Chapter Text
“Maker’s breath!”
I startled awake as I was suddenly and unceremoniously dumped from my warm, comfortable bed onto a cold wood floor. I yelped when I landed, more shocked than hurt, but Cullen’s voice sounded panicked.
“Fen? Forgive me, I-”
“I’m alright. Just startled.” I eased myself off of the floor and peered over the edge of his bed. “Are you alright?”
He was sitting up with his hands clutching the blanket over his lap and of course he was the kind of guy who freaked out about morning wood. He blushed. “I…”
I gave him an out. “Didn’t expect me to still be here?”
He nodded hastily and I hid my amusement by looking up at the ceiling hole. It was still dark out. “How do you tell what time of the night it is?”
“I don’t.” He shook his head and glanced up at the hole and started to move to get up then blushed even redder, probably realizing he’d have to take the blankets with him if he wanted to keep hiding.
I helpfully turned my back to stand up and pretend to peer out the ceiling hole. “Well… I think I am going to have to write Sa’nehn a thank you note. He’s done a very good job making sure we weren’t disturbed.”
“Maker’s breath…” Cullen muttered.
I frowned at the ceiling. “Are you legally allowed to say ‘fuck’?”
“What?” He sounded baffled.
“I just only ever hear you use one swear phrase and I was wondering if you were legally allowed to use other profanity.”
“I… am not prohibited from swearing?” He still sounded adorably befuddled.
“So you can say fuck, you just choose not to.” I nodded and wondered if I could nudge Terys to bump up Cullen’s roof on the ‘to fix’ list. I made a slight gasping noise. “Or can you only say it once so you’re saving it?”
He let out a confused laugh. “Fen, I am a Commander, I can, and often do, use profanity’.”
“But do you say ‘fuck’? It’s a different level of profanity than ‘Andraste’s Ass’ or whatever is popular nowadays. Less near blasphemy and more, I dunno, feeling .” I figured that had been enough time for him to stop being embarrassed and turned to grin at him. He was pulling his boots on and had a slight, bemused smile on.
“Why is it good to know whether or not I use certain profanity?”
“It’s a classification system.” I waved my hand uncertainly. “It’s… huh. Really hard to explain to someone not familiar with it. But right now you’re either ‘legally not allowed to say fuck’ Or ‘can only say it once’.” I tilted my head and earned another laugh. “Or, you can say it but choose not to.”
“Perhaps…” he laughed, still blushing, but he didn’t look as embarrassed anymore. He finished pulling on his boots and stood… and immediately began stretching… because soldier. Right. I may have been staring. Then realized I was staring and that would horribly embarrass him. One last look and then I headed for the ladder, intending to remove the temptation of staring.
No sooner had I reached the bottom rung when I heard him. “Fen?”
“I’m down here.” I called back. There was a covered tray on his desk. “It looks like they left food for us.”
“We did.”
I jumped and let out a little shriek at the unexpected voice, then covered my mouth to stifle my laugh when I saw it was Gerald, who was slowly standing up from what looked like a makeshift bed near the door. And then I shrieked again because there was a loud thud right next to me because Cullen had apparently jumped from the loft and had his sword out and-
“Shit- No! He's with me! He just startled me!” I held out my hands in a ‘please stop’ gesture before Gerald decided he needed to ready a spell to defend me and things got intense.
Cullen blinked away his intense… -was that his ‘battle face’?- and then directed a confused, “Why is he in here?” to me and then a less confused and more irritated, “Why are you in here?” To Gerald.
“Keeping people from coming in and disturbing you.” Gerald said dryly. “Ser Wolf was adamant that the two of you not be disturbed until you were finished… resting.”
“Nothing happened.” Cullen immediately blurted out then colored and turned his back and rubbed the back of his neck. “Maker’s breath!”
