin' of the pain the Templars have caused me and many others! They took my daughter away from me!" The Thane cried with heart-wrenching pain.
"I do," she paused wondering if now was the time to play her wild card, "…and that's why I've written to my father for his aid." Svarah looked at her with a mix of anger and confusion. Evelyn continued, "If you won't do the decent thing then I will trade Miriam's life for information."
Svarah scoffed angrily, "What news could you tell me that would be worth that infidel's life?"
"I can find out the fate of your daughter." Evelyn paused letting it sink in. The Thane stood paralyzed and her face drained of color. "It would cost my father a great deal of favors and coin, but he would do it if I asked him. If he finds anything, what you do with that information is up to you. That is the trade, do we have a deal?"
Her mouth moved with no sound, still in shock, but when her husband came up behind her and squeezed her arms, she shook herself to respond. "Y-yes! Such a thing is possible? Can I trust the word of a Lowland noble?"
Evelyn's brow creased, "My father is as honorable as they come." She gestured to Owanye and he stepped forward, "We are proud to share his likeness and traits. To know us is to know him."
"Aye, apologies Phoenix, ye know of our struggles and I should not have judged ye kin like such." Evelyn nodded her head in acceptance, and Svarah's eyes lit up with hope. "She's yers! Please, when can ye write him?!"
"The Skymother's pets have already taken it. I usually hear back in two weeks."
Ignoring her assumption that the Thane would take the deal, the proud Avvar was brought to tears, falling to her knees, "Oh Phoenix, I--"
Evelyn raised her voice above her hysteria, raising a hand to halt her words, "I have not promised you her retrieval, but I can promise closure. Somewhere in the White Spire, there is a record of her being taken with a note as to her fate. My father understands the feeling of having a child taken as well, but thankfully Cullen was sympathetic back then and allowed me to write him. Sometimes the worst torture is not knowing. My father will find her."
Standing as her reason returned, Svarah nodded, "I understand." Laughing a bit cynically, she added, "Ye know, ye could've asked I surrender the Hold to her husband in exchange and I would've seriously considered it."
"Just consider?" The Phoenix smiled cheekily, "Well, know I would've done it for you for nothing. I cannot imagine your pain."
"Either way, tell the Lowlander she is free. My clansmen will not bother her again. Ye will tell me the moment ye receive a reply?"
"You have my word."
With a deep exhale as her spirits were lifted, Svarah rounded the hearth, taking Evelyn by the arm. "Now, ye all better get some rest for it is a hard trail ye take tomorrow. I shall walk with you and help obtain supplies for your stay with us."
After arranging food to be sent to their house that evening, the Lady of Redhold and her Lowland companions retired for the night. On their way back to their lodging, Evelyn gave a sideways look to Sorin, "I told you I'd handle it."
He snorted, "I admit, I find it difficult to figure out whose side you’re on at times."
"What sides?" She frowned, feeling as if she knew where this conversation was going. "You can't possibly mean Avvar or Lowlander?"
"Why, because you consider yourself both?"
"Absolutely not. I'm Avvar."
Owayne scoffed as they opened the door and stepped inside, "Come on sis, you don't need to put on the act in front of us. You can’t exactly hide that you were not born here in the mountains."
As the last one in, she came to a sudden stop as the door shut behind her and her mana pulsed, making her look demonic in the dark. With a flick of her fingers, the central hearth lit up brightly. "Excuse me?" Her fiery temper began to surface at her brother's insolence, "I am Avvar. When the Maker abandoned me, it was Hakkon who spoke to me; Hakkon who gave me this mark; who welcomed me into the clan, gave my life purpose, and saved me from certain death! The Avvar did not lock me away for being a mage, instead they gave me a home and freedom! The Chantry and their fucking rhetoric against mages can rot in the Void!"
There was a gasp from her side, "Herald! How can you say such things?!" Miriam had emerged at hearing her raised voice. She clung to the doorframe, still weak from her injuries.
