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[Sarah1281]

So I've been writing Dragon Age fanfics for the past...four and a half months now and so I figured that I may as well have a thread here about them. I've written at least a one-shot about all of the origins although most of the early ones are about my DN, Aunn, because she's my favorite.

Of course, when I started I had only played through one origin and so hopefully they get more IC and lore-correct as they go on.

Modifié par Sarah1281, 30 janvier 2011 - 02:02 .

[Sarah1281]

The first one I wrote is called 'Now You're Just Inventing Problems' and is a parody involving Anastasia Cousland being annoyed that an unhardened Alistair won't commit to their relationship right before entering the Landsmeet:

Anastasia Cousland pulled her sword out of Ser Cauthrien's body and wiped it on the fallen knight's clothes before resheathing it and turning to her currently infuriating boyfriend. "Alistair, we need to talk."

Alistair, seemingly unaware of all the stress he was causing everyone around him, merely groaned. "Those are the last words any guy wants to hear."

"Well, I'm sorry," Anastasia apologized insincerely, "but we need to."

"Is now really the best time?" Alistair asked, eyeing the door to the Landsmeet like he was giving serious consideration to just making a break for it and joining the rest of their companions who were already inside. "We're late as it is and the Landsmeet is kind of, you know, important."

Anastasia shook her head stubbornly and stepped in Alistair's path to prevent him from giving into the temptation to flee. "Like you said, we're already late and Arl Eamon's doing his best to stall. Another five minutes won't kill us or damn Fereldon."

"It might," Alistair muttered. "Loghain works fast."

Anastasia rolled her eyes. "If necessary, Arl Eamon can just start monologuing. He's old enough for that to be believable as something other than an obvious delaying tactic."

Alistair shot one last longing look towards the door in front of him before sighing resignedly and turning his full attention towards his fellow Warden. "Fine. What is it?"

"Where do you see us going from here?" Anastasia demanded, stepping closer to prevent him from running away like he had the last three times she'd tried to have this conversation.

Alistair looked faintly panicked. "Okay, we REALLY don't have time for this conversation…"

"Why not?" Anastasia challenged. "Whether we make it in the long run or not, how committed are you to this relationship?"

Alistair looked faintly hurt. "How can you doubt that I love you more than life itself?"

"Well, for one, you won't tell me if we'll still be together once the Landsmeet's over," Anastasia pointed out dryly.

"It's not like I don't want to be," Alistair hastened to explain. "It's just that this situation is really complicated."

Anastasia snorted. "It's really not. If we love each other then that's all that matters."

Alistair frowned disapprovingly. "Is it? What about duty; this isn't just about us."

"What about it?" Anastasia asked, throwing back her head in exasperation. "Feelings aside, if you become King you'll need to get married at some point, right?"

"Right…" Alistair agreed slowly, trying to see where she was going with this.

"And, regardless of personal preferences, if you married Anora all our problems would be solved," Anastasia continued. "You would provide the royal bloodline and Anora could deal with the leadership role you're deathly afraid of."

"Hey, I am NOT 'deathly terrified' of it," Alistair protested. At Anastasia's skeptical look, he amended, "Well, maybe a little. Is this your way of suggesting I marry Anora?"

"You marry Anora, I start sleeping with Zevran again," Anastasia threatened.

Alistair paled. "You brought it up! I'm just trying to see where you're going with this."

"Well I'm not going there," Anastasia told him, making a face. "But would Anora be qualified to be your wife?"

"Is this a trick question?" Alistair wondered. "Because it sounds like the answer is 'yes', but I really don't want you anywhere near Zevran's tent again."

"Why would Anora be qualified to be your wife?" Anastasia asked patiently

"Because she has experience as Queen and everyone seems to want me to be King?" Alistair guessed.

"Very good, Alistair. But why did she qualify as Cailan's wife in the first place?" Anastasia pressed.

Alistair really had no idea. "She's Teryn Loghain's daughter?"

That seemed to be the answer Anastasia was looking for, however, as she smiled at him. "Exactly! Anora has a high enough social status to be Queen because she is the daughter of one of the two Teryns Fereldon has. A Teryn or Teryna, you know, is the most powerful a person can be without actually being royalty."

"I may not have been raised to be royalty, but that doesn't mean I don't understand basic nobility ranks!" Alistair objected.

Anastasia held up her hands placatingly. "I'm just making sure there are no misunderstandings. What am I?"

"My fellow Grey Warden, the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, and the love of my life," Alistair replied promptly.

Anastasia's smile widened. "Good answer. What I actually meant was that I am the daughter of the other Fereldon Teryn. Prior to her marriage, Anora and I had the exact same social status. Why are you so concerned we can't still be together should you become King?"

Alistair looked a little awkward. "Well, I'll need an heir, right?"

"I'm not exactly anti-baby here, Alistair," Anastasia replied, rolling her eyes.

"Most of the Grey Wardens I knew had children before becoming Grey Wardens and I've never heard of two Grey Wardens having children together. I don't even know if that's possible," Alistair confessed.

Anastasia smacked her forehead. "THAT'S what you're so worried about? Maker, Alistair, as far as I know I'm the first female Grey Warden ever. People seem to treat me as some sort of mythological creature and often don't completely believe that I am a Grey Warden until I do something amazing. Of course you've never heard of something like this happening."

"I just don't know…" Alistair trailed off.

"I swear to the Andraste, Alistair, I'm starting to think trying to explain the concept of monogamy and why I expect it to Zevran would be less hassle than this!" Anastasia exploded.

Alistair looked pained. "Anastasia-"

"I don't want to hear it," Anastasia cut him off.

"You could always make Anora Queen," Alistair soldiered on bravely. "That would make all this a moot point."

"Naturally," Anastasia said dryly. "Seeing as how she'll have you executed to protect her throne."

Alistair's eyes bulged out. "What? But I don't even want to be King! How am I threat?"

Anastasia laughed harshly. "Trust me, she won't care. You may not have grown up among the nobility, but I did. Hint hint. You're a threat to her simply by existing. It might have been okay when you were still just a dirty little secret but now that Arl Eamon has propped you up as a viable option for ruler in your own right, Anora can either marry you, kill you, or face rebellions that rally around you whenever she does something people don't like."

"I...I don't know," Alistair shrugged helplessly.

Anastasia sighed. "And so it falls to me to decide, as per usual." With that, she strode purposely towards the doors and threw them open.

"Stop stalling, Eamon!" Loghain was ordering, rubbing his temple. "You called this Landsmeet for a reason and I for one would like to know what it is."

Eamon blinked innocently at him. "Does that mean you don't want to see baby pictures of my son?"

"Well I for one would love to see baby pictures of Connor," Anastasia said loudly, announcing her presence. "He's such a sweet child. But then again, I'm not a heartless puppy-murdering monster."

"I do not murder puppies!" Loghain insisted, sounding appalled.

"I never said you did," Anastasia assured him. "But since you clearly identified with my statement, is there any reason
you didn't deny the heartless monster part?"

"I felt 'puppy-murdering' was a worse allegation. We do live in Fereldon, after all," Loghain responded easily.

"You're probably right," Anastasia agreed. "If anyone murdered Ichi, I would tell Morrigan he accused her of being an apostate and leave them alone for a week. Anyway, I'm here to accuse you of treason."

Loghain arched an eyebrow. "Really? That's interesting because your status as a Grey Warden means I'm going to have to accuse you of treason."

"Because of Ostagar?" Anastasia asked, annoyed. "Look, I wasn't even at the battle. Alistair and I were off lighting a beacon and killing darkspawn. How is that treason? On the other hand, while we were acting under orders of the late King Cailan, when the beacon was lit it was supposed to be your signal to charge. You didn't."

"Our position was overwhelmed!" Loghain insisted. "The Grey Wardens betrayed us and if we hadn't left Fereldon would be bereft of an army right when the darkspawn are on the verge of an attack."

"I'll grant you that I wasn't there so I wouldn't know," Anastasia conceded, "but even if things did go down the way you describe, Alistair and I were personally assigned our mission from the King. We're no traitors."

"So you say," Loghain allowed.

"And you fail at ruling Fereldon anyway," Anastasia declared boldly.

"How dare you?" Loghain hissed at her.

"What?" she defended. "It's true. Or do you think kidnapping and torturing the son of Bann Sighard and holding the brother of Bann Alfstanna prisoner and forcing him to undergo lyrium withdrawal because he was one of the templar sent to track down the blood mage you hired to poison Arl Eamon is proper ruling behavior? Because if you do then let me tell you: you're even less fit to rule than I originally thought, which is really saying something."

"To be fair, I only asked that Bann Alfstanna's brother and the other templars be waylaid so I could speak with the blood mage. Blood magic is abhorrent but the opportunity to understand what drives mages to it and thus prevent such problems in the future is a rare one indeed," Loghain claimed. "That he got it into his head to try and thank me for staying his execution by poisoning a political rival of mine is regrettable, certainly, but it all worked out in the end and it was not my doing."

"So you just handed the templars over to Howe and never bothered checking in on things?" Anastasia demanded. "Or even visiting his Denerim estate? Some friends you guys are. The man had two dungeons! Possibly more but I didn't exactly have a floor plan when I…visited."

"You mean when you murdered Arl Howe?" Loghain shot back.

"He murdered my family first," Anastasia countered. "And don't even pretend you didn't know this as you were right there when King Cailan asked where my father was and I had to tell him that he wasn't coming on account of his being betrayed and murdered by his best friend. The King promised to deal with it after Ostagar but you haven't even addressed the issue! Besides, I was only there because of Queen Anora in the first place."

"Ah, right, Anora. The Queen of Fereldon and my daughter. While we're on the subject of who wronged whose family, let's get into the fact that you've kidnapped my daughter!" Loghain retorted.

"I haven't been kidnapped, father," Anora informed her father as she stepped into the room. Her timing seemed to indicate that she was just waiting around outside for her name to come up and Anastasia was glad she had remembered to bring her up. "Or at least not by this Grey Warden. I WAS being held hostage by Arl Howe but that didn't seem to bother you, did it? I had to rely on your enemies to save me."

"No," Loghain shook his head vigorously. "I trusted Howe. He wouldn't have…this Grey Warden has turned you against me!"

"I assure you, Anastasia Cousland has done no such thing," Anora said coolly. "I love you dearly, father, but you're so set in your ways and convinced that you know best that you're hurting Fereldon. You need to step aside. Please, you've done enough."

Loghain shut his eyes. "Enough. I call for a vote."

Leliana cleared her throat and looked pointedly at Anastasia.

"Oh, right," she said. "Don't forget, everyone: the Blight is coming, it's going to be really bad, and if you ****** Alistair and I off you're all going to die."

"I meant that you should mention the slave trading in the alienage," Leliana explained.

"Wars don't pay for themselves, you know," Loghain told her. "It was either that or killing every other person we met, robbing their corpse, and then pawning all of their things."

"That's my method of choice," Anastasia announced.

"And the Antivan leather boots were only a little bloodstained," Zevran noted.

"Have you people decided who you're going to vote for yet?" Loghain demanded.

"I vote for you!" a bald bann said loyally.

Every single other vote cast was for Anastasia.

"I knew my eloquent speech and charm would win them over!" Anastasia said happily.

"Or maybe it was the part where you threatened to leave them to die if they didn't pick you," Morrigan suggested. "I know that was my favorite part."

" 'A man is made by the quality of his enemies' Maric told me that once. I wonder if it's more a compliment to you or me," Loghain said quietly. "Still, I refuse to let a bunch of fools destroy this country. Men, on my signal-"

"Oh, don't be like that," Anastasia entreated. "We can handle this in a more civilized manner, surely."

"A duel to the death, then?" Loghain suggested.

Anastasia shrugged. "Why not? Alistair, you game?"

Alistair had his sword unsheathed and was standing in front of Loghain almost before she finished speaking. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I think I love you."

" 'Don't take this the wrong way'?" Anastasia repeated incredulously. "We're dating! How could I take it the wrong way?"

"I would never say something so foolish if we were to date again," Zevran informed her.

"Me either," Leliana added.

"Not now," Anastasia snapped. "Since I'm clearly biased, would you like to officiate this, Arl Eamon?"

"I would be honored to," Eamon said graciously. "You may now commence attempting to kill each other."

Loghain was good, very good. He was probably better than Alistair, in fact. More than once, Alistair had slowed down or received a serious injury only to suddenly recover as if nothing had happened.

Since Anastasia knew that Morrigan would mourn her beloved Ichi more than she would Alistair, she eyed Wynne suspiciously. The old mage merely shrugged and remarked casually, "It's a sad, sad day when the ex-templar is more pro-mage than his opponent."

Finally, Alistair had forced Loghain to his knees.

"I yield," Loghain murmured.

"Okay, now that that's settled-" Eamon began, but Alistair wasn't finished.

"This is for Duncan, you heartless puppy-murdering bastard," Alistair said fiercely as he plunged his sword into Loghain's chest.

There was a shocked silence for a moment before Anastasia broke it with a cheery, "The good news is that Anora will never marry him now."

Eamon cleared his throat. "As I was saying, now that that's done, it seems that we have two worthy contenders for the throne. Alistair, of course, is the son of King Maric, an ex-templar and a Grey Warden who seeks only to better Fereldon as a whole and can save us all from the Blight. Did we really fight so hard to free ourselves from the Orlaisian to lose the royal bloodline after only one generation? And on the other side, we have Anora. She married Cailan, you know."

"I admire your objectivity, Eamon," Anora sniped.

"I'm just doing my job, Anora," Eamon replied modestly. "So who will it be, Lady Cousland?"

"You're leaving it up to me?" Anastasia asked, unsurprised.

"Why not?" Eamon asked rhetorically. "You won the Landsmeet after all."

"First things first: why do you feel qualified to rule?" Anastasia asked diplomatically.

"I have experience on my side and everyone knows I'm the one who was really running the country these last five years," Anora replied promptly.

"Then why did you let daddy take over as regent when Cailan died?" Eamon muttered loudly enough for everyone to hear.

"I don't really feel I'm qualified," Alistair confessed. "I'm no good at leading people. Mostly, I just kill things. I've gotten very good at killing darkspawn and I'm pretty decent at tracking mages down."

"You both have excellent points. Well, since Howe's dead and my brother – should he live – will be Teryn of Highever even though I'm totally the one who got our title back for us, I might as well be Queen," Anastasia reasoned. "Plus, you're all going to die without me. Therefore, Alistair is going to be King and I will be his Queen."

"Do I have to?" Alistair asked.

"YES," Eamon said firmly. "So, Anora, will you swear allegiance?"

"Death first," she spat.

"That can be arranged," Eamon said, trying not to sound too cheerful.

"Maker, Anora, does an inability to accept decisions that don't go in your favor run in your family or something?" Anastasia wondered.

"You promised you'd support me!" Anora accused. "You wanted to be Queen all along, didn't you?"

"I lied," Anastasia said simply. "And kind of, yeah."

"Hold on, that's hardly necessary," Alistair said quickly. "I understand why she's upset."

"We've got to do SOMETHING with her," Eamon pointed out. "Otherwise we'll have a rebellion on our hands rallying around her every time you do something people don't like."

"Can't we like, I don't know, imprison her until the Blight is over and then figure out what to do?" Alistair asked.

"You're the new King, Alistair, if that's what you want then of course we will," Eamon replied. "Guards!"

"I so would have killed you," Anora said, shooting him a withering glare. "You'll regret this when that first rebellion rallies around me."

"Probably," Alistair agreed, sighing heavily. "I think I already regret this. Listen, Anastasia…can we talk?"

"Sure," Anastasia agreed neutrally. "If you'll excuse us…"

With that, she and Alistair quickly retreated into the hallway, which was free of people but not of the bodies of Ser Cauthrien and her men.

"Do you mind telling me what that was about?" Alistair demanded. "One minute I'm Alistair the Grey Warden who also happens to be the bastard son of King Maric and the next I'm the new King AND engaged? Couldn't you at least have made those two separate sentences?"

"Surprise?" Anastasia said sheepishly.

"Are you sure?" Alistair asked seriously.

Saying she'd wanted to be Queen since she was four was probably not the right thing to say. She had a feeling she knew what would be, however. "Am I sure I want to marry you? Absolutely," Anastasia said warmly.

"This won't be easy," Alistair cautioned. "I meant what I said before: we don't know if we can have kids."

"Well it won't be for lack of trying," Anastasia vowed.

Alistair's eyes lit up. "There is that. And really, we can't go back on what you said now. It will undermine our authority during the Blight. Besides, it will just make you look really stupid and that usually ends violently…"

Modifié par Sarah1281, 24 juin 2010 - 09:02 .

[Sarah1281]

This is the seocnd one I wrote entitled 'Don't Blame Me, It's Tradition' where Alistair realizes that maybe he should seek sympathy about his sister with someone whose family situation would make Goldanna look like a dream come true.

Alistair was disappointed with the outcome of his quest to find his family, to put it mildly.

"I can't believe she couldn't even pretend to be happy to see me before asking me for money," he was still complaining a good half an hour after the meeting had ended as he and his fellow Grey Warden wandered the streets of Denerim.

"Well, it's not like she needed to," Aunn – or Lady Aeducan as she had insisted on being referred to as almost the moment Harrowmont had been crowned King and she'd cleared up her lingering exile issues – pointed out. "Five Sovereigns, I swear…"

"You could have said no," Alistair shot back. "I DID ask, if you recall."

Lady Aeducan shrugged. "Yeah, but why bother? By the time I loot the next idiots who attack us, we'll have more than made that money back. Speaking of, I've heard there are bandits attacking the back allies. We could look into that."

"I love how you're keeping the streets safe for the sake of your beloved pocketbook," Alistair said dryly.

"At least I'm keeping the streets safe," Lady Aeducan said defiantly, crossing her arms. "That's more than I can say about the Chantry. And if I wasn't so concerned about the perpetually dismal state of our finances, then we wouldn't be able to afford throwing money at people like your sister at the drop of a hat."

"'Perpetually dismal'?" Alistair repeated incredulously. "We have over five hundred Sovereigns!"

"Six hundred and seventy-eight," Lady Aeducan corrected absently. "No thanks to you, I might add."

"I hardly think all of those people who gave up treasured family heirlooms in order to thank you or try to help with the Blight would appreciate you selling them the minute you're out of sight," Alistair said reprovingly.

Lady Aeducan rolled her eyes. "The minute I'm out of sight? Please, Alistair, have some faith in me." She paused. "I would at least wait until we hit the next town. I wouldn't want them to come across their cherished heirloom in a shop somewhere and blame me. Seriously, though, you worry too much; I'm sure that by the time you ride in, as King, in order to lift her up out of poverty and obscurity, she'll have worked up quite a bit of pretend caring."

Alistair still looked uncertain. "I just…I thought families were supposed to be, I don't know, all welcoming and full of warm and fuzzy feelings – why are you laughing?"

"I'm not laughing," Lady Aeducan lied, making a valiant attempt nonetheless to cease her giggles.

"I'd be much more inclined to believe you if you weren't laughing through your denial," Alistair said flatly.

"Sorry," Lady Aeducan attempted to apologize. "And who knows? You might be right."

Alistair shot her a skeptical look but didn't deign to respond to that.

"No, it's true!" Lady Aeducan insisted. "Just because that might not be either of our experiences…or Morrigan's…or Zevran's…or Oghren's…Leliana's family was nice."