“Dharlin, blurting out that nothing happened just makes them think something did. You have to redirect.” I rolled my eyes, yes, I was having a little fun at his expense, I am not perfect, and also he did sort of need to learn not to blurt that out to less forgiving people than my pack. “Like this: Well, we’re finished resting. Now shoo so we can play chess.” I made a ‘there you go’ gesture. “Shows them you are perfectly comfortable with the events that transpired, or in our case, did not. Nothing to be ashamed of, no gossip. ‘Oh look, they’re old boring duds who take naps and play board games’.”
“Quite boring.” Gerald rolled his eyes, then dipped his head in a slight nod/bow thing that city elves did. “I will inform Sa’nehn you are awake.”
“Don’t wake him up if he’s asleep. He’s still growing and needs the sleep.”
“And get stabbed for not waking him up? No thank you.” He huffed and slipped out of the door.
I frowned after him. “I need to have words with that fenlin about using his teeth on the pack.” I turned to look at Cullen, who was looking at the door with a troubled expression.
“Hey? You alright?”
His eyes found me and he shook his head. “It will be spread throughout Skyhold by the midday meal.” He set aside his sword and started pacing and looked distraught. “The soldiers will talk.”
“They do that.” I said slowly, then asked, concerned. “Is that going to cause problems for you?”
He stopped pacing and looked at me with a pained expression. “I’m not- it’s not me I’m concerned about.” He sighed and walked over to me and took one of my hands, gently. “They will talk, I can handle the scrutiny, but you… you will be seen as-“ he didn’t seem to want to finish as he looked away guiltily. “Forgive me.”
Oh! Yeah… that wasn’t really something I could avoid with my free approach to affection. “Cullen, as sweet as that thought is, I have pointed ears and I spend a lot of time around human men. I get called a knife-eared whore nearly every time someone doesn’t know I’m the Inquisitor’s friend or the Castellan.” I paused and then added. “And probably after too, but not where I can hear it.”
His gaze snapped back to me and his eyes hardened in a way I had never really seen before. “Who?”
“Again, sweet, but you can’t fight half of the human population of Thedas, dharlin.” He was still holding my hand.
His eyes immediately closed and he took a shuddering breath. “You… you shouldn’t call me that.”
“Sweet? Or Dharlin? Because both are kind of accurate.”
He made a small noise in the back of his throat that very much resembled a whine and shook his head. “It… even in a ‘platonic’?” He said it in a slight questioning tone. “re- relationship…” he stumbled over the word. “It’s not… not right.”
Oh boy. “I call a lot of people puppy and sweet, but if it bothers you I’ll try to stop.”
He blinked at me… then blinked again. “Darling?” The word came out a hesitant question, and oh, he was blushing again. And still holding my hand.
“Oh! Dharlin.” I enunciate the word carefully. “It’s ancient elvhen for puppy.”
He burst into relieved and embarrassed laughter. “You call me puppy?”
“Yes, like one of those huge Ferelden mabari dogs that just want ear scratches and treats.”
“They’re war dogs.” He said, in an affronted tone but he was grinning. It was a broad, honest smile and very, very beautiful.
“Yes, but they still want ear scratches and treats.” I patted his hands with my free hand and swallowed my stomach flutters.
“Is it so terrible to know what you want?” He asked, still grinning and, oh, I think he was feeling comfortable enough to tease.
“I can’t reach your ears.” I laughed.
“I could come to you?” Not a second after it was out of his mouth his whole face turned red and he abruptly dropped my hand. “That uh… sounded better in my head.”
I couldn’t help a slight laugh before shaking my head. “It’s fine.” My stomach turned from flutters to growls and I glanced at the covered tray on his desk. “Well… do you feel up to eating now?”
“Oh,” he nodded and moved to pull a chair that was set against the wall to the desk, gesturing for me to take a seat. I obliged and started taking the cover off while he moved to the other side of the desk.
“Sliced cheeses and fruits, and…” I prodded a flaky looking thing and punctured the apparent pastry crust. “Some sort of pie.” I licked my finger and made a satisfied noise. “Fish and mint.”
