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[Sarah1281]

Okay, so I already have a thread here for my various DA stories but this one is pretty long (and unfinished) so I didn't think I should put it there and decided to just get a new thread.

Fanart: 


and

by Payroo.

by Nonvita.

and

by Aimo.

by LupusYondergirl.

Modifié par Sarah1281, 20 janvier 2011 - 11:44 .

[Sarah1281]

Chapter One: Life Is Good


Princess Aunn Aeducan's dark blue eyes narrowed as she inspected her reflection critically. Her long blonde hair was done up in its customary braided double-bun and she was adorned in her Grandmother Atia Aeducan's armor. It wasn't the nicest armor she had ever seen but it was better than most and one had to make allowances for advances in smithing when dealing with traditional weapons or armor. At least it looked impressive. House Aeducan could always be counted on for that, at least.

Gorim Saelac appeared in the doorway just then, eyeing her approvingly. "Greetings, my lady. You are dressed and ready. Excellent. I couldn't find the armor's matching dagger, but I scrounged up a rather fancy long-sword. Do you wish to wear your shield to the noble's feast?" Gorim was her Second and what that entailed varied greatly from noble to noble. Everyone used their Second to deal with minor details they simply could not attend to themselves and many used them to deal with things they could not be seen involved in or just as a general barrier against the outside world. Aunn was reasonably sure that 'best friend and semi-boyfriend' was not exactly what her father had had in mind when he had brought them together but that was life. It would never last, of course, but so long as it did she may as well enjoy it.

Aunn nodded sharply. "Of course. You never know when you might end up in a fight to the death, after all, and it wouldn't do to be unprepared. Besides, I'll need to dress the part if I want people to see me as a warrior."

"As opposed to the Paragon of Beauty?" Gorim asked innocently.

Aunn rolled her eyes. "You know, you're probably the only person besides my father that could get away with calling me that. Everyone else would get a nice reminder that I'm looking to be seen as a warrior."

"Then it's a good thing I'm the one who said it, isn't it?" Gorim returned.

"It is," Aunn agreed. "Honestly, I may not encounter much in the way of resistance to the idea of me being a fighter – except from Trian but he disapproves of everything these days – but that's because they all know I could have them killed with little effort. Just the same, I'm not blind to the attitudes of many in the upper castes as to women fighting. If I want to change that, I'm going to need to be the best."

"Somehow I'd imagine that you would strive for perfection either way," Gorim mused.

Aunn laughed. "Probably," she admitted, "but this way I can look like I'm doing something noble. And those comments about how 'interesting' it is that a lady is being made commander are really starting to get on my nerves."

"Would you like me to do something about them, my Lady?" Gorim asked dutifully.

Aunn thought about it for a minute before shaking her head. "Tempting but I really can't just go around killing everyone who has issues with female fighters. I mean, I probably could and it would be one way of bringing about change but we have population problems enough as it is and think about what that would do to my reputation…"

"True enough," Gorim concurred. "Now, at some point we're going to need to make an appearance at your feast but I spoke with Lord Harrowmont before coming here and he said that we have a few hours before we need to be there. Permission for merchants to set up their wares in the Diamond Quarter were auctioned off so we could stop by there if you're interested and then there's always the Proving that's being held in your honor. Rumor has it that Harrowmont hopes you'll be swept off your feet if a well-placed young nobleman wins the Provings in your honor."

He sounded a little resentful and Aunn couldn't blame him. It wasn't like she was thrilled by Harrowmont's less-than-subtle matchmaking attempts but at least he seemed to have finally gotten the picture that noble boys did not interest her and was trying to entice her with a nobleman that was also a skilled fighter. Trian had already safely paired up with Jaylia Helmi and Bhelen would get is turn soon enough.

Aunn smiled flirtatiously at him. "Should we tell him I already have all the man I need?"

"Why not?" Gorim responded rhetorically and not a little bitterly. "I'll just wear a sign that says, 'Assassinate me before Lady Aeducan marries beneath her'."

Aunn clapped her hands together in faux-excitement. "Oh, I'll help! Can we put glitter on it? I love glitter!"

"Why did I agree to this?" Gorim wondered aloud.

"Seriously, maybe I should go win the Proving myself," Aunn suggested. "It should be fun and how can I possibly be impressed by any of the nobles if I don't give them a chance to beat me?" Should they manage that, she would be very impressed, of course, but she didn't really see that happening. The last time she had lost a fight was seven years ago when she was sixteen and that was to Trian.

Gorim raised an eyebrow. "Win the Proving in your own honor?" he asked, sounding amused. "That would be most interesting. Shall we, then?"

He really had come a long way in the years since they'd first met. She'd been fighting with Trian at the time because she had never been overly fond of antecedents and was going through a phase where she refused to use them and all the pronouns she'd used instead meant that people had rarely known what she was talking about unless they had brought it up themselves. The incident in question had come about when she was talking about the new servant who had no idea what he was doing and Trian thought she was talking about their father…that had certainly taken awhile to sort out.

Gorim had come in and been introduced and she could still remember that the first thing she had said to him when they were alone was that sooner or later he would end up calling her by her name – and it had only taken three months and nine days and only when they were alone – and that she wanted to know his opinion on minor scandal. He had looked a little started at the first point and confused at the second but he had dutifully replied that scandals were something to be avoided whenever possible.

She had just smirked and replied, "Is that so? Too bad; I intend to become one."

Aunn nodded and moved towards the door. Today was her day and what fun would it be not to scandalize her fellow nobles a little? Ancestors knew some of the more conservative families were already opposed to her being a warrior and receiving her first commission but why stop there? The day had barely begun, after all.

As she and Gorim made their way down the hall towards the more public section of the palace, Bhelen's door opened and a redhead peeked out. "My Lord Bhelen?" Her eyes widened when she saw that it wasn't who she was looking for. "Oh! Oh, I'm sorry…" With that, she fled back into the room, shutting the door behind her.

Aunn stopped as her curiosity once again got the best of her. "I know that this is really none of my business," she said slowly. "But since when has that ever stopped me? And it's not like he shouldn't expect this, anyway. That's why Trian started locking his door…" With that, she pulled open the door to her brother's room and stepped inside.

When the redhead – a pretty casteless girl around Aunn's own age now that she was close enough to see her properly – realized she'd been followed, she looked horrified. "I am so sorry, your Highness."

Aunn cocked her head to the side. "Who are you and why are you in my brother's room?"

Gorim spared the poor girl the trouble of explaining herself. "I believe that she's your brother Bhelen's newest…playmate," he said delicately.

Aunn didn't think she had ever even seen as a casteless in the palace before but maybe if Bhelen kept her more-or-less confined to his room that would explain it. After all, Aunn was nosy, not obsessive. "My brother is supposed to be at my feast today," she informed the girl. She really had no idea how to speak to the casteless (as if her father would let her near one) but it would be a shame for the girl to wait here all day for a lover that was never going to come.

"Yes, of... of course. It was presumptuous of me to think that he would return to-I am sorry," the girl apologized, looking by turns both sheepish and disappointed. "If you allow me to take my leave of you, I will get out of here."

Aunn shrugged. "Stay or go, I really don't care. This isn't my room, after all, and if Bhelen lets you be here then who am I to say otherwise?"

The girl nodded gratefully. "Thank you, my Lady." With that, she all but ran from the room.

"Well, that was weird," Aunn declared as she also left the room. "We should hurry before someone sees us and makes us go do responsible things like attend the feast held in my honor."

"Because the idea of attending a feast in your honor is enough to bore me already," Gorim told her.

"You know, I can't quite tell if you meant that or not," Aunn remarked.

Gorim grinned. "That was the idea."

Aunn and Gorim were almost at the door when they ran into Lady Helmi's son Denek. His mother insisted he was a disappointment but Aunn had always liked him. His ideas about castes and politics were mildly scandalous – which was always a plus – although his defeatist attitude was a bit off-putting.

"Isn't your feast that way, Lady Aeducan?" he asked, frowning.

"It might be," Aunn conceded. "And I just might be avoiding it until after the Proving. You won't tell on me, will you?"

"I wouldn't dream of it," Denek promised. "I should have been here an hour ago myself but the merchants were very distracting."

"I won't tell if you won't," Aunn offered. "And remember: you never saw me…"

With that, she hurried out the door before she came across someone else more inclined to tattle. It wasn't that she didn't want to go to the feast, it was just that she was quite determined to go win her Proving first and once she put in an appearance then she knew she'd never get away in time.

"Freedom!" Aunn cheered as she looked around at the spectacle. The normally dignified Diamond Quarter had been transformed into almost a replica of the Commons although with a great deal more nobles and no beggars in sight.

"Most people wouldn't think a princess needed to escape from their palace," Gorim noted. "Well, not without some dire circumstances at least."