"Didn't her mother die when she was four or something?" Alistair asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Thereabouts," Lady Aeducan admitted. "But still! Isolde was very concerned about Arl Eamon and was willing to sacrifice her life to help Connor. And then there was that one guy who told us how to wake Shale. He was overly worried about his idiot daughter."

"Amalia wasn't an idiot; she was just tricked by a demon," Alistair defended the absent child who probably couldn't care less that the dwarven Princess thought she was daft.

"Whatever happened to 'only mages or potential mages can be possessed' anyway?" Lady Aeducan wondered. "Does she need to go to the Circle or something? Whatever, I don't really care. And trusting a talking cat…she had to have been at least twelve. Us interfering was basically flipping off the entire concept of survival of the fittest."

"That's rather…harsh," Alistair told her uneasily.

Lady Aeducan gave a long-suffering sigh and shook her head. "I'm dwarven royalty, Alistair. What do you expect? We're kind of like Orlaisian royalty except we don't see it as a game but rather to gain power of wealth."

Alistair's eyes were full of pity. "I am so sorry for you. That must have been so horrible?"

"Was it?" Lady Aeducan asked, feeling strangely like Morrigan and finding a newfound appreciation for just how annoying it was whenever her companions apologized to someone for how their life had turned out. "I can't really say. But one thing it taught me that you really ought to learn is that everyone's out for themselves."

"Even you?" Alistair asked uncertainly.

Lady Aeducan permitted herself a sad smile. "Especially me."

Alistair was quiet for a moment, thinking about it. At last he said, "I don't know if I want to be able to understand that kind of worldview. I mean, by the Maker, you don't even think Loghain is evil incarnate and you know what really happened at Ostagar!"

Lady Aeducan rolled her eyes again. "That's because from what I've seen, he isn't. I just don't see why you're this worked up over what he did."

"He betrayed Duncan and the King, let them die, and then blamed it all on us!" Alistair cried out.

"Well, I can certainly see why that would annoy you. I know that it definitely annoys me. But you seem more upset than such an inconvenience really warrants if your moniker for him as 'evil incarnate' is any indication," Lady Aeducan said thoughtfully.

"He left Duncan and King Cailan to die!" Alistair shouted again.

"You keep saying that," Lady Aeducan noted.

"It keeps being true," Alistair snapped. "Why doesn't this upset you?"

"You mean other than the fact that I really didn't know them or care much about the Ferelden throne?" Lady Aeducan asked rhetorically.

"Yes, aside from that," Alistair answered, completely serious.

Fighting the urge to roll her eyes again – because really, there were only so many times one could do that in polite conversation before the other party began to take offence – Lady Aeducan murmured, "Most people would think that would be enough…But I guess I'm just really impressed that he managed to get away with such an audacious maneuver."

"He did not get away with it," Alistair declared fiercely, his eyes flashing.

"Didn't he?" Lady Aeducan gave rhetorical questions another try and quickly answered it herself so Alistair wouldn't. "Most everyone who wasn't personally loyal to Loghain ended up dying and everyone either believes that we're guilty or is forced into going along with it."

"But we're still alive!" Alistair said triumphantly.

"That is a loose end, true," Lady Aeducan conceded, nodding seriously. "And Wynne also made it out. Really, though, she is a very powerful mage and while she may have convinced the Circle, the Templars don't necessarily believe anything. That Flemeth herself would turn into a dragon and rescue us from the Tower is a little beyond any reasonable contingency."

"For the last time, she did not turn into a dragon," Alistair scoffed.

"How would you know?" Lady Aeducan demanded. "You were unconscious!"

"Fine. Why would she have turned herself into a dragon?" Alistair asked, sounding very much like he was humoring her.

Lady Aeducan had her answer ready, however. "Dragons are big, powerful, and can fly. They also have the added benefit of looking a great deal like Archdemons, which would help her get in and get us out without darkspawn interference."

"You have a point, I suppose," Alistair acknowledged grudgingly. "But we're not the only so-called 'loose end'! Arl Eamon doesn't believe Loghain's treachery and he's going to call the Landsmeet."

"I would just like to point out that us locating the fabled Urn of Andraste-" Lady Aeducan began.

"Urn of Sacred Ashes," Alistair corrected.

"I don't really care what they're called," Lady Aeducan informed them. "But us finding that and pulling off a miracle cure also happens to fall outside the realm of reasonable potential problems. We can still stop him, but only because completely unforeseeable things keep working in our favor. And in the meantime, he's totally getting away with it."

"But…doesn't it bother you that he's an evil bastard?" Alistair sounded almost desperate.

Lady Aeducan fixed him with an incredulous look. "Did you not pay attention to anything that happened in Orzammar?"

Alistair cocked his head questioningly before his eyes cleared. "Oh, right. You were exiled for killing your brother, weren't you?"

Lady Aeducan twitched. "I did not kill my brother."

Alistair arched an eyebrow.

"Well, not that brother at any rate," she quickly amended.

"So what happened?" Alistair asked gently. "If you don't mind me asking."

Lady Aeducan briefly considered not telling him as it could very likely result in another apology about her life, which she had liked just fine before her exile, but realized that he would probably take it the wrong way and be upset for hours. Never let it be said that that boy didn't dwell. "I was one of the children of the extremely popular and respected King Endrin. My older brother, Trian, was the heir but I was the one who everyone liked. I really don't blame them: Trian was kind of a ****** and whenever I had someone put to death for annoying me, I had it look like an accident."

"Why did you have people put to death for annoying you at all?" Alistair inquired, not seeming to realize why it was, if not necessary, prevalent enough to confuse people if a noble didn't do it.

"It's just what people do," Lady Aeducan explained. "If I didn't, people would think it was okay to annoy me and before you know it, people would think I was weak and try to kill me." Alistair was looking mildly horrified by this point, so she reluctantly continued, "That's not to say I'm unreasonable. For instance, the day before my exile, this one nobody merchant gave me a dagger that had taken him years to make. It was actually a very nice weapon. I wish I still had it…"

"How does someone giving you something prove that you're not unreasonable?" Alistair didn't get it.

"Well, I didn't kill him, did I?" Lady Aeducan said as if it were obvious.

Poor Alistair was more confused than ever. "Why would you? He gave you an amazing handcrafted weapon for free."

"True," Lady Aeducan allowed. "But he was only a smith so that was rather presumptuous of him. He had actually tried to have it delivered to the palace but Bhelen thought it was funny to make the messenger wait around for hours for an irate Trian to throw him out. Everyone expected me to kill the guy, but it was such a nice weapon."

"You know, I don't think I've ever been so grateful to have spent most of my life not involved with the nobility," Alistair remarked.

"I don't think Ferelden nobility is quite that…callous," Lady Aeducan attempted to reassure him. Her plans involved him on the throne of Ferelden, after all, and it wouldn't do to scare him off this early. "But anyway, my little brother Bhelen was widely regarded as the untalented one who was just there. He never seemed particularly bright or accomplished nor was he especially loved. He told me that he thought Trian was plotting against me because the Assembly might choose me over him but I elected to wait until Trian made the first move before acting. Looking back, he had been hanging around with Trian quite a bit in the days before he died and Trian got a great deal colder towards me during that time. I think Bhelen convinced him I was plotting against him since, as he was the heir and I was the back-up heir, that was a much more believable claim than what he told me."

"So he took advantage of the fact that you both underestimated him to turn you against each other," Alistair realized.

Lady Aeducan nodded. "That certainly would have been his ideal outcome. It wouldn't have been too difficult since we all acted like we had to stop him from eating the paste half the time. Poor kid, I really can't blame him for trying to kill us all…but anyway. Maybe Trian would have eventually moved against me or perhaps he decided to be cautious as well. Being a kin-slayer is anathema in Orzammar, you know. When I went off to recover the Shield of Aeducan, on my way back I discovered Train's body."

"I am so sorry," Alistair said automatically. "And they blamed you just like that?"

Again, Lady Aeducan forced herself not to roll her eyes although it was sorely tempting. "Not exactly 'just like that.' I had encountered a scout and some well-respected noble proving fighter in the Deep Roads earlier and they went with me on my epic quest. Bhelen showed up almost immediately after I found Trian along with several of his cronies, my father, and Harrowmont. Bhelen let his second do his accusing for him as he hid behind a mask of grief."

"But wouldn't your companions be able to explain what really happened?" Alistair asked innocently. Rather naïve, in Lady Aeducan's opinion, but from what she'd seen human nobility seemed to expect fair play, even when they didn't get it.

"Well, they would have been able to clear things up," Lady Aeducan conceded, "but Gorim was too loyal to my family and me in particular to be believed in this matter. The scout accused me of fratricide and even though I rightly pointed out that he wasn't the right caste to condemn me, his word backed up the noble's accusations."

"So you were framed," Alistair said softly.

"Tell me about it," Lady Aeducan agreed. "But it gets better."

"Well, that's good," Alistair said brightly.

Lady Aeducan shook her head. "Not really. By 'better' I meant 'worse'."

"Then why did you say 'better'?" Alistair queried.

Lady Aeducan sighed. "It's just a figure of speech."

"Well, it's a deliberately misleading one," Alistair sniffed.

"I wouldn't say that it's deliberately misleading," Lady Aeducan disagreed. "After all, you'd probably have realized what I meant after I told you the Assembly voted to send me off to the Deep Roads to die a warrior's death without even giving me a trial."

"What?" Alistair gasped. "That's barbaric!"

"I know, right?" Lady Aeducan felt secure in rolling her eyes as it was more about the shoddy way the Assembly had handled the aftermath of her 'crime' than at Alistair's naivety. "They could have at least given me a show trial but I think Bhelen realized that even if he did bribe half of the Assembly, everyone still loved me so giving me a chance to get off was a bad idea."

"But you didn't die, even when they sent you off alone and barely armed to face darkspawn," Alistair noted.

"Well spotted," Lady Aeducan said dryly. "They send the condemned to seek a warrior's death fighting darkspawn as a way to semi-redeem them before they go. Right before Gorim was exiled to the surface – although surely not too soon before as he was still apparently in Orzammar when my father got gravely ill and regretful and that kind of thing doesn't happen overnight – he told me that Harrowmont and my father wanted me to seek out Duncan as my only hope of salvation."

"Duncan was great like that," Alistair smiled fondly. "Wait…why was Gorim exiled?"

Lady Aeducan had never actually considered the question. "I don't know," she said finally. "Because I was exiled and he was my second. Harrowmont told me that he tried to get me exiled to the surface, too, but I think Bhelen was worried that I would gather allies and return triumphantly to Orzammar to cause him problems. Which I totally did."

"So because he had the bad fortune of being the second to someone who got exiled, he got exiled too? That's absurd," Alistair declared.

"What do you mean 'bad fortune'?" Lady Aeducan demanded with narrowed eyes. "We got along great and I'm awesome. Although, I suppose you have a point about being exiled…And speaking of, what can I say? It's tradition."

"Well it's a stupid tradition," Alistair said petulantly, crossing his arms.

Lady Aeducan groaned. "Now you sound like my brother."

Alistair blinked, not sure what she meant by that. "Which one?"

"Bhelen."

"Don't compare me to that bastard!" Alistair ordered.

"He never liked traditions either. That's actually what started this whole mess in the first place," Lady Aeducan revealed.

"His hatred of royal succession tradition?" Alistair guessed.

"That too," Lady Aeducan smiled slightly. "I meant the whole mess with Harrowmont and Bhelen both vying for the throne."

"What does Bhelen's hatred of tradition have to do with anything as far as that's concerned?" Alistair questioned.

"My father discovered how anti-tradition he was and deemed him unfit to rule. Since I wasn't around, he asked Harrowmont to succeed him," Lady Aeducan answered.

"But what about his kin-slaying tendencies? Your father's note said he saw what Bhelen really was-" Alistair started to say.

Lady Aeducan's smile turned rueful. "He already knew what happened, you know. He confessed that he never believed I had done it but he thought an investigation would cause a scandal and keep House Aeducan off the throne. If Bhelen hadn't killed Trian, where was the scandal?"

"And there wasn't a scandal when they said you killed him?" Alistair didn't believe it.

"Oh, no, there was," Lady Aeducan assured him. "But it was one the Aeducans could recover from. If it came out that of my father's three children, one was ignobly slain, one had been under suspicion of fratricide and might still have been involved, and one orchestrated the whole mess, there's no way the damage could have been fixed in my father's lifetime. He was rather old, you know."

"So if your father knew and – Maker forbid – chose the throne over you, why did he change his mind?" Alistair asked slowly. "Guilty conscience?"

Lady Aeducan snorted. "As if. My father was very reverent towards traditions and Harrowmont is the same. He could put up with fratricide because Bhelen got away with it but his blatant disregard for traditions? That was too much. Did you know that Bhelen wanted to give surface dwarves their castes back and give the casteless greater rights? Not to mention his little casteless plaything was allowed to lounge around in the Palace letting herself be seen by people! That's fine once a son is born but before…honestly, it's a wonder it took my father so long to see that."

"Maybe after he was the sole heir, he decided it didn't matter," Alistair suggested.

"You may be right," Lady Aeducan said vaguely.

"And what about you?" Alistair pressed. "Where do you stand on those issues?"

"I don't know," Lady Aeducan confided. "On a purely moral standpoint, weakening the caste system is a sound idea but dwarven nobility has never been about morality. And just think of how much trouble any radical changes will cause in the Assembly. And giving power to others weakens your own power. I'm probably somewhere between Harrowmont and Bhelen. You know, I almost wish Bhelen had become king."

Alistair gaped. "What? After everything he did to you? How can you say that?"

"Because if he had become king, it would have made all of this worth something instead of just a lot of pointless bickering," Lady Aeducan explained, sighing. "I'm still not sure I made the right choice. I really hate moral dilemmas."

"How was that a moral dilemma?" Alistair cried. "He was clearly evil!"

Lady Aeducan waved a hand dismissively. "That's neither here nor there. Harrowmont was on my side and genuinely wanted to help me, but House Aeducan had been on the throne for nine generations. When I set out I was seeking only a warrior's death or – failing that – the throne of Orzammar. And now I've taken it from my family and given it to a House that has never held the crown."

"I'm really not sure I understand your desire for the throne given my own reluctance to become king of Fereldon," Alistair said carefully. "But still-"

"It's the way we were brought up," Lady Aeducan replied matter-of-factly. "If you had wanted to be king then it would have caused problems for King Cailan but I always knew that if anything happened to Trian, I would be Queen."

"At least Harrowmont had you declared his heir before you left," Alistair reminded her. "And you also made the Assembly grant you Paragon status, which might have been overkill."

Lady Aeducan shrugged. "Well we were distinctly lacking in living Paragons and the time was right. I had just killed the half of the Assembly that screwed me over and the rest of the deshyrs had always loved me."

"And feared you, the way you stood there covered in blood and holding your sword when you demanded to be a Paragon," Alistair countered.

"If you feel you have to choose between being feared and loved, try harder," Lady Aeducan said sagely, "because you really don't. And there hasn't been an unanimous vote for Paragon since my own ancestor."

"Did he have to wipe out half of the Assembly first?" Alistair wondered, only half-sarcastic.

"No, but the other deshyrs were forced to hack a would-be dissenting vote to death," Lady Aeducan responded primly.

Alistair stared at her in growing horror. "Why are you trying to get me involved in the world of politics? Do you secretly hate me?"

"If I do, it is a deeply subconscious hatred, let me assure you," Lady Aeducan promised.

"That's…not really very comforting," Alistair said frankly.

"Well that's the best I can do," Lady Aeducan said flatly. "And don't worry, once you're king you're pretty much safe. Everyone up to and including the heir to the throne is fair game but the king himself can't be touched. If he could, we'd never get anything done and would have an endless parade of successors, wiping out half of the noble Houses in a matter of years."

"And that would be a bad thing?" Alistair asked.

Lady Aeducan glared at him. "YES. Loghain killed a king, so that does put him slightly higher on my 'to kill' list since that simply isn't done."

"Good to know," Alistair commented. "So basically it's practicality that saves your king, not morality?"

Lady Aeducan hesitated. "Well, I'd like to think of it as morals brought on by necessity. Paragons are above schemes as well and becoming a Paragon really was the quickest way to circumvent my exile."

"Bhelen was willing to stand against Caridin's word," Alistair pointed out.

"I think he realized that by 'Caridin chose Harrowmont' I really meant 'Caridin doesn't care but I bugged him until he made me a crown and I chose Harrowmont'," Lady Aeducan clarified. "And even if not, if I had picked Bhelen, Harrowmont would have stood down. You can't go against a Paragon, which is why we're pretending Branka was eaten by darkspawn. Not that that would have stopped Bhelen from having Harrowmont executed, but, once again, tradition means nothing to him. And thus I really did become a kin-slayer."

"You did the right thing," Alistair said firmly. "It was either him or you and we need you."

"You think I don't know that?" Lady Aeducan asked bitterly. "I regret that it happened but given another chance I'd have done it again."

"That doesn't really make any sense," Alistair confessed.

"He was my brother," Lady Aeducan said simply.

"But he betrayed you!" Alistair cried. "And yet you told him you were proud of him right before you killed him."

"Well, I was," Lady Aeducan confirmed. "He outplayed me and if he had been a bit more discrete, he would have been our undisputed king. His only mistake was not seeing to it that I was killed personally and blaming an overzealous Trian supporter. Still, that I had become a Grey Warden was rather unlikely."

Alistair didn't quite know what to say so he repeated, "But he betrayed you!"

Lady Aeducan's eyes hardened. "I knew the score. That's the way things have always been among the nobility and if I didn't like it, then I could have gone to the surface. Of course, then I would have to leave behind everyone so a little political backstabbing seemed like a small price to pay. Just because my immediate family basically imploded doesn't mean we loved each other any less."

Alistair's jaw worked for a few seconds. "You admit Orzammar was like that, Leliana has said the same of Orlais, according to Zevran the Crows are practically a noble institution…Would it REALLY be so bad to just let Anora have the throne?" 

Modifié par Sarah1281, 25 juin 2010 - 02:46 .

[Sarah1281]

This is the third one I wrote'Where's A Disney Death When You Need One?' about what might happen if Riordan survived the fight with the Archdemon and wants to know why the other Wardens did as well.


The senior Grey Warden in Ferelden, Riordan, was more than glad to see the end of the Blight. Denerim had been attacked, true, but word had been sent in enough time for an evacuation and all in all the death toll really wasn't as high as it could have been. It certainly wasn't as high as it should have been. Not that he begrudged their dwarven savior her survival, but it was a little suspect to say the least, which was why he'd called the other three Ferelden Grey Wardens to his side a week after the defeat of the Archdemon.

"So, the 'Hero of Ferelden', huh?" Riordan began, opting not to delve right into what was sure to be an unsatisfying discussion. "Well done."

Lady Aunn Aeducan made a face at her new title. "I've been told that the name was Alistair's idea. I knew he was still mad at me for the whole turning the embodiment of evil in his eyes into a Grey Warden, but I am going to be saddled with this nickname for the rest of my life!"

"Which should only be another twenty-nine years or so, so all things considered, it could really be worse," Loghain told her unsympathetically, having also been stuck with an uninspired heroic nickname by Alistair's equally unimaginative father.

"Not if Avernus comes through for me…" Lady Aeducan muttered.

"What was that?" Riordan asked sharply. There was no way to outlast the taint. At least, no way not involving dangerous blood magic, he supposed.

"Twenty-nine years is such a long time to be saddled with such a stupid nickname," Lady Aeducan quickly lied. Riordan decided to let it go for now as he really did have more pressing matters to attend to than this 'Avernus' character. Although the name did sound somewhat familiar…

"What?" Alistair asked, somewhat defensively. "Give me a break! It's just like how Loghain is the Hero of River Dane."

