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The first year, she was angry all the time. Valta knew she was being punished and even the most interesting finds weren’t enough to assuage her. That Legionnaire, Renn, who was assigned to her was coarse and abrupt and he didn’t understand her need to explore or her desire to get enough sleep.
The darkspawn stink was everywhere down here. It wasn’t helping her attitude.
In time, the anger blunted and was numbed by the necessity of survival. She didn’t have to time to waste on anger because then there would be nothing left for history after the needs of staying alive were met.
One morning she woke feeling like the three hours of sleep she’d eked out on the floor of a cave were actually enough. The fire had burned down to embers but it was still comfortably warm. Her muscles didn’t ache like they had, finally becoming accustomed to action instead of study in the Shaperate. Her head didn’t hurt.
A few feet away, Renn was humming a tune under his breath while he polished his armor.
He hardly ever slept.
Valta sat up and listened for a while. She didn’t recognize the song, but it was familiar. It gave her a strange feeling.
“What song is that?” she asked him and she noticed that for once she didn’t sound irritated when she was talking to him.
Renn looked up calmly. In the Shaperate, an interruption like that would have gotten a dirty look at the least. He looked unperturbed.
“I don’t know,” he said. Before she could ask, he added quickly. “We hear it down here sometimes. Some of the others say its the Song of the Stone, but they’re crazy.”
“The stone sounds different,” she said expecting him to roll his eyes at her stone sense, as he usually did. His face was impassive instead. “But it’s nice. Is there more?”
“Just kind of repeats like that,” he said and shrugged. When she didn’t say anything in reply, he just smiled faintly and went back to his armor. Eventually he started to hum again.
**
Renn found her cutting her hair. Valta, like so many women in Orzammar had long hair she wore in intricate braids. But like all the rest, she eventually figured out it wasn’t worth it out here. She lasted longer than most, more than a year before he heard the distinctive snick of a blade through her hair.
Stubborn as a bronto, that woman.
She did a terrible job, her hair hacked to just below her shoulders in a ragged line. Her lips were a thinner line in the middle of her face.
“Here, let me do it,” he said, snatching the dagger out of her hand. He almost expected her to fight him, but her hand fell limply into her lap. She frowned.
“I was so proud of it,” she said, her voice uncharacteristically soft.
Renn grunted. He sliced through the uneven ends of her hair, making a smooth, even line that brushed the shoulders of her armor. Despite wielding an axe as big as she was, his hands were gentle. Even through the callouses he noticed how silky her hair was.
Sure, it was nice, but it was just hair. Women. “Hardly your best quality, though it was prettier than your shield work.”
“Fuck you Renn,” she snapped. Ancestor’s tits, she was in a mood. He smirked at her back.
“Didn’t know you were interested,” he snarked. “Good to know.”
Valta jerked away from him, glaring at him over her shoulder. She only managed anger for a few heartbeats before her expression crumpled back into sadness.
“Don’t make fun,” she said. “It was important to me.”
“Was,” he repeated back to her. “But if you want to stay alive, you best fix your priorities.” Renn shook his head. “Out here, you have survival. Sometimes, you have a few moments to breathe between battles, but mostly you have now. The moment. That’s it. Don’t waste time on stuff that doesn’t matter.”
She looked down. “I know. That’s why I cut it.” She ran a hand through her hair before catching it up into a ponytail on the back of her head. She tied it back out of her face and turned her eyes back to Renn. “I think I kept hoping I’d get to go home someday. But this means I won’t.”
Renn shrugged. “Too bad you didn’t get a funeral, like we do. Sort of shuts that down, right off.”
“Is it really that easy?” she asked.
“No,” Renn admitted. He sighed irritably and changed the subject. “You ready to move on? You said you wanted to reach the next spot before we make camp for the night..” He didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want to be here any more than she did. She probably thought he was some fucking criminal. That was better than the truth.
“Right. yes.” she said. He didn’t know if she noticed how he always avoided talking about anything important. He told himself he didn’t care. He was dead. That’s how it was.
He grabbed his pack, his axe and heard the sound of Valta sheathing her dagger. He ignored that nagging voice that wanted to tell her he understood how hard it was. Fucking tearful bullshit. No time for that when there were darkspawn and deepstalkers and spiders breathing down your neck.
“Thanks Renn,” Valta said as she slung her shield on to her back. He raised an eyebrow questioningly, but he felt an ache in his chest. He didn’t want to talk about it, but he’d admitted it, hadn’t he, with just a simple no. Maybe they… “For the haircut,” she continued, shutting him down without realizing it.