"Heading off would-be suitors is dire circumstances," Aunn insisted. She really didn't want to get married. It wasn't like she feared any potential husband would try to control her – and as she was a princess he would join her House – but the minute a girl got married everyone expected them to have children and that was not something that she wanted. In addition to the fact it would put her out of commission for at least a year on the fighting front – if not completely ruin her ability to do so and put her horribly out of shape – children were sticky and loud and she wanted little to do with them. She might consent to it if love were involved but the only man she'd ever loved was Gorim and his status as a warrior ensured that that just wasn't an option. Never let it be said that she couldn't find a silver lining.

To her left she noticed a man in the robes of a Shaper pleading with a noble she vaguely recognized as one of the Vollney. Vollney wasn't an important House by any stretch of the imagination but as nobles they could still cause problems for a lesser caste.

"Please, Lord Vollney," the Shaper cried. "Be reasonable! My work is a matter of public record, nothing more."

It was rather pointless to call for rationality in a member of a group who considered 'caring for nothing but the welfare of their House even at the expense of Orzammar itself' to be practical but Aunn was a little curious so she decided to intervene. "Is there a problem?" she asked politely.

"Ah, Lady Aeducan!" a Shaper had never sounded so relieved to see her before. "Maybe you can help sort this out. Your father loved my work on the Paragon Aeducan."

"As did I," Aunn informed him. "I've always been interested in the history of my House." Or mildly obsessed but there was little point dithering over semantics.

"This man is slandering House Vollney," Vollney accused, sneering at the scholar in question.

"That's quite a serious charge," Aunn remarked. "What, exactly, is he saying?"

"Does it matter?" Vollney dodged the question. "It's a direct attack on the honor of my House and as such I will not tolerate it!"

"Considering the seriousness of the charge, I would say that it matters quite a bit," Aunn disagreed. "Shaper?"

"Everything in my work is a matter of public record," the Shaper stressed again. "Not liking history does not make it
untrue. What Master Vollney objects to, in particular, is the section which details how the Paragon Vollney achieved that status by only a single vote which was mired in rumors of blackmail and intimidation."

"If it's a matter of public record then it hardly seems slanderous," Aunn reasoned. "All Assembly decisions are recorded by the Shaperate and such a close vote would naturally lead to suspicion even should your Paragon have been completely innocent of such actions. He wasn't noticeably biased, was he?" That was another matter altogether and unless the bias was in a positive direction she could understand his ire.

"No," Vollney conceded reluctantly. "But what if this were your Paragon Aeducan?"

"If I remember the Shaper's work correctly then the Paragon Aeducan was obsessed with protecting Orzammar which, given the dire straits the city was in at the time of the First Blight, isn't the worst flaw to have. The Assembly unanimously declared him a Paragon which doesn't happen often. You could point out that the Assembly did have to hack a would-be dissenter to death to make the vote unanimous as that is also a matter of public record but my family was not yet nobility and so they were not involved," Aunn replied matter-of-factly.

"So what are you saying?" Vollney demanded. "That I just let him go?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying," Aunn confirmed. "Unless you intend to kill all of the Shapers and alter the vote in the records then there is no way you're going to be able to completely make this go away."

"I will do as you say," Vollney agreed reluctantly, glaring at her. As he turned to go he muttered, "For now. If I were you I'd watch my step…"

"That fool has no idea how weak his House is nor how low he sits in it," Gorim fumed. "Shall I have him killed, my Lady?"

Aunn thought about it. It was unlikely that he would ever truly be able to pose a threat to her but he was a noble and so it was better not to take chances. Not to mention that he had just almost openly threatened her and if people thought that she was just going to accept that it would certainly happen again. "Do it," she ordered. "But make it look like an accident." It wouldn't do to ruin her reputation as the nice one by having someone violently killed over a minor insult now would it? Of course, the Shaper was witness to the whole thing but as she had just saved his life he should keep quiet and speaking out against a princess was rarely a good idea.

"You've shown yourself more daring and aggressive today than most believed of you," the Shaper said, sounding rather surprised.

"It had to be done," Aunn said regretfully. "He seemed quite determined to keep his House's history out of the public eye and while I could understand that if it were an unfortunate scandal better left forgotten, Assembly votes are not exactly some great secret. How ever can we hope to preserve our history if any objector can alter the record as he sees fit?"

"It is done, my Lady," Gorim announced as he returned to her side. "He won't live past the hour."

"You have proven House Aeducan to be a friend to the Shapers and remembering tradition," the Shaper declared. "Then again, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Heroism and defense of the little people have always been hallmarks of House Aeducan. One day, I hope to chronicle your own exploits, my Lady."

Aunn smiled at him. "Just remember this when you write about me."

"Of course," the Shaper promised.

"Now if you'll excuse me…" Aunn nodded as she took her leave of him and made her way towards the booths.

As she approached one of them the merchant running it – who she had just watched try and fail to convince one of the
Daces' that the fact that his wares looked like the kind of thing Bhelen sometimes wore was a good thing and wouldn't make him look like a cheap knockoff – straightened considerably. "Ah, Lady Aeducan. It's such an honor! Would you like to browse my wares?"

"That depends," Aunn replied. "Do you have anything I might be interested in?"

"All ladies are interested in silk, yes?" the merchant asked. "Only the finest from the surface."

"Lady Aeducan is a warrior," Gorim spoke up firmly. "She's bred for steel and battle."

"Oh, I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend," the merchant quickly backtracked.

"I do like pretty things," Aunn admitted. "But silk…it's just not very practical. I mean, what if someone were to stab me when I was wearing it? There'd be no resistance and I'd be seriously injured if not outright killed."

"Well, silk outfits are for when you aren't in danger of getting into a fight," the merchant tried to explain.

Aunn hid a smile. For all that the nobility of Orzammar had a reputation for being ruthless and violent, clearly the common folk had no idea just how pervasive that was. "Maybe you'd have better luck with someone else," she suggested.

"Of course, Lady Aeducan," the merchant nodded.

Maybe she'd have better luck at the next booth. "Good day," she greeted the merchant manning a booth a little ways down from the silk merchant.

"Lady Aeducan!" the merchant exclaimed, sounding awed. "It's an honor! Would you like to see my wares? I know that they aren't as fine as your own armor but-"

"You know very well that the Aeducans have their own source of armor," Gorim cut in.

The merchant winced. "Of course. No offense meant, my Lady."

"It's alright," Aunn told him. "Why don't you tell my about your pieces?"

"You are too kind, my Lady," the merchant told her gratefully before launching into a speech about his work. It wasn't like Aunn really cared but it never hurt to be polite and if the common folk thought that she, unlike pretty much everyone else of her caste except maybe Denek, actually cared about them…well was it any wonder that the people loved her?

As Aunn made her way along the Diamond Quarter scanning the booths for the next place she'd like to visit, she spotted her brothers not far away. Trian's back was to her but she knew that Bhelen could see her as he nodded her way.

"Any bets on whether Trian will leave within five minutes of me showing up?" Aunn asked quietly.

Gorim snorted. "I'm a warrior, not an idiot."

Whenever her father wasn't around to see him do so, Trian often left within minutes of Aunn arriving somewhere he happened to be at, although not without first saying something to remind her that he still didn't like her. That would probably annoy her a great deal if she didn't find it so amusing.

Holding her hand up to signal Gorim to stay back, Aunn slowly and carefully made her way to Trian and tapped him on the shoulder. "Hello!" she greeted brightly.

Trian spun around with a glare, his hand on his weapon. Upon seeing it was only his little sister and they were in a very crowded public place with plenty of witnesses, he rolled his eyes but did let go of his weapon.

Bhelen greeted her instead. "Atrast vala, big sister! How surprising to run into you out among the common folk," he teased.

Aunn groaned. "If walking around the Diamond Quarter is considered being out amongst the common folk then Father will never let me leave the palace, will he?"

"That might not be such a bad thing since duty requires that you attend our king father at the feast today and yet you're out here instead," Trian said bluntly, an accusing edge in his voice. "Have you so little respect for him and for your duty on this one day set aside to honor you?"

The glint in Aunn's eye as she opened her mouth to respond worried Gorim so he quickly interceded with, "Lord Harrowmont told me we wouldn't be needed for hours at least."

Trian's glare switched from his sister to her second. "Silence! If I want the opinion of my sibling's second, I will ask for it."

"Of course, your highness," Gorim apologized, looking appropriately chastened although Aunn knew he didn't mean a word of it. Gorim was actually originally supposed to be Trian's second as his father was their father's but her father had quickly deduced that Gorim and Aunn were a better match-up given his fear that Aunn would snap and stab anyone who tried to follow her around without a sense of humor to death and Trian's obsession with everyone knowing their place and acting accordingly. The sad thing was that her father was probably right about her…

Noting the slightly relieved look on Bhelen's face now that Trian's attention was focused elsewhere, Aunn decided to do the charitable thing and allow her little brother to be part of the fun. "A little help here, Bhelen?"