"And now you're comparing me to Loghain?" Lady Aeducan was incredulous. "Seriously, not cool."

Loghain raised an eyebrow. "I thought you said you didn't think I was a complete monster." The words 'I knew you were just saying that to be diplomatic' went unsaid, but were clearly there.

"I don't!" Lady Aeducan insisted. "Alistair, however, seems to blame you for everything from Isolde being an insecure and irrational **** to the very existence of the darkspawn."

"I do not!" Alistair cried. He stopped. "Well, maybe just a little…And what would you rather have been called anyway?"

"Anything but the 'Hero of Ferelden'," came the prompt response. "I'm not picky. You called Leliana 'Princess Stabbity Stab' once."

There was a story behind that, Riordan was sure, especially as he had met this Leliana and she seemed a kind if overly devout Chantry sister. Still, that was rather beside the point, which his fellow Wardens seemed intent on avoiding.

"You…" Alistair trailed off. "You want me to call you that? Wouldn't that hurt your precious PR?"

Lady Aeducan smirked. "No among the dwarves, it wouldn't. Quite the opposite, actually, and I could really use the PR boost. Harrowmont said he'll name me his successor as well as the heir to House Aeducan, but the Assembly has to approve of me and I was recently an exiled kinslayer who killed off half of the Assembly. Although whether that hurts my chances is anyone's guess…"

"But they know you're innocent now, don't they?" Alistair asked, trying and failing to sound unconcerned.

"They did," Lady Aeducan acknowledged. "But thanks to Bhelen I am, in fact, now a kinslayer. Not that anyone but his supporters are holding it against me, given the circumstances."

"Have I ever told you how bizarre dwarven politics is?" Loghain asked rhetorically.

Lady Aeducan nodded. "You have indeed. Several times, in fact. But considering that once a dwarf becomes a Paragon and their House becomes elevated into the ranks of the nobility then they and their kin are considered to be the equals to those who have been nobility for generations – although with understandably less political power due to their lack of alliances – you would have had far less problems with prissy nobles had you been a dwarf."

But Loghain shook his head. "Even they would have had problems with what I did to Cailan, I'm sure."

"They'd better," Alistair growled. "Or I've officially lost all hope for that species."

Lady Aeducan rolled her eyes. "Your faith in my people is safe, Alistair. And yes, while you do not kill a King or get caught plotting against nobles, someone as idealistic and impractical as Cailan probably wouldn't have lived long enough to be a serious contender for the throne, no matter who his father was. Not to mention that the Assembly never would have chosen him either way. Anora, on the other hand, probably wouldn't have had any problems securing the throne."

"It would seem that they have more sense than the Landsmeet, then," Loghain noted. "Which from what I've heard of the Assembly is a rather disturbing prospect."

Riordan decided that it was time to intervene or they would never get around to discussing the Archdemon. He cleared his throat. "While dwarven politics is undoubtedly both fascinating and deadly, that's not what I called you three here to talk about."

Lady Aeducan sighed. "Shame. That's one of my favorite topics."

"Can you please hurry this up, then?" Alistair asked impatiently. "Being in the same room as Loghain without attempting to kill him is killing me and I'm still angry with Aunn."

"Lady Aeducan," Lady Aeducan corrected him, yet again. He was really having difficulty with her recently restored title.

Alistair stared at her. "Seriously? After everything we've been through?"

"You're the one who said we weren't friends anymore," Lady Aeducan pointed out, stubbornly crossing her arms. "And the novelty of having my title back has yet to wear off."

"Do you foresee this happening anytime soon?" Loghain wanted to know.

Lady Aeducan considered the question. "I wouldn't hold my breath."

Riordan cleared his throat again as that seemed to be the only surefire way he could get their attention. "As I was saying…we are the only Grey Wardens still in Ferelden."

"Except for Avernus," Lady Aeducan amended. "But he wasn't really interested in the Blight, so I suppose that for the sake of this discussion, we are."

Alistair glared at her. "Except that I'm NOT a Grey Warden anymore. I resigned to marry Anora, remember?"

"I wasn't aware that being a Grey Warden and marrying my daughter were mutually exclusive," Loghain said dryly.

"Just because you decided to quit five minutes before Loghain did the Joining doesn't mean that you get out of being in the same order," Lady Aeducan told him flatly.

"It was at least an hour," Alistair claimed.

"Alistair, you cannot stop being a Grey Warden," Riordan said seriously. "You can pretend whatever you like, but sooner or later you'll find yourself in Orzammar fighting darkspawn until you fall."

"Cheer up," Lady Aeducan said brightly. "If you're going to get killed by darkspawn, at least it will be in Orzammar. Besides, if you weren't a Grey Warden, why would you be here?"

"I refuse to believe that it is impossible to resign from the Grey Wardens," Alistair said firmly. "But since Loghain is inherently evil and Aunn – sorry, Lady Aeducan- has a very loose grasp of morality, I felt I should be here for this."

"We, or, more particularly, Lady Aeducan, slayed the Archdemon," Riordan recounted. "There were plenty of darkspawn around for the Archdemon to reform itself, but it didn't. A Grey Warden ended the Blight by slaying the Archdemon and yet we're all still alive. Would somebody care to explain this to me?"

Alistair, Loghain, and Lady Aeducan exchanged glances.

"Don't look at me," Alistair said quickly. "I wasn't there."

"And you have no idea?" Riordan was skeptical. What were they hiding?

"If I had an idea, Lady Aeducan would have a better one," Alistair declared. "I would have heard it from her, after all."

Lady Aeducan glared at him. "Traitor!" She coughed. "And since I'm apparently bereft of morals, I was probably lying."

"Then what do you think happened?" Riordan pressed.

"I'm sure I don't know," Lady Aeducan said innocently. "The last Blight was over four hundred years ago. Are we really sure that the act of killing an Archdemon requires a Grey Warden's death? Maybe Garahel just died of his wounds."

"The records state otherwise," Riordan objected.

"The records can say whatever people want them to say," Lady Aeducan said dismissively. "For instances, for a year prior to my defeating the Archdemon, I ceased to exist in Orzammar and so those who weren't overcome by disgust for me pretended that they didn't know me."

"Then why can only a Grey Warden kill the Archdemon?" Riordan asked reasonably.

"Maybe the non-Grey Wardens who tried just didn't do enough damage but came close enough to prompt a body switch," Lady Aeducan suggested. "It's been common knowledge since the First Blight that a Grey Warden has to be the one to defeat the Archdemon, even if no one knew why and Grey Wardens are better at fighting darkspawn that your average soldier."

"Or maybe it's because you're a female or a dwarf," Loghain said sardonically. "Or it could be both at once. The last Grey Warden to end the Blight was an elven male, right?"

"That's officially my new theory," Lady Aeducan announced happily.

"I highly doubt that played a part," Riordan informed them.

"Well, what do you want us to say?" Lady Aeducan demanded. "We survived because we used sex magic to make the untainted Archdemon an apostate's baby?"

"Of course not," Riordan said immediately, not even considering the possibility that that is exactly what had happened. "But if you have a way to slay the Archdemon without a sacrifice, that is the kind of thing we might need to know. Or what if it's not really dead? That's something we definitely need to know."

"You're free to look into it," Lady Aeducan offered. "But I doubt you'll find anything."

"I hope you don't find anything," Loghain added, shuddering slightly.

"The very thought is making me ill," Alistair contributed.

"You're not the only one," Loghain agreed.

Alistair drew back as if struck. "No. I am NOT agreeing with you on something. I think it was a perfectly reasonable solution that won't come back to bite us in the ass in any way, shape, or form. And Morrigan will make a wonderful single mother, I can just tell."

"You're speaking as if you did create a child," Riordan noted, alarmed.

"We were speaking in hypotheticals, of course," Lady Aeducan said hastily.

Riordan remained unconvinced. "Right."

"I just can't see Morrigan putting up with a guy long enough to raise a kid with him so she'd almost have to be a single mother." Alistair paused and tilted his head. "For that matter, I don't think she really liked kids, either."

"Surely you wouldn't be so irresponsible as to unleash an Old God in the hands of an apostate on the world," Riordan said, hoping he was right.

"Isn't the Grey Warden motto 'whatever it takes'?" Loghain asked pointedly.

"That's not exactly our motto, but yes, it is one of our founding philosophies," Riordan conceded. "Still, to do that would be highly unnecessary as the Archdemon can be killed through a simple self-sacrifice."

"And we would surely never be so irresponsible," Lady Aeducan agreed solemnly.

"Then that brings us back to my original questions," Riordan reminded them. "How did you survive?"

Lady Aeducan shrugged. "I'm sure I don't know. It's a miracle, that's for sure."

"Maybe the Maker protected you," Alistair said sarcastically.

"That was uncalled for," Lady Aeducan sniffed. "Although I'm not going to rule out the Ancestors…speaking of, if we're done here I need to figure out how to convince the isolationist king I just put on the throne to accept human aid to wipe out the darkspawn in the Deep Roads. If that doesn't secure my role as heir, I don't' know what will…"

And with that, she promptly left Loghain and Alistair to deal with Riordan's questions. Too bad for them, but at least it was no longer her problem.

[Sarah1281]

My fourth DA fanfic is 'There's Something There…Or Not' in which Wynne gets confronted on her tattling on Morrigan's blood magic after it had just saved her and the Tower and then Wynne accuses Aunn of being involved with Alistair, Leliana, and Zevran.


Two days after Wynne officially joined their ragtag team of wannabe heroes, Aunn Aeducan decided to approach her in camp to work out an issue that had been bothering her since they left the Circle Tower.

"Hey, Wynne, how are you adjusting to leaving the Tower?" Aunn began politely.

"It is very kind of you to ask," Wynne replied, smiling warmly. "I am fine, thank you."

"Are you sure?" Aunn asked innocently. "Because Morrigan's still here and you did do your utmost to get her killed just two days ago. Then again, I suppose she is camped so far away from us it's easy to forget that she's even here at all…"

"I'm sorry, Aunn," Wynne apologized. "I thought she was a blood mage. I had no idea that Morrigan was simply using Grey Warden magic."

"Don't worry about it," Aunn said graciously. "As Morrigan is not, in fact, a Grey Warden it is understandable that you might have been confused. That's not to say, however, that I understand why you felt the need to try and get Morrigan killed."

"I told you, I thought she was a blood mage," Wynne repeated.

"So?" Aunn asked bluntly.

"S-So?" Wynne sputtered. "So? Blood magic is strictly forbidden in accordance with Chantry decree."

"I'm a dwarf," Aunn pointed out. "Does it look like your Chantry's superstitions mean a damn thing to me?"

"Well, no, but here in Ferelden the Chantry is very important and cannot be defied," Wynne explained.

"That sounds completely ridiculous," Aunn announced. "And even more so when you consider that I am thoroughly convinced that Andraste herself was just a powerful mage."

"That is a theory that I am familiar with and while I definitely do feel that it is something to consider many would be offended to hear you say something like that about the Bride of the Maker."

"Yeah, that's another thing I don't quite get. If this 'Maker' created everything, including Andraste or at least her ancestors, then isn't it kind of messed up for them to be in that kind of relationship? And if this 'Maker' character wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention to the world, then how did this Andraste catch his attention in the first place?" Aunn demanded.

"That's…not quite the way the story goes," Wynne said awkwardly.

"Well, I don't really care one way or another," Aunn informed her. "It's all just made-up anyway."

"For the sake of not starting an argument, we'll just have to agree to disagree," Wynne decided.

"Fine by me," Aunn agreed. "Regardless of your obsessive and inexplicable blood mage hatred, Morrigan really came through for us and without her, I doubt we would have been able to save the Circle."

"That's probably true," Wynne admitted. "She is a very powerful mage."

"Then why in the world would you immediately turn around and try to tattle on her?" Aunn demanded. "You owed her your life and the lives of all the surviving mages Gregoire wasn't forced to kill!"

"It looked like she was using blood magic," Wynne said defensively, like Aunn was really supposed to care about that.

"But she saved you!" Aunn reminded her.

"That doesn't excuse using blood magic," Wynne sniffed.

"The Chantry's indoctrination runs deep, huh?" Aunn said sympathetically, realization sinking in.

"Pardon?" Wynne asked quizzically.

Aunn just shook her head. "Never mind. You realize that if Morrigan was being attacked by the Templars, Alistair, Oghren, Sten, and I would have had no choice but to systematically slaughter all of the Templars and any mage who opposed us, right?"

"What?" Wynne blinked, confused. "If she had been a blood mage you would have defended her?"

"Oh, why not?" Aunn asked rhetorically. "The Chantry means nothing to me, after all. Besides, her mother wanted her to come with us."

"You took her along because her mother wanted you to?" Wynne asked incredulously.

Aunn rolled her eyes. "Now you sound like Alistair. And of course I did! Her mother is pretty badass. She can turn into a dragon AND a griffin, you know. Oh, and she saved Alistair and I after Ostagar."

"That sounded almost like an afterthought," Wynne noted.

"I like griffins," Aunn said by way of explanation.

"So I'm beginning to realize," Wynne said wryly.

"Morrigan may not have been able to take out all of the Templars alone, but with the others and I helping her, those poor Templars wouldn't have stood a chance. Thankfully, Irving knows Grey Warden magic when he sees it."

" 'Thankfully'?" Wynne repeated. "Why is it 'thankfully' if you felt you could beat them, whether true or otherwise?"

"Because Gregoire seems all kind of awesome and the world needs more awesomeness in it, not less," Aunn declared.

"I…see…" Wynne said slowly, clearly not seeing in the slightest.

Aunn felt no need to try and enlighten her. Some things you either got or you didn't. "But enough about that. Alistair said you wanted to speak to me about something?"

Wynne nodded. "Ah, yes. You're quite taken with each other, aren't you?"

"Who?" Aunn asked blankly. Wynne just kept staring at her expectantly until it clicked. "Oh, you mean me and Alistair? That's just…wow, that's funny."

"Your relationship is a joke to you?" Wynne asked reprovingly.

"What relationship?" Aunn shot back. "He is my fellow Grey Warden and, what's more, he's my friend."

"Don't play coy," Wynne said sharply. "I've seen the way he looks at you."

Aunn had the grace to look a bit sheepish. "Yes, well, Alistair's a virgin and I had a lengthy conversation with him about licking lampposts. It's just like that thing with Cammen, really…"

"What?" Wynne asked startled, not sure she really wanted to know.

"You don't want to know," Aunn unknowingly confirmed Wynne's doubts. "Have you seen me staring equally or something?"

"Well, no," Wynne conceded. "But I assumed that you were just more subtle. Are you honestly trying to tell me that that boy is head over heels for you and you feel nothing in return?"

"Not true," Aunn countered. "He isn't head over heels for me and I just said that we were friends."

"I see," Wynne said skeptically. "What about you and Leliana, then?"

"We're friends, too?" If it came out as more of a question than a statement, that was only because Aunn wasn't quite sure where the mage was going with this.

"Are you sure?" Wynne pressed. "Her voice always gets much more…sultry when she speaks to you."

"Really? I hadn't noticed," Aunn replied.

"And while she may not necessarily be a virgin like Alistair, I don't want to see such a sweet and guileless girl get hurt-" Wynne started to say.

Aunn interrupted by promptly bursting out laughing.

"You think my concern is funny, do you?" Wynne asked, annoyed.

"A little, yes," Aunn conceded, still chuckling. "Leliana? Sweet and guileless? Leliana? What part of 'Orlesian Bard' makes you think 'sweet and guileless'?"

"Leliana was a former bard?" Wynne faltered for a moment before quickly rallying. "Well clearly her sweet nature could not handle the treacheries of that lifestyle and drove her to the Chantry here in Ferelden."

"Not really," Aunn disagreed. "She just got caught and tortured for awhile so when she escaped she had to flee the country."

"…Does this mean you're not interested in her?" Wynne asked finally.

Aunn sighed. "Not romantically, no."

Wynne wrinkled her nose in disgust. "I was afraid of that. That must mean you and…Zevran."

"Not quite sure we're friends yet as my death could very well mean his triumphant return to the Crows," Aunn confided. "But no, we're not in a relationship."

"Of that I am not surprised," Wynne declared. "Thought it's rather obvious you two are still intimate."

"It…is?" Aunn asked uncertainly.

"Yes, but I wish it weren't. You and he keep me up all night with all the noises," Wynne said reprovingly.

" 'Noises'?" Aunn repeated. "You mean sex?"

"I can hear it all," Wynne announced.

"But I'm NOT having sex with Zevran. Or Alistair or Leliana or whoever else you think I might be involved with!" Aunn cried out.

"You're not?" Wynne was surprised. "Then what have I been hearing?"

"Do you really want to know?" Aunn asked rhetorically.

"Not at present, no," Wynne said vehemently. "Just so we're clear: you're not involved with Alistair, Leliana, OR Zevran?"

"Not even casually," Aunn told her firmly.

"Oh. I guess one can never be too certain about these things. Do try and remember, Aunn, that a Grey Warden must put duty above everything," Wynne cautioned.

"Yeah, sure," Aunn said absently, quickly taking her leave before Wynne decided that Morrigan was bisexual or she and Oghren had 'connected' over their shared species.

When she got back to her tent, she found her three would-be love interests waiting for her.

"Aunn, I want you to know that we all care about you very deeply," Leliana began solemnly. "In fact, that is part of why we are in this mess in the first place."

"What mess?" Aunn asked, a sinking feeling in her stomach.

"I make no claim on you, my friend, but can Alistair or Leliana say the same?" Zevran asked rhetorically.

"No, no we can't," Alistair answered anyway. "You need to choose one of us."

"I need to choose one of you?" Aunn frowned. "You mean, you three can't get along so only one of you is going to continue on our journey? Well, that's surprisingly childish of you all. I suppose if you really are forcing my hand, I'll have to go with Alistair because Grey Wardens are darkspawn killing experts and we need a lot of darkspawn killed."

"That…wasn't quite what we meant," Zevran told her.

"Although if you want to still pick me, that would be great," Alistair offered.

"You cannot play around with our hearts," Leliana said severely. "You must pick one of us or lose all of us and given the way you've been playing us for fools, you're lucky we are even giving you that option."

"Have you three been talking to Wynne?" Aunn asked suspiciously.

They all nodded.

Aunn sighed again. "By the ancestors, how many times do I have to do this? At least you're all here together. I choose…nobody."

"What?" Zevran asked. "Surely you realize that we've all discussed this and will not harbor any ill will towards you or the person you choose."

"I do," Aunn confirmed. "But there is no way I am going to embark on a relationship – or even meaningless sex, Zevran – with any of you."

"But…why not?" Leliana asked desperately.

"Well, Zevran and Leliana keep telling me all about all of the people they have slept with and killed so forgive me for thinking maybe sleeping with them isn't the best idea," Aunn started.

"And what about me?" Alistair just looked so hurt that Aunn felt like she'd just drowned a puppy. Make that five puppies. And a kitten.

"You're going to be King if Arl Eamon and I get our way and while I'm not sure where Anora fits into this yet, I know a dwarven princess does not fit in at all," Aunn said gently. "I don't want to start something and just have to end it later and hurt us both and I will not be your concubine."

"You could just try not putting me on the throne," Alistair suggested.

"Sorry, Alistair, but I don't trust the girl who put Loghain in a position to brand us as traitors to rule on her own," Aunn told him. "And a romance with me would be a bad idea because the minute this whole 'Blight' thing is done with, I'm going back to Orzammar."

