Those Who Wander

"Many are those who wander in sin,

Despairing that they are lost forever."

- Transfigurations, 10:1

These shemlen were horribly inefficient.

Sitting in the rafters high above the main auditorium, Ellana took a bite from the apple she'd swiped from the kitchens. Chewing thoughtfully, she peered down at the assembled crowd, as the shemlen leaders squabbled and bickered over every tiny detail, wanting everything, compromising nothing. Apparently, correctness was determined by volume, and thus everyone was shouting at each other at the tops of their voices, trying to make their opinion heard above all others, before the Divine in her funny hat would call for quiet, and the Qunari security would bang the butts of their polearms on the floor. Then, a relative, murmuring quiet would fall for a few minutes, before it would rise in a drone until everyone was shouting at each other again.

Ellana nudged her companion with her toe, nodding at the assembly beneath them.

"Are things like this for your people too, durgen'len?"

Cadash laughed at that, a deep, rumbling chuckle.

"When my people all get together like this, it's usually to get everyone roaring drunk. Then, if it's a gathering of rival families, it's so that all the roaring drunk people can stab each other to death. Might be different for the caste-obsessed nug-humpers down in Orzammar, but the Carta doesn't usually deal with messy negotiations like this. In general, it tends to be 'Here are the terms, take the deal or take my axe in your head'." Tucking his whetstone back into his pocket, Cadash tapped at the edge of his dagger lightly, checking its sharpness. "And what about for you elves? Do the hunters and elders all crawl over each other trying to get their say?"

Ellana chuckled at the thought, imaging Keeper Deshanna in the Divine's silly headdress.

"Generally, our Keeper and our hahren will discuss amongst themselves, and then announce the decision to the clan. It's quick, easy, and efficient."

"If only all life's problems could be solved so easily," Cadash sighed as he sheathed his dagger into a hidden sheathe strapped beneath his armpit. "Just lock all the decision-makers in one room and don't let them out until they make a decision. Hungry people tend to make up their minds quickly."

Ellana let out a low laugh, keeping her voice soft even though she highly doubted that the shemlen could hear her over their own noise.

"Maybe we ought to swipe all the food so the Conclave can be done with. I don't want to be in these freezing mountains for a second longer than I have to. I miss my clan."

"Typical elf, always dreaming of your forests," Cadash snorted. "Me, I want to stay here as long as I can. I've already off-loaded my cargo, so once the Conclave's done, I've got nothing to look forward to other than my dear old Dasher, may the Stone crush the old blighter."

"Good news for you, then. I'm willing to bet that the Conclave will only be over when there are icicles dangling from my ears." With a sigh, Ellana crunched into her apple. "If the shemlen all decide to kill each other, you dwarves can have the mountains. Elgar'nan, the things I do for my Keeper."

"Aw, is the widdle Fwirst mad at her Kweeper? Pwoor prissy elf, having to tough it out in the mountains like a weal warrior when she wants to fwolic in the fowest. Pwoor elf!"

Ellana shoved Cadash, smiling indulgingly.

"Careful, dwarf. I might not be able to set your species on fire, but I can still push you off lots of high things. For someone of your stature, I'm sure that stairs are a daily menace you have to conquer."

Cadash put a hand over his heart and swooned dramatically.

"You wound me, Lavellan. And here I thought we were building a genuine friendship, an alliance of elves and dwarves to take over the world when the humans inevitably cock the world up again."

Ellana laughed as she tossed her apple core over her shoulder.

"Consider it a deal, durgen'len. Shush, now. The Divine's about to speak."

"Goodie. I'm so excited for more bickering. Really."

"Oi! Elf!"

Ellana froze. The only reason someone would directly call out to another person by their race was if they intended to make a confrontation out of it. In the polished reflection of a Qunari's armour she spotted a human merchant striding towards her. Although the reflection distorted the image, he seemed irritated.

Confrontational, irritated human shouting at an elf? This could get very ugly, very fast.

Ellana's fingers tingled, wishing for a staff. She was dressed in Circle robes she'd lifted from the washing lines in the camps outside Haven, but she hadn't managed to find any spare staves. Her own staff she'd left with the rest of her Dalish things in a hollow tree across the frozen lake; even in Circle robes, anybody who saw her vallaslin and a heartwood staff was sure to put two and two together.