Her little brother shot her a betrayed look as he laughed nervously. "Sorry, Aunn, but you're on your own. I've been dealing with him all afternoon."

"What exactly is that supposed to mean, little brother?" Trian demanded menacingly.

"Nothing, Trian. I've been having a great time," Bhelen insisted. "The speech you gave to the legless boy about hard work and making something of himself was fantastic…"

The sarcasm was clearly lost on Trian which might explain how her two brothers were able to spend so much time together without attempting fratricide as Bhelen never did have any patience for anyone other than their father presuming to tell him what to do and Trian had an inclination to order everyone around. "As heir to the throne, it is my duty to impart wisdom and judgment upon those who need it…what's wrong with you?"

Aunn, who had started coughing as she desperately tried to cover up her laughter at Trian's antics, blinked innocently at him. "Nothing, nothing… And don't worry, Trian, I'll get right on heading back to the feast." After, of course, she won her Proving but even though there was no way Trian wasn't going to hear about that at some point she would really rather not prolong this discussion on the streets when there were dozens of people milling about and blatantly eavesdropping.

Trian eyed her skeptically. "Hn. Perhaps you were right, Bhelen, when you said our sister wasn't all useless breeding flesh. Come, Bhelen."

Aunn could only gape as Trian brushed past her and Bhelen followed, shooting her an apologetic look. She was about to become a commander and he thought she was 'useless breeding flesh'? Honestly. Then again, she had to remember that if it weren't for him she may very well have been just that. Trian had been six or so when he had first begun learning how to defend himself and he'd wanted someone to practice with. As Bhelen was only two while Aunn had been four, she had been Trian's first choice. She'd been a rather slow learner at first and kept grabbing hold of the wrong end of the blunted practice weapons but she had fallen in love with fighting and so two years later she'd insisted on being allowed to start lessons of her own. Her father was a staunch traditionalist and so it simply hadn't occurred to him that his daughter might be interested in such things but he'd quickly caved to her pleas. Even back then, she'd been the favorite. And now…well now fighting was the one thing she knew that she was good at. If Trian had a problem with her new position then he only had himself to blame.

"There was a compliment in there somewhere," Aunn remarked at last. "Still, we'd all better hope I'm good for more than having children as Ancestor's know that I have no intention of ever doing so…"

"That was fun. Nothing like being talked down to by the next king," Gorim said sarcastically once Trian was safely out of earshot.

Aunn sighed. "He means well," she claimed. "And not liking me, as bothersome and unusual as it may be, is hardly a crime."

"You always defend him," Gorim sounded awed. Was it really so strange she could find one non-negative thing to say about her older brother? It looked like he really needed to work on his image. "I wish I had your understanding."

Aunn smiled. "What can I say? I'm just amazing that way. Now come on. Is that a magic booth? I wonder what they have…" Dwarves, of course, were resistant to magic and couldn't become mages themselves so she was rather curious as to what this particular merchant was peddling.

Unfortunately, the moment the merchant spotted her he started hyperventilating and so when she was actually standing in front of him his voice was higher than it should have been. "Lady Aeducan? Here…in my booth…it's…an honor…" he managed to get out before promptly fainting.

"He's fainted," Gorim announced unnecessarily. "You make quite the impression these days."

"Clearly," Aunn replied shortly, staring at the space the merchant had been occupying before passing out in outright disbelief and slight horror.

"Is it hard to be the king's child, never able to just blend in?" Gorim asked softly, noting that Aunn had yet to look away from where the merchant had been standing.

"Normally, no," Aunn replied slowly. "Because I understand that my life at its worst is usually better than most people could get at their best. But at other times…like, I don't know, when someone faints because I come near them…then yes, yes it is."

"If it's any consolation, I can spend hours in your presence without feeling even remotely light-headed," Gorim said warmly.

A slow smile spread across Aunn's face. "You can never overstate the importance of having someone around who you can rely on to stay conscious in a pinch."

"I live to serve, my Lady," Gorim smiled back. "Shall we move on?"

Aunn nodded and as she turned to go she saw a merchant across the way biting his lip nervously and staring intently at her. "Gorim, is it just me or does that merchant really want to talk to me?"

Gorim shrugged. "Well, it's either that or he's trying not to faint."

Aunn groaned. "You're never going to let me live that down, are you?"

"I wouldn't say never," Gorim prevaricate. "Just not until it stops being amusing."

"And when would that be?" Aunn countered. "Never?"

"You said it, not me," Gorim pointed out.

Rolling her eyes, Aunn decided to go see what the merchant wanted.

"Ah, Lady Aeducan," the merchant greeted her enthusiastically if a little anxiously. "I'd been hoping to discuss a proposition of sorts with you but I dared not approach you."

"Yet you dare now?" Gorim challenged.

As Aunn was the one who chose to approach him instead of just avoiding the situation, she wasn't particularly
annoyed. "If you have something to say I'd advise you to say it quickly. I do have to get to the Proving soon."

The merchant nodded. "Ah, yes, of course. You see, I had a dagger commissioned as a gift for your first command. I had a messenger bring it by the palace but Prince Trian threw him out. I had him beaten severely, of course."

Well that was hardly surprising. "I'm sure Trian had his reasons," Aunn said neutrally. The last thing she needed was to fuel the persistent rumors that she and Trian were constantly at each other's throats. If only Trian would occasionally think of these things before starting in on her in public...

"Won't you at least look at the dagger?" the merchant entreated.

"I suppose that won't do any harm," Aunn agreed readily. "I make no promises, though."

"Of course, my Lady," the merchant nodded as he bent down to retrieve the dagger. "It took some of the best smiths in Orzammar two years to complete."

"It's so pretty…" Aunn gushed, taking the dagger in her hand.

"Most people don't think of lethal weapons as 'pretty'," Gorim commented, looking a little surprised at the skill of the craftsmanship.

"Most people are unbearably close-minded," Aunn replied absently.

"So you like it?" the merchant asked hopefully. "I hope that you'll wear it when you become our next Queen."

That drew Aunn's attention – however reluctantly – away from the dagger. "Me become Queen? Trian is the heir, not me." She had yet to decide if she wanted to be Queen as she still hadn't completely abandoned hope of convincing her father to let her run off and join the Grey Wardens – rumor had it that the reason they were currently in Orzammar was to see if a Fifth Blight was starting – and she doubted she could help defeat the possible Blight and return home either before her father died or before either Trian or Bhelen had sufficiently strengthened their claim to the throne. Still, if she wasn't going to get to become a Warden she certainly didn't want Trian to actually have the authority to boss her around for the rest of her life although openly acknowledging that wouldn't end well.

"Ah, but you are the people's choice and rumor has it that the second child of King Endrin will rule when he returns to the Stone," the merchant declared boldly.

"Rumors indeed. It's a princely gift. If Trian recognizes it, though, it may send the wrong message," Gorim cautioned. He paused. "Or the right one, depending on your view."

"I know that I shouldn't risk offending Trian," Aunn mused. "Especially since he's already been involved in the matter. But on the other hand it's a really pretty dagger…fine. I'll take it."

The merchant couldn't hide his elation. "You do me great honor, my Lady."

"What he means is that you'll bring uncountable gold to him if you wear that piece in public," Gorim translated helpfully.

"I thank you for your generous gift," Aunn told the merchant happily, pocketing the dagger.

She was about to head for the gate but out of the corner of her eye she saw two well-dressed girls with brands on their faces watching the nobles milling around. The casteless tended to make her rather uncomfortable but she was pretty sure that that was just a lack of exposure and she rarely got a chance to even see them, let alone interact with them. Hopefully these two wouldn't run away like that red-headed girl this morning had.

"Hello my lady," one of the casteless woman greeted her. "May I say that you look striking today? And is this your paramour?"

"This is my second, Ser Gorim," Aunn revealed, pointedly ignoring the question.

"Warrior caste isn't bad," the woman said hesitantly.

"We didn't pay gold for these permits to settle for warrior caste, Teli," the other woman snapped.

"Sorry, ser," Teli apologized.

"Why's it matter that you're not a noble, Gorim?" Aunn asked curiously. Well, she knew why it mattered in many situations including their own romance but not why these girls cared.

"These are noble-hunters, my Lady," Gorim explained somewhat awkwardly. A quick glance at Aunn showed that she didn't know what that was but wasn't going to ask and reveal her ignorance. "Because a man takes his caste from his father, these women hope to bear a nobleman's son and be raised up to that House to care for the child. It provides new sword arms for the house, and many nobles look favorably on such women."