There was silence for a moment.

"You know, I've always liked travelling," Zevran said slowly.

"And I could be very useful in Orzammar," Leliana added. "I could help with that new Chantry I helped found and I could help people reach things on tall shelves…"

Aunn stared at her. "What in the world is wrong with you? Why would we build shelves that we would be at a human's mercy to get things from? I swear, between this and your stance on elves…you know what, I'm going over to Morrigan's side of the camp. Follow at your own peril."

"So," Alistair said once she'd stormed off. "If I weren't going to be king, do you think I'd stand a chance?"

[Sarah1281]

My fifth one was 'Don't Mess With A Dragon Slayer' about  how seeing just how badass and heavily armored his former partner-in-crime is, Leske decides that maybe selling her out isn't the best plan.


Sereda Brosca wasn't quite sure what to expect when she set foot in Dust Town for the first time in over a year. She was pretty sure that Leske standing a few feet away from her former home – and her family's former home given that her mother and sister had moved into the freaking palace while she was gone – was not it, however.

"Sereda?" Leske looked as if he had seen a ghost. "Sereda Brosca? Is that really you, duster?"

Sereda grinned at her friend. Rica had warned her that Leske might have changed while she'd been gone but he was her best friend and so she had to see for herself. "Do I really look so different that you have to ask?"

"The last time I saw you you had the brand of a casteless," Leske pointed out. "And now you somehow don't. What happened?"

"My friend Morrigan is a mage who decided I'd look better without the brand," Sereda informed him. "As for what she did…well, she got rid of it and let's just leave it at that."

"If you say so," Leske said dubiously. "And what about your clothes? The last time I saw you you were dressed in typical duster attire and wielding a poorly made dagger. Now…" he trailed off, shaking his head.

"Well, the good thing about killing a ton of people and looting their corpses is that I can afford nicer things," Sereda explained.

"Nicer things?" Leske repeated with a laugh. "Your armor is the nicest I've ever seen – even if I don't recognize the material – and your sword is glowing! As in actually glowing! Is that normal? Or safe, for that matter?"

Sereda crossed her arms defiantly. "When you kill two enormous dragons practically single-handedly, I think you're entitled to have Dragon scale armor made out of it."

Leske's jaw dropped and he started looking a bit nervous. "You fought a dragon? And won?"

"Two," Sereda corrected proudly, holding up to fingers to emphasize this. "Although one of them was actually a shape-shifter who turned into a dragon, but I suppose a dragon might have been her true form. Unlike all the other shape-shifters I've killed, she didn't turn back into a human once she died."

Leske just shook his head. "Remember the good old days when the only people we had to kill were a few dwarves?"

"I try not to," Sereda confessed. "In fact, if it weren't for Rica and this stupid treaty obliging Orzammar to aid against the Blight, I never would have looked back."

"To be honest, I can't say I blame you," Leske remarked.

"As for my sword…" Sereda unsheathed her weapon and held it out for Leske to inspect. "It's called the Strarfang and it is my one true love. Some sort of metal fell from the stars and I had it made into a the most amazing sword I've ever seen."

"Your true love's a sword, huh?" Leske muttered. "I guess that explains why you could never get a guy…"

Sereda dutifully ignored him and put the Starfang back in its sheath.

"This all sounds very expensive, Sereda," Leske noted.

Sereda shrugged. "What can I say? I kill a lot of people."

"And dragons," Leske added.

"No, only the two. I've killed a lot of drakes, though, and Wade insisted on refining his skills with drake scales before he'd even touch the dragon scales. He claims all the drake scale armors were abject failures, but they are still some of the nicest armors I've ever seen. Here, do you want one?" Sereda offered, reaching into her pack and pulling out a set of said armor.

"Do you often carry armor you don't need around with you?" Leske wondered.

"Not usually, no," Sereda replied. "But Shale seems to have decided that as drakes have wings they must be birds and thus leaving the armor unattended around her is not a good idea, to say the least."

"I…see…" Leske said slowly, clearly not seeing in the slightest.

Sereda looked amused. "I highly doubt it, but then you really don't want to."

"And you want to give it to me?" Leske asked skeptically, just to make sure he was getting this right.

"Of course I do!" Sereda insisted, her eyes wide. "Your armor kind of sucks."

"But it just looks so expensive," Leske protested.

Sereda waved off his concerns. "Given how quickly I make money these days, my perception of 'expensive' is a little skewed. Then again, given how poor Dust Town is, so is yours, I'd imagine."

"I really can't accept this-" Leske started to say.

"Nonsense," Sereda cut him off earnestly. "You are the best friend I've ever had and I haven't been able to stop worrying about you since I escaped Orzammar's so-called 'justice' and left you holding the bag. You know I'd do anything for you."

Leske, who still appeared nervous, now looked stricken as Sereda shoved the armor into his hands. "Don't say that!"

"Don't say what?" Sereda asked innocently. "That I trust you with my life? Because I do and I will, regardless of whether I say it or not so why not tell you?"

Leske groaned. "You're not going to make this easy, are you?"

"Make what easy?" Sereda inquired, narrowing her eyes.

"I'm working for Jarvia, now," Leske confessed, refusing to meet her eyes.

"What?" Sereda, despite her sister's warning, was stunned. "But…she tried to kill us! Remember after that Proving went south because you couldn't be bothered to keep your eye on that fighter I was impersonating?"

"I wanted to watch the Proving!" Leske defended himself. "When was I going to get another chance to see you fight in one?"

"Earlier today I won the proving Prince Bhelen was holding in his father's honor just because as a Grey Warden I can do that now," Sereda replied. "You should have been there; it was awesome. And if you wanted to watch me, you should have drugged him since I was fighting his opponent fairly."

"Hindsight is always twenty-twenty," Leske said sagely.

Sereda snorted. "And common sense is far rarer than the name suggests. But let's get back to Jarvia, shall we? Why are you working with her?"

"I needed to survive and you know that the carta is the best chance I had to do that as not all of us were invited to go join the illustrious Grey Wardens," Leske sounded bitter.

"You could have come to the surface, too," Sereda pointed out. "Of course, that probably would have meant you'd have been at Ostagar and likely would be dead, so…Why dos Jarvia keep you around after everything, anyway?"

"After Beraht died, she gained a lot of power very quickly," Leske told her. "And it's taken me the better part of the last year and becoming Jarvia's lover, but I'm finally going up in the world."

Sereda looked disgusted. "You're sleeping with Jarvia of all people? WHY?"

"You know, you didn't want me interested in your sister, either," Leske said thoughtfully, tapping his chin. "I'm starting to think that I was onto something when I used to say that you wanted me all for yourself."

"No, I just don't want to think about my sister that way and Jarvia used to be Beraht's lover," Sereda shot back. "That doesn't disturb you?"

"You do what you have to do," Leske said stubbornly. "Besides, in addition to the fact that I've gained a lot of power this way, Jarvia's really not all that bad looking."

Sereda closed her eyes and put her fingers in her ears. "I am so not hearing this…"

"What, like you've never slept with anyone for an ulterior motive?" Leske scoffed.

Sereda opened her eyes and brought her hands down. "You honestly think Rica would allow that?"

"Point," Leske admitted.

"So you know what I got sent down here to do, right?" Sereda asked, abruptly changing the subject. "Kill Jarvia?"

Leske sighed. "I thought as much."

"So where does that leave us?" Sereda asked bluntly.

"You realize that if you wipe out the carta it would be bad for me, right?" Leske queried.

"You could always take over as the new carta leader like Jarvia did," Sereda suggested. "Prince Bhelen only wants to wipe out the carta so Lord Harrowmont can't do it first and get the glory. Once one of them is King, they'll go back to no longer caring. Or you could always just go up to the surface if you're really sick of Dust Town."

"So you're supporting Prince Bhelen?" Leske asked. "Why?"

Sereda shrugged. "I was actually tempted to go with Lord Harrowmont and watch Orzammar tear itself apart because I see nothing in Orzammar worth saving, but Rica would kill me as Prince Bhelen is the father of her son."

"Rica always ruins everything," Leske complained.

"I know," Sereda agreed. "But she's my sister so what can you do?"

"What could I do on the surface?" Leske wondered. "I mean, I've heard there are no castes up there-"

"There aren't," Sereda confirmed. "But you really don't want to be an elf."

"From what I can tell, dwarves tend to stick to either smithing or being a merchant and I know nothing about either. I suppose I could always be a thug, but I'm already a thug so why bother leaving for just more of the same?" Leske continued.

"You could always come with me," Sereda offered hesitantly. "I'm getting increasingly ridiculously wealthy and I'm off on an epic quest to save all of Ferelden if not all of Thedas."

"I'm sure your path is far too dangerous for me," Leske told her. "I mean, really? Slaying dragons?"

"Why do people keep saying that?" Sereda grumbled. "My camp is a very safe place. We have a dwarven merchant and his son travelling with us and they're fine. Granted, Sandal is quite possibly the most dangerous person I know, but still."

"I couldn't just come along and stay in camp all day!" Leske objected.

"Why not? Leliana can't stop accidentally making racist remarks and blathering on about her Maker and Wynne won't stop lecturing me on my responsibilities so they haven't left camp since they got there," Sereda declared.

"I don't know," Leske said again, but it was clear he was weakening. "Are you sure it's a good idea?"

"Did I mention that I currently have 629 Sovereigns and after I go through the carta and make my way through the Deep Roads I'm sure to get another fifty, easy?"

"…To the surface it is, bestest friend," Leske decided.

Sereda rolled her eyes. "You opportunistic scoundrel. I am curious, though. If you knew I was down here for Jarvia's head and you didn't want that to happen as you're working rather closely with her, then why in the world would you come out to meet me? And what were you saying earlier about me not making things easy?"

Leske started coughing. "I've already slaughtered my way through the carta once with you, doing it again might be pushing my luck. How about I just wait out here until you're done? Just go to your old house, get the finger bone token off the thugs waiting in there, and then go to the door over there and you're in."

"That really didn't answer my question," Sereda pointed out.

"Good luck, bestest friend," Leske told her, practically pushing her towards her former home. "And remember, anything you might here about me that I haven't already told you is just a pack of vicious, vicious lies!"

Sereda frowned. "I feel like I'm missing something…"

[Sarah1281]

My sixth one was 'Short One Male Warden' about soon-to-be-King Alistair asking to join up with the Wardens again after Loghain doesn't survive the Joining.


Alistair was just about to knock on the door to Aunn's room at Eamon's Denerim estate when Morrigan's near-hysterical – for her anyway – words stopped him.

"And Riordan is just too old and something must be done!"

Alistair judged that this was just the tail-end of whatever she'd gotten herself so worked up about.

"I know, I know," Aunn said soothingly. "And believe me, I'm not planning to die. I'll work something out, don't worry."

"I'll hold you to that," Morrigan said, right before flinging open the door. She shot him a glare four times as icy as normal that almost made him turn around right there and go back to sulking in his room before stalking off down the hallway.

Alistair closed his eyes and took a deep breath before taking the plunge and knocking on the still-open door.

Aunn, who was polishing her precious Shield of Aeducan, looked up. From the surprised look on her face, she clearly hadn't expected him. To be fair, if he hadn't just heard the news about Loghain, he wouldn't have expected to be here either.

"Listen, Aunn, can we talk?" Alistair began hesitantly.

Aunn switched her attention back to the only emblem of her family she'd had for most of their journey. "That depends. Can you remember that I've asked you to address me as 'Lady Aeducan' now that I've gotten that tragic misunderstanding that resulted in my exile all cleared up?"

Despite having had this conversation with her many, many times since they had left Orzammar and thus knowing just how futile it would ultimately prove to be, Alistair couldn't help the sigh of frustration that escaped him nor could he help saying, "Oh, by the Maker! When are you planning on stopping that?"

"Whenever I happen to get exiled again," Aunn answered primly. "Of course, I don't really see that happening anytime soon, but you never know. But surely you didn't come here just to discuss my various idiosyncrasies, particularly as you've made it quite clear that I'm a, what was it? Oh, right: a 'morally bankrupt power-hungry disgrace to the Grey Wardens.'"

Alistair eyed the ceiling, feeling rather foolish at having his own hastily-chosen words echoed back at him. "Okay, so maybe that was a little harsh. But to be fair, you wanted to make Loghain a Grey Warden! Being a Grey Warden is supposed to be an honor, not a punishment."

It took Alistair a moment to realize that the reason Aunn was staring incredulously at him was because she had, in fact, become a Grey Warden because of a punishment.

"You do know that the only reason I'm a Grey Warden is because I thought it would be a more effective way to fulfill my sentence as a political prisoner, right?" Aunn asked rhetorically. "The situation has changed, obviously, since apparently there is such a thing as gratitude but the fact remains that I became a Grey Warden as a punishment for killing my brother."

Alistair waited for her to protest her innocence. She didn't. "But you didn't kill him, right?"

"I didn't say that," Aunn said neutrally.

That threw him, he had to admit. "So wait…" Alistair trailed off, stunned. "You did kill him after all?"

"I never said that either," Aunn told him. "Besides, roughly fifteen minutes after my little brother took the throne, he discovered that Harrowmont had actually killed Trian, framed me, and tried to convince everyone that Bhelen framed me, so he could get our father to name him his heir. And to think that he almost got away with it, too." She shook her head ruefully.

"W-what?" Alistair sputtered. That wasn't quite the way he remembered things. "That's not what happened at all!"

"It is legally. And how do you know, anyway?" Aunn challenged. "You barely met Bhelen or Harrowmont and didn't know anyone else involved."

"Harrowmont, though I admittedly did not know him well, seemed like a good and honorable man and everyone we spoke to – while they couldn't tell us much on either candidate's positions – was either accusing him of being a usurper or agreed with my analysis," Alistair countered.

Aunn snorted. "Yeah, 'good and honorable.' Maybe if you don't count the fact that he believes the casteless don't exist and should have been killed at birth as an act of mercy."

"Wait, he what?" Alistair wondered how he had missed that. "And your brother doesn't?"

Aunn shook her head. "His only heir's mother is casteless. Or was, I guess. And Harrowmont would have been a weak ruler anyway. His supporters were deserting him left and right, he couldn't even get me a trial despite the fact that he had both law AND tradition on his side, and for all his supporters kept accusing my brother of poisoning our father, Harrowmont was the only one who had the opportunity."

"But why would he poison your father?" Alistair was, if anything, even more confused. "I heard that they were friends! Hell, even you and Bhelen confirmed it."

"They were close, yes," Aunn allowed. "But despite this, pinning patricide on his opponent helped his cause. Given my father didn't want Bhelen to succeed him, he may have even approved."

Alistair was quiet as he tried to process all of this. Finally, he asked, "Why do you like Orzammar again?"

"I'm just as 'morally bankrupt', remember?" Aunn reminded him cheerfully. "You may not have known either candidate, but I knew both very well. Harrowmont would have gotten nothing done because everyone knows Bhelen wouldn't have give up gracefully and would have staged a rebellion. My brother gave up far too much to be willing to accept defeat at that point and his supporters were fanatical. Bhelen, Ancestor's help him, could very well end up saving us from ourselves…if the nobles and warriors don't outright revolt first. Still, the only way I could justify picking Harrowmont would be if I was willing to put my personal issues with Bhelen above the good of Orzammar – much as you did with Loghain – or if I were to want the throne after Harrowmont inevitably died in a few years. He always liked me and I would have been the only way he could have taken down Bhelen, so he definitely would have named me his successor."

Alistair decided to ignore the implication that he was willing to put vengeance on Loghain over the good of Ferelden. It wasn't even true, really. He was still willing to be king and had Loghain survived the Joining they would have been just as strong as they had been before, numbers-wise. Besides, wasn't staying out of the battle and not risking his life the more responsible and – dare he say it – kingly thing to do anyway? Of course, now the situation had changed and more Grey Wardens were needed. Even if he wasn't actually a Grey Warden anymore, he could still help. Of course, trying to explain that to Aunn would have gotten him nowhere, so instead he asked, "So then…why didn't you?"

"I've decided that I'd rather be a Paragon," Aunn declared. "I suppose I could be both, but I rather like traveling and the movements of monarchs are rather restricted."

"Well, at least you have realistic future plans," Alistair said dryly.

"They are, aren't they?" Aunn agreed, completely ignoring the sarcasm. "I'm also fairly certain that, due to the time-consuming nature of politics, I'll be the first noble-born Paragon. Although I really hope that people don't think forming my own House means I'll no longer be an Aeducan, because if anyone even tries to suggest that…well, it won't end well for them."

"But what about the Grey Wardens?" Alistair wanted to know.

Aunn blinked. "What about them? All this is after the Blight ends, of course. It's not like I'm being irresponsible or anything."

"The Grey Wardens will need to be rebuilt," Alistair said seriously.

"And that is so not my problem," Aunn said flatly.

"But you're one of the last Grey Wardens in Ferelden!" Alistair protested.

Aunn shrugged. "So? Frankly, that sounds really, really boring and should Riordan survive this then he can recruit for awhile until he goes to Orzammar. If not…well, Blights are hundreds of years apart so we're really in no rush. If it takes awhile for the Ferelden Grey Wardens to be rebuilt, then so be it. Or you can do it, I guess," she suggested.

Alistair looked downcast. "I can't. I am not longer a Grey Warden, remember?" he asked dramatically.

Aunn rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. Deny it all you like, I can still sense the taint in you. Besides, the reasons for your 'quitting' are not longer valid; Loghain did not survive the Joining."

"I know," Alistair said, nodding solemnly. "And that's why I'm here."

Aunn arched an eyebrow. "Oh? Do go on."

"While I am still not pleased that you would want to have such a heartless puppy-murdering bastard in the Grey Wardens, since he will not, in fact, be joining-"

"Wait, wait, wait," Aunn cut him off. "I agreed to let him join us and completely ignored your little hissy-fit about it – which couldn't even wait until the entire Bannorn wasn't there to witness what happens when their new King doesn't get his way – but since he didn't survive, it's all forgiven? You DO understand that it's not my fault he died, right?"

"Clearly he wasn't worthy of being a Grey Warden," Alistair sniffed. "But then, I could have told you that. And I did not have a hissy-fit."

"Really?" Aunn asked rhetorically. "Because that's not the impression I got. Of course, I may be biased so if you'd like a second opinion, we could always ask Anora, Riordan, Morrigan, Wynne, Loghain before he died, Eamon, any of the Banns, anyone else who happened to be in the room…"

"Alright already, I get it," Alistair grumbled. "I already told you why I was upset."

"Yeah, yeah, I was trying to taint your love affair with the Grey Wardens," Aunn said, sounding bored. "Why in the world Wynne didn't bother you about all of that Epic Legend that was the Grey Wardens is beyond me. All I cared about was the griffons and she yelled at me for that!"

"Really?" Alistair was surprised. "That's strange. I love griffons, too. Who doesn't?"

"And just like that, I am that much closer to forgiving you," Aunn told him with a slight smile.

"Forgiving me?" Alistair couldn't believe it. What did he have to be forgiven for? "I'm not the one who-"

Again, Aunn interrupted him. "Is capable of looking at the big picture and putting aside personal feelings to stop the Blight?" she supplied. "I quite agree."

"I'm sorry, okay? I shouldn't have done that and I knew you needed me," Alistair finally apologized, sounding resigned.

"Would you still be here if Loghain had survived?" Aunn demanded.

"…I'd recommend taking what you can get," Alistair advised honestly.

"Will do," Aunn agreed.