Still, lack of a staff didn't mean an absolute lack of magic. Electricity sparked around the tips of Ellana's fingers. On the one hand, any human who caught her was sure to wonder why a Dalish was at the Conclave. If what she'd heard about the Chantry was true, "interrogation" was the last thing she wanted to deal with.

On the other hand, at a peace conference full to the brim with paranoid Templars and fuming mages, a lightning bolt to someone's face could just as easily cause the whole world to burn down around Thedas's ears, pointy or round.

"Yes, you. I see you over there, pretending not to hear me. Come over here, knife-ear!"

And the tone of that shem was so arrogantly superior that Ellana was just about ready to turn around and blast him onto his stupid shem arse, when the merchant walked right past her, not even stopping to glance at her slight hooded figure. He was pointing and gesturing quite empathetically at a redheaded flat-ear, who was cowering a little beneath his admonishments. Ellana breathed a sigh of relief, then instantly felt angry at her relief. Just because it was a flat-ear didn't mean the human was any less of a prick.

"You've got that look in your eye again," Cadash chirped as he appeared by Ellana's elbow, munching on something which looked suspiciously like a nug's hind leg.

"What look? And you're not supposed to be talking to me, by the way. Super-secret Carta black market and super-secret Dalish spy, remember?"

"Fun thing about being so low to the ground, all you big people never seem to notice me," Cadash popped the last chunk of meat into his mouth and wiped the grease off his lips with the back of his gloved hand. "And you've got the 'First of the Dalish, last to submit, go forth and smite the human oppressors' look in your eye again."

Ellana gave the merchant a few more seconds of the evil eye before turning away to look at her unexpected ally. "It just infuriates me. The shemlen going around, talking down to elves, lording it over everyone like they own everything."

"Technically, the humans do own everything," Cadash pointed out unhelpfully. "On the surface, anyway. Even the Qunari don't officially own Par Vollen. They're technically still invaders."

"How did it get to this?" Ellana asked. Huffing, she crossed her arms and leaned against a pillar. She tugged her hood lower over her face, tugging it this way and that to make sure her ears didn't jab the fabric into conspicuous points. "The humans rule the entire continent, but the only time they ever do anything is when their stability's at risk. And to none other than their own mages and Templars, I might add."

Cadash shrugged, leaning back to blend into the shadows with the ease only an accomplished criminal could.

"If it makes you feel better, I think that we're getting near the end of the first part of negotiations, at least. The last of the envoys have arrived. A bunch of Templars from the Free Marches, representatives from the Circle at Serault, a token delegation from Antiva, even some Grey Wardens. I even heard that the Right Hand of the Divine just arrived as well in Haven. Once she and her witness make the climb up here, we'll have everyone."

"That can't be everyone," Ellana looked at Cadash with surprise. "The Grand Enchanter hasn't arrived yet. Neither has the Lord Seeker."

"Yeah, while you were out here being all righteously Dalish, I was sneaking around in the rookery. Found letters addressed to the Divine. Looks like both of them are a no-show. They've sent spokesmen in their places, Knight-Commander Janeth and First Enchanter Parril. Both big names, so at least they're showing that they do take it seriously."

"Not seriously enough to actually show up, it seems." Ellana grumbled. "I can't believe these people. The Divine calls a peace summit and they don't even turn up? What is wrong with this lot?"

"Hey, it's hard to blame them. For all they know, this could be a trap."

Ellana gave Cadash an exasperated look.

"Really? The Chantry, whose only military force split and ran off, will set a trap?"

"Not the Divine. The other lot. If I was a Templar or mage, I'd be willing to trust the Divine (well, this Divine at least). I wouldn't be so carefree with the other lot, though. If I was a war leader, I'd be willing to sacrifice a couple of my people to take out the leadership of the other side."

Ellana kneaded her temples with her knuckles.

"I don't know what's worse, that you could think of all this, or that they probably did too."

"Hey, scum of the criminal underworld here, remember? That's only slightly less dishonorable than a politician."