I looked up to look at Cullen and he glanced away and swallowed before clearing his throat and moving to his seat behind the desk. “I… think it is a Starkhaven dish.”
“Huh. I’ve never been.” I started scooting the pies into two piles because I did not trust getting my fair share if I didn’t. “I do like fish and mint though, almost as much as fish and lemon.” I bit into one of the pies. It was pretty good cold, which I figured was the point of them.
“I’ve had baked fish with lemon.” He said quietly, reaching for a pie. ”Lemons are difficult to grow in Ferelden, so it is considered a rarity.”
Unless you had magic… I not at all sneakily stole a piece of paper from the side of his desk and wrote ‘lemons’ on it in phonetic elvhen. “I had a lemon tree growing in my house when I was young. It was about as tall as you, and only produced maybe four lemons a year. My father would squeeze them and we would drink sweetened lemon juice every summer.”
“Were they sour? Even with honey or sugar?” Cullen questioned before biting into his pie.
“He liked to drink it with only a little sugar and his face would pucker up. I usually watered mine down and added extra sugar. Made it last longer and not as sour.”
Cullen chuckled and leaned back in his chair. “When I was younger my brother stole a few from a merchant in town. Of course he had me hold them so if he got caught I would be dragged into it with him. But he took them to the lake and dared me to eat one whole.” He chuckled again and looked out the window wistfully. “I must have had a permanent pucker for a week.”
I was definitely getting him some lemons. Nostalgia was a nice feeling. “Have you ever eaten a crayfish?”
He blinked and frowned at me. “I’ve never heard of that kind of fish.”
“It’s… huh, really hard to describe. It has a hard shell and claws for pinching and a lot of little legs and it’s shelled tail can curl up…”
He frowned thoughtfully. “Prawn?”
“Probably, yeah. Anyway, first time I ate one, no-one told me you were supposed to crack them open, so I bit into it, shell and all. And I was trying to be polite but I thought it was the nastiest thing ever, but I ate the whole thing.” I grimaced at the memory and snagged a slice of dried apple. “Or almost. I was down to the claws when my mom finally burst out laughing and showed me how I was supposed to eat it.”
Cullen burst into laughter and choked slightly on his pie before washing it down with a sip of water. “Tell me you didn’t eat the head?”
I made a mournful face. “It was the first part I ate because I wanted it to stop looking at me.”
Cullen gave up all attempts of finishing his pie and began laughing so hard he started wheezing. I tried to put a mock offended expression on but ended up bursting into giggles at both the memory and how utterly amused he was at the story. Eventually he caught his breath, though he still let out short, gasping laughs every few seconds. “Maker’s breath, Fen… why didn’t- why didn’t you just hide it in your napkin?”
I opened my mouth and then made a ‘huh’ noise. “It… never occurred to me.” I slumped into the chair and took another bite of pie. “I ate crayfish eyeballs and I didn’t have to… I am terrible at strategy.”
He shook his head and took a sip of his water again. “Somehow, I doubt that.”
“Well… I’m terrible at chess, less terrible at poker.” I shrugged.
He glanced down at the side of his desk where the drawers were, and I would bet that was where he kept his chess set. “You probably are not too terrible.”
“Oh no, I am. Wanna play me and get proof?”
That led to a chess game, that he somehow won in three moves. The second lasted three more moves. Four games later he was trying very, very hard not to laugh at me as I glared at the board. “Fen, you can't move the pawn, it puts your king in check.”
“You know what? Screw this.” I shoved the tray and board aside, rummaged around his papers and pulled out a map of Ferelden. I slapped it down and picked up my pieces and began arranging them over the marked cities. I stuck my king in Denerim and added a few higher ranked pieces around it for protection. “Pick a season, and then attack me.” I shoved his pieces towards him.
He blinked, then shrugged and arranged his pieces like what I assumed an invading army might look like. “Uh, autumn?”
“Excellent. You move first.” I rubbed my hands together. This, this I knew how to do.