"I bet they do," Aunn murmured, trying to sort out how she felt about the matter. It wasn't really important since, as a woman, she wouldn't ever make use of a noble hunter herself (for if a noblewoman intended to have children they would find a nobleman or risk wasting nine months of their life on a casteless child they couldn't keep anyway) but she always liked to have an opinion. If noble boys could have children with casteless women – like maybe Bhelen intended to do with that casteless girl from his room – then House Aeducan could continue into the next generation without her needing to feel she was neglecting her duty or letting her House down by not wanting children herself. "House Aeducan could always use more swords…"

"Then maybe you could tell your brothers about us?" Teli asked hopefully. She seemed so eager and excited that she was verging on being impertinent but it was kind of adorable and no one was around to see it so Aunn decided to let it go.

"Teli!" the other woman cried. "Don't be so bold."

"I'll think about it," Aunn said noncommittally. "Good day."

"Are you going to do it?" Gorim asked as they walked away.

"Bhelen, it seems, already has someone and would you really want to have that conversation with Trian?" Aunn asked rhetorically.

"Point," Gorim admitted.

A royal guard stopped her as she made her way towards the entrance to the Commons. "Are you thinking of going to watch the Proving, my Lady?"

"Something like that," Aunn confirmed. "Why?"

"Your father has instructed us not to let you pass through the Commons unaccompanied," the guard explained.

Aunn drew back, offended. "I am perfectly capable of walking to the Provings by myself!"

"Do you remember how I told you that there were only a certain number of permits to sell wares in the Diamond Quarter? The ones that did not manage to obtain one have set up shop in the Commons and your father was concerned that you might be ambushed by overeager merchants," Gorim explained, somewhat apologetically. "I should have mentioned this sooner."

Aunn closed her eyes and sighed. She was more than capable of handling herself and she just bet that Trian and Bhelen hadn't had to have escorts. Still, it wouldn't do to publically defy the King even if he was her father and it would do her reputation no favors either. "This is silly but I will comply."

"Excellent, my Lady. Do you wish to go now?" the guard inquired politely.

Aunn nodded. "Yes, take me to the Proving Ground."

All things considered, the merchants weren't overly unruly although Aunn did have to admit that the presence of her royal escort probably helped on that front.

"Lady Aeducan!" the Proving Master exclaimed when he saw her. "Are you here to watch these brave young men do battle in your honor?"

Aunn resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Clearly he was in on Harrowmont's plan to get her interested in a noble boy. "No, I'm here to fight," she announced.

The Proving Master's eyes widened. "But this Proving is in your honor," he said as if she weren't already well aware.

"Then honor her by doing as she asks," Gorim prompted. "Lady Aeducan will fight in this Proving."

"I will honor these fighters by testing their skill personally," Aunn claimed. Really, she just wanted to head off another round of would-be suitors and she always loved a good fight.

"Of course. It is well within your rights…" the Proving Master agreed before turning to face the crowd and inform them of Aunn's participation. "Men and Women of Orzammar, we have a late entry in today's Provings. I give you…the Lady Aeducan herself!"

At the inevitable cheering – if only because commoners were always worried that nobles would react badly to the slightest insult, and with good reason – Aunn dipped her head in acknowledgement.

She made her way down to the floor of the Proving Arena to face off against her first opponent. He looked vaguely familiar so she supposed he was a noble although his name escaped her at the moment.

"This is a glory Proving fought under the watchful eyes of the Paragons of Orzammar for the honor of House Aeducan," the Proving Master recited. "Lady Aeducan's first opponent is Aller Bemot, youngest son of Lord Bemot."

"You honor me with this fight," Aller told her.

"The honor is mine," Aunn responded automatically.

Aller seemed a skilled enough opponent although she had little difficulty defeating him. That was one potential suitor down, at least.

Her next opponent she had heard of and was quite impressed by. On her way to the Proving Master, she'd heard grumblings that her new opponent had even been allowed to compete at all and some vain hopes about her being 'put in her place.' If the decisive victory the girl had won just as Aunn had walked in was any indication, she was already there.

"This is a glory Proving fought under the watchful eyes of the Paragons of Orzammar for the honor of House Aeducan," the Proving Master announced. "Lady Aeducan next fights Adal Helmi, eldest daughter of Lady Helmi."

Adal stared at her as though she were a Paragon. "You are my inspiration," she said reverently. "And an inspiration to all those who follow your example and live by the sword."

"Thank you," Aunn said honestly. Acknowledgement was always nice and Adal was no mere recreational fighter herself. She would certainly be a help in getting the bronto of Orzammar to come around on their ridiculous and outdated belief that women had no place wielding a sword. "Be proud of getting this far."

This fight was certainly unusual because there were seldom enough non-Silent Sister female fighters to pit against each other and she and Adal were both very good. Aunn wasn't entirely sure how she felt about the Silent Sisters. On the one hand, they were the single most prestigious order women fighters could join. On the other hand, their unfortunate practice of cutting out their tongue to emulate of the Paragon Astyth the Grey rendered them nice and neutralized as a threat to the status quo. Silent Sisters never married as their lack of an ability to speak meant they could not function without an interpreter and thus could not raise daughters to also seek to fight. As it was a struggle for most female fighters to gain the acknowledgement and respect that the Silent Sisters commanded so easily, many of the best joined their ranks and rendered themselves unable to vocally support their cause or really influence anything.

Once Aunn had defeated Adal she was faced with an opponent significantly older than herself.

"This is a glory Proving fought under the watchful eyes of the Paragons of Orzammar for the honor of House Aeducan," the Proving Master said again. Aunn knew that tradition demanded that he recite that before each of the matches but by the Stone it was kind of getting annoying. Best not to mention that, however, lest she be labeled anti-tradition in the eyes of the people. "Next, Lady Aeducan will face Ser Blackstone, Deep Roads squad leader of the warrior caste."

"Consider this your education, child," Blackstone said patronizingly. "Try to learn as you bleed."

"I will," Aunn said diplomatically, resolving to make him eat those words.

The battle was not actually as difficult as she'd expected given his experience and it was clear that he'd underestimated her. As the next fight was the championship round, there was a slight break and she made her way back up to the Proving Master and Gorim to see what they'd thought of her victories.

"I had the whole left half of the crowd cheering for you," Gorim informed her the minute she got near him. "You're quite popular with the people."

"I'm glad," Aunn declared. "Especially as I know some will see this as me grandstanding despite the fact that this is my Proving so a lot of attention is going to be focused on me anyway."

"And by 'some' do you mean 'Trian'?" Gorim asked quietly.

"Who else?" Aunn asked rhetorically.

"My Lady, you're doing phenomenally," the Proving Master announced. "Your match against Lady Helmi was a crowd-pleaser. It's been some time since we've had two female fighters of such skill and what's more neither of you were Silent Sisters. And then there was your bout against Ser Blackstone…I guess this just goes to show that even the best of the warrior caste cannot stand against a member of House Aeducan."

Or it could just show that she was the best fighter here. What Aunn really wanted was to see how she compared to her cousin Piotin but he was far too busy preparing for tomorrow's expedition to have time to enter a Proving. "Who else made it to the final round?" she inquired.

"Frandlin Ivo," the Proving Master responded. "And fortunately neither of you wears a helm so I can be reasonably sure to avoid all that unpleasantness of last week's Proving that was supposed to honor the Grey Warden Duncan."

This was the first Aunn had heard about this. Then again, she had been rather busy as of late so perhaps it wasn't surprising. "What happened? How does a Proving fail to honor the person it is held in honor of? Did he enter and lose or something?"

The Proving Master shook his head ruefully. "If only. I actually think being defeated would have impressed Duncan and provided him with a recruit. No, instead we had Everd win. He was seen as a talented fighter although his skill in that particular Proving took us all by surprise as it was far better than we'd come to expect from him."

"That doesn't exactly sound scandalous," Aunn pointed out.

"That's because we hadn't realized that it was. Mere moments after Everd won the Proving…he stumbled out into the Arena, dead drunk," the Proving Master explained.

Aunn frowned. "Wasn't he already in the Arena?"

"That's what we thought," the Proving Master continued. "But clearly that wasn't so. We bid him to take off his helm and reveal who he really was and he did…but not before she told us quite clearly to remember that she had bested everyone there."

"Wait…" Aunn held up a hand to halt the story. "All Proving matches begin with the fighters saying something about how they hope the other finds honor – unless they're really unpleasant or have a personal issue with you and then insults you instead. To not do so would mean that they were either a Silent Sister or horribly rude. If faux-Everd was actually a woman fighter then how did none of her opponents notice?"

The Proving Master shrugged. "That, I do not know. You would have to ask them. Perhaps she was skilled with imitating voices?"