The two stood in companionable silence, watching as the various parties bustled back and forth in the antechamber. Great braziers blazed, but while their roaring flames did an admirable job of keeping the biting Frostback chill at bay, nothing could be done for the frosty diplomacy of the assembled delegates. Templars stood together, gauntleted arms folded as they glared across the hall at the mages huddled together around a fire, magically conjured with the pure intent of spite, Ellana suspected. Around the hall, Qunari mercenaries stood at attention, grips tightening on their spears whenever members of different factions got close to one another. A few merchants, who Ellana suspected were involved with the lyrium trade, were gathered around a brazier, showing each other scrolls of parchment and muttering to one another as they scratched at their numbers and tried to unfreeze their inkwells. Some Grey Wardens, in their distinctive blue and silver, stood nearby, talking with one of the merchants. Ellana suspected that the Wardens were interested as to how the Conclave's resolutions would affect their recruitment from the Circles.

And scattered throughout the crowd, candle-like in their white-and-red uniforms, Chantry priests moved about, many reciting from the Chant of Light, but an equal number speaking quietly to one another in hushed voices.

"You feel it too, don't you?" Cadash muttered.

"Yup," Ellana replied.

The tension was cracking the icy politeness in the room, spidery fractures threatening to drop the whole Conclave into the freezing waters. With the Right Hand of the Divine and her firsthand witness, rumored to be one of the Champion's closest friends, the Conclave was reaching critical. The fate of the Circles hung on their testimony, and the finger of blame could finally settle, be it on Templar negligence and brutality or mage selfishness and irresponsibility.

Everyone knew it, too. The restlessness was palpable. People shifted, stood, paced, sat back down, shuffled to a side, stood up again, glared across the hall at their rivals, looked at the floor, glanced back at the doors leading to the Divine's personal quarters, waiting for her to remerge. This latest intermission would last only until the Right Hand made it up the mountain.

If only the Seeker could climb just a bit faster.

Ellana suddenly stood straight, pushing off the pillar. Cadash looked at her, surprised.

"What's with you?"

"I'm tired of waiting," Ellana decided. "If I can be there when the Seeker makes her report, I'll have a lot more information to send back to my clan with my next bird, and I won't have to just sit around and wait for the Conclave to make a decision. Besides, who knows what the Divine will choose to hide from us. Remember when there was an entire war brewing and she didn't tell anyone?"

"So, because you're worried about subterfuge, from a politician, you've decided that you're going to sneak into one of the most heavily defended places on this Stone-forsaken mountain just so you might get a bit of juicy info?" Cadash asked.

"Yup."

"That sounds… like an absolutely terrible plan," Cadash deadpanned.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"Look, even if you could somehow sneak into the Divine's personal quarters, you're running the risk, you, a Dalish spy, of being caught, by a Seeker. Do you even know what Seekers do to mages or Templars? Let me tell you, I work with raw lyrium, and the stuff I've seen that do to people is prettier."

"I won't get caught," Ellana replied. "I'm good at being stealthy, and eavesdropping's nothing compared to

"Surprising amount of confidence for a stick-twirler."

"Hey, I was training to be a hunter before my magic emerged," Ellana protested, stung. "And even then, all Dalish are expected to be able to sneak. That's who we are. The sneaky forest elves, remember?"

Cadash was unimpressed.

"Let's say you somehow manage to break into the Divine's quarters. What's the likelihood you find anything of particular importance that you couldn't just find out later during the Conclave?"

"About the same likelihood of a dwarf smuggler running into a Dalish spy and the two not instantly killing each other?"

"Point taken," Cadash sighed. "Go ahead, whatever," he said with a gesture. "I'll be right behind you."

"By which you mean you'll be on the battlements, as far away as possible and ready with a rope to jump off the mountain in case I get caught," Ellana supplied.

Cadash grinned. "Hey, career criminal, remember? I can't afford to let people know I was cavorting around with a tree-hugger, hurts my reputation."

Ellana rolled her eyes. "Creators forbid we hurt your reputation. If we take that away from you, there's so little left."

"Oh, a little joke! Never heard that one before."

"I'll be back in a few hours," Ellana reassured the unimpressed dwarf. "Just start working on your apology for when I find out that the Divine has, I don't know, a secret lover or something."

"Thanks for that image," Cadash groaned. "Because I really wanted to picture a sixty-something-year-old holy priest having someone chant her light."

Ellana was still chuckling under her breath as she stole into the Divine's apartments.