He frowned at the map and then hesitantly moved his pieces towards the nearest city about what I assumed would be a day’s march distance. I marked the space in my mind, and then twirled the piece in the city. “I have my people begin burning all of the crops and houses.”
“What? Why would you do that? They’ll starve!” He gave me a look that I thought meant he was thinking this was going to go the same way the chess games had.
I raised my eyebrows at him and he sighed and moved his pieces closer for his turn. I moved my pieces away from his, taking every other turn to have my people stop and burn crops and houses. Once he was a decent way in, I left a few pawns in the areas marked ‘wilds’ and then had them start attacking the back of the army in quick feints to slow them down, all while my main pieces burned and retreated.
He was realizing my plan and he glanced up at me with a faintly horrified expression when after several moves I announced. “It’s the first snow of the season. The paths through the mountains to your supply routes have been buried.”
He frowned and then moved his pieces so they surrounded one of the major cities that still had one of my pieces in it. “I lay siege to your city.”
“We’ll both starve.” I pointed out.
“What else am I to do, retreat?”
“You can’t.” I gestured to the map. "The mountains are impassible this time of year, my people have burned all of the food between you and the north and are attacking at night, and to the south lay the wilds and more of my people retreating and burning everything edible they can’t carry with them. But here:” I twirled the piece in the city he had surrounded. “Your scouts report that they cannot see a single sign of soldier activity in my city. The only sign of combatants is that arrows will find a handful of your men that wander too close to the walls, but there is no pitched defense.”
“What are you doing?” He leaned forward and frowned at the map as if trying to parse out my reasoning.
“It’s your turn.” I kept my hands on the piece, a rook. One that moved in straight lines on a board, but here was my city guard. I had lost my templar piece when they hadn’t moved fast enough after destroying the nearby farms.
He glanced over the map again before shaking his head. “I have to take the city and hope to get supplies. I attack the walls.”
I nodded, and then twirled my piece again. “A messenger leaves the city and approaches you, saying that if you give them time to move all of the women and children out of the city, they will let you in.”
“This is a trap.” He narrowed his eyes at me.
“Yes.” I said simply.
“That I must spring. Maker’s breath…” He whispered and his eyes flicked over the map again before he decided. “Very well. The women and children can leave unaccosted in return for your surrender.”
I twirled the piece again. “You see lines and lines of people leaving the city with packs on their backs.” I paused to see if he would stop them, but he made no move against them. “Once they are beyond arrow shot, the gates swing open. You see what appears to be the city leader waiting inside. Alone.”
“Do I have templars?” He glanced over his pieces before tapping the bishop. “I bring my templars with me in case it is a magical attack, and I enter the city.”
I nodded. “As soon as you cross the gates, a lyrium charge made from the doses for my lost templars detonates, destroying the walls, nearby towers, and you and your templars.” I toppled my piece along with his king and ‘templar’ piece. “The city is yours.”
He leaned back in his seat and covered his mouth with his hand and was quiet for a moment before looking at me. “You allowed me to destroy myself. Starve my men, and get your people out while mine are left leaderless and starving.”
I gave him a conceding head tilt. “In real life you would also have had to deal with desertion and me sliding spies into your ranks. There might have been outbreaks of food poisoning, maybe tainted water. Missing lyrium doses… Little things that add up all while marching cold and hungry through barren enemy territory with hidden archers sniping from the trees.”
Cullen shook his head in bewilderment then frowned again. “Where did you learn this game?”
“Uh… it’s a very, very simplified version of a popular game from my homeland. We normally have dice to decide how lucky you were or how effective your attack was, if a storm hit, so on. It was one of my favorite games. My family used to play it together a lot.”
Cullen looked back at the map thoughtfully and I could see the wheels turning in his mind. “Could you… write down the rules and description of the game?”
“I can do my best. It’ll take me a while.” I warned. “It’s a fairly in depth game to pull from memory.”
Cullen nodded but his eyes were still glued to the map in thought. “Something like this would greatly improve the strategy training of our men… critical thinking under pressure for the best outcome.”