"So will you let me rejoin your cause and aid you in destroying the Archdemon?" Alistair implored.

"That depends. I didn't go through all this trouble to put a hitherto unknown illegitimate prince on the throne just for you to die a week later, you know," Aunn warned him.

"If it makes you feel any better, I'm not going to try to die," Alistair promised.

"That's what I wanted to hear," Aunn said, sounding satisfied. "So tell me, how would you feel about sleeping with Morrigan? It might save the world…"

[Arrtis]

Oh no what happens next....

HURHURHUR

[Sarah1281]

My seventh one is 'The Aeducan Throne' which is Bhelen's POV of his sister returning to help him claim the throne.


Bhelen Aeducan, Prince and soon-to-be King of Orzammar, liked to think of himself as a rather practical man. He would be hard-pressed to find anyone who thought that arranging for the murder of his brother and the exile of his sister was by any means moral, but how else could he – not even the second son but the third – be in any position to bring about the change Orzammar needed?

And it did need change, of that he had no doubt. Just a week or so before he became the heir to House Aeducan, he had found the mother of his son, Rica, in tears because her little sister had won a proving hosted in the Grey Warden Duncan's honor, then had been spirited away by the two dozen guards that had swarmed her. It had been a year since then and the fact that there had been no word meant that Sereda was probably dead. It was such a waste. Casteless or no, a fighter talented enough to beat the best would have been a valuable asset against the darkspawn.

Not that he could say his motives for seeking the throne were entirely altruistic, of course, but he had no doubt that he would be a stronger King than either of his siblings. Trian looked down on everyone who he felt had a lower station than him – which, given the way he treated his own royal siblings, was everyone but their father – and he made sure that they knew it, too. He was a staunch traditionalist who would have changed nothing, much to their father's approval. As much as Bhelen loved his father, he disagreed with many of his policies and was well-aware that people try to make changes when they first come to power and then spend their older years fighting to keep everything exactly the same.

As for Aunn…she might have made a decent Queen, but she lacked the dedication to the job. She had been reasonably excited at her first command post, but was far more interested in sneaking off for a tryst with her second or plotting to convince their father to let her join the Grey Wardens. She didn't make a habit of actively looking down on the lower castes, but as their father's favorite she had been so sheltered that she knew virtually nothing about them. Her rule would have been better than Trian's, but he knew he could do better.

It may have taken years, but hadn't the day he'd finally managed to eliminate both of his rivals in one move proven that he was, in fact, better-versed in dwarven politics than his entitled brother or glory-seeking sister? The only snag in his plan was that his father refused to believe Aunn was anything more than an innocent victim in his plans. Sure, he was willing to have her exiled – after practically throwing her at the Grey Wardens – but that was because he, like most dwarves, viewed the throne of Orzammar as the Aeducan throne. And why wouldn't they? A single House holding the throne for nine (soon to be ten, he reminded himself) generations was unheard of. Still, while his father may have understood what he did and even reluctantly went along with it, that didn't mean he was forgiven by a long shot. Bhelen could live with that, he'd given up more for the chance to be King.

The problem, then, was the fact that since he was the only remaining potential heir and had irrevocably proven himself to be far more dangerous than he looked, his father had been paying much more attention to him than ever before. In doing so he had discovered that Bhelen was far less interested in tradition than either of his siblings. It wasn't that he hated it, by any means, and as it happened the tradition that kept the Aeducans on the throne was one that was very dear to him. Rather, he saw very clearly that Orzammar was dying a slow painful death and had been since the first blight, when his own noble House had been formed.

Some traditions, cherished though they may be, had to go. The fact that the population of the nobility and the warrior castes were so low that casteless women like Rica could become 'noble hunters' with very little outcry and yet Dust Town was perpetually overcrowded and getting more so was a travesty. As Aunn had proclaimed to their father during one of their final arguments about her joining the Grey Wardens when he had said it wasn't fitting for a Princess to gallivant about playing Grey Warden, "the darkspawn aren't going to care who kills them." One would think that letting the dusters in on some of the carnage would both help with the overpopulation of casteless and keep noble sons safe, but would anyone see past the indignity of granting the casteless the right to die with honor? No one but the Legion of the Dead. No wonder they were on his side.

Then there was the issue of surface trade. Twice a year. The merchants from the surface were allowed into Orzammar twice a year and were only permitted to peddle their wares if they applied a make-shift brand so everyone would know that they were surface casteless. Yes, tradition dictated that those on the surface had turned their back on Orzammar by leaving but were all those restrictions really any way for the economy to grow? And he needed the economy to grow if he wanted to keep the merchants on his side and be able to fund his planned retaking of territory from the darkspawn. When was the last time that had happened?

Alas, his father had merely taken one look at his slight lack of enthusiasm when it came to tradition and decided he was unfit to be his heir. The sending Bhelen away from his deathbed, he could understand. Their father had never been as fond of him as he was of either Aunn or Trian and he had deprived Orzammar of both. The plotting to hand over the throne to a Harrowmont of all things, he could not. It was somewhat interesting to note that being considered guilty of fratricide wasn't enough for his father to reject him but questions about how much stock he placed in tradition was. It wasn't like his father nor Harrowmont had anything concrete, only suspicions.

With his father dead three weeks, he should be King by now. He WOULD be King right now if it hadn't been for that usurper. So what if he had been his father's loyal friend and adviser for longer than he'd been alive? He was still trying to deny him of his birthright and steal the Aeducan throne and if his father had been thinking clearly and not so overcome by grief, he never would have supported it. Tragically, Harrowmont's insistence that he had promised his father that Bhelen would not assume the throne was enough to keep the question of succession still undecided. Of course, since he highly doubted his father made Harrowmont promise that an Aeducan not take the throne, he did wonder why Harrowmont wasn't looking for another candidate among the Aeducans. Not that that would have worked, of course; since Trian and Aunn had ceased to be factors, the rest of his House had thrown their weight behind him. Even if they did have issue with him, the only other option was giving the Aeducan throne to a House that had never held it.

Harrowmont's supporters were much less loyal than his own were. A handful of them honestly believed Harrowmont's claims that his father did not want him to succeed him. As it happened, he halfway believed that, too. Was it enough to keep him from his birthright? Not even close. The majority of Harrowmont's support came from jealous nobles who saw this as the first chance in generations to put another House on the throne. They did not expect Harrowmont to be a strong ruler and he was so old they fully anticipated the usurper succumbing to illness or old age (or poison) within a few years and leaving the field wide open.

Rica kept telling him that she believed in him and to some degree she did but he could see how afraid she was. She thought that if he lost then he would end up getting himself killed and she was probably correct. Should the Assembly do the unthinkable and go with Harrowmont, he would not accept that and his supporters were all ready and willing to stand with him. The only way he would accept defeat were if he was dead and Rica could very well end up back on the streets of Dust Town with a formerly noble infant to support. It wouldn't come to that, though, as his support was stronger than Harrowmont's and his claim less tenuous. Frankly, it would probably take a Paragon to secure the usurper the throne and Bhelen knew that not even that would stop him – another tradition he ignored. The only possibly living Paragon was a questionably sane smith who had made it more than clear she had no interest in politics. Why should she have the final say? Not, of course, that he would oppose it if she showed up out of the blue to support him.

Still, all this cultured debate was starting to wear his patience thin. One would think that people who lived under constant threat from the darkspawn would take organized darkspawn who had started to lead increased and more intelligent raids more seriously, but no. They were just grateful that the darkspawn were harassing the surface and giving them time to settle the question of succession. Why they didn't seem to remember just how well leaving allies to the darkspawn had worked out for them in the past was beyond him.

There was a knock on his door then.

"Come in," Bhelen said, knowing full well that Vartag was the only one who both could and would disturb him unannounced.

Sure enough, Vartag swept into the room. "Your sister's back," he said without preamble.

"I don't have a sister," Bhelen said automatically. It was true, in a sense. Aunn had been wiped from the memories and as far as tradition went, that meant that she no longer existed. It was a bad omen either way as some of Harrowmont's supporters had started to spread around the story that he had killed Trian and if Aunn were smart she would take advantage of that to try and get herself reinstated. Although why she was back or how she was even alive were a mystery he would have to rely on Vartag to clear up.

"She's a Grey Warden," Vartag explained. "She says she wants to help you retake your throne."

Well, it seemed she'd gotten what she'd wanted after all. "And you believed her?" Bhelen asked incredulously, not sure what to make of this uncharacteristic and rather foolish optimism from his second.

"Not at first, no," Vartag replied, shaking his head. "But she asked how she could prove herself so I gave her those forged Harrowmont papers to deliver to Lady Dace and Lord Helmi. She didn't have any problems delivering the papers to Lord Helmi but Lady Dace, predictably, refused to make a decision so Aunn had to go all the way down to the Aeducan Thaig to track down Lord Dace."

"I'm sure that brought back some pleasant memories," Bhelen murmured. So the Helmis were back on his side? Good. The Helmis had always been very strong Aeducan allies, but since had Trian lived he would have married one of them and whoever she was likely would have ended up Queen, they weren't pleased with how things had turned out, to say the least. The Daces were less important and almost openly jealous of the Aeducans, but their support would still prove valuable.

"Indeed," Vartag agreed. "Her companions were a little put-off by the idea that the documents were forged, but she pointed out that Harrowmont was buying votes and that seemed to appease them. They do look like they'd rather be anywhere else than here, though."

"There are reasons we keep outsiders out of politics," Bhelen declared. "So Aunn cleared that problem up for me? Interesting."

"Whatever her reasons, she did come through for you." Vartag seemed to hesitate before soldiering on. "Of course, she also won the proving you held in your late father's honor."

"In Harrowmont's name?" Bhelen asked sharply. That would prove embarrassing and he wasn't sure what she could hope to gain by that. The proving was far too public a venue to keep what happened a secret and half the point of swaying the Helmis and the Daces to his side was so they would spread the word about Harrowmont's 'treachery' so there was no keeping that a secret either.

"No," Vartag sounded almost amused. "In the name of 'What Part of BLIGHT Don't You People Get.'"

"That certainly sounds like her," Bhelen sighed. "And it could be worse, I suppose. Even if she didn't win in it my name, at least she didn't win it in the usurper's and since she has already aided my cause people will ultimately see that as a victory for me."

"She wants to see you," Vartag informed him. "Should I arrange a meeting?"

Bhelen honestly considered the question. What did one say to one's big sister that they had set up to take the fall for kinslaying and gotten cast out to die in the Deep Roads? Then again, if he refused to meet with her she might very well turn to Harrowmont.

"That would probably be a good idea," he said finally.



Aunn came alone, which was probably for the best. If her companions, whoever they may be, were disquieted but such basics as bribery and forgery, they would not handle it well when things like 'fratricide' and 'regicide' inevitably came up.

His currently non-existent sister – another problem he had with tradition: how could one look a dwarf in the face and insist that they didn't exist? – looked much the same as she always had. Her long blonde hair was done up in two braided buns and she had on just a little too much green eye shadow. She had traded in her Aeducan armor for what appeared to be Dragon Scale armor, but given she had left Orzammar in rags that was understandable.

Bhelen stood to greet her. "Well, who would have thought? My big sister, back from the dead and calling herself a Grey Warden. I could hardly believe in when Vartag told me that you wanted to help me retake the throne."

Aunn looked him straight in the eye. "Tell me the truth: did you kill Father?"

He supposed he shouldn't be surprised that she asked him that. Still, why would he? Although silencing their father before he got a chance to jeopardize his chances of becoming King would be convenient, if both of his rivals for the throne AND the King himself were all out of the picture so close to each other…by the stone, their father had hung on for a whole year and people were still pointing fingers his way. Not to mention that he didn't want to set the precedent of killing monarchs given that he would be one soon. "Father died of grief," he said shortly. "He couldn't bear to live without you."

Aunn cocked her head. "You sound jealous." Her innocent tone was belied by her slight smirk. "Really, little brother? You send me off to die and you're jealous that Father liked me better?"

"I don't see why you're complaining," Bhelen told her, crossing his arms. "You got what you wanted, didn't you? You're a Grey Warden."

"I suppose that's true," Aunn allowed. "Although I'm sure that wasn't your intention. How do you know it was just losing me that did it? Trian actually died, you know."

"Trian's death could not reasonably be called his fault," Bhelen pointed out. "He could have easily prevented your exile and he had no way of even knowing if you were alive or dead."

"If he was really all that concerned than maybe he should have thought about that before throwing me out of Orzammar," Aunn sniffed. "I understand why he did it, though; Father was old and there's no way the scandal would have died down before his death if we were all implicated."

"Father quickly changed his mind," Bhelen said wryly.

Aunn reached into her pack and pulled out a neatly folded letter. "So I gathered," she said, holding the note out to him.

Intrigued, Bhelen took it. When he unfolded it, the unmistakable sight of his father's handwriting greeted him. "Where did you get this?"

Aunn closed her eyes. "Gorim gave it to me along with the Shield of Aeducan when I ran into him in Denerim."

Bhelen waited for her to go on but it appeared she was waiting for some prompting on his part. Resigned, he asked, "And how did that go?"

Aunn's eye flew open. "He got married!"

"Unmarried people do that," Bhelen told her flatly.

"But this was only three months after I was exiled!" Aunn burst out. "And I know he left awhile after I did because father evidently had time to fall ill and begin to waste away before he went to the surface! What, did he marry the first surface girl he saw?"

"I wouldn't be surprised if they were after him," Bhelen replied. "He was a fine warrior from Orzammar after all and from what I have heard of surface men they are…not."

"And they were expecting a child, too!" Aunn complained. "I mean, how does 'I will always love you' translate into getting hitched and on the fast-track to parenthood three months later?"

Bhelen shrugged. "I suppose that's what you get for dating beneath you."

Aunn arched an eyebrow elegantly. "If dating a warrior was so beneath me than what do you call having a child with that casteless girl?"

"Definitely not dating," Bhelen said firmly. "If people started thinking that then I might actually lose more support than you've gained for me."

Aunn rolled her eyes. "Just read the damn letter."

Bhelen glanced down.

Aunn,

Perhaps you will burn this letter unread. For that I would not blame you. But I would not return to the Stone without saying this to you: I have seen what Bhelen is. And when I saw it, I knew I had been a fool. For only a fool would cut out his own heart and burn it for the sake of appearances. I never believed in your guilt. I allowed you to be exiled because I feared an inquiry into Trian's murder would taint our house with scandal in the eyes of the deshyrs and cost our family the throne.

But I have saved nothing by this sacrifice: I sent my only child into an uncertain exile. Know that whatever you do now, you bear all the honor and pride of House Aeducan.

-Your Father

"His only child?" Bhelen asked, annoyed. "And after he just mentioned me, too."

"My friends took 'I have seen what Bhelen is' to mean that he realized that you killed Trian," Aunn said slowly. "But he came right out and said he never thought I was guilty."

"Then what do you think it means?" Bhelen challenged.

"Simple," Aunn smirked. "He found out about your allergies."

"I wish you wouldn't refer to it like that," Bhelen said irritably.

"Would you rather I outright told people that you hate tradition?" Aunn countered.

"I don't hate tradition," Bhelen tempered.

"Really?" Aunn was skeptical. "Name one tradition you don't actively hate."

"The tradition of the throne staying with the Aeducans," Bhelen answered promptly.

"I kind of like that one, too," Aunn admitted. "Did you know that ever since I stepped foot in the city, people have been trying to get me to tell them that you killed Trian?"

"And have you?" Bhelen demanded, trying not to sound overly anxious. This could prove problematic.

Aunn shook her head. "Of course not. You already have enough problems between that and the rumors that you killed Father. I don't need to add to them by confirming any of it and I'm not a very unbiased source."

"Do you believe I killed Father?" Bhelen wasn't sure why he cared. Maybe because if she did she might change her mind and side with Harrowmont. Of course, in that case she wouldn't be very open about it, now would she?

"No…" Aunn began hesitantly. "It's strange, but for all Harrowmont's supporters are crying poison and for all I think they could be right, they all agree that Father sent you away before he died. While they think that both of these are possible, I disagree. You either had the opportunity to poison him or Father wouldn't let you anywhere near him when he died. Harrowmont, however…"

"You think Harrowmont poisoned Father?" Bhelen asked. That was an idea and one he admittedly hadn't thought of.

Aunn nodded. "Apparently his official stance is that Father died of natural causes. He's being careful not to point fingers, but with the way everyone's claiming I was framed and now they think you killed our King…it's definitely causing problems."

"I can't see him coming up with something like that on his own," Bhelen remarked. "But I don't think I would put it past Father, actually…"

"And I am officially remembering why I wanted to run off and join the Grey Wardens," Aunn announced.

"Well, you can get back to that as soon as this is over with," Bhelen assured her. "How do you feel about slaughtering the carta in Dust Town?"

"You know," Aunn said thoughtfully, tapping her chin. "I don't think I've ever been to Dust Town."

"It will be…an experience," Bhelen said, almost wishing he could be there to see her reaction to how the other half lived, so to speak.



When Aunn returned, still alone, she looked as though she'd seen a ghost.

"Why don't these people rise up and kill us all?" she asked.

"Lack of equipment, the only organization they really have finds crime more profitable, and a complete lack of hope and ambition," Bhelen answered.

"I had a bag that went missing a few years back, you know," Aunn continued as if she hadn't heard him. "I think I saw part of it on the armor of one of the carta people I killed."

"They have to get the armor from somewhere and Ancestors know they don't have the money to buy any and most merchants wouldn't sell anything to them anyway," Bhelen reasoned.

"There was this guy who had been in Jarvia's prison since before she even took over!" Aunn exclaimed. "He said he and his friend Sereda had been locked there since Sereda won a proving and they killed Jarvia's predecessor."

"Is Sereda still alive?" Bhelen asked, surprised that Rica's sister's fate was about to become clear at last.

Aunn looked a little startled that he even cared. "No. The guy said that she just stopped eating one day, all for a stupid bet. I guess I really can't blame the girl, though. I mean, Beraht died even before Trian did."

"I see," Bhelen said neutrally, making a note to let Rica know. At least now she could stop wondering. "And did you have any problems with Jarvia?"

"All those traps kind of annoyed me, but not really," Aunn replied. "That armor merchant, Janar, had a secret passage to the carta in his store. He seemed to think I made the hole in his wall so I doubt he had anything to do with them but how in the world they managed to use it without him ever noticing is a little beyond me. Then again, given that he seemed to think it was plausible for me to create a giant hole in his wall while he was standing a few feet away without him noticing, I'm guessing he's not the most observant guy around."

"News has already spread of your success, you know," Bhelen informed her. "Everyone is most impressed that I managed to wipe out the entire carta with only four people and three of them weren't even dwarves."

Aunn must have been annoyed at him claiming credit for her victory because her next words were, "I've been wondering something, little brother. That whole mess with Trian…I can kind of understand why you'd kill him because he always seemed like the kind of person who would get murdered, but why pin it on me? What did I ever do to you?"

Bhelen rolled his eyes. "Oh please. You would have moved against me soon enough if I hadn't beaten you to it, just like you turned the Assembly against Trian."

Aunn snorted. "That was less any brilliant maneuvering on my part and more Trian stabbing himself in the foot with the way he couldn't even pretend not to think everyone else was beneath him. Although that does leave me wondering why Corra was so fond of him…"

Bhelen considered asking who this 'Corra' was but then realized that he really didn't care. "Be that as it may, I wasn't about to risk ending up like Trian."

Aunn stared at him. "But you're the one who had him killed."