"Maybe. So who was it really?" Aunn asked impatiently, wishing she'd been there to see it. If the Proving Master's hesitation to reveal the identity was any indication then it would have been quite a sight.

"It was a…a casteless," the Proving Master shuddered like speaking of the event was dishonoring him. "We had her arrested, of course. Duncan wanted to recruit her and when he'd heard that she'd escaped prison and killed Beraht he tried to find her. Fortunately, we arrived before he did and so he's still looking for someone to recruit."

"That sounds like quite a scandal," Aunn said diplomatically, now really wishing she'd shown up at the Proving. She had wanted to go but her father, ever mindful of her desire to run off and join the Grey Wardens, hadn't allowed it. Sometimes being the favorite was really stifling, as spoiled as that might sound. She highly doubted her father would even notice if Bhelen wanted to go off and join the Wardens, after all.

"That it was," the Proving Master agreed. "And legally it never happened. Are you ready for your final match?"

Aunn nodded. "Indeed." With that, she quickly made her way back down to the Proving Arena where her final opponent was waiting for her.

"This is a glory Proving fought under the watchful eyes of the Paragons of Orzammar for the honor of House Aeducan," the Proving Master said for the final time. "Many fine warriors have fought and fell today and at last only two remain. Frandlin Ivo, second son of Lord Ivo will take on the Lady Aeducan, in whose honor this Proving is being held."

"You fight well. I wish you glory today and glory tomorrow," Ivo told her. He had a rather strange way of speaking, Aunn noted, and it seemed almost as if he were hiding something. She had never met him before and so had no idea if he were actually hiding something or if he just sounded naturally suspicious. It was an unfortunate trait to have either way.

"I wish you glory as well," Aunn replied. Like the others, Ivo was skilled but not exactly in her league. Once she'd won, she returned to Gorim so they could leave.

"Congratulations, my Lady," the Proving Master told her, pleased. "Clearly the Ancestors favor you and House Aeducan greatly. Your father had a ceremonial helm commissioned for the winner of the Proving and, as such, it is yours."

Aunn didn't really do helms because, practical or not, she thought they looked ridiculous and made it difficult to hear. Still, she couldn't exactly come right out and say that but perhaps… "Send it to Frandlin Ivo," she said magnanimously. "He was a worthy opponent."

The Proving Master not. "Of course, Lady Aeducan. Your honor and generosity will not be forgotten anytime soon." It was always easy to be generous if you didn't want what you were giving away in the first place.

"That was fun and should serve as a nice deterrent to your suitors," Gorim said quietly. "Are you ready to get back to the feast, my Lady?"

Aunn nodded. "I am. Now that that's taken care of we can deal with the politics. Let's try to keep the body count to a minimum, shall we?"

[Sarah1281]

Chapter Two: Provings and Plots

The minute Aunn had quietly slipped through the doors leading to the feast, she had been ambushed by a friendly-looking man about twice her age. He was probably important but she could not for the life of her remember his name.

"May I have a moment of your time, my Lady?" the man asked politely but insistently. "It concerns a matter most urgent."

Aunn shot a longing look at the back of the room where her father was, predictably, surrounded by Lord Harrowmont and a few other heads of Houses. She rather wished she could at least have actually officially received her commission before people attempted to take advantage of it but she knew better than to send people away before seeing what they wanted. Even if it was a trap, it was smarter to have some idea of the situation rather than remaining ignorant and being taken by surprise later. "Gorim, how much time do I have?"

"It looks like the heads of Houses Bemot and Meino are keeping your father busy," Gorim reported, to her disappointment. "So you have plenty of time to hear out our dear friend, Lord Dace." Ah, that was the name. Gorim always made a point to bring up people's names in conversations in case she didn't remember them. She had no idea how he managed to keep everyone straight but it was certainly invaluable to her. And was that sarcasm when he called Dace their 'dear friend'? Clearly he didn't like the man. She'd have to remember to ask about that later.


"You're a credit to your caste, Ser Gorim. I've always said so. If I had a daughter, I'd give her to you and make you the noble you deserve to be," Lord Dace replied pleasantly. Or at least it would have been pleasant if there hadn't been a noticeable sarcastic undertone to his words. Seriously, when had these two even met let alone decided that they hated each other? Had Gorim overheard Dace insulting House Aeducan or even her in the past? He did tend to get upset about that although he probably would have informed her if that was the case.

"You honor me, my Lord," Gorim deadpanned. Okay, now she was really starting to feel clueless and wasn't it Gorim's job to prevent that? Still, she supposed it wouldn't be proper to explain whatever issue they had right then, especially since they were pretending to have no such issue.

"You said this matter was most urgent?" Aunn prompted.

Dace started. "Oh, yes. What do you know about surface dwarves?"

Aunn frowned. That was a bit of a strange question. "They live on the surface, of course, and thus they and their descendents forfeit their caste. Any surface merchants who wish to trade in Orzammar can only come down here twice a year and must wear a temporary brand so everyone realizes what they are."

"Very good," Dace nodded approvingly. "And surely you can see the injustice inherit in such an arrangement?"

"Perhaps you can…elaborate?" Aunn requested cautiously. 'Injustice' wasn't really a word nobles threw around often. Well, not unless they were accusing fellow nobles of wronging them but surfacers were rarely involved in such things.

"There is a vote coming up in the Assembly next week," Dace explained. "An important one. If it passes then the surface dwarves will regain their castes and I would like your support in this matter."

"Surfacers regaining their caste…" Aunn mused. "That sounds highly contentious."

"It is," Dace admitted. "But it's the right thing to do and I'm pretty sure that you know that, too. To deny our poor surface brethren the ability to return to the land of their ancestors simply because they have walked in the sun? Surely you see what a travesty this is."

And wow was he laying it on a little thick. Did he think she was stupid or something? If people had that opinion of her she would need to fix that and she might as well start here. "That does sound like quite a problem," Aunn said slowly. "But that still does not explain your interest in this."

"What do you mean?" Dace feigned ignorance. "I've told you, I'm only concerned in our poor, deprived surface brethren…oh, who am I kidding?" Dace's tone changed from idealistic to amused when he saw she wasn't buying it. "Well-spotted, Lady Aeducan. To be honest, I don't care a whit about the surfacers but my wife's got a cousin that joined up with an expedition last year hoping to make a name for himself but the expedition failed and now he can't come back. I think he's a rather useless sort, myself, but she's terribly fond of him."

And there it was. Dace's ulterior motive for his so-called social justice crusade all spelled out for her. Was it usual for people to explain in such detail what they were really after so easily? She somehow doubted it although this motive wasn't particularly nefarious nor would it do any damage to her and if she did him a favor and he owed her…she'd have to investigate this more thoroughly later before committing one way or another. "The vote is next week, you say? I'll think about it. What would I have to do?"

"Nothing much," Dace told her. "But you'll need to decide quickly. When your father presents you before us I'll ask how you feel about the matter and you express your belief that our surface brethren should be allowed to rejoin their houses."

"I'll think quickly then and get back to you," Aunn promised, taking her leave of him. She really wasn't comfortable having this little information about the matter but she'd have to make do with what she could find out before her father was finished with Lord Bemot and Lord Meino.

Ancestors knew that the Lords could go on for hours but she had no idea how long those two had already been at it. Straining her ears, she could hear something about them wanting to use the only other known dwarven city Kal-Sharok – recently discovered to have survived the fall of their empire and even more recently had contact been reestablished by her father – as a cheap source of labor and her father insisting that their Assembly respecting Orzammar's rule was more important. The monetary interests of two noble Houses pitted against her father's staunch traditionalism would certainly take some time but, again, she wasn't sure how much time it had already taken.

She saw three humans in the room, which was a rarity. The last human she could remember meeting was a scholar of some sorts – Genitivi, she believed his name was – and that had been nearly two years ago. Those must be the Grey Wardens, then. Two of them didn't look very impressive but the one in the middle looked like he could be dangerous. She bet he was Duncan. She'd have to remember to speak with him before the night was over. After all, her father might normally try to keep her away from the people she half-wanted to run away to join but since he had invited them to this feast held in her honor he surely couldn't complain. Much. Right?

As Aunn passed by Lady Helmi, the older woman shook her head sadly. "Oh, thank the Ancestors that Darina never lived to see this…"

Aunn could only assume that Lady Helmi was trying to attract her attention as Darina Aeducan (formerly Darina Lynchcar) was her mother who had passed on several years back. The two women had been close friends and so Lady Helmi often brought her up when she was speaking to her or her brothers. "Was there something you needed, Lady Helmi?" Aunn asked politely, stopping in front of her.

"Need? Oh, nothing like that," Lady Helmi claimed. "I was just reflecting how your mother would have melted right into the stone had she lived to see what you just did…"

"And what did I just do?" Aunn challenged. Talk to Lord Dace? By the stone, just how many people around here couldn't stand him, anyway? And why didn't she know about this? And for that matter how did she even hear what they were discussing all the way over there? They weren't exactly speaking loudly.

