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“What a beautiful starry sky,” Leliana exclaims, looking to the clear heavens above Redcliffe and clasping her hands for joy. “And every constellation in plain sight.”
“They’re pretty and all,” Theramina said with a shrug, “but you do know I have no idea what they all mean, right? It’s not like your stars point the way in the Deep Roads. There are signs for that.”
“You only need know a few,” said Leliana. “Up there, over the crest of that mountain, is the Maker’s Cross. The brightest star is called the Eye, and it points us south.”
“Looks like the mouth of an ogre, eating up all the other stars,” the dwarf chuckles. “What about that one? Looks like a snake in the sky.”
“That’s the Wyvern.” Leliana shudders. “Orlesians hunt them, and I assure you they’re much uglier than that.”
“Beats chasing down the Blight, though.”
“Yes, I think it does too.”
They make up their own names and constellations all night, with Alistair and Zevran eventually chipping in their own contributions. It is a long night on watch against darkspawn, but Leliana considers it a happy one.
The next night they leave, with the Ogre’s Mouth at their back, Alistair’s Cheese setting below the horizon and Broodmother-on-Horseback careering across the heavens.