"And once that happened you would have seen me as a threat and taken action against me," Bhelen concluded triumphantly.

"I never needed to move against Trian and I wasn't planning on moving against you either," Aunn declared. "I was far more interested in being a Grey Warden than in obtaining the throne."

"Then you should thank me," Bhelen replied simply. "Father never would have allowed you to neglect your responsibilities like that but thanks to me you got exactly what you wanted."

"Yes, thank you ever so much for getting me exiled," Aunn deadpanned.

Bhelen wondered if this was going to be a problem. He was fairly certain the new support he was garnering from Aunn's little massacre would be enough to push him over the top and win him the crown. Just the same, Aunn could decide to be difficult or change her mind at the last moment because she was annoyed he exiled her or she decided she did want to be Queen after all and thought she could convince the elderly Harrowmont to make her his heir once the Blight was over. Knowing how much the usurper had always favored her, she probably could.

"There's one more thing you could do that would secure me the crown," Bhelen said slowly. "What do you know of the Paragon Branka?"

"She used to be a Smith but she invented a smokeless fuel that greatly increased production and decreased deaths. She played at being a noble for six months but she thought we were all so vapid that the minute she heard talk of the Anvil of the Void she took her entire House save her husband with her to the Deep Roads and hasn't been seen for two years," Aunn promptly rattled off.

Bhelen blinked. "You're…well-informed."

Aunn shrugged. "I spoke with her ex-husband. After this election was settled, we were actually planning on wandering around the Deep Roads killing darkspawn and seeing if we could find her."

"I see," Bhelen said shortly. He wondered if it was being too optimistic to assume that any part of that was practice killing darkspawn for when they had to end the Blight. "As it happens, a Paragon's vote could decide this election for us. Harrowmont and I have both located the Ortan Thaig and since Harrowmont's men are already searching for her, perhaps you could move up your search?"

"Do you really think she'll support you?" Aunn asked. "You know part of the reason she left was her hatred of politics."

"You doubt you can convince her?" Bhelen asked, his disbelief obvious.

Aunn's eyes flashed. "Oh no, I can," she assured him. "But she's been down there for two years. I doubt they brought enough supplies. If she's alive, she might not be…quite all there. What should I do then?"

That was easy enough.

"Respect her wishes," Bhelen instructed. "By any means necessary. I'll try and hold the vote off until you return."



The Assembly had been in session for hours and things were getting out of hand.

"Lords of the Assembly, I call for order!" Steward Bandelor called loudly. "This discussion gets us nowhere."

"Then why all these delaying tactics?" Bhelen demanded. It had been nearly two days since Aunn had set off chasing ghosts and if he gave her much longer, she might find them. "My father has but one living child to assume the Aeducan throne." He might have stopped at 'one living child' but everyone knew Aunn was back. Fortunately, she was still technically an exile even if her status as Grey Warden meant she could just ignore that and she was far too busy with the Blight to assume the throne even were her legal status worked out.

"Your father made me promise on his deathbed that you would not succeed him," Harrowmont repeated. Honestly, that was the usurper's sole claim to the throne and all he ever said. It was really starting to get old.

"Excuse me, but the Warden has returned," Steward Bandelor announced and Bhelen turned in horror to see his sister moving to the center of the Assembly, accompanied by a human boy, a golem, and a dwarf he vaguely recognized as Branka's husband. She had no Paragon with her, but she did appear to have a crown.

"Well, speak Warden," Bhelen said, hoping he wasn't going to regret this.

"I come bearing a crown forged by the Paragon Branka," Aunn declared boldly, holding the finely crafted ornament.

As Branka's husband related their epic quest to find Branka and her heroic sacrifice to destroy the Anvil of the Void – that they really could have used to drive back the darkspawn but did anyone think about that? – Bhelen watched his sister. Her face gave nothing away and he couldn't help but wonder whether he would need the weapons he had advised the deshyrs on his side to bring after all. Granted, Aunn had said she was on his side but she had never really given a reason and just because she didn't act like she had a grudge didn't mean she was over what happened. As she had often claimed in the past, 'sneak support' was the best kind. If she had given him the vote of the Helmis and the Daces and slaughtered the carta in his name but then gave the crown to Harrowmont, then clearly Aunn supported him but was respecting Branka's wishing in crowning the other candidate.

"I would like to believe Oghren's word," Harrowmont said, sounding a little weary. "But everyone knows the Grey Warden is Bhelen's hireling." From 'if only Aunn were the eldest' to 'Bhelen's hireling' just like that. Politics was certainly a fickle friend.

Steward Bandelor, predictably, ignored this. "Then tell us, Warden, who did Paragon Branka endorse?"

Aunn was silent for a moment, clearly enjoying all of the attention. Finally, she spoke. "Branka chose Bhelen."

"Finally, this farce has ended and I can assume my rightful place on my father's throne," Bhelen said, hoping he didn't sound as relieved as he felt. Making his way down to the floor of the Assembly to get crowned, he resolved to ask Aunn for her reasons for actually handing him the throne the minute he was alone with her. He wasn't entirely sure that he would have done the same had their positions been reversed and he thought he had any chance of becoming Harrowmont's successor.

As he knelt before Steward Bandelor, he couldn't help the pleased smirk that made its way to his lips. After everything, he was finally here. That made everything worth it. Everything.

Aunn handed Steward Bandelor the crown and he placed it on the new King's head.

"May the memories find you worthy, first before the Lords of the Assembly," Steward Bandelor said quietly.

Bhelen rose to his feet triumphantly. Trian and his father were most likely rolling in their graves, but he had finally made it and his sister had, against all odds, actually helped. Only one thing could possibly make this moment better.

"Do you acknowledge me as King?" he demanded of the usurper.

Harrowmont hesitated and Bhelen wondered if Harrowmont was strong enough to lead his own rebellion after all. "I…cannot defy a Paragon," he said finally, dropping to his knees. "The throne is yours…King Bhelen."

"Then as my first act as King, I call for this man's execution," Bhelen shouted gleefully. "Guards!"

"I did what you wanted, now where are my troops?" Aunn asked, sounding annoyed and just a little sad. She clearly didn't think he should be enjoying this nearly as much as he was, but then Harrowmont had always liked her and SHE hadn't spent the better part of a month being denied the throne by him.

"I shall return to my palace and begin assembling my generals at once," Bhelen promised. His palace. It really was now. Not bad for a supposedly talentless third son.



"Truly sister, you have surprised me," Bhelen said once Aunn had once more ditched her companions and arrived back at the palace. He'd thought about it and having to watch over his shoulder whenever his sister was around – and thanks to her being a Grey Warden that could be whenever she wanted for the rest of her life – did not sound like something he wanted to deal with on top of the fact that he would shortly be alienating a good portion of the nobility and the warrior caste. Therefore, it was time to verbally acknowledge their relationship. Maybe this would be enough for her. "You have earned the right to rejoin House Aeducan."

"I…" Aunn began weakly before trailing off. Her eyes looked suspiciously shiny.

"Are you crying?" Bhelen asked incredulously. Then again, Aunn always had been overly sentimental when it came to being an Aeducan and about Orzammar itself. Maybe it would be enough.

Aunn glared at him. "No," she snapped. "When are you sending me my troops?"

"When I'm done here I'll have my generals prepare for a mission to the surface," Bhelen vowed. "I want to see this Blight defeated almost as much as you do, after all."

"Almost?" Aunn couldn't help but ask.

Bhelen shrugged. "I'm not obsessed."

Aunn made a face but didn't respond.

"Since you did more than I expected, I'm going to offer a personal reward as well," Bhelen announced, going to his desk, opening a drawer and pulling out a familiar weapon. Since his best case scenario was that Aunn would stay out of the dispute when he first heard she was back and he certainly never expected her to actually track down Branka, it would be difficult for her to not do more than he had expected.

Aunn's jaw dropped as she eyed the maul in his hand. "Is that…?"

"You may recognize this," he confirmed. "Trian used it to crack skulls when he was showing off for Father. I'm sure he'd want you to have it."

Aunn took the maul and held it up to the light to inspect it. "I'm sure he would," she agreed. "Just maybe not quite in that way."

"While I would have eventually taken Father's throne on my own, without your help I would not have taken it so soon nor so smoothly," Bhelen admitted. "So I must ask: why?"

"Why?" Aunn repeated, smiling faintly. "What a strange question. What should I say? Because you're my little brother? Because I still think of it as the Aeducan throne? Because you will make a strong leader? Because you'll live longer than Harrowmont-"

"You needn't let his name cross your lips again," Bhelen felt the need to inform her.

Aunn nodded. "Duly noted. Because Orzammar desperately needs change and I know that, for better or for worse, you'll provide that? Because 'the usurper' had law and tradition on his side and couldn't even get me a trial? Because you outplayed me?"

"Are any of those reasons true?" Bhelen wanted to know.

Aunn shrugged. "Maybe they're all true. Hey, do you think if I stop the Blight they'll make me a Paragon?"

"It probably depends on how public it is," Bhelen mused. "If you can pull off an epic battle and be viewed as a hero by the humans then I would say you're a shoe-in." And he would officially stop having to worry about her getting bored of being a Grey Warden and turning her sights on the throne.

"It'll happen," Aunn claimed. Knowing her, it probably would.

"You should probably know," Bhelen began casually. "After I discovered you were miraculously still alive I had an inquiry done into Trian's murder and after I returned here I instructed Vartag to spread the word of what really happened."

"What did really happen?" Aunn asked carefully, obviously wondering where he was going with this.

"It turns out that the usurper had Trian killed, framed you, and then tried to pin that horrible miscarriage of justice on me," Bhelen said solemnly.

Aunn gasped. "I never knew! He seemed so good and honorable."

"It just goes to show you that even the most seemingly upstanding man can fool you," Bhelen noted.

Aunn shook her head ruefully. "I can't believe Father trusted him."

"He's to be executed for his crimes sometime next week," Bhelen declared. "Will you still be around?"

"Probably not," Aunn told him regretfully. "I do have a Blight to stop, you know."

Bhelen nodded. "I understand. Come back and visit sometime," he invited.

Aunn smiled. "I'll get right on that. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to get down to the Shaperate and see if Shaper Czibor remembers me yet…"

[Sarah1281]

My eight one was 'She Came Through Again' or Shianni reflecting on her Warden cousin and everything that led her to becoming bann of the Alienage.

When the human guards came, the elves scattered. Shianni didn't blame them; humans in the Alienage were almost never a good thing – she couldn't say never were anymore as that one human had stepped in to save Ahria and when her cousin had returned to stop the slavers she had brought humans with her. Still, Shianni stood her ground.

Her rashness had caused problems in the past, true, and some of the more downtrodden who resented any efforts to make life better if it involved stirring things up had actually blamed everything that had happened to them in the past year on her. Yes, Soris and Ahria's ill-fated intended had been the ones to invade the Arl's estate and Ahria had been the one to gut Vaughan like the nobly born pig that he was, but they claimed that had she not drove Vaughn off earlier by smashing a bottle over his head then he would not have come back to crash the double-wedding.

That was probably true, Shianni had to admit, but only because then Vaughan and his conspirators would have been far too busy with the women they'd have abducted earlier. Not much of a trade-off, really. Hearing those defeatists going on and on about how this was all her and Soris' fault when Soris was only still alive because Ahria was bold enough to claim to having slaughtered her way through every guard in the estate by herself and as for her…well, she had certainly had an experience. If Vaughn hadn't died then it was possible that the Alienage wouldn't have been purged and the riots wouldn't have started, but after Ahria and Soris walked in Vaughn standing over her, laughing, what else could they have done?

That pig had actually tried bribing them. He saw Soris' bow ready to prevent the continuation of the Urien line and Ahria standing there in her blood-soaked wedding dress like an avenging angel and he realized that his little 'playthings' might actually kill him. Soris, Maker help him, didn't want the situation to get even more out of hand then it already had and would have been quite happy to just rescue her and the others and flee back to the Alienage. Ahria, however, was never one for practicality and no deal that didn't involve ripping out Vaughn's entrails and feeding them to him would have been enough for her.

Ahria hadn't loved Nelaros, had barely met him and no matter how handsome he was she had certainly resented that he was being forced on her. Still, some of that blood on her had been her fiancé's when he had bled to death in her arms after being only one of two people in the entire Alienage who hadn't been willing to sit back and passively wait for them to return in the morning, their trauma accepted as just one of the hazards of being a young woman living in the Alienage. Soris had almost had to come because it wasn't just his fiancée who had been taken but his sister and his hero cousin, as well. Nelaros would have been blind not to notice just how much Ahria resented him just for existing but he came to save her anyway. He died for someone who he barely knew and who made no attempt to hide her feelings and that meant something to Ahria. That she could respect far more than the elves back at the Alienage who clearly wished they had all just stayed put and let Vaughn do whatever he wanted.

In the end, Soris was forced to agree with their cousins more violent methods when that monster couldn't even beg for his life properly. His life was worth forty Sovereigns to him but it wasn't worth an early end to the 'festivities.' That he honestly thought Soris had stormed the estate and Ahria had charged straight towards her would-be lord instead of leaving when she had a chance just for the chance to make a little money? Okay, a lot of money. More money than Shianni had ever seen in her life. Still, her brother and her cousin were made of stronger stuff than that.

Vaughn wasn't willing to allow the rescue to continue and for that, he died. Shianni supposed that to be fair to all the finger-pointers, only Soris and Ahria knew she had been more than brutalized at their hands. Part of her wondered would the popular opinion have changed if they did know. There was no point wondering, however, as she didn't want people to know. Soris got a chance to settle down with Valora and Ahria became a Grey Warden far out of reach for the Arl's men so-called justice. If people started saying that Ahria left because she believed she was better than them and wanted to put her life at the Alienage behind her, it didn't matter. Shianni knew that her cousin had only left to save her life after making sure Soris and the rest of the Alienage was safe by stepping forward. Could anyone else have honestly said they'd have done the same? Admittedly, Ahria was thrilled by the opportunity her confession and the Grey Warden's interference had provided, but why shouldn't she be? This was her best, her only shot to show the world what she could do.

But then came Ostagar. The Grey Wardens were all dead and if Ahria was a Grey Warden that meant Ahria was dead, too. To make matters worse, practically the moment Valendrian finished her funeral service the guards came. Apparently the old Arl had died at Ostagar and there was a new one who didn't appreciate what had happened to Vaughn. He claimed it was a sign of an elven uprising and cracked down…hard.

It was months before the Alienage was opened up again and the signs of the months of being trapped and being attacked were inescapable. Unfortunately, it seemed that the only reason that people were being let into the Alienage was to quarantine people who were never seen again. Shianni tried to warn people, to get them to stop lining up for whatever horrible fate these supposed healers had in store for them, but what could she do? All of this mess was apparently her fault in the first place and she had no explanations for what the healers were doing with all missing elves. The fact that a mere handful of the actually sick elves did return to the Alienage was clearly enough for most people to just bury their heads in the sand and ignore reality. Ignoring reality never did anybody any good but attempting to confront it really hadn't done her any favors either.

And then…a miracle. Even though she knew it was futile, she couldn't just watch so many people walk right into an obvious trap and so she was standing outside of the hospice begging the people to just go home. People were ignoring her or pointing out the token elf who had made it back when she heard a voice she had never expected to hear again. Standing a few feet behind her was her fully alive cousin, an elf she didn't recognize, and two humans. Ahria had explained that she'd been in Denerim a few times since Ostagar but she couldn't get in due to the lockdown and started pumping Shianni for information regarding what had happened in her absence. When Ahria asked about her father…Shianni didn't want to be the one to tell her that, much like Valora and Valendrian, her father had entered the hospice and not been seen since.

Of course, Ahria, being Ahria, would not let her father's fate remain a mystery and turned to go right then and there. Shianni tried to warn her that it wouldn't be that easy to get past the healers but Ahria had just tossed her hair back and declared that she wasn't planning on asking before disappearing behind the building. Shianni wasn't sure what she was expecting, but a dozen elves running out of the front of the hospice shouting about how the healers weren't to be trusted and Ahria had just let them out of a cage of all things certainly wasn't it.

The crowd scattered as it always did when it looked like there was going to be a confrontation and no sooner had the last of them fled the scene did Ahria herself step out of the hospice and charged straight at the healers. With her companions backing her up, she made short work of them and went back to Shianni. Ahria showed her the note and the key and Shianni didn't understand. How could they be shipping people? And why? Ahria didn't answer, just smiled sadly and said not to worry, that she'd take care of it.

Sure enough, within two hours more missing elves had returned. Cyrion was one of them. Valora and Valendrian were not. Cyrion explained all about the Tevinter Slavers that were operating outside of the public eye but with the full support of the regent. Shianni didn't think she'd been quite so angry before. Vaughn may have been a monster but at least they were free. How many of the people she had grown up with and respected were now or soon to be at the mercy of their very own Vaughn for the rest of their lives?

It was actually a little disturbing to hear just how closely Ahria's second run-in with nobility over the Alienage paralleled her first. The slavers were more out for profit rather than personal gratification, granted, but after Ahria had slaughtered her way to the man in charge, he, like Vaughn, had offered her some incentive to just walk away. Since the stakes were higher than one night and months of nightmares and trying not to flinch when someone came too close, the slaver upped the ante. He would give her proof the regent she was trying to bring down approved the slaving and offer up 100 sovereigns…if she just let him walk away with one last shipment.

Some people, Shianni supposed, might have taken Vaughn's offer. She didn't see how anyone could look their father in the eye and then let some slaver drag him off to the Tevinter Imperium. Ahria tried to offer him his life in exchange for just walking away, but some people are just bereft of common sense and so he and his men attacked. To make matters worse, once everyone but the slaver in charge were dead, he offered Ahria one final deal: he would make her stronger by sacrificing the lives of all of the elves she had come there to rescue in a blood magic ritual. How he thought Ahria attacking because she refused to let him take the elves meant she would be in any way receptive to the idea of killing them for a bit of extra power was beyond her. It was also the last thing he ever did as Ahria promptly slit his throat at the suggestion.

It was like a dream. They'd been having problems for months and yet Ahria had returned for only a few hours and started fixing things left and right. Then again, she did have her Grey Warden immunity going for her when she killed everyone giving her problems. Shianni knew that the Blight was coming and everyone thought her cousin was dead and she could very well die soon and so was ecstatic when she convinced the busy Grey Warden to at least stay for dinner. Soris was a little jealous that Ahria got to be the hero again while he'd been stuck dealing with the riots when he heard a little of her exploits, but mostly he was just glad that the responsibility of saving an entire nation didn't fall on his shoulders. Shianni did feel a little vindicated when Ahria told them how from what she'd seen of Howe – before slaughtering her way to him and then violently killing him, of course – what happened with Vaughn was only his excuse to start what he would have done anyway. That was two nobleman in a position of power over the Alienage who had abused it and died at Ahria's hand as a result. Shianni was a bit apprehensive about what the future nobility might do if they feared ending up like Vaughn or Howe but that would come after the Blight.

In the meantime, Ahria was so busy she left practically the minute dinner was over and life went on much as before. The plague was still a problem but an endurable one, the Alienage wasn't closed down anymore, and the slave-trading had stopped. Ahria was still gone and people were still living in horrible conditions but things could have been – and indeed had been before Ahria showed up – worse.

Two weeks later the Blight came to Denerim.

It was hard to tell what was going on at first. The sky changed and there was smoke and the smell of burning and people were screaming…Once word had spread, people attempted to flee only to be stopped by the menacing sight of an army of darkspawn on the other side of the gate.