Evelyn whirled to face the Ferelden, eyes blazing with a mix of fury and raw power. "How can I not?" She snapped, uncaring of her frail state. "I've lived their lies, endured their chains. The Avvar gave me what the Chantry never could—a place to belong. Hakkon Wintersbreath is my Lord and it is the gods of the Basin who I serve."
"No!" The healer surprisingly ran to her, grasping her marked hand desperately, "What did they do to you? Did they defile and torture you as well? Make you forsake the truth for their lies?"
Reigning in her anger with a deep breath at seeing Miriam's sincerity, Evelyn took her other hand in hers as well. With gentle squeezes, she emphasized her words, "It wasn't the Avvar who wronged me, it was the Templars. They never came to rescue me; they only came to kill me.”
Sorin, leaning against the wall with a skeptical look, spoke up. "The only reason the Avvar didn’t wrong you is because you're part of the prophecy they believe in. If you were just any other woman, your fate wouldn’t have been any better than any of their slaves." His sympathetic gaze darted towards Miriam for a second.
Evelyn let go of Miriam's hands, pivoting to meet Sorin's skeptical gaze. "That may be true. Yet, the fact remains, they rescued me when the Chantry would have condemned me to death. In fact, they did, when the Templars kidnapped me. They were on order to take me dead or alive, and they did stab me."
Sorin pushed himself away from the wall, his expression hardening with conviction. "So your faith hinges solely on personal benefit? What prevents you from turning to the Old Gods then? Surely, they would offer even greater benevolence."
"Andraste preserve us from the foul and the wicked," the healer murmured, tracing a circular sign of the sun in the air with her hand as if to dispel the darkness their discussion could conjure.
Evelyn squared her shoulders, meeting Sorin's challenging gaze with a steady resolve. "It's not about personal benefit. It's about truth and survival. Look, the Maker does exist and so do the Avvar gods. Korth Mountain-Father had even said that he wished the Lowlander god would return to help them fight against the red lyrium plaguing The Stone in the north!" Evelyn glanced at Oghren who looked at her in surprise. "That's right, all our gods are aware of the others."
Miriam shook her head vehemently. "Heresy and lies..."
"Why?" The Phoenix looked about the room at them all. "Why can't it be possible?"
"Ask me that after I drain that barrel. I'll have all the answers then," Oghren waddled his way over to the casket of mead that was delivered with their fresh supply of food.
"I second that," Owayne was quick to assist with the uncorking, leaving the three mages to their debate.
Scrutinizing the expressions on the other two, Evelyn sighed, "Believe what you want. I know what I saw and heard. That is the truth, as is the fact that I am Avvar." Spinning on a heel, she grabbed a sack of vegetables to start peeling for supper. Sitting herself as far in a corner as possible, she pulled her boot dagger and started her task, glowering at the others now and then. Her jaw clenched and it reminded her fondly of Cullen, the way it did the same when he was mad. It made her laugh inwardly that he was rubbing off on her. Gods, she missed him.
After productively moping for a bit and finishing her peeling, she prepared a pot over the fire to start supper. Having felt betrayed by her Lowlander companions, when Miriam cautiously approached her, she shot her a dangerous glare. "Evelyn, may we speak?"
With a glance up and down now aware of the smell she was giving off, the Knight-Enchanter stood, towering a head taller than the healer. She sighed unable to be angry at a woman who had been raped and enslaved by her people. "Why don't we go down to the water and get you washed while the stew cooks?" She nodded readily, and the two women let Sorin know where they were headed since the other two were happily in their cups.
Sitting by the stream, the gentle sound of flowing water was in stark contrast to the frustration the pyromancer felt as she tried to untangle her new companion’s hair, which was matted and full of lice. "I wanted to thank you for securing my freedom," the healer began, her voice laced with both gratitude and uncertainty. "Also, I was thinking... the Maker works in mysterious ways. Perhaps your reverence for the Avvar spirits, whom you see as gods, is part of His plan to show us His mere servants that even the Herald of Andraste can falter and lose her way, yet He will still regard her with benevolence."