I fidgeted, suddenly uncertain of how wise it was to share Dungeons and Dragons lite to an actual military leader. “Could you not… share the tactic I used? It’s… Scorched Earth is brutal to put in action.”
He looked up at me as if breaking from his train of thought and straightened, “I… suppose not.” He frowned again and looked back at the map, “But I will privately explore the strategy if you do not object?”
I huffed in concession. “I don’t. You already had the beginnings of the idea from Haven.” I tapped my fallen piece. “At least make them work for it.”
His face immediately fell and he looked out the window before clearing his throat. “That… was not the finest moment of my career.”
“It was brilliant in the circumstances, Cullen.” I tapped my fallen piece again. “That wasn’t this person’s finest moment either. But the civilians were saved.”
He looked down at his hands and sighed before standing. “The Pa- your people are likely missing you.”
That was definitely a request for space. I stood up and wrapped my cloak around myself tightly. “Probably. Thank you for playing with me. I enjoyed myself. We should definitely do this again.”
He smiled and started walking with me to the door. “I would like that… however no chess.” he then huffed. “Maker, how can you do a strategy like that and be so inept at chess?”
“I’m terrible at following rules.” I snorted.
“So I’ve seen.” He laughed and opened the door for me. The sun was beginning to rise and turn the sky gray, and Sa’nehn was leaning against the wall next to the door.
I crossed my arms and frowned at him. “You should be sleeping.”
“I was.”
“Gerald is afraid you would stab him.”
“Is he?” He blinked at me innocently.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “I taught you too well.”
He abruptly grinned. “Probably.” He nodded to Cullen and then looked back to me. “Saam was wondering if you wanted to garden with her today since Ser Wolf was not here. Amund said he would walk with you in the Valley should you wish it.”
“That sounds awesome, actually, both plans. I can run a bit too.” Now that I wasn’t using as much magic to keep warm, maybe I’d be better able to exercise my wolf shape.
“Who is Ser Wolf?” Cullen asked, then winced as if unsure he was allowed to ask.
“Solas, as he attends our Lady Wolf.” Sa’nehn said with a slight smirk. I wondered when that joke would get old.
There were a few coughs and I looked past Sa’nehn to see a practical line of runners, papers in hand… waiting to see Cullen. Right. Cullen’s hand tightened slightly on my arm, I hadn’t even realized he had grabbed it, before he sighed and gave me an apologetic look that reeked of guilt.
“I’ll allow you to get back to work.” I patted his hand on my arm and he abruptly let me go. “Thank you for the chess games.”
“Oh. Yes.” There was a slight blush on his cheekbones and I despaired for him.
“I’ll see you around.” I gave him a bright smile and linked arms with Sa’nehn and walked along the line of runners at a casual pace. Sa’nehn’s hand stayed quietly threateningly on his dagger, no doubt to head off the comments I could see being bitten back.
We walked a little ways before he relaxed and started leading me toward the garden. “So… why are you opposed to sleeping and letting someone else take a shift?”
He frowned and shook his head. “I am not opposed to sleeping. I simply slept enough, now I am here.” He gave me an amused glance. “I am capable of taking my own advice and caring for myself.”
I laughed, that was pointed. We entered the garden to take the ramp down, and I paused a t another faint feeling of importance. I glanced around and found Rage sitting in front of the door to the little shrine the Chantry was confined to. I walked over and Rage ruffled at me. He is angry at himself, but he prays and the anger eases.
Who? I received my answer before I voiced my question by the door opening and Roderick exiting the shrine. He startled at the sight of me. “Oh, Castellan.”
“Are you alright?” He looked… odd. Tired but happy in a drained sort of way.
He blinked and then frowned. “Yes. No, I… It’s a matter of faith, Castellan. I do not think you…” He trailed off and then frowned again.
“I don’t think you’re a bad man.” I offered. In the game Cole had said he was sorry before he died.
He startled. “Oh.”
“Angry, scared, confused, but… not a bad man.”