Shianni hadn't known what to do. If Ahria were there she would have taken them on single-handedly if she had to but Ahria wasn't there and Soris was nowhere to be found and she didn't know the first thing about fighting. Still, she had a bow and she had a few fellow elves that had also had enough and weren't just going to cower in their homes waiting to die. She knew that they would die but at least they could say that they went down fighting.

Shianni had honestly never been more terrified as she waited for the darkspawn to break through the gates just as she had never been more grateful to her cousin for showing up just then with an army of the Dalish, of all things. Even though Ahria could have won the day without the Alienage elves' help, she told them to stand and fight. Though their chances were a lot better now, this was still way more than any of them were equipped to handle. Still, they listened to the one who had risen from being one of them to the general of the Queen's armies. They stayed, they fought, and they won.

They had survived the darkspawn invasion without losing any of the volunteers who had stepped forward to defend their homes and Shianni had never thought it was possible. They had survived where others had died for the very reason they were able to be locked down for months so effortlessly. They had fought while others had fled and that meant something. Shianni had no idea what these soldiers wanted. In the nearly two weeks since the Blight had ended no aid had been forthcoming and it would be naïve to expect any now. Still, Shianni stood her ground.

The human guards scanned the Alienage as if on the look-out for concealed attackers behind every corner. Finding none, they stepped aside and Ahria came into view. Her long red hair was down like it usually was – no matter how practical it would be up when she was, say, slaughtering her way through places – and she was wearing what even Shianni's untrained eye could tell was some very expensive armor.

"I told you guys, this is highly unnecessary," Ahria was protesting. "I killed the Archdemon; I can handle some hungry neighbors."

"Be that as it may, my lady," one of the guards answered. "We have strict orders from the Queen not to let you out of our sight until we can determine the condition of the Alienage."

"Then maybe you should have looked into that before I decided to go looking for my cousin," Ahria suggested, somewhat reprovingly. Her eyes met Shianni's and a huge grin formed on her face. "Shianni? Oh thank the Maker, I thought I would have to scour the Alienage for you."

"No, I'm right here," Shianni replied. "We all made it through the Blight thanks to you. Soris and your father will want to see you."

"Maybe they can come to the Palace," Ahria suggested, eyeing the guards. "I'm staying there right now and I don't think anyone would appreciate it if I lead soldiers through the Alienage and caused a huge panic for a family reunion."

"Then why are you here?" Shianni wondered.

Ahria's grin widened. "I was looking for you, actually."

"For me?" Shianni frowned in confusion. "Oh, to see if I was alright? Your father should have been able to tell you that I was; he said he saw you at the King and Queen's coronation."

"Did he tell you what Anora offered me for defeating the Blight?" Ahria asked, unable to hide her excitement.

"He didn't," Shianni informed her. "He said I'd find out soon enough. He also said the King was that guy you were with when you stopped those slavers so why is the Queen giving you things instead of him?"

Ahria made a face. "He's just mad that Anora's father's not dead. He'll get over it. Probably. If nothing else, Loghain is kind of old and can't live forever…" Noticing the look on Shianni's face, she quickly continued, "But that's a long story."

"What did the Queen give you?" Shianni asked dutifully, deciding she both probably didn't want to know and would hear about it in good time anyway.

"She offered to make me the Bann of the Alienage!" Ahria exclaimed.

Shianni's eyes widened. Their very own Bann? The first non-human Bann since, well, ever as far as she knew. She guessed that meant she could officially stop worrying that their new lord or lady would take vengeance for Vaughn and Howe's deaths since she would have been the one to kill them. "So I should be calling you 'Bann Ahria' then?" she teased.

But Ahria shook her head. "No, I should be calling you 'Bann Shianni,'" she corrected.

That stopped Shianni cold. "W-what?"

Ahria shrugged. "I already have what I wanted. I'm the Hero of Ferelden, everyone loves me, and I'm fabulously wealthy. The Queen adores me for keeping her on the throne, ending the Blight in a timely manner, and keeping her father alive. The King is pissed at me but I did what I had to do so he won't act against me. Loghain is off to go rebuild the Grey Wardens so I don't have to feel guilt about not doing that. I just don't think I could devote the time and energy to the position that you could and this way we'll have two elves from the Alienage in the public eye showing people we're not worthless and fighting for our rights."

"I don't know what to say," Shianni said finally.

"Say yes, Bann Shianni," Ahria urged.

"Don't call me that!" Shianni cried, reddening.

"Why not?" Ahria challenged. "You are officially part of the nobility now, you know. Everyone will be calling you that soon enough."

"And you're sure you don't want the title?" Shianni asked, just to be certain. Her cousin was the one to make all of this possible and by all rights the Bann should be her.

Ahria snorted. "More than sure."

"But why me?" Shianni pressed.

"Why not you?" Ahria demanded, suddenly serious. "The Bann of the Alienage needs to be someone who is not afraid to butt heads with the humans and fight to get us fair treatment. Who was the one who refused to let Vaughn take us without a fight? Who was the only one to call those slavers on the fact they kept taking people? Who organized the Alienage's resistance? Face it, Shianni, when I think of someone who will fight for our people, I think of you, every time."

"Thank you, Cousin," Shianni said softly. "I still think you would do a far better job than me but I'll do my best."

Ahria shook her head, smiling again. "In some ways what I do is easy, you know? People give me a hard time, I kill them. You've never had that option and while you could definitely use some work being civil to humans it is understandable and I have faith in you. You'll serve our people well."

"You're always coming through for me, Ahria," Shianni told her. "This time, I'm going to come through for you. I'll make things better for our people if it kills me."

Ahria looked concerned. "Let's not go that far. Maker knows that if you die then we'll have to make Soris the Bann and he'd kill me so we'd have to make Loghain the Hero of Ferelden so Alistair would murder my corpse…"

[Raonar]

Sarah1281 wrote...

"Well I for one would love to see baby pictures of Connor," Anastasia said loudly, announcing her presence. "He's such a sweet child. But then again, I'm not a heartless puppy-murdering monster."

"I do not murder puppies!" Loghain insisted, sounding appalled.

"I never said you did," Anastasia assured him. "But since you clearly identified with my statement, is there any reason you didn't deny the heartless monster part?"

"I felt 'puppy-murdering' was a worse allegation. We do live in Fereldon, after all," Loghain responded easily.

"You're probably right," Anastasia agreed. "If anyone murdered Ichi, I would tell Morrigan he accused her of being an apostate and leave them alone for a week. Anyway, I'm here to accuse you of treason.

All of it was fun, but this made my day. You have a very shrewd sense of humor.

[Sarah1281]

Raonar wrote...

Sarah1281 wrote...

"Well I for one would love to see baby pictures of Connor," Anastasia said loudly, announcing her presence. "He's such a sweet child. But then again, I'm not a heartless puppy-murdering monster."

"I do not murder puppies!" Loghain insisted, sounding appalled.

"I never said you did," Anastasia assured him. "But since you clearly identified with my statement, is there any reason you didn't deny the heartless monster part?"

"I felt 'puppy-murdering' was a worse allegation. We do live in Fereldon, after all," Loghain responded easily.

"You're probably right," Anastasia agreed. "If anyone murdered Ichi, I would tell Morrigan he accused her of being an apostate and leave them alone for a week. Anyway, I'm here to accuse you of treason.

All of it was fun, but this made my day. You have a very shrewd sense of humor.

Thanks. I'm glad you liked it.

[Arassi]

these are great!

[Sarah1281]

Arassi wrote...

these are great!

Thanks!

My ninth one was 'The Couslands Diabolical Plot' where Teyrna Princess-consort Anastasia and Teyrn Fergus realize that they've somehow managed to take control of most of Ferelden.

After Anastasia Cousland managed to escape the parade that was being held in her honor, she and her long-presumed dead older brother finally got a chance to sit and talk in private.

"Who would have thought?" Fergus grinned. "My little sister: the new Queen of Ferelden."

Anastasia made a face. "Technically, I'm the 'Princess-Consort'," she pointed out.

"Maybe," Fergus acknowledged. "But if anyone calls you that, you can always have them killed."

"Fergus!" Anastasia exclaimed, scandalized.

"Well, you can," Fergus insisted, unrepentant. "Even ignoring the fact that you have a former Antivan Crow at your beck and call, your soon-to-be husband seems nice enough but he didn't really strike me as a strong leader."

"I had a chance to do something about that once," Anastasia confided. "He'd been looking for the woman who might have been his sister – he's convinced his mother was a random maid from Arl Eamon's estate but I've heard some strange things about some Orlesian elven mage Grey Warden named Fiona but for the sake of not causing a scandal I'm not going to publicize that – and when he found her, she was…not what he expected. She resented his birth as apparently her mother died in childbirth and left her destitute. Alistair made me hand over fifteen Sovereigns to her and she couldn't even act grateful! She wasn't even grateful when Alistair stopped by yesterday to move her into a much nicer apartment…"

"Yes, you'd best keep that conspiracy theory a secret," Fergus agreed. "I think 'Grey Warden' would be just about the only thing to NOT possibly invalidate his claim to the throne. But what happened with his maybe sister?"

"Alistair was feeling pretty down because he'd built up this idealized version of Goldanna because he'd never really had a family and when it all came crashing down on him…I knew that I could make him stronger but what I would have had to say…" Anastasia trailed off, shaking her head. "It would have felt too much like kicking a puppy, you know?"

"If you say so," Fergus said dubiously. "That only explains why you didn't change him when you knew him. What I'm having difficulty in believing is that he was so...unresolved to begin with."

"Well," Anastasia began slowly. "Despite the fact that he'd been a Grey Warden for six months and I'd been one for all of maybe a week – most of that time I was unconscious, by the way – he insisted on putting me in charge because he couldn't decide which of our old allies we should go call on first."

"This was right after Ostagar, right?" Fergus reasoned. "I heard he lost his father figure and Cailan was his half-brother; it's understandable he wouldn't be up to taking the lead just then."

"And I had just lost practically everyone close it me the week before that and had no idea if you were even alive," Anastasia countered, crossing her arms.

"Some people handle tragedy better than others," Fergus said, nodding sagely.

"A year later he was still having me make all the important decisions." Anastasia paused. "And all the non-important ones, for that matter."

"And some people really don't handle tragedy well," Fergus reiterated.

Anastasia rolled her eyes. "It figures you'd be sympathetic. It took you a whole year to let anyone know you were even alive, if I remember correctly. Compared to that, Alistair's the poster child for dealing with disaster."

"I'll have you know that I was gravely wounded," Fergus sniffed, faux-offended.

"So were Alistair and I," Anastasia shot back. "Which is why it took him a few days to recover and why I was out of commission for a week. Then again, we did have the Flemeth treating us and she's got to be more skilled than your average Chasind."

"See?" Fergus asked smugly. "It's perfectly reasonable."

"Still, though, a YEAR?" Anastasia said again. "And you don't even seem to have any remaining injuries. What, did you go from 'couldn't move' to 'fully healed' with no stage in between?"

"…Yes," Fergus claimed.

"Right," Anastasia said, skepticism dripping from her tone. "You know, I understand why, as a candidate for the throne, Alistair needed me to take charge at the Landsmeet, but then he put me in charge of all of the armies. I ask you: what do I know about leading armies?"

"Clearly enough since you made I through the Battle of Denerim with negligible losses," Fergus responded. To his surprise, his sister coughed awkwardly at that.

"That's actually because only a fraction of the army was available to me. I assure you, the fifty Dalish elves, fifty dwarves, fifty of the Arl's men, and twelve mages I had to work with all quickly became dragon food," Anastasia admitted sheepishly, reddening a little.

Fergus was silent for a moment. "Well, at least you won," he said finally.

Anastasia nodded. "Yes, those conveniently placed ballista certainly were a lifesaver," she agreed wryly. "Not to mention that I have some dragon-slaying experience that proved invaluable."

Fergus inspected her armor critically. "I thought that armor of yours looked like Dragon scale. Very nice."

"Thanks," Anastasia beamed. Some might say she was overly fond of her armor, but the truth of the matter was she was nowhere near as fond of that as she was of her precious Starfang. "I got it from a borderline holy dragon named Andraste while I was looking for the Urn of Sacred Ashes."

"Okay, seriously, one of these days you are going to have to just set aside a couple of hours and tell me what in Andraste's name you did in the year between Ostagar and stopping the Blight," Fergus said flatly.

"I'm not sure your poor heart could take it," Anastasia said innocently.

Fergus rolled his eyes. "Your concern is touching but I'll be fine. So anyway, we're agreed that Alistair, for whatever reason, really isn't much of a leader."

Anastasia nodded. "The reason itself isn't much of a mystery, really. Eamon made certain that Alistair knew that – despite his heritage – he was still a commoner and wasn't to start a rebellion. Making him disinclined to actually want anything to do with politics or the throne just made a rebellion that much less likely."

"A commoner, huh?" Fergus laughed. "I see that worked out well."

Anastasia shrugged. "What can I say? Eamon really seems to hate Anora."

"Do you?" Fergus wondered. "You did depose her, after all."

"Me?" Anastasia asked, surprised. "No, she's fine. She kind of hates me, though."

"Who could possibly hate you?" Fergus demanded, his big brother side asserting itself.

Anastasia snorted. "Anora, for one. Not that I blame her. I promised her I wouldn't kill her father and would support her bid for the throne and then turned around and did just the opposite. I killed Loghain myself despite Riordan proposing a viable alternative and made myself Alistair's Queen. She really would have been better off if she'd kept trying to reason with her father."

"Whatever happened to Anora anyway?" Fergus wondered. "I didn't hear anything about her being executed."

"She wasn't," Anastasia confirmed. "Alistair didn't even want to lock her up, but Eamon was calling for her blood and I convinced Alistair he had to do something. His biggest problems is that he was always treated like a dirty little secret and once Isolde of the unbelievably annoying voice and common sense comparable to Jowan had decided she couldn't put up with someone who could potentially be Eamon's son – even though she hadn't even been in the picture when he was born – Alistair was sent off to the Chantry where he was apparently also ostracized. Because of that, he never wants to hurt or upset anyone. Ever."

"Except Loghain," Fergus amended, somewhat unnecessarily.

"Except Loghain," Anastasia allowed. "But I think that's more survivor's guilt than anything. Really, I shouldn't have killed Loghain just to appease Alistair, but if I hadn't then I never would have managed to become his Queen."

Fergus pretended to shiver. "Cold, little sister. Very cold."

Anastasia shrugged. "What can I say? The new King of Orzammar and I had a most enlightening discussion about politics and if there is, in fact, such a thing as going too far."

"Didn't you say he arranged the death of his two older siblings?" Fergus asked, alarmed.

"I'm quite sure I said nothing of the sort," Anastasia sniffed. "He was suspected but there was no proof and if he did it would have only been because it was politically expedient."

Fergus groaned. "Am I going to have to start looking over my shoulder anytime you're around? Or maybe just in general, given your friendship with that assassin?"

"That depends on if you think I honestly have the time to be the Teryna of Gwaren, de facto Teryna of Ferelden, AND Teryn of Highever," Anastasia told him seriously. "Not to mention whether you think Avernus will come through for me and find a way for Alistair and I to have a child together."

"Okay, you're starting to scare me," Fergus said warily.

A slow smile spread across Anastasia's lips. "Well, you deserve it for even thinking of asking me that! Honestly."

"That does, strangely enough, bring me back to my original point, you know," Fergus noted. "I am the Teryn of Highever, you are the Teryna of Gwaren, you might as well be the Teryna of Ferelden, and – aside from Eamon – you are pretty much assured to rule Ferelden single-handedly. That's quite a bit of power, don't you think?"

"I suppose so," Anastasia agreed. "I didn't really mean for it to work out that way, it's just that Alistair asked me in front of everyone what boon I wanted and refusing would be in bad taste. Alistair is a Grey Warden as well and almost as idealistic as Wynne is about the Order so I knew he wouldn't let the Warden's sacrifice be forgotten again. I also knew he was planning on taking Howe's lands and I didn't want to seem petty, so any action against the Howes was out. Becoming Chancellor, while it would certainly get Eamon out of the way, seemed a bit redundant given my status as Queen. Therefore, since I knew the teyrnir of Gwaren was suddenly without a holder or heirs, why not take that? It's not like I wasn't raised with the possibility of having to run one one day."

"You won't have much time to see to it personally," Fergus pointed out.

"So I'll delegate," Anastasia said dismissively. "That's what Loghain did during his last year as Teryn."

"It's kind of strange, don't you think?" Fergus mused. "We were easily the most powerful family in Ferelden save the royal family and we had Highever. Then Howe nearly wiped us out and now we've married into royalty and gained both the throne and the other teyrnir."

"What can I say?" Anastasia asked rhetorically. "We're awesome."

"That we are," Fergus agreed. "But still, this isn't the type of thing that one expects to happen when one's family line is almost completely wiped out."

"What, having control of basically all of Ferelden?" Anastasia grinned.

"Precisely," Fergus nodded, frowning. "And it's not like it was really overly planned out, either. I inherit Highever because Father is dead, you're a little busy with your own territories, and you violently murdered that traitor, Howe. You're the Queen because you fell in love with the man Eamon intended to put forth as King and realized Anora would probably try to have him killed if she kept her throne. You're the Teryna of Gwaren because you couldn't think of a less extravagant but not completely worthless reward. We've come into all of this more or less by accident, wouldn't you agree?"

"Maybe," Anastasia conceded. "But don't tell people that. Seriously, we've got a reputation here. And now, we've finally avenged ourselves against Calenhad for forcing us to accept him as our monarch by practically stealing the throne from his sole descendent!" With that, she began an evil laugh.

"That was centuries ago!" Fergus objected.

"I'm failing to see your point," Anastasia informed him.

"You know, you may be the Hero of Ferelden, Teryna of Gwaren, and the Queen, but you're still such a child," Fergus smirked.

Naturally, Anastasia had little choice but to stick her tongue out at him.

[Sarah1281]

My tenth one was 'A Tragedy, To Be Sure' in which Bhelen explains his version of what happened to his siblings to a completely trusting Rica.


When Bhelen returned to his quarters that evening after a long day of building up his support among the merchants and being stonewalled by Harrowmont, a nervous and heavily pregnant Rica was waiting for him.

"H-hello, my Lord Bhelen," she stammered, looking somewhat more ill at ease than usual.

"I told you, Rica, you don't need to call me that when we're in private," Bhelen said patiently. "I'm not Trian after all."

Rica wasn't quite sure what he meant by that but elected not to bring up Bhelen's tragically murdered older brother. "Yes, my L-Bhelen," Rica corrected herself, still not quite meeting the other dwarf's eyes.

Bhelen narrowed his eyes. "Did something happen?" he asked suspiciously.

"Not exactly," Rica replied uncertainly.

"Did someone say something to you?" Bhelen demanded. "You needn't let that bother you; pettiness is sadly a defining trait of the nobility and I've long since learned not to listen."

"It's not me they were talking about," Rica admitted softly.

Comprehension dawned in Bhelen's eyes. "They said something about me, then? That's hardly surprising. The Aeducans have been on the throne for so long that the other Houses have practically given up any hope of that changing." Rica's expression didn't change, so he continued, "Was it really that bad?"

Rica hesitated. "They said…"

"Yes?" Bhelen prompted, wishing she would just spit it out so he could deal with it.

"They said that you were actually the one to murder Prince Trian and that you framed Princess Aunn," Rica burst out.