Evelyn opened her mouth to argue, to vehemently defend her beliefs, but then her eyes caught sight of a particularly nasty scar on Miriam's head—a dent that spoke volumes of the hardships the healer had endured. For a moment, the pyromancer hesitated. Anger would serve no purpose here. She knew her truths, and Miriam held onto hers for her own reasons. Taking a deep breath, Evelyn softened her expression and replied calmly, "Thank you, Miriam. Your words are... thought-provoking." She paused for a moment. "Regarding your freedom, I made you a promise, and to the Avvar, oaths are sacred."
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Miriam's fingers fiddled with each other in her lap, "I must repay you."
"You are by accompanying us to fight the darkspawn, which you may come to regret in time." Evelyn sighed in defeat, setting the comb aside. “Miriam, I think it might be better to just cut it off. The lice...they’re everywhere, and it’s impossible to get them out.”
The healer’s face fell. “But...”
The Lady of Redhold reached out, placing a comforting hand on Miriam’s shoulder despite their earlier words of anger - the Phoenix was not without sympathy despite her hot temper. “It will grow back, and it will be healthier in the long run.” Reluctantly, Miriam nodded, and Evelyn reached once again into her boot for her knife. With careful precision, she began cutting, the long, matted locks falling to the ground in muted piles. Miriam closed her eyes, her expression a mixture of sadness and resignation. She had long deep brown hair that fell to her waist, and though her hair wasn't nearly as long as the Ferelden's, she could imagine the pain of having to part with it.
When she was finished, the pyromancer stepped back to survey her work. Miriam's head was now covered only by a thin layer of brown fuzz. In a practiced motion, Evelyn gathered herbs from her pouch and carefully mixed them with water in a small, well-worn bowl. The resulting paste had the pungent aroma of crushed thyme and wild garlic. "The perks one learns while living among the Avvar," Evelyn chuckled, remembering how Mia had covered her children's heads with the same paste and imparted the story to Miriam who sat like a statue upon a rock.
With gentle determination, she applied the herbal mixture to the healer’s scalp, working it through the stubbled strands with careful fingers. Once every inch had been treated, the pyromancer led Miriam to the stream, its waters flowing clear and cold over smooth stones. Cupping her hands, she drew water from it and rinsed away the herbal paste, watching as it mingled with the current and disappeared downstream.
Miriam’s hands ghosted over her shorn head as she looked up, “It feels so strange...” The setting sun caught in the water droplets that clung to her scalp and cast tiny, fractured rainbows into the evening air.
At that moment, Sorin came, calling over to them that the stew was finished. Waving him over, his sharp eyes took in the scene as he approached them with an expression as inscrutable as ever. "Not the most attractive, but definitely the most practical choice for the road," he remarked bluntly, his tone matter-of-fact. He paused, then added, "Maybe I'll get one myself." He ran a hand through his long, wavy locks, a contemplative look crossing his face. Evelyn turned to regard him in surprise, her brow arching.
Despite Miriam’s initial sadness, a small smile played at the corners of her lips. She looked up at the Warden, her eyes brighter. “Oh, you would?”
Sorin shrugged. “Why not? We are heading to battle darkspawn after all. Those blighters fight dirty.”
The healer perked up even more, turning to Evelyn with excitement. “A team haircut!”
The pyromancer shook her head vehemently, her hands raised in a defensive gesture. “No way in the fucking Void,” she said, her tone firm. “This hair is staying right where it is.”
“Suit yourself. But think about it—less hair, less to worry about when the darkspawn come swarming.” The young man uttered.
“If there is darkspawn, I'm using the mark to turn into lava. My hair will literally kill them. Besides, someone has to keep a bit of style around here.” Taking Miriam’s place on the rock in front of her, Evelyn rolled her eyes and began shaving Sorin’s raven locks.
Miriam laughed, the sound bright and clear, chasing away the lingering gloom of the evening. When the haircut was complete, she then turned her pale gaze to the Warden. “Thank you.”
Sorin looked at her in surprise, his brow furrowing slightly. “What for?”