"Do you know why Lord Dace wants the surfacers to be given their caste back?" Lady Helmi answered Aunn's question with one of her own.

"That was what I was hoping to find out, yes," Aunn admitted.

"Last year House Dace invested quite a bit of money into a surface expedition. When it went bad, the guild was left with no money to repay the debt. Several of the guild members descend from nobility, however, and so if this vote were to pass…" Lady Helmi trailed off, looking at her pointedly.

"Then their noble Houses would be forced to repay the debt to House Dace," Aunn concluded.

"Precisely, child," Lady Dace replied with satisfaction. "If you support him then your first commission will be marked by all the major noble Houses turning their back on you. And you might also want to know that the Houses that would be the hardest hit if the vote passes are Houses Helmi and Aeducan. In the future, it would behoove you to look for people's true motivations before agreeing to support them."

Aunn's eyes flashed. She hadn't even been named commander yet and already Dace was trying to trick her into weakening her own House? Oh, she had no doubt she herself would be well-compensated but House Aeducan was second in importance only to Orzammar itself and so there was no way she would ever consider such a deal. "I see. I'll deal with it."

"Don't tip your hand," Lady Helmi advised. "Just smile and promise to do what he asks and then when the time comes and he asks how you feel about the vote, announce that the surfacers lose their caste for a reason and watch him fall flat on his face."

"I will take that under consideration," Aunn agreed before turning and heading straight back to Lord Dace. It would be just as foolish to blindly trust Lady Helmi as it was to trust Lord Dace. Granted, Lady Helmi had been a friend of her mother but her mother had been dead for a decade and so lingering feelings of friendship could not be counted on. House Helmi was a strong ally of House Aeducan but so was House Dace. If Lady Helmi spoke the truth that her House would also be heavily hit by Dace's scheme then her motives for warning her could be trusted. On the other hand, Dace had been quick to offer up a plausible ulterior motive for his own request for help in order to distract her from his true goal.

Dace looked surprised to see her back so soon. "Have you decided already? Or were my instructions not clear?"

"No, they were clear alright," Aunn assured him. "But you kind of forgot to mention a little relevant piece of information."

Dace raised an eyebrow. "Oh, and what might that be?"

"You didn't tell me that you were planning on using this to cover your own losses from a failed expedition by taking the money from the surfacers noble relatives, including from my House," Aunn said casually.

Dace blinked. "What? Well, yes, I suppose that could have the side-effect but think about the bigger picture here! Our poor lost and lonely surface br-"

"Nice try," Aunn interrupted. "But you already confessed that you don't care about them."

Dace forced a laugh. "Well-played, my Lady. Welcome to Assembly politics. You won't be half-bad at it, it seems. Now if you'll excuse me…"

But Aunn wasn't finished. "Not so fast."

"You tried to cheat a member of the first House of Orzammar at her own feast," Gorim added.

There was danger in his eyes when he turned back around. "For now, yes. Trian's ascension isn't nearly assured so I would watch my step if I were you."

Aunn knew that he was probably right about Trian – hadn't that been all anyone wanted to talk about these days and part of the reason he was so furious at her? – but had to take that risk. If she showed weakness here at the very start then it would come back to haunt her later. She had to be firm on this although she was a little concerned about how House Dace would react. "You insult my House," she said simply.

As Gorim got everyone's attention by calling an honor proving, she kept her eyes on Dace. He looked a little put-out but confident, smug even. She would have to prove that she wasn't some insignificant little girl to be used and then dismissed.

"What's this?" her father asked, standing up and looked quite cheered that there was an interruption from his discussion with Bemot and Meino. "My little girl already showing her claws?"

"Excellent," Meino said cheerfully. "I thought this was going to be all politics."

"Lord Dace's champion will be his son, Mandar," Harrowmont cautioned. "Are you sure you wish to do this?"

"Oh, absolutely," Aunn confirmed. Even if she weren't she could hardly back out now that everyone's eyes were on her, now could she?



By the time Mandar Dace had been tracked down and the entire party had migrated to the Proving Ground and had enlisted the Proving Master's assistance about half an hour had passed.

Aunn was feeling fairly confident. She'd heard of Mandar Dace, of course, as he often fought Provings to defend him family's honor. Normally her family relied on cousin Piotin but the whole point of her challenging House Dace was so that she could be seen as doing something.

"This is an honor Proving to determine whether House Dace insulted House Aeducan's honor," the Proving Master announced. "Representing House Dace is Mandar Dace and representing House Aeducan is the Princess Aunn."

Aunn allowed a small smile to flicker across her face. "Let's give them a show, Mandar."

Mandar didn't respond, probably taking this a lot more seriously than she was. Aunn knew that since both of them would not be leaving the arena alive she really should be more concerned but this was fighting. This was what she was good at. Her winning streak had been completely unbroken for seven years and so it was difficult to imaging losing here. Needless to say that if she died in the next few minutes – or even fell in battle at any point in the near future – it would be a terrible surprise to her.

Her opponent interrupted her musings just then by swinging his maul at her head. Aunn dodged the blow with ease and pulled out her beloved new dagger. She'd had great fun with it during the Proving and she'd most likely continue to enjoy it until the next shiny new weapon came along. Raising her shield to block yet another blow, she stabbed him. First blood was hers. This wasn't one of those soft contests, though, and so they kept going.

Aunn had a few seconds of uninterrupted attack time after bashing her shield on Mandar's head left him disoriented and she took advantage on it to land a few more blows. She wasn't fast enough to dodge his next blow completely but it only landed on her shoulder and the armor absorbed most of it. After a few more parries and dodges from both sides, Mandar tried to catch her off guard by spinning around behind her but he mistimed it as he struggled to regain his footing Aunn slit his throat.

She had won.

"The winner is Princess Aunn," the Proving Master announced unnecessarily. "The ancestors have spoken. House Dace did indeed wrong House Aeducan."

"I am sorry, Ronus," her father said gently.

Lord Dace – Ronus, apparently – shook himself. He looked haunted but given that he had just watched his son fight and die for his miscalculation concerning Aunn it was hardly surprising. She suddenly remembered his sarcastic comment to Gorim earlier in the evening about having no daughters and she didn't think she had heard of Mandar having any sons. Did she just kill this man's only child? Maybe that was why her father sounded so sympathetic, because he knew that if things had been different it would have been him that was now short a child. But it was really best not to dwell. What's done is done, after all, and no amount of regret can change it.

"I…I apologize for my insult to House Aeducan," Lord Dace said shakily before bowing slightly and all but fleeing for the door to mourn his son.

There was no point in regret and it had to be done. Sacrificing the one to save many later, wasn't that the logic behind the beginning of using the Provings to settle disputes? The conflict between Houses Aeducan and Dace was settled almost as soon as it had begun and no one would think that she was an easy target now. It had to be done.



When Aunn returned to the feast, she headed straight for her father. She had had more than enough excitement for one formal event but she wouldn't be able to escape until the ritual was completed.

"Ah, there you are," her father greeted her. "I heard that you won another Proving today besides the one we just witnessed. Winning a Proving held in your own honor…I've never heard of that being done before but I suppose you never were one to sit by when something exciting was going on. Still, we've made all these nobles wait long enough. Are you ready to be presented?"

Aunn took a deep breath and nodded. She'd bugged Trian for details about what it was like when he became a commander but he'd seemed to enjoy keeping her in the dark. He did say something about it being an elaborate ritual, however, and that made her a bit anxious. She really did not have the attention span for that sort of thing.

"Lords, Ladies, may I have a moment of your time?" her father asked, rising from his throne. "Who would pose a question to the prospective commander? Who seeks to know the prospect better? No one? The ritual is complete. I present to you Orzammar's next commander!"

Aunn dutifully bowed her head while inwardly plotting Trian's death. He'd made her think it was going to take hours! Honestly…

"Tomorrow she will lead part of a mission to strike a great blow against the darkspawn. Not only will this allow us to recover access to some of our most important mines but it allows our honored guest, the head of the Ferelden Grey Wardens Duncan, to strike deep into the Deep Roads," her father continued.

On cue, the dangerous-looking one from earlier – who was apparently indeed Duncan – stepped forward. "Thank you, King Endrin. While the darkspawn appear to withdraw it is only because they are amassing on the surface. I hope to discover whether this is truly a Blight."

"We are honored to have you with us, my friend," her father said warmly. As everyone's attention returned to whatever it was they had been doing before, he addressed her personally. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"That was it?" Aunn still couldn't believe it. "That took maybe two minutes and the ritual part was less than half a minute!"

"Would you rather the ritual took longer?" her father asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Well, no…" Aunn admitted. "But it hardly felt like a ritual at all."