“Yeah,” he said, doing his best to not be disappointed and instead being mortified at himself. Fuck man, get hold of yourself. What are you, a schoolgirl? “Any time.”
**
He grabbed the back of her armor just in time to prevent her from careening off into the abysmal nothing. Valta made a completely undignified squeak as she stumbled back into him, their armor clanking together, the metallic sound echoing.
Holes everywhere out here. There were tremors all the time, of course, but something major had caused this destruction. But that’s what they were out here to find, wasn’t it? It wasn’t just darkspawn that destroyed the Deep Roads. There were other things too, things no one knew about or understood. Valta just knew it.
Maybe she couldn’t go home, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t change it. They might try to hide the things that were inconvenient, like she was, but that wouldn’t stop her.
She would find the truth. But first she had to not kill herself by falling down a hole.
“Ancestor’s tits,” Renn swore. He sounded winded. “Almost lost you.”
He sounded legitimately disturbed. She smiled, but only because he couldn’t see her. His big hand still had a death grip on the back of her cuirass. The cool metal of his gauntlet brushed against her skin on her neck.
“That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” she said, snidely.
Renn chuckled. “Right, to keep Princess History from falling into a bottomless pit.”
“I’m no Princess,” she snorted. “And I’m sure it’s not bottomless.”
Renn grabbed a loose stone from the ground, his other hand still firmly gripping Valta. He tossed it into the crack she almost tumbled into. They waited for the sound of the stone hitting the bottom. They waited for a long time but were only greeted with silence.
“How’s about that?” Renn said abruptly, startling her.
Valta let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “And I thought dying by the Blight would be the worst fate down here.”
“I wonder what that’s like, just falling forever.” He leaned over her shoulder to look down into the blackness. “It does feel like it should go somewhere eventually.”
She felt his breath on the side of her neck. She let herself rest back against his solidity. He felt safer than the stone under her feet. Considering her connection to the stone, she was surprised at herself for thinking it. She tried not to overthink it. If she’d learned anything down here in the last two years, it was that all you had was right now.
She learned to enjoy too much ale and the warmth of a fire and Renn’s bad jokes.
Valta felt his fingers loosen their grip on her armor, but his hand stayed up on her shoulder almost absently, almost daring her to move away. But she didn’t. She liked this moment.
“Maybe it goes to the Fade,” she commented.
“Hm,” Renn grunted. “Might be worth jumping in then. Always been curious about what dreaming is like.”
“Somehow I don’t think that’s the way to find out. Besides, you ever listen to that Brother who likes to shout in the Merchant Quarter?”
“The who?”
Oh, right. That was during the Blight and he was gone by then. Valta missed Orzammar sometimes still. Renn missed so much he didn’t even know about. She wondered if it ever made him sad.
“There’s a Chantry in Orzammar now, if you can believe it,” Valta explained. “Topsiders say some Tevinter mage got into the Fade and that’s the reason there’s a Blight.”
“Figures,” he said. He paused almost thoughtfully. “What does the Shaperate say started the Blight?”
“They don’t,” she said. “We only deal in facts, not theories.” She cocked her body towards him so she could get a look at him. She expected him to move his hand, but it stayed right where it was. She was careful not to dislodge it.
“Could have fooled me, with all that wild stone sense business.”
Valta sighed. Not this again. “Just because you can’t hear it, doesn’t mean it’s not true. Have I been wrong yet?”
He shrugged. “No, but you’d think it would point out the giant holes in the floor. That might be more useful.”
Same argument as always. It didn’t bother her. She knew he respected her, despite his bluster. She put her hand on his forearm. The metal bracer was warm from his body underneath. “Thanks, Renn. Fade or stone sense aside, I’m not sure a bottomless pit is something I wanted to test just yet.”
“Any time Valta,” he said. The corner of his mouth quirked. “Besides, who would I have to argue with if you weren’t here?”
“You could argue with a stone if it got too fanciful,” she said.
“But don’t stones have sense?” He snickered, looked pleased with himself.
Valta rolled her eyes and groaned. “I swear, I didn’t think the jokes could get worse, but I was wrong.”
Renn laughed and his green eyes twinkled at her. He still didn’t move his hand.
**
He was watching her, again. So fucking stupid. They’d been alone too long this time. More than three months crawling through tunnels and digging through rubble. They had some small trinkets, and some crazy book about something called a Titan that Valta seemed intrigued by.