"You know…" she said blushing and Evelyn couldn't help but suppress a smirk at the two young mages. When it was clear Sorin truly had no idea, balking at her inarticulation, he reminded them about dinner and walked off. Once the women were alone once more, Miriam stripped to bathe as Evelyn perched herself as her sentry.
Catching the movement of a bird flying through the trees, Evelyn's eyes landed on Miriam's battered and pale form. She swallowed hard having dealt with such injuries before in the Circle curtesy of Ryker Aeron - though not all scars were physical. "Miriam, are you… all right, I mean, after those men… touched you?" She froze, running her hands down to the bruising on her hips and thighs; the potions healed her internally but left some evidence on her skin. "I saw some witherstalk back in the longhouse. We can make you a tea to drink to prevent any unwanted surprises."
Her pale eyes softened to a sad and somber state, "It's all right, I… I can't conceive. I'm barren."
"Oh."
"I suppose there is a bright side to everything."
"Well, if you need someone to talk to, I'm experienced in such matters."
Miriam spoke cautiously, "You know someone who was… violated in such a manner?"
Evelyn looked up from under her brows, "Yes. Me." With a hardened stare, she watched the petite mage process this revelation in silence.
"And how did you cope with it?"
The Phoenix leaned back and exhaled heavily, holding her gaze. "It festered with me and I desired revenge above all else. When I got my chance, I cut off a few of his fingers and then but soon-to-be-husband at the time killed him when he tried to stab me." If it were possible, Miriam paled even more while Evelyn's jaded glare bore into her.
"And… do you feel justice was served?"
"It felt great erasing him from this world, but that kind of thing leaves unseen scars, like night terrors and such. He didn't just harm my body, but my mind as well."
"The Chant of Light will see me through any and all darkness. His love will heal me." Not wishing to push the subject any further, Evelyn readily agreed with her and dropped the matter. She worried any more reminders of Ryker would affect her negatively, though she never forgot the way Cullen had shielded her from that monster.
When they returned to the house, Oghren took one look at Miriam's newly shorn head and let out a hearty guffaw, "Smart move. Less for the darkspawn to grab onto when they try to chew your head off. Not that they'll get the chance with me around." He winked at her with a smirk as he swayed.
Miriam shrank back slightly, her eyes wide with a hint of fear creeping into them. Unseen scars indeed…
Owanye took his sister by the shoulders to speak quietly in the corner, "I'm sorry little sis, I know you wouldn't say those things unless you absolutely believed it. I should've given you more credit than that."
"It was bound to come up eventually, you know, how the Circle mage turned into a crazy barbarian, right?"
He leaned in and she smelt the sweet mead on his breath, "Imagine if Cullen and Cassandra were here, they'd be livid." He laughed taking another sip from his tankard. "Want a mug?"
"Um, no, not tonight." Her brother shrugged before pulling her over to the table for stew.
The rest of the evening's conversations were kept light and uncontroversial. Miriam retired early still needing rest, saving herself from having to suffer the "truths" Oghren and Owayne were divulging about their romantic conquests. Sorin sat brooding on… whatever he was thinking silently in the corner and Evelyn sat to write a letter a Cullen. As she wrote, she could almost hear his responses to the things that had happened, bringing her a small amount of comfort.
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After another day of rest and going over the terrain with Thane Svarah Sun-hair and her council, they established a route and prepared for departure. Thankfully, the Wardens were just as antsy to get underway as Evelyn was - even if her reason to do so was a selfish one, simply wanting to go home. It would be a full day of travel before they arrived at the first possible source. As their first day on the road wore on, the Grey Wardens shivered feeling like they were on the right track.
Stopping for the night and making camp, the five companions settled in by a fire as a pot of stew was made. Afterward, Miriam and Oghren succumbed to their exhaustion, having already agreed on the watch order. In the quiet of the night, something floated down from the sky into her lap. A small folded piece of parchment held shut by her father's seal sat there staring back at her. A large raven perched above them on a branch cawing. Knowing she'd have to send letters, she came prepared. Reaching over into her bag, she pulled out some seeds in thanks, sprinkling them on the ground for the Skymother's messenger.
"A message from Redhold already?" Sorin asked.