"Clearly the people who started the ritual shared your aversion to long ceremonies," her father remarked. "Now then, my new commander, go find your brother and send him to me."

"Yes, father," Aunn nodded. She didn't enjoy running errands like a servant but he was providing her with an escape plan so it all evened out.

Her father laughed. "So dutiful. Do try not to accidentally engage in yet another Proving on the way there, will you?"

"I'll do my best," Aunn promised.

"I'm not sure I feel reassured," her father teased. "Gorim, do try to keep my daughter out of trouble."

Gorim nodded solemnly. "I'll do whatever is dwarvenly possible to do so."

Aunn pouted. "Oh, gang up on me why don't you…" With that, she spun on her heel and headed for the door, Gorim following closely behind her. When she was almost to the door, she spotted the Grey Warden Duncan standing alone off to the side. Now was about as good a time as ever to speak to him, right? If she didn't do it now then Ancestors knew she might not get a chance before he left as he had no reason to stay once his venture into the Deep Roads were over and she would be busy enough herself tomorrow.

"Ah, Lady Aeducan," Duncan greeted her. "How nice to finally meet you at last."

Aunn cocked her head. "Finally? Have you been waiting for me?"

"No, nothing like that," Duncan assured her. "But your father can hardly stop talking about you. He says you may be the quickest fighter in all of House Aeducan."

So her father was talking about her to Duncan, of all people? Interesting. One would think that that went against his plan to refuse to allow her anywhere near the Wardens. "My father does me great honor," Aunn said respectfully. Of course, she had little doubt that that was true and, if nothing else, she was only second to her cousin Piotin. And even that wasn't guaranteed as she never got to fight him!

Duncan chuckled. "I have no doubt that it is true."

"So…" Aunn began slowly, surreptitiously glancing at her father to make sure he was otherwise occupied. He was. Good. "I don't know nearly as much as I'd like to about the Grey Wardens." But what she felt wasn't enough was probably more than most had any desire to, so it really was all a matter of perspective.

"What would you like to know?" Duncan asked her. "He are an ancient order dedicated to wiping out the darkspawn wherever we may find them but our top priority is stopping a Blight no matter what the cost."

"And you think there may be a Blight starting now?" Aunn queried. "That's what I've heard, anyway."

Duncan nodded solemnly. "Indeed, that's what I intend to see tomorrow. It could be just a sudden influx of surface raids but I'm not convinced. There are certain signs to identify a Blight, you see. Smarter, more organized darkspawn are definitely a symptom and if I see them tomorrow in addition to their decreased presence in the Deep Roads then I will be that much closer to being sure that this is a Blight."

"Is it true that surfacers really believe that the darkspawn are extinct?" Aunn wondered aloud. She couldn't believe that anyone – not even the surfacers – could be so blind but she supposed that if they weren't the ones living with darkspawn bearing down on their city every single day then they could afford to be blind.

"Indeed," Duncan confirmed. "In fact, it is somewhat refreshing to be in Orzammar where people take this threat seriously. Usually when I am out recruiting people ask me whether darkspawn is just a dwarven problem."

"Oh, it's a just dwarven problem alright," Aunn laughed humorlessly. "Until we fall and there's nothing standing between them and the darkspawn. You'd think the Blights of the past would have taught them that nothing good comes from allowing allies to fall to those monsters."

"The last Blight was so long ago many do not wish to believe it could happen again. These darkspawn incursion are convincing people that the darkspawn are not extinct after all but it's quite a leap from that to another Archdemon has awakened, especially since it has yet to show itself," Duncan explained.

"Humans must have short memories," Aunn decided. She looked suddenly wistful. "I wish I could join you…"

"Your father wouldn't be pleased to hear that," Duncan cautioned. "Orzammar needs you here."

Aunn sighed. "I suppose it does. But by the stone I wish it didn't sometimes. A Blight…stopping that is far more important than anything I could hope to accomplish here."

"If you truly feel that way I could try talking to your father again after the feast," Duncan offered. "Though I do not believe that he will change his mind."

Aunn smiled up at him. "That would be great. Thank you." 'Again', had he said? So he had already spoken to her father about the matter? That was promising. In all honestly, she didn't really expect anything to come of this but it never hurt to hope, right? It wasn't like she didn't love Orzammar because she did. She wouldn't be willing to sacrifice her life down here forever but since Grey Wardens can keep their caste and their Houses and were only absolutely essential during a Blight, once the threat was over she could return. She was really starting to think sacrificing her chance at the throne might be worth it to protect her home. Not to mention she had always had an illicit desire to see the surface and becoming a Warden was the only way she'd ever be able to act on it.

With that, she took her leave of Duncan and went off in search of her older brother. When she entered the hallway leading towards the bedrooms, Gorim took her off to one side outside of the hearing range of the two guards stationed there.

"Are you okay?" he asked her softly.

Aunn blinked. "Okay? Why wouldn't I be? I know joining the Wardens is a long-shot."

Gorim shook his head. "Not about that. I meant about earlier. You looked upset after your victory against Lord Dace's son."

Aunn looked down. "Oh. That."

"Yes, that," Gorim said firmly. "You won, House Dace lost, and everyone will be talking about it for weeks. What's the problem?"

"No problem, really," she prevaricated. "I just…he looked so lost. I did that and it really wasn't anything pressing. I was just trying to be proactive."

"You can't change the past," Gorim told her. "And he did seek you out. Defending House Aeducan's honor in that Proving was a legitimate decision and probably the best one. You did nothing wrong."

"I know," Aunn agreed. "And I know I'll have to do that in the future as well. It was my first time, though, and all I could think was that it was a waste."

"Maybe now people will think twice about trying to pull one over on you," Gorim offered. "Then it would be worth something, right?"

"You're right," Aunn nodded. "And it's not like I'm anguished over my actions or anything, I just didn't expect to pity him. I'll get over it, I'm sure."

"As you say, my Lady," Gorim replied as they continued to Trian's room.

Trian's door was unlocked, for once, which was quite a surprise. She supposed that meant that he was in there and she wouldn't have to go searching the diamond quarter for him.

Sure enough, when Aunn pushed the door open she saw Bhelen pretending to look interested in whatever Trian was saying and Trian with his back to her, once again. Honestly, he was almost ridiculously unaware of his surroundings sometimes. Still, she might as well take advantage of this rare opportunity to have access to her brother's room. She spotted an open book on the table and moved closer to see what it was.

Oh look, Trian's journal. She really shouldn't but…well, she was curious. Maybe he'd written something about why he was determined to ruin all her fun lately. She skimmed the page that was already open. He was impressed at Gorim's dedication – but still felt the need to yell at him if he spoke without being addressed – he'd been annoyed Bhelen had instructed the messenger attempting to deliver her new dagger to go directly to him in order to get it to her, he'd run into the redheaded girl from Bhelen's room and hadn't known what to say either (and thank the ancestors because the day she was at a loss for words and Trian wasn't was the day that she officially failed), he'd made a not to send his girlfriend a present, and he wasn't happy about her Proving. It was interesting to note that even though he was certain that Jaylia would agree to marry him because he was the heir – and thinking on it maybe that's where his view that women tended to be 'useless breeding flesh' came from: every mildly ambitious noblewoman throwing themselves at him – it never hurt to be polite. No, it never did. As it happened, that was one of her guiding principles as well. She did kind of have to wonder, however, where exactly that belief of his went whenever she was nearby.

She could probably find out more if she'd look on other pages but she'd hate to be caught snooping and hand Trian yet another reason to yell at her and she couldn't reasonably expect him to remain ignorant of her presence forever, especially with the way Bhelen kept looking over at her.

"Greetings," Aunn announced loudly once she was safely away from the desk.

Trian turned around to face her. "So you're a commander now, in name at least," he said dubiously. Could he really make it any more obvious that he thought she was going to get everyone serving under her killed? Probably not without outright spelling it out which he'd refrain from until she angered him enough. "What…wait. What's that you're wearing? That dagger?"

Beaming, Aunn pulled out the dagger in question. "Do you like it? It's pretty."

"I told that man not to presume to bribe House Aeducan. If your favor is bought so cheaply, it is your own shame," Trian said disapprovingly. "You should be attending our father at today's feast, not gossiping with second-rate smiths!"

"Bribe?" Aunn repeated. "I don't actually remember who gave this to me nor am I particularly inclined to look. As such, he won't really be getting anything out of me except a tacit endorsement whenever I use this which will help his business. And frankly, given how pretty and shiny the dagger is…I'm good with that."

Trian sighed heavily. "Will you at least pretend to take your responsibilities seriously, Aunn?"