Renn really wanted a drink and he really needed to see a woman other than Valta before he lost his mind.
She was brushing her hair, out of her armor. They found a safe little room with a heavy door and of all things a bath. Her hair was wet, but she was clean and he could practically feel the contentment rolling off of her. She was smiling faintly as she worked out the tangles.
He knew he should go next, but he was so covered in scars and bruises. Normally that wouldn’t have bothered him. He’d walk around naked in camp if it wasn’t for the damn spiders always sneaking up on them.
But he was having some trouble lately.
He liked her. It was like he was twelve years old with a crush.
He told her the truth of why he was here. He hadn’t told anyone else. He let the other’s guess. The truth wouldn’t have impressed the Carta members, the petty thieves, the murderers and he needed their obedience when the time came.
He was a cobbler, paying off his father’s debts. He wasn’t a badass. He was just good with his hands, and thank the Ancestors that translated into being good with an axe too. Valta was sympathetic. It made sense. She didn’t really want to be here either.
Renn was glad she was here. It wouldn’t have been the same without her.
She caught him staring. “You going to take a turn?” she asked. “You stink.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he snarked, trying to be nonchalant about it. “Fine.”
He turned his back to her and started to get out of his armor. She was right; he did stink. He set his breastplate on the ground need to his gauntlets and pauldrons. Renn pulled his gambeson off over his head and heard her intake of breath.
He knew it was bad. There was a scar, raised and red that ran along his spine, snaking around his ribs. He knew was lucky he hadn’t gotten darkspawn blood in the wound, after they caught him off guard and tore him open. He knew he was lucky to be alive. Now Valta knew it too.
“What happened?” she asked. She was on her feet, hairbrush forgotten. He felt the tip of her fingers touch the ridge of the scar.
“Shrieks,” he muttered as her cool fingers danced over the length of the scar. “Told you they were my favorite.” Her fingers continued to move, up around towards his ribs. Once, those gashes hurt more than anything he’d ever experienced. Now, they tickled. He grabbed at her fingers, capturing her hand in him and spun on her.
She didn’t startle as easy anymore, but the movement still surprised her. Her other hand came up quickly and landed on his hairy chest. He expected her to jerk away from him, but she didn’t move, just canted her eyes up to look at him.
“How did you survive that?” she asked.
“Just stubborn.”
They looked at each other for a long moment. Renn actually considered moving in closer. It was just the two of them and...Valta wrinkled her nose and pushed him away.
“Ugh,” she said. “You need two baths.”
“Probably three,” Renn chuckled. She grinned at him.
“I won’t peek,” she said, smirking. Her cheeks were red. “But I’ll wash your back if you ask nicely.”
“Feel free to peek all your like,” he said, his earlier trepidation gone. Was this really going where it sounded like it was going? “I have all sorts of interesting scars.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” She stuck the tip of her tongue out between her teeth.
Well. He might be dead, but he wasn’t dead just yet.
**
She washed his hair too. Renn’s hair was almost as long as hers was, usually half tied back on his head. Loose like this, it hung on the sides of his face, parted into the middle. It was thick and warm and he practically purred with delight when she dragged her fingers over his scalp.
Valta was glad for the excuse to touch him. Sometimes she wondered if she felt like this because it was just the two of them so often. Back home, she was surrounded by people, even when she didn’t want to be. She was touched all the time, even just in passing; shoulders brushing in the aisle of the Shaperate, jostling against the crowd in the merchant stalls, and more rarely, on purpose when she let someone get close.
She didn’t do that often. But Renn? They...she didn’t know. Were they close?
Once he was clean, she made herself scarce by going to grab their washables while he dressed. After he was decent, well, wearing pants, she threw their foul smelling gambesons and padding into the tub. The water turned dark with dried blood, dust and assorted filth. She left them to soak and joined him back at the fire. Renn was lounging against the wall, barefoot and still shirtless. He had his hands laced behind his head as he leaned against the wall.
“By the stone, it is nice to not be cooped up in that tin can for once,” he said. “Armor’s saved my life more times than I care to count, but the air feels good.”
“Doesn’t even smell much like darkspawn here,” Valta commented, coming to sit down next to him. She leaned back against the wall too, lolling her head over to look at him.
She debated.