"No, this is from my father," she looked up excitedly to Owayne. Before the bird could fly off, she gave it another note - this one meant for Cullen - and the raven disappeared into the darkness.
Her brother leaned back on his pack casually, "And how is the Bann of Ostwick faring without his two favorite wayward children?"
"You've trained a raven to fly that distance? And somehow find you in the middle of the Frostback Basin?" Sorin was trying to work it all out in his head, making her laugh at the true simplicity of it.
"No, the birds are pets of our goddess, the Lady of the Skies, and they deliver his letters. I pay them in tribute and pray my thanks to Her, and in return, they see it done." The mage looked at her as if she sprouted a second head. "It sounds outlandish, especially to Andrastians, but it's true. When I first came here, the Thane told me that the Maker didn't live here, that this was the domain of the Avvish gods, and he was right. It wasn't long before Hakkon spoke to me."
Sorin turned his gaze from her, deep in thought for a few moments as she continued to unfold the letter. When he glanced back over, he seemed troubled, "You've actually spoken with the gods? How is that possible? Do you know how that sounds?"
Her brother was quick to her defense this time, "The Trevelyans are one of the most connected families to the Chantry. Evie and I have over a dozen cousins serving in it. When the Chantry needs funds, they ask our father first. Now, I know it's crazy but I do believe my sister when she says she'd spoken to the gods, for nothing less would've converted her. The one god even marked her twice now." Owayne sat back smugly, which she found amusing.
"At was cost?" Sorin was enthralled by the tale.
"The mark on my hand was a gift to aid me, to amplify my mana to cleanse the land of the Blight by fire. In return, he asks only that I save his mortals." The Ferelden mage narrowed his eyes in question. "I think it's rather reasonable coming from the God of War, though I am His weapon. Hakkon has had to intervene for Korth Mountain-Father, for he has been weakened by the red lyrium and Blight in his body. The Lady has no power over such things and can only hope her tears - the rain - will help to purify the taint. I have her blessing as well protecting me from the Blight, for unlike the Maker, our gods take an active interest in the welfare of our people."
Sorin sat there brooding at the fire. Evelyn realized that most people would now think she had totally lost it. Sharing a look with her sibling, Owayne spoke on her behalf, "Best not to think too hard about it, Warden. Though you do have the first watch, so knock yourself out trying to piece your universe back together after that revelation." Scooting over to Evelyn, the Trevelyans read their father's letter before turning in for the night:
Dearest Evie,
Forgive my initial shock at the news of your marriage, but I hope all was indeed done properly. You are still a Trevelyan and though that may not mean much to the Avvar, it means a great deal to me that you are respected. I hear far too many vile tales of the treatment of outsiders among them, and I pray to the Maker they are pure fabrication. Apologies, darling, I know you seem happy with the arrangement, but I needed to speak my mind on the matter as your worried father.
I thank you for your description of your husband, but I would prefer to make my own assessment of the man. While I trust your judgment of his character, I had always said I'd never part with you unless I was sure you were in good hands. It is times like these I wish you were not on the other side of Thedas!
I am pleased to hear Owayne has made it to you safely and is by your side through all this. It gives me no small amount of relief to know he is watching over you and was there through the marriage arrangements.
Now, I did call in a few favors to find the information you wanted from the Ostwick Mothers. I'm pleased to say, darling, it was not in vain. The other letter I've included is the original reply to my inquiry. I hope it is what you need.
Write me again soon, especially if there are any marital developments…
Congratulations on your marriage, and please pass along my well wishes to my new son-in-law. If the Maker wills it, one day I will meet him.
Your loving father,
Bann Drexford Trevelyan
Owayne chuckled, "Father seems none too pleased you've married. How did you describe Cullen to him? Blonde, hunky, dreamy?" Evelyn smacked his arm, and he whined in jest, "Ow!"
"I'm sure Father cares not for his looks. I told him he was respectful and dutiful. Don't you think, had Cullen been a Marcher, Father would've liked him?"
He tilted his head back and forth in thought, "Probably, but Evie aren't you only married to him for three years? After that what happens?"