"Did they?" Bhelen asked wryly. He hadn't heard anyone actually daring to voice that suspicion aloud, although he was willing to bet Harrowmont was dropping hints every time the matter came up. This could potentially be a problem. "Do you know who said this?"

Rica shook her head, looking embarrassed. "No. I still have a lot of difficulty keeping track of all the various nobles I've encountered."

"You'll get there," Bhelen encouraged. "To think, my father's on his deathbed and people would start such a vile rumor…"

"Then…it's not true?" Rica sounded almost painfully hopeful.

"Do you doubt me?" Bhelen asked sharply. That was unexpected.

"Of course not!" Rica exclaimed. "It's just good to hear. They sounded so certain about what they were saying…"

"You've lost your sister recently, haven't you?" Bhelen asked suddenly.

Rica looked down again, unconsciously digging her nails into her palm. "Yes. I don't even know if Sereda is still alive."

"Then you can understand my feelings. Aunn might still be alive – though I doubt it – but she can never return to Orzammar so I'll never know. Trian is dead and let me assure that that seeing the body of your sibling is a very …" Bhelen trailed off, searching for the right word. "Difficult experience."

"You were actually there when Prince Trian was discovered?" Rica couldn't have looked more horrified at the thought.

"Oh, yes," Bhelen confirmed grimly. "For all that I love both of my siblings and was very upset at what became of them, this whole thing could very well be called my fault."

Rica gasped. "What do you mean?"

"Trian and Aunn never got along," Bhelen began, knowing just how much of an understatement that was. "Trian was Father's heir but Aunn had always been able to make people love her. The Assembly was considering choosing her for the next ruler of Orzammar and that infuriated Trian, not the least because Aunn seemed hardly aware of any of this and spent much of her time trying to talk our father into letting her go play Grey Warden. As time went on, their relationship only got worse and I grew worried."

"Family conflict is always distressing," Rica agreed knowingly, clearly thinking back to problems her own family had had. If Bhelen had to guess, he'd say her drunk of a mother was involved in most of the inner conflicts the Brosca family had.

"Of course, as you have undoubtably realized by now, dwarven politics isn't a very nice business but there are limits to how far you can go," Bhelen continued. "Or, at least, there are supposed to be."

"Did someone go too far?" Rica inquired.

Bhelen nodded. "Yes. Or rather, they hadn't yet but I thought that they would. Aunn mostly just ignored Trian aside from insisting that he treat her second more respectfully and letting him know he had no say in her actions. Her fascination with the Grey Wardens meant that she was, at the time, perfectly happy letting Trian be the heir. Eventually, she may have grown bored with the Wardens, but even if she hadn't the thought that she could still end up becoming Queen without even really wanting the position was too much for Trian. I honestly thought he was going to kill her."

"But…Prince Trian was the one who died, not Princess Aunn," Rica objected.

"I knew that if Trian's plot was discovered then he would face repercussions, but it would be his own actions he would be held accountable for," Bhelen continued as if he didn't hear her. "What I didn't count on was Aunn's reaction to the possibility of being threatened. I don't know if Trian was really plotting against Aunn but in warning my sister I sealed my brother's fate."

Rica had been wondering why the future King of Orzammar would be confiding in her, of all people, on such a personal matter but now she could see that he just needed someone who would listen without judging and to believe him without question. She was happy to be able to do that much for the one who had done so much for her. "You can't blame yourself," she said firmly.

"Can't I?" Bhelen replied rhetorically. "I have no reason to believe Aunn would have moved against Trian if it hadn't been for me."

"If just a rumor was enough to spur her on she was likely to have been considering it anyway," Rica reasoned. "And even if you hadn't, then Prince Trian might have killed Princess Aunn. You were only trying to help."

"He might have moved against her or he might not have. I know she did," Bhelen countered.

"I am so sorry," Rica said sincerely. What she was hearing made her own past family problems between her desperately defiant sister and her belittling alcoholic mother seem like nothing in comparison. "I can't even imagine."

Bhelen smiled sadly at her. "I never would have thought either of them were capable of fratricide, you know, and in hindsight that was my mistake. It was more believable of Trian due to his open hostility and rather violent tendencies, but it was still all quite shocking. To find out that Aunn was just as ruthless if not more so…I thought I knew them. By the Ancestors, was the throne really that important?" he burst out.

"How do you know that that's what happened?" Rica asked, trying to find some way to make this make sense for him. "Maybe Prince Trian did attack first and his death was self-defense."

"It would be easier if the sibling who died was the guilty one," Bhelen acknowledged. "But that was simply not the case. There were witnesses, you see. My sister's second claimed that they had just arrived on the scene moments before to find Trian already dead, but although he was a very honorable man it was well-known that he would have done anything for Aunn so we couldn't take him at his word. There was a scout there who claimed Aunn ambushed Trian and killed him – a charge for which Aunn killed him for – and-"

"She killed a witness?" Rica was so stunned she was hardly aware that she was interrupting. "That's definitely not innocent behavior."

"She killed the scout because he besmirched her honor," Bhelen corrected. "It had nothing to do with whether she was innocent or guilty and no one was alarmed at all. He was of a lower caste, after all, and so legally his word was not enough. There was also a minor noble there and when he corroborated the deceased scout's story…that was enough."

"So there's no question of her guilt, then?" Rica asked.

"None whatsoever," Bhelen confirmed, "as much as it pains me to say it."

"Then why do people keep saying such horrible things?" Rica demanded, inadvertently revealing that this wasn't the first time she had heard that particular rumor.

"I don't know, Rica," Bhelen answered tiredly. "I was always overshadowed by my siblings – not that I minded because they were both very important to me – and now that I'm the only one left, people think they can get me out of the way by convincing my father I was involved in what happened to Trian and Aunn so the throne will be up for grabs."

"But if he's so sick, surely people cannot get an audience with King Endrin," Rica objected.

" 'People', no," Bhelen agreed. "It may already be too late, though. I was already sent away. To think these ugly rumors are keeping me from my dying father…" He paused before deciding to go all in. "I cried for weeks."

Rica's eyes softened. "Bhelen…"

"The only person who does have unrestrained access to my father is Lord Harrowmont and while that would certainly explain a great deal…" Bhelen mused aloud, before vehemently shaking his head. "But no, he's my father's closest friend. He wouldn't."

"Wouldn't what?" Rica asked, intrigued.

"Harrowmont always respected my brother as his future King but he, like everyone, loved my sister," Bhelen confided. He snorted. "She could have been found standing over Trian covered in blood and stabbing him while screaming 'the throne will be mine' and Harrowmont would still insist she was innocent. So might Father, actually."

"That sounds a little extreme," Rica confessed.

"Perhaps," Bhelen allowed. "There's nothing wrong with being overly fond of someone, but I fear what it may have lead to. My father's wasting away from grief because Aunn's gone and no one else has anything to gain from getting my siblings out of the way since, to my knowledge, no one's seriously come after me. If Aunn were innocent, I would have the most to gain from framing her and killing Trian. I can understand why he'd think that and I don't blame him."

"But you didn't," Rica said and it wasn't a question.

"I didn't," Bhelen confirmed. "But if Harrowmont wanted to hold onto his false hope and kept the conspiracy theories to himself, we wouldn't have a problem. Poisoning my father's mind against me, however, is not acceptable. I can't really bring myself to believe he's using my family's tragedy to try and steal our throne but…if he does…I'll be ready. I never sought the throne, but the duty to lead Orzammar has, against all odds, fallen to me and I will do my duty. I owe my father and my siblings that much for my role in what happened."

[Costin_Razvan]

Ah yes....Bhelen the slithery snake that he is. "laughs'

[Raonar]

I notice you hate Harrowmont with a passion.

[Costin_Razvan]

Who me? "Evil Laugh."

I just don't buy Harrowmont's bull**** regarding Endrin. I find it very hard to believe Harrowmont did not influence Endrin a great deal to name him successor. That is why I hate him ( and that he is completely useless as a leader ).

Modifié par Costin_Razvan, 28 juin 2010 - 05:43 .

[Sarah1281]

We do not even know that he did since, as Bhelen points out, it was not official and no witnesses.

[Raonar]

The letter Endrin sends the DN is genuine, though, given directly to Gorim. There's no mistake he renounced Bhelen as his son.

Keep in mind that I don't approve of how Endrin acted at all either. And really, I think you're all misunderstanding what happened with Harrowmont. Even in the codex entry, Harrowmont is described as a skilled disciplinarian. The only reason why he failed in his rule so horribly is because, of all people, it was Bhelen he was pitted against. That really is all there is to it.

Bhelen is just too formidable.

EDIT

Oh, and it was Sarah I asked if she hated Harrowmont with a passion , since Aunn clearly doesn't like him.

Modifié par Raonar, 28 juin 2010 - 07:03 .

[Sarah1281]

What? No, she (and I) like him just fine. I went through a pro-Harrowmont phase then a pro- Bhelen one and now I am back with Harrowmont (for my DN as the others always go with Bhelen). there is strong circumstantial evidence that Endrin asked him to be his heir but no proof. Harrowmont is a lousy King because he is not interested in being strong and sees the King as a figurehead.

[Raonar]

I see...

Very well, I understand.

Oh, and Costin_Razvan

Harrowmont says he didn't want to be king at all, but that he stepped up because Endrin and those of his own house asked him. Granted, it is him that says that, but still...

Modifié par Raonar, 28 juin 2010 - 07:05 .

[Costin_Razvan]

She is a lass of 19 years old...it is to be expected that she changes her mind like that. "Chuckles."

 Harrowmont says he didn't want to be king at all, but that he stepped up because Endrin and those of his own house asked him. Granted, it is him that says that, but still...

I refuse to believe that, but I suppose one could.

Modifié par Costin_Razvan, 28 juin 2010 - 07:15 .

[Sarah1281]

I believe that he wasn't looking to be King if only because he's a bit old to fight such a difficult battle and because he doesn't seem to think a King should have that much power. He just wanted to stop Bhelen from taking the throne which, admittedly, isn't the best possible motivation.

[Sarah1281]

My eleventh one was 'Breaking up with a Guy You're Not Even Dating' where my non-romanced DN had to 'break up' with a clueless Alistair since she was making him King. Never let it be said that she does things half-way...


At Arl Eamon's Denerim Estate, Aunn Aeducan and Queen Anora were in the middle of betrothing the sole known heir of the Theirin bloodline to the latter without his knowledge or consent. Some might call that insensitive, but both women were too much politicians to really care. He'd be told before the Landsmeet so he wouldn't freak out and refuse to do it in front of everyone but it really was for the best.

"So what about it?" Anora was asking, trying to sound casual but clearly not thrilled at the prospect of once again marrying a unfaithful man. "If I am to have yet another husband with wandering eyes, I would prefer to be aware of it."

"Do you honestly think I have so little self-respect as to be willing to be a dirty little secret or even openly his mistress?" Aunn demanded sharply.

"I don't know," Anora replied honestly. "I hardly know you. Some people would say it wasn't perfect but if they could remain with their love it would be worth it. Would you?"

"I have a little more self-respect than that, thank you very much," Aunn declared. "And I've never let my hormones get in my way. So no, to answer your question, I will not be in the picture."

"And I suppose that Alistair knows this?" Anora was skeptical.

"Not yet," Aunn admitted. "I'm not sure if you've spent enough time with him to realize this or not but telling Alistair 'no' is a lot like kicking a puppy. You feel guilty enough as it is and everyone around you will hate you for it."

"I guess he really is like Cailan," Anora murmured. Turning her attention back to the dwarf in front of her, she continued in a more professional tone. "Well, if you're going to break it off with him, you've got to let him know at some point. Unless you plan on just never being alone with him ever again?"

Although the Ferelden Queen was clearly being sardonic, Aunn cocked her head thoughtfully. "That might work…"

"It's not very practical," Anora pointed out.

Aunn sighed. "I know. I just don't see why I should have to 'end things' with him. I wasn't even aware that we were involved and you'd think that, as one of the parties in this supposed relationship, I would know if we were together or not."

"Surely you've seen the way he looks at you," Anora replied incredulously.

"I have and people keep telling me all about it," Aunn said grimly. "In fact, I had to listen to a lecture from Wynne about not letting my hormones get in the way of my responsibilities – as if – and then another lecture about not toying with poor Alistair's feelings when I insisted we were not in a relationship."

"From what Cailan told me, Alistair has been very…isolated for most of his life. I doubt he'd really get the concept of a meaningless physical relationship," Anora reasoned.

Aunn nodded. "I agree, which is why we've never so much as kissed."

"Really?" Anora raised an eyebrow, surprised. He was that enamored without even a token gesture of affection? "Then why does he seem to think you are together?"

"I have no idea," Aunn confessed tiredly. "I knew he was inexperienced and all, but all I did was comment on how attractive he was once and then when I heard he was training to be a Templar – and after he explained to me what those even were – I asked if that meant he was a virgin and ended up having a very bizarre conversation about licking lampposts. He said he'd never licked one which I took to mean 'no' although it really could have just meant he's never…" She coughed. "But anyway, the next thing I knew, he gave me a rose and everyone acts like we're soul mates or something."

"Misunderstanding or not, he really needs to be told," Anora said firmly. "Although if it's really that easy to get him devoted to you, that's good to know…"

Aunn sighed heavily. "I know. I just really don't feel I should be responsible for completely and utterly crushing him when this is so not my fault, but…" Aunn froze, her eyes lighting up. "Oh, but I do have an idea."

"As long as you get it done and soon," Anora told her, deciding that she probably did not want to know.



All in all, Aunn thought the Landsmeet had gone pretty well so far. Everyone but that one bald guy with the really annoying voice had sided with her and Anora had come through like she'd promised. She probably should have been surprised when Loghain would not accept the ruling, but she wasn't. That kind of thing happened occasionally in the Assembly, after all, and was why they had so many guards. What did surprise her was that he had so readily acquiesced to her call for a one-on-one duel. Alistair had wanted to fight him, she could tell, but as much as he needed to prove himself to the Landsmeet so did she. Besides, Alistair was sure to kill him and then she'd have to come up with a new plan.

"I yield," Loghain called out, sounding slightly stunned. "I thought you were like Cailan: a child playing at war. I was wrong. You have a strength in you I have not seen since Maric died."

"Really?" Aunn blinked. That meant a lot, given just how highly she knew he thought of Maric and he was a worthy foe. "You know, if I weren't going to let you live before, I totally would now."

"Wait, what?" Alistair did a double-take. "You're not seriously considering letting him live, are you?"

"I have my heart set on it," Aunn assured him.

"But he killed Duncan!" Alistair reminded her. Again. "And Cailan! And he labeled us traitors and tried to have us killed several times!"

"Is there any way we can make him a Grey Warden?" Aunn wondered aloud, ignoring him. "You found the information for the Joining Ritual, didn't you, Riordan?"

Loghain paled at the prospect of becoming a Grey Warden. "That's really not necessary. The boy wants my blood; let him have it."

"Don't be silly," Aunn said breezily. "That's quite unnecessary. Not to mention I can't see Anora agreeing to marry him if he did kill you. Riordan?"

"I know nothing about the Queen's willingness to marry Alistair but I was just about to suggest the Joining myself. I believe that Loghain would make an excellent candidate for our order," Riordan declared.

"What? No, he'd make a horrible warden!" Alistair disagreed. "He hates us, only stopped trying to kill us five minutes ago, and wiped out all of the other Ferelden Grey Wardens at Ostagar!"

"Which is why we need more Grey Wardens," Aunn explained slowly as if she were talking to a child.

"I will not have HIM as a brother," Alistair declared, crossing his arms in defiance.

"Stop acting like a child, Alistair," Anora ordered, hoping his petulance wasn't about to get her father killed.

"I'm not acting like a child," Alistair insisted. "He's evil!"

Anora rolled her eyes. "Because viewing everything in the world as either good or evil isn't childish at all."

"I didn't want to have to do this but…" Alistair took a deep breath. "If that's what it takes to see that justice is done then make me King."

"You're already going to be King," Aunn pointed out. "You're going to marry Anora, remember?"

"I thought you were joking about that!" Alistair exclaimed.

"Well, I wasn't," Aunn informed him a little late. "Now, you don't have to go through with it, but if you don't then the best case scenario is swearing an oath that forfeits your right and your heirs' rights to the throne and then getting exiled from Ferelden."

"What? Why?" Alistair just looked so clueless, Aunn almost regretted revealing the cold harsh facts to him. Not that that would stop her, of course. He needed to know what he was getting himself into.

"You'll most likely be executed," Aunn said flatly.

Alistair turned to look at his potential fiancée accusingly.

"Ferelden is unstable enough as it is," Anora defended her position. "We don't need a rebellion springing up in your name, whether you have anything to do with it or not."

"You're not seriously going to do this?" Alistair asked quietly, pleadingly.

"It really is for the best," Aunn answered shortly. She had put Orzammar above her personal feelings on the matter and put her brother on the Aeducan throne so how could she possibly indulge Alistair his tantrum at the cost of a valuable asset of Ferelden's?

"Fine," Alistair said curtly. "Then I'm leaving the Grey Wardens to marry Anora."

"Great!" Aunn exclaimed. "It wouldn't due for our new King to get himself killed before his coronation after all…"

The look she shot Anora when he wasn't looking clearly said 'Mission Accomplished'.



Anora elected to walk Aunn down to see her father so they could discuss Aunn's way of fulfilling her promise to make sure Alistair knew Aunn wasn't going to be sticking around in a romantic capacity.

"Well, I suppose that is certainly one way to break up with someone," Anora began. "Inducting their personal embodiment of evil into their beloved surrogate family."

"And the best part is that he's so pissed that by the time he speaks to me again, he'll be completely over me," Aunn said cheerfully.

"Your ability to look on the bright side is really quite remarkable," Anora noted.

"My friends angst enough as it is," Aunn explained. "If I joined in then they'll never stop."

"This may be none of my business," Anora said hesitantly, "but why did you never pursue a relationship with Alistair?"

"You mean aside from the fact that he wouldn't be able to handle a casual relationship, he was the sole heir to the throne, we're not even the same species, the minute the Archdemon is dead I intend to go back to Orzammar, and I'm still getting over my last boyfriend who up and got married with a kid on the way within three months of our relationship technically ending?" Aunn asked rhetorically.

"No, those reasons are quite sufficient," Anora said wryly as they stopped in front of the door to the room her father was currently occupying. "Thank you again for saving my father."

"Don't worry about it," Aunn smiled. "Ignoring the fact that I had completely self-serving reasons to do so, I lost my father recently and I wouldn't want to murder someone else's in cold blood right in front of them when a reasonable alternative did exist."

"Well, thank you anyway," Anora said before turning to go. "I won't forget it."

With that, Aunn opened the door and stepped inside.

"Why did you save me?" Loghain asked immediately, turning to face her. "I can't imagine it was any mercy on your part."

"Well, you did cost me Alistair," Aunn started to explain.

"You can thank me later," Loghain said dryly.

Aunn shook her head. "No, seriously, that was it. He thought we were in a relationship and I couldn't convince him otherwise. This way, he's more-or-less 'dumping'. Although I swear, one of these days I will have a relationship that ends officially…But anyway, he'll probably forgive me eventually and if not, it doesn't really matter because I'll be in Orzammar."

Loghain stared at her for a long time. "…I'm just going to pretend you want to feed me to the Archdemon," he said finally.

"You can let it eat you if you really want to," Aunn offered. "By then if Anora follows my advice then Alistair will be so over me it's not even funny."

"Or maybe I was supposed to die in the Joining…" Loghain continued as if he couldn't hear her.