Renn was good company, but he was her only company. She wanted to be closer, or at least she thought she did, but she didn’t want to make it awkward. After almost three years working together, they’d finally found a rhythm, a comfort in exploration and in battle. Was it worth the risk to change the song?
He turned to look at her and smiled momentarily but it faded quickly. His eyes flicked to her mouth and then back to her eyes. He licked his lips unconsciously. He put his arms down at his sides.
She swallowed hard. Her bare shoulder touched his arm.
Renn frowned. “Valta.” He said her name like a question, pleading and frustrated all at once. “What are we doing?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t even know if we should. Or why we shouldn’t.”
“Valta, I can't...I’m dead.”
Valta sighed irritably. “No. You’re not. Not any more than I am. Maybe I get to send reports home, but I’m not any more welcome than you are.”
“You don’t understand. I have to be dead,” Renn said, shaking his head at her like a child. “Its the only reason I’m useful to anyone. If I’m not-”
Valta cut him off. “Stop it.” She turned towards him and put her hand on his shoulder. “If you want to be dead when you put the armor back on, so you can do this, I won’t stop you. But don’t.” She got up on her knees and turned her body so she could look at him. ”You aren’t only useful as a shield for darkspawn.”
He snapped at her, sitting up from against the wall. “What the fuck else am I? I have responsibilities. I left everything behind to protect my family.” He gestured helplessly. “If I’m not fodder for the darkspawn, what am I good for?”
Valta grabbed his wrist, pulled herself in and kissed him.
At first, he seemed too stunned to respond, but then he grabbed her and kissed her back fiercely. She revelled in the wiry bristle of his beard, his firm lips, his rough fingers grabbing at her bare arm.
She was wild, three years of pent up feeling just coming out all at once. Valta found herself tugging at him, pushing him down on to his back on the stone floor. She swung a leg over him, pinning him underneath her. She dug her palms into the joints at his shoulders.
Still, he could have thrown her off, she knew. He did strain against her, but only to get closer.
“Valta,” he whispered against her mouth. “We shouldn’t.”
“Why not?” she said. This was just the sort of emotionally irresponsible thing she did. It’s what got her here in the first place.
She didn’t regret it. Not anymore.
“I’m going to die down here,” he muttered. “So are you. Why make it harder?”
Valta shook her head and kissed the corner of his mouth. “If I stop,” she began, pressing her cheek against his, his lips near his ear. “Is it going to change anything?” She pressed her lips to the shell of his ear. “If I walk away are you going to want it any less?”
She nipped at his ear lobe and Renn growled, flipping her over on to her back. Valta looked up at him, trying to catch her breath.
“I don’t just want this,” he said. He voice caught. “I don’t just want you.”
“You don’t want me?” Valta’s heart dropped.
“Oh, I more than want you. I-”
He didn’t finish and didn’t give her a chance to reply. Renn kissed her hard then pulled away, just as abruptly.
“We shouldn’t,” he said, shaking his head at her. “We still shouldn’t.”
Valta pursed her lips. He was blasted impossible. “Renn?”
“Yes Valta?”
“Shut up.” She grabbed the back of his neck, levering herself up to kissing him again. “You’re infuriating.”
He smiled as he let himself be moved, be pulled down towards her. “This is so stupid.”
“Yes, well, I love you too, you stupid oaf,” she said and she could feel him shiver at those words. “Now kiss me again, will you?”
And he did.
**
They woke when the wall collapsed. A tremor rocked the cavern and torn apart their protection. They managed to get into their armor, save their weapons and supplies before the entire room crumbled around them.
There was another crack and the ground shook hard under their feet, throwing Renn and Valta to their knees. There was a rush of air, a wind of sorts and it stank of darkspawn and lyrium, foul dark blood and death. Renn knew, he knew right away what happened.
“Valta, the seal at the lyruim mine,” he said. His voice was still gruff with sleep, warm deep sleep after making love, wrapped around Valta the way he’d dreamed about a hundred times before. “It has to be the seal to the infested roads. We need to get back.”
Valta nodded. She was fanciful, with her head so far in the past sometimes, but she knew what was really important. “Let’s go.”
Renn put his hand on her back. “Valta, before we go, I need to say it. Valta, I-”
She put her finger over his lips. “Tell me later.”
“We can’t know there will be a later,” he said. “We can’t-”
“Shh,” she hushed him. “I know. I always knew.”
Renn could only nod. He always knew too.
Together, they hurried back toward the seal at the mine and the Legion base camp. Who knew what they’d find, but they’d manage. They always did.