It was then she realized she hadn't told her brother anything of the Hold Spirits or her plans to bond with Cullen for life. "Well, about that…" He narrowed his eyes in suspicion at her. She went on to explain the marks on her stomach made by Hakkon first.
Owayne's initial reaction warmed her heart when with snorted out a laugh with a toothy grin. "Wait, is this even what you want? Don't you get a say?"
Evelyn couldn't help but scoff, "I've never had a say in anything, but I do want this with him."
"So, he knocks you up - three times, at that - and then your marriage ends leaving you with his three children?" The red hue in his cheeks was rising, and though she shook her head, he went on, "That's a shitty fucking deal, Evie. When we return to Redhold I'll be having a chat with the Thane, and--"
"Owayne, Cullen has already asked me to renew our vows for life. Like Lowlanders. We may have been forced together by the prophecy, but we love each other." He studied her face for any sign of dishonesty but found nothing. Softening his gaze on his beloved sister, Owayne nodded. "Besides," she smacked him again, "what the fuck are you going to do to Cullen? No offense brother, but he might just be too much Avvar for you to handle."
"Yeah? What about you?" In response, Evelyn quirked up an eyebrow mischievously. "Ew, gross! Forget I said anything." They paused for a good laugh before he continued, "If you're happy, I'm happy, sis. I can't say I can stick around here forever, I just want to know you're with people who will love and protect you."
She put her arms around his and kissed his cheek, "I know. Don't tell Hector, but you're my favorite brother."
"Yeah, I better be. I traveled all the way down to this bloody Basin just to check on you. All Hector did was cover for me before I was across the Waking Sea. Perhaps next time I can bring Father with me."
"I'd love that, but let's not get ahead of ourselves. Darkspawn may still nibble on our limbs."
"How cheery."
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Evelyn's departure left their home in an unsettling silence. Cullen was reminded of this fact each time he returned home met by the darkness. The woman was always making noise, whether she was talking herself through a receipt from the cookbook she bought from the dwarven merchants or singing. She had a beautiful voice, and though she mainly sang songs from the Lowlands, he couldn't help but have a few favorites of his own from her ability to carry a tune alone.
Cullen's ancestral house even smelled different without her vanilla and embrium oil or the aromatic plants she often ground for Ilara wafting about. When his sisters offered to wash his bedding, he refused, unwilling to give it up until her scent had worn off it. The central fire pit seemed to miss her as well, for it lost its liveliness without its mistress. It burned low, unable to give off the comfort of its warmth against the cold stone of the house or its woody scent. There was always a fire going when she was there accompanied by the smell of something savory cooking. Even on the warmer days, she could keep its heat to a minimum, keeping the house temperature cool. Now, there was nothing, the space smelling only of damp spring air.
It had only been a week, but already his eldest sister - trying to ignore her grief - had made it her new crusade to care for her brothers as the family home fell into disarray. Seeing as the two men had no plan as to who would be doing what while the Lady of the Hold was away, they hardly had to even ask her. Sitting at the dining table as Mia prepared breakfast, his stomach tingled not from hunger but concern. Where was his wife now? She had made it to Stone-Bear Hold, but was she already in pursuit of the Blight? How was she doing? Did she sleep well? Did she remember to hide their food so the Basin's animals didn't come looking for it? Cullen wished he could speak with her, but the only assurance he'd have was their bonding mark still boldly inked upon his forearm. The warmth of the season allowed for him to wear light sleeveless shirts so the mark was constantly within his view.
Mia placed some food and drink on the table, then sat to join him, "Cullen, I heard you yell something from within your room earlier. Is everything all right?" That morning, he woke up in a panic when she wasn't there. It was amazing how quickly he had become used to her presence, and now she was gone. It was like a cruel trick; another woman was taken from him, though this one was still alive.
"I just had forgotten that Evelyn was gone." He didn't look at her, but he knew she was staring at him over her cup sipping her tea.
Leaning back and placing her mug down, she threw some food on his plate since he had not moved to get any too deep in thought. "She's a fighter, Cullen, we all witnessed the battle after your knotting. If the Basin hasn't killed her yet, it won't."