“Thank you.” He said, surprisingly softly. “I am trying… to do better. Be more worthy of the- of...” He paused again and frowned and abruptly changed tracks. “You are not a believer. Why do you follow the Herald of Andraste?”
“He’s not my Herald, but my friend, and I believe he can protect us from what’s coming.”
His eyes fixed onto some distance over my head. “I prayed over you, while the Herald was lost in the snow. I knew the two of you were close, and you had worked so hard to save who you could, the last down the path. They told me that you had completely drained yourself in order to give one last act of magic to him. I… thought he was lost, that we were lost, but you had tried so hard and I-” He exhaled sharply. “And then he was found, kept alive by your magic and… I could not help but think that the true sign of the Maker’s hand was that a non believer would put so much effort into keeping the Herald alive even as his followers fought him at every turn. I was put in place to show the path to the people, and-” He cut himself off again. “Forgive me. I know this is not something you care to hear.”
“Does talking about it make you feel better?”
He nodded uncertainly.
“Then listening is the least I can do.”
He studied me for a long moment before looking away. “You… take people in, those in need.”
“I do. Those searching for what we can offer, I take in, and those that aren’t, I help how I can.”
”Then… Some of those that come to be prayed over, they need… May I send some of them to you?”
“Of course. I’ll do what I can.” This was… a little surreal.
“Thank you.” He nodded awkwardly and then took his leave. I stared after him for a minute before exhaling in confusion.
“I… don’t know what’s happening there.”
He has made you a symbol to his faith as you helped where he did not despite you not even believing Kost is Chosen.
I looked down as Wisdom booped Rage’s beak with her paw and then started winding around my ankles. “Well that's… unpleasant to think about.”
“Let’s get you to the Den, Tarlan’Fen.” Sa’nehn said as he snatched Wisdom up and rubbed her ears.
We went down the ramp and the first thing I noticed was Timothy and Andrew sitting with the pups in front of the sign. There were stacks of paper scattered around them and the pups were all studiously copying down the Vir’Fenes. I wandered over curiously. “Watcha doin’, fenlinen?”
“We’re practicing our elvhen letters.” Jim said around his tongue clutched between his teeth in concentration.
“And then we add the common translation.” Haleir added. “So we learn.”
“Then we’re going to go scatter them around Skyhold so people can learn.” Anise announced.
“And so we’re not wasting paper.” Ellas added.
I dropped a kiss onto all of their heads. “I’m proud of you all. That is an excellent idea.”
Some of the pack was eating from the big pot of porridge sitting over a warming glyph and I snagged a small bowl to make them happy, and snacked on it as I went through to say hi and catch up with the various members. After a minute I heard Rasa’s upset voice. “Mack? Mack! Up!”
I looked over to see her beating on Solas’ door, a little light clutched in her other hand. Lahnehn was trying to coax her away. “He’s not here right now, da’len. He had to go away for a bit.”
Abruptly Rasa’s face screwed up and she started to cry. “Mack!”
That was both ‘aww’ in a cute way and ‘aww’ in a sad way. I crouched down in front of her and conjured my own light. “Magic?”
She started to reach for the light and then scowled and pulled her hand back. “No! Mack!” She pointed at Solas’ door.
I checked the door for wards, and since there weren’t any, I opened it. “Solas isn’t here, fenlin.”
She stumbled into the room and looked around, even pulling the blanket off of the bed before slumping. “No mack.”
Seeing that Solas wasn’t there was apparently good enough for her to allow Lahnehn to pick her up and carry her off to where Sa’nehn was playing with Wisdom with a bit of string. I was sooooo going to tease Solas about collecting a child when he got back.
I went and found Saam and found her with Miadhal, Tamaris, Margaret, Lisa, Mae, and Fenvir, planning on what we were doing today. Apparently we were working in the valley today, to turn some earth with Loyalty’s help to plant some staples. I very quickly found that I was far, far too skinny to actually be much help. So with a quick check on my magic, I shifted into a wolf, drawing a shout of shock from the new wolves. Saam, for her part, just ruffled my ears with a laugh.
