[Vaprakgruumsh]

William threw another log onto the fire and sat next to the woman, who looked at William strangely and slowly edged away from him. William’s eyes went from her, to the fire, then back to her. “What is your name?” William asked, trying to get her to speak. Since dispatching the Darkspawn that had been chasing her, she had barely said a word. Instead, she clung to some candle in her hand, repeatedly saying the Chant of Light over and over in hushed tones.

The woman looked up from her prayers, her soft green eyes, despite her body being covered in soot, were sharp, alive, almost glowing with life. “My name is Navah.” She answered, looked from William to Quinn, then returned to her silent prayers.

“Where was your precious Maker,” Quinn growled, tired of her whispering chant, “when the Brigands came to rape you? Where was your precious Maker when the Darkspawn slaughtered all the sisters from the Chantry? While you were on a Mission to spread the word of the Maker – of the prophet Andraste?”

Navah looked at Quinn, closed her eyes, and resumed praying. “And thus fell the eye of the Maker upon Andraste, she who would be raised up from outcast to become His bride. From her lips would fall the Chant of Light, at her command would the legions of righteousness fall upon the world.”

Quinn looked at William across the camp fire. “It’s hopeless,” he shrugged. “You should have let the Darkspawn have her.”

If the words were meant to offend or strike fear into the heart of Navah, she gave no indication. With her head bowed she continued praying repeatedly to the Maker.

Quinn, perhaps disappointed by the lack of reaction from Navah decided to torment William again. “First, you pay the Highway Men for some kind of toll. Then purchase the mutt,” Quinn gestured to Forodin who slept soundly next to William, “then you pay the Elves for their blanket, rather than take what you need from them, and then you rescue her from the Darkspawn. Could you, sometime before this is all said and done, perhaps make a good choice?”

William simply looked at Quinn and shook his head. Turning slight, his soft, blue eyes met her timid, yet sparkling green eyes, as the reflection of the flames danced in her eyes. She wasn’t praying anymore. She was simply staring at William. “Is something wrong?”

As if suddenly realizing she had been staring for long moments, she fumbled over her words like a blind man stumbles through a room with children’s toys scattered on the floor. “What?” She stammered instinctively, trying to buy herself time to recover. “No, I just thought that I… heard something.”

Quinn sighed. Loudly. Enough to ensure the other two knew of his annoyance. She was attracted to William. Quinn could see the way she had been looking at him. Conflicted between her flustered heart and what she believed was right and wrong, according to the Chant of Light.

William, oblivious Quinn noted, smiled back at her. “Do not worry. Forodin is Mabari. Nothing sneaks up on the Mabari. If there’s something out there, Forodin would alert us with his growls. We’re safe for now. It’s probably only your nerves. You survived a harrowing experience.”

She looked at William, then looked down. Tears stung the corner of her eyes. “I have prayed and prayed to the Maker… but sometimes I don’t hear Him. I don’t… feel Him anymore. I am frightened.”

“The Maker is still with us,” William assured her, placing his hand tenderly on her shoulder. “As we battle the Darkspawn, He must no doubt be fighting the Arch-Demon on some Plane within the Fade.”

“Do you believe in the Maker,” Navah asked, looking directly into William’s eyes.

William smiled but looked away. “I have seen too many things. Too many things in this world that allows me to believe that there is a Maker out there… somewhere… who loves us and cares for us.”

“I see,” Navah whispered and frowned. She stared at the fire for a long moment, before she looked back at William. For a brief moment, her eyes looked at Quinn, who appeared to be asleep, before looking back at William. “I am sorry for what the Maker has put you through. The Maker knows you’re strong. He has tested you. Forced you to endure perhaps things no other person could have hoped to endure. He has prepared you for this Blight. Do not lose hope in the Maker, for He has not lost hope in you.”

William looked away, casting his gaze once again towards the fire. “I hope you are right, Navah.” He looked at her and smiled, stunned by the beauty that gazed back at him. “I would like to hope that one day, once more, I will see a Light, rather than this Darkness that surrounds me.”

“Why do you travel with a Blood Mage,” Navah asked, her questioning, lively eyes locked with William’s.

“He saved my life,” William shrugged. “As a Grey Warden, we sometimes have… questionable allies. Allies that… the Chantry would not approve of. Such as,” he looked to Quinn then back to Navah, “Blood Mages.” Navah seemed to blanch at the notion. “I don’t expect you to understand,” he whispered.

“The Maker,” Navah said, “He forgives you for the Alliances you make during a Blight. When it is over, come back to Him. Ask Him to understand.”

“I don’t think I can ever find my way back to the Maker’s grace,” William answered, looking at Navah. “I am Grey Warden. If you understood what it took to become a Grey Warden… You would look at me the same way you look at him,” he pointed to Quinn with the stick he had used to poke the fire.

“I doubt it,” she muttered to herself.