"It's not the land that worries me, it's what's in it that does."
"Eat," she commanded, "your wife would roast me if I let you fall to pieces over her absence."
Finally willing himself to put his thoughts aside and start in on his food before the council meeting, he noticed Mia wistfully looking about the room. "What is it?"
Her amber eyes seemed to twinkle with some mirth, "I'm just imagining this place with more children. Annis and Nechtan have always wanted cousins, and I feared for a long time they'd be the last Rutherfords, especially when the prophecy came about. I know it's too early to hope but…" A rare joyful smile emerged from his eldest sibling. He felt as if he hadn't seen it for years - maybe since Annis was born. To see the look on his sister's face of hope that new life would bring even to someone as rigid as Mia, was priceless. "If only mother and father were still here to see how our family will grow."
"They will Mia. It's thanks to Evelyn that the two have finally been reunited, and now they and our ancestors can watch their legacy together from the Sky." They shared a quiet tender moment in remembrance before resuming their meal. "It's nice to see you smile again."
She huffed, "Well, just don't tell Evelyn. I'm sure she'd be incredibly disappointed that I was capable of such frivolous feelings."
He chuckled while taking a sip of his water. "I suggest you get past such posturing unless you plan to do it for the rest of your days."
Her eyes narrowed suspiciously on him, "Oh? And why is that?" He stopped dead mid-sip having shared more than he wanted to accidently, and naturally she caught it. "Cullen?" His eyes flicked guiltily over to her. "Are you… oh, Cullen." She knew what he meant, for she was far too smart not to have surmised his meaning from his words.
Sighing, now knowing he'd need to nip this before Mia blew it out of proportion, he kept his tone level and his sharp eyes on hers. "I will say this once, sister," it was authoritative, yet passionate, "We wish to bond for life. No one, and I mean no one, will stop us from doing it." He held her gaze to emphasize his point.
She scoffed, blinking in disbelief, "If you say so. Either way, you have my support."
"I hope that is also extended to my wife?"
Mia snorted with a hint of sarcasm, "Of course it is. We may have had our differences, but she has always come through for us. I can't fault her there." Taking another dainty mouthful of her drink, she gave him a look of concern, "Is it possible my sister is with child as we speak?"
Cullen placed his spoon down, staring painfully at his plate, "Yes." A wave of sobering rage rolled through him, "Yes, and I'm stuck here. I should be with her." He pounded his fist on the table.
"Your place is here. Do not make the mistake Father had."
"I'd never," he snapped. "Hakkon wishes our child to be the next Thane, and I will not work against His will after everything He's done for Evelyn." With a sigh, his countenance softened, "We are positioned to gain everything, and I'll be damned before I jeopardize that."
A sigh of relief overtook Mia, "Well, thank the gods for that. At least you don't just have cheese between your ears, little brother."
He chuckled, "That's Bran you speak of, not me. Though I suppose I owe Bran Phoenix-shield more credit with his new legend mark." After the telling of his heroic rescue of Evelyn during the battle against Axlan, the Skald bestowed the name onto him. If he hadn't acted as her shield, the prophecy would've died there with them.
"That's right, both of you could show me a bit more respect," the rare brunette Rutherford slowly made his way to the table having smelled breakfast. His shoulder was healing nicely, and he had begun training with it again. "Had I been in fighting shape, you know I would've left with Evie," he patted Cullen on the shoulder before sitting beside him.
"I know, and trust me when I say it would have brought me no small amount of comfort, even if she has her own brother, he's not an Avvar. She's still so new to our ways, I just hope nothing goes wrong or she sticks her nose into another Holds affairs." He gave them both weary glances, "You know how she is…" They nodded readily.
"Even so," Mia added, "let her. Let the other Holds know that our Lady is not one to trifle with. It can only work in our favor, showing your strength as Thane to have bonded with such a formidable woman."
Cullen gave her a curious look, "I can never tell based on what you say about my wife if you like her or not."
The eldest Rutherford smiled slyly, "And you never will."