Tamaris worked with Loyalty to plow up the ground (where did we get a plow? I very much doubted Maeva managed to steal it by herself) and I found it was easier to dig the rows up in the wolf form after the others had pulled the grass from the broken earth. It was still very strenuous work, but manageable, though I had a very frustrating time trying to figure out how to drink the water Fenvir provided. Apparently drinking with a muzzle was not instinctive… I bit my tongue several times before I figured it out.
The sun was high up in the sky when Amund sauntered by and bopped me on the head before setting down a large basket that smelled of food beside me. “Change back ere you tire yourself again.”
I obliged, stretching out some sore chest and stomach muscles and grimaced. He huffed and disappeared into the trees, leaving me under Fenvir and Miadhal’s watchful but bewildered stares. They didn’t ask anything, so I went ahead and launched into a conversation with Saam, Mae, and Lisa about growing fruit trees with magic as we ate the lunch Amund had brought. As we talked about how long it might take to grow a tree with creation magic and the spells needed for keeping the area around it in season, I had a very, very interesting idea forming about bringing in some non Inquisition sourced funds for the Pack.
If we could get some of the ‘exotic’ fruit trees and grow them in the middle of the frostbacks… we would practically have a monopoly on the fruit export… I tentatively pitched it to them, and Saam’s eyes lit up.
“I would like that very much!”
Margaret suddenly let out a stream of Qunlat, the first she had spoken since I came out, gesturing animatedly around the valley. Saam listened intently, her smile growing wider by the syllable before she crouched down and smoothed a patch of dirt and began writing a list of fruits with her fingers.
They wouldn’t let me help anymore, so I ended up just brainstorming with them, trying to figure out how many mages we would need per tree, the time needed to produce, all the little details that had to be thought of for this kind of venture.
Tamaris was chewing on a piece of dried apple as he looked over the valley. “How many mages do we have?”
I did a finger count. “Six, not including Andrew, Solas, or the children.”
“We need more.” He made a face. “Never thought I’d say that.”
“The Pack is still young.” I pointed out. “We’ll probably get more.”
Lisa hummed. “We should start small… a pair of each type, something we can handle with the mages we have. Then, as the pack grows, we can do that process you spoke of.”
“Rooting.” Mae said. “We would need a willow tree as well for the solution.”
“As well as making painkillers and weaving.” I looked over the ancient trees ringing the valley. “We need to explore the trees and see what types we have. If we have oak trees I know how to make acorn flour that can be used instead of cornmeal. If we have nut trees, we can gather and sell them or eat them… Nuts are good for growing children. There might be berry bushes… We need to find someone who can identify plants and have them explore and mark the useful trees and shrubs.”
Fenvir hesitated, glancing around warily before speaking, “I… have some experience with gathering from the wild forests. If you would entrust such a task to me… I would be willing...”
“Oh! Thank you!” I beamed at him, happy he had volunteered for such a massive undertaking. “That would be a huge help!”
He blinked, looking startled, but stood from where he had been working next to Mae. “I will start immediately, the valley is large, it will take time to completely explore.”
“Would you be willing to let any of the pack who wants to follow you and learn? You don’t have to, that’s alright too.” I was a little surprised at how eager he was, but he seemed the quiet sort and maybe he liked the quiet.
He looked startled again, his eyes wide, but then nodded. “Of course, Tarlan’Fen. I… will ask at the evening meal who would want to?”
He is surprised at the trust you show in his loyalty. Loyalty said with an amused tone. And eager to prove himself.
Ah. I hefted myself to my feet and moved to stand on tiptoe to give Fenvir a head bump, which he ducked slightly to accept. “Ma serannas, fen’falon.”
He swallowed and hesitated before moving towards the woods. I bounced on my toes a few times before realizing: the only other elf I had to go on full tiptoe for was Solas… The only ancient elf I knew of. “Son of a bitch.”