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“It’s been a month,” Bethany said for perhaps the fifth time that morning.
Her brother rolled his eyes and turned back to the shopkeeper.
“How much for a bushel?” he asked, lifting up the peach in his hand.
“Four sovereigns.”
His eyes widened and he smacked the peach down into the basket with the others.
“Are you serious? For a fucking overripe peach?” he demanded.
The shopkeeper glowered.
“My peaches are not overripe!”
“They’re practically rotten!” he shot back.
He turned round and shouted to the people standing around, bartering with other shopkeepers.
“Hey!” he called out, cupping his hands around his mouth. “This shopkeeper is overcharging for rotten fruit!”
Bethany sighed. She missed Carver. He had gone to join the King’s army at Ostagar a month ago and so she was spending most of her time with Beau, which meant that a lot of scenes were being caused, which brought a lot of attention right on them.
“Alright, fine,” the shopkeeper hissed. “Two sovereigns.”
“I THINK I JUST SAW A WORM!”
The shopkeeper scrambled forward and grabbed onto one of Beau’s thickly muscled arms.
“Alright, alright--fifty silver for a bushel.”
Beau grinned and said, “Deal.”
He handed the bag of silvers over and they both waited for the shopkeeper to count them before taking their bushel.
“Do we really need all these peaches?” she asked.
Without Carver there, there was so much more extra food in the house.
“Mother’s baking to get her mind off of worrying about Carver so--yes.”
Bethany sighed again. She didn’t even like peaches. The only peaches she liked was Carver’s friend...and Peaches wasn’t even her real name. She and Beau turned to head past the windmill and back towards the outskirts of town where they lived when something caught the corner of her eye.
On the south side of town, she saw people coming in off of the Imperial highway. They were setting up tents on ground or continuing to walk into town. She looked up to see that Beau was glancing their way as well.
“What’s going on?” she wondered aloud.
“I dunno...”
She waited for it.
“But I’m going to find out.”
There it was. Beau tucked bushel into one arm and headed to one of the newcomers as they began walking towards the chantry.
“Ho, friend,” he said in a loud, jovial voice.
The man stopped and stared, eyes wide with fright as if Beau had drawn a knife on him.
“I...” The fear cleared from his eyes. “Oh, you’re...yes, right. I am not sure about the others but I’m getting out of the south while the getting’s good.”
“Why?”
The man frowned. “You haven’t heard?”
“No, I just like asking why--of course I haven’t heard!”
Bethany had a feeling the man was fleeing the Darkspawn. Maybe this truly was a new Blight.
“The Darkspawn!” the man exclaimed.
Beau rolled his eyes.
“Oh, that old thing?”
She sighed. She loved her brother but he so often was unbearable like this.
“And after Ostagar...”
Her head snapped up. “What about Ostagar?”
“You haven’t heard?”
“No!” this time, she and Beau shouted in unison.
Her brother got in his face, suddenly serious.
“What happened?” he demanded.
“The Grey Wardens killed the King! Everyone was slaughtered!”
Bethany had a hard time believing the first part. She had heard the legends of the Grey Wardens. Why would they kill the King? What did that have to do with ending the Blight?
“The Wardens? Seriously? That’s the story?” Beau’s expression softened.
“The news came straight from Teryn Loghain’s mouth!” the man insisted.
In truth, Bethany always felt like a bad Fereldan because she never really liked the Teryn. He had come to Lothering once after King Maric had died. He had stopped for supplies and he’d frightened her. To make her feel better, Carver had made faces behind his back when he wasn’t looking. Carver...
The second part of what he said registered.
“The troops were killed?” she asked.
The man nodded. “Only the Teryn’s men survived.”
Beau snorted. “Convenient.”
Dread began gnawing at Bethany’s stomach. Slaughtered...Carver...maybe he was one of the Teryn’s men? No, they would just be troops from Gwaren, wouldn’t they? She felt suddenly ill. Beau looked over and, perhaps her fear registered on her face, because he placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Let’s get home before these peaches really do turn,” he said softly.
He nodded a farewell to the man and guided Bethany back the other direction towards home.
“He’s fine,” he assured her as they passed back through the marketplace. “I’m sure he’s fine.”
Bethany clutched her shoulders and shook. Carver...her twin. He was obnoxious and loud and whiny but he was her twin. The thought of him dead was...she didn’t want to think about it. She was so preoccupied with her thoughts, they she didn’t even blink at the caged Qunari they had to pass every time they went to their house. Usually, seeing him made her shiver, remembering what he had done to her friend’s family. Now, she only thought of Carver.
At home, she helped mother take the pits out of the peaches as Beau rolled around on the floor with his Mabari.
“If the Darkspawn are coming, we should get out of here,” he said, lifting his head back as Rufus slobbered all over his face.
Mother smiled at him in the same way she did when he would say he was going to slay a dragon or when Carver said he wanted to be a Grey Warden.
“In good time, my darling.”
She was waiting for Carver. Neither of them had told her what the refugee had said. She pitted another peach and accidentally flung it to the floor.
“Oh...sorry, mother.”
Bethany put her knife down and reached down for the pit. As her fingers closed over its wrinkled surface, the door banged open. She sat up in an instant, banging her arm on the side of the table. Dull pain ran down her arm but she barely felt it. Standing in the doorway, sweaty and panting, was Carver.
“Carver!” mother stood and rushed to him, taking him into his arms--sweat and all. “Are you hurt?”
Unable to speak--did he run all the way here from Ostagar?--he simply shook his head. Mother led him to the table and sat him down in a chair.
“I’ll get you some water, dear.”
While he waited, Bethany saw him sneak a sliver of peach into his mouth. Breath she didn’t know she was holding was released. Carver was alright. Mother returned with a cup and he drank it greedily.
“So...what’s the good word?” Beau asked.
He swallowed and shook a little.
“We have to go,” he said. After each word was a small pause as he caught his breath. “Now.”