"I wasn't aware that having a slight dagger fetish automatically meant that I wasn't taking my responsibilities seriously," Aunn said, carefully keeping her voice neutral. She was not going to get into an argument with Trian today, she was not going to get into an argument with Trian today…Maybe if she kept telling herself she'd be able to keep to that?

"I'd imagine that there is a great deal that you're not aware of," her older brother muttered darkly. "Now why are you here?"

"I'll get to that in a minute," Aunn said vaguely before turning to her other brother who had been silent during their exchange. "So how was your day, Bhelen?" Sure she shouldn't bait Trian but…well she was going to anyway.

"Interesting," Bhelen said cautiously, no doubt remembering how much trouble he'd almost gotten in earlier when he'd made the mistake of implying he wasn't having the time of his life trailing after Trian all day like a nug. He likely also didn't appreciate her efforts to, once again, drag him into whatever conflict she and Trian were having. "I would have been at the feast but Trian had need of me."

"The world does not stop and start with your meager achievements," Trian spoke up. "Not even tonight."

"You could have at least made a token appearance," Aunn countered. "I mean, the feast has been going on for hours and surely talking to Bhelen could have waited twenty minutes."

"It could have," Trian agreed easily. "Now, do you have some purpose in bothering us?"

"I do," Aunn confirmed.

Trian waited. "And that purpose is?" he prompted once it was clear she had no intention of continuing on her own.

"Father wants to see you," Aunn answered, figuring she'd annoyed him enough for one evening.

"Of course he does," Trian said smugly. "We must discuss strategy for tomorrow's battle."

"If you knew he was going to need to see you at some point tonight then why in the world didn't you just go to the
damn feast?" Aunn couldn't help but ask. "You could have done it then or at least made plans to meet up later."

"Bhelen, stay here and stroke the new commander's conceit if you like, but then get to bed," Trian ordered, completely ignoring her. And could he honestly make her new title sound any more like an insult?

The minute Trian was gone, Aunn cracked up.

"What is it, my Lady?" Gorim asked her.

"He sent Bhelen to bed like was five or something," Aunn explained through her laughter.

Bhelen looked on, not nearly as amused. Then again, that really was par for the course for how Trian usually treated him and they did spend a great deal of time together so he had probably long since past the point of being entertained by such things. Aunn, being largely avoided by Trian, still found it hilarious. "I honestly don't know how you put up with him," he said wearily.

Aunn shrugged. Seriously, she was the one Trian spent all his time avoiding or insulting so why were people keep coming up to her and being in awe of her ability to deal with it? "He's not that bad," she claimed. And he really wasn't. She enjoyed seeing just how far she could push him before he started to get really irritated instead of just his usual 'why is Aunn here?' levels she faced and it wasn't like he didn't have a damn good reason for it anyway.

"There was a time I would have agreed with you, but I've recently had to rethink my views on our brother," Bhelen said, sounding tired and disappointed.

"Oh?" Aunn asked politely. She couldn't believe that they were about to have this conversation in Trian's room. Granted, his meeting with their father was liable to take awhile but still…this was hardly a safe place. The palace had spies everywhere. "You sound serious, Bhelen."

"Unfortunately, I am," Bhelen confirmed solemnly. "I never thought his much-proclaimed honor would allow him to actually act on his jealousy."

"And I never thought we were actually ever going to talk about that," Aunn replied. Yes, everyone knew that a large portion of Trian's antagonism towards her was the fact that for some reason people naturally gravitated towards her (and it couldn't just be that she was polite) and most of the rest of it was due to her insistence on treating her brother like an equal instead of a superior like most everyone else did.

"There's little point in keeping such important things an open secret," Bhelen declared. "Especially when it means that…"

"Means what?" Aunn asked, having enough experience with dramatically trailing off herself not to recognize a clear signal for her to prompt him.

"Big sister, Trian is going to try to kill you," Bhelen whispered conspiratorially, his eyes darting nervously around the room.

"That seems a little far-fetched," Aunn claimed. As it happened, it didn't, not really. While Trian might like to pretend that he wasn't constantly concerned about her rising popularity, it didn't fool her. Trian might believe that he could take the throne despite how much people loved her but it would be a lot more certain if she weren't in the picture. Still, no need to tip her hand just yet.

"I wouldn't have believed it myself if I hadn't heard Trian giving the orders to his men," Bhelen claimed, sounding shocked and saddened. "Trian's decided you're a threat to his taking the throne. Maybe he's right." Her younger brother didn't sound against the idea. So, what? He warned her of a possible conspiracy so she'd watch her back? She didn't really let her guard down anyway. What exactly did he anticipate her doing with this information?

"How am I a threat to Trian?" Aunn asked innocently. There was, of course, every chance that Bhelen intended to take the information he got here back to Trian. There was no way she'd believe that he came up with the plan himself but if Bhelen had suggested it or hadn't discussed it with Trian that would make more sense. Bhelen had always been the smart one in the family; it was how he'd managed to stay out of trouble all these years. It was better to feign ignorance just to be safe and to try to see where he was going with this without actually having to come right out and ask.

"He fears what you are becoming, in the eyes of the people and the Assembly," Bhelen explained patiently, though sounding a bit like he thought she should already know this. As it happened, she did already know this. "Trian's the named prince, but only the Assembly can proclaim a king. It would be unusual for the Assembly to ignore the king's choice, but it does happen." And the reason for the history lesson was…? Was he trying to talk her into trying for the throne? She hadn't really had to do much more than making her usual efforts in order to become a serious contender for the throne. What else did he expect from her? Surely he wasn't suggesting…no, she'd just wait to see what he had to say.

"The founder of House Bemot became a Paragon and king in one move from the Assembly, and he was a commoner," Gorim spoke up, reminding them that he was still there. He had? That sounded like quite a story. She'd need to ask Gorim or else actually look it up herself at some point when she wasn't being told that Trian was fratricidal.

Trian would have yelled at Gorim for getting involved but Bhelen had always been a lot less caste-conscious, which might have been why Gorim decided to get involved in the discussion in the first place. "That was an extraordinary case," Bhelen cautioned. "But at least a half-dozen times, the Assembly named a lesser family member – or even someone from another house – as king. Usually it was the popular younger brother of an undesirable heir. You may not have the 'brother' part down but your popularity only continues to grow and twice it was a woman."

"So Trian thinks the Assembly would prefer me?" Aunn asked, making sure to sound slightly confused and taken aback. She could absolutely not risk Bhelen tricking her into saying something incriminating and then running off to their father or Trian himself.

"Well, try to look at it from his perspective. You are far more personable then he's ever been," Bhelen pointed out. "If nothing else, I highly doubt you would lecture a legless boy about the values of hard work and how if he just made an effort he'd be able to make something of himself."

"I probably couldn't keep a straight face," Aunn conceded. "That was good for a laugh, though. I wish I'd seen it…although ancestor's know I couldn't keep quiet. I honestly don't know how you manage that."

It was Bhelen's turn to shrug. "I've had plenty of practice over the years. It's easy to fade into the background when your two older siblings are always the center of attention, Trian more so because he's the heir while your accomplishments keep racking up. Take today, for instance. Not only did you enter – and win, naturally – your own Proving just for glory and to please the crowd but later you slaughtered the heir to House Dace, one of the most powerful Houses in Orzammar, because his father dared to challenged House Aeducan's honor. If you win glory against the darkspawn tomorrow, it will only strengthen the case for you as the next heir. With your skills as a fighter and father's clear preference for you, it's practically inevitable that you will be sent off to do exactly that. Trian fears Father will replace him on the spot. If not, the Assembly will surely turn against him when Father dies and you know that his pride will never allow him to step aside. Being the heir…that's all he's ever been. It defines him and he wouldn't be able to handle losing that."

And now was really not the time for her to be feeling a pang of sympathy towards her older brother. What Bhelen said was true enough, though. She had gained a lot of glory today and her guilt at Mandar's death was already beginning to fade. She had been a little alarmed that Lord Dace had been so upfront about his belief that Trian would not take the throne as to use it as an implied threat about how things would be after her father died. While Aunn normally abhorred the directness Bhelen seemed to prefer, she could admit that sometimes it had its uses.

"What's your angle in this, Bhelen?" Aunn demanded. Who knew, she might even get an honest answer. She rather doubted it, but it never hurt to try. Well, rarely at any rate.

Bhelen seemed to be considering his words carefully and with good reason. It was obvious that his words could incite her to commit fratricide and thus his motivation for doing so had better be damn good. "It seems Trian has shown that brothers can't always be trusted. I am next in line. If Trian succeeds in his plot against you, how long do you think I'll live?"

That sounded reasonable. Coming from anyone else about anyone else it probably would have been. These weren't just any two people involved, though. This was Trian seeing Bhelen as a threat. From what she'd seen today alone Trian acted like Bhelen was a child or some sort of pet. Subtlety had never been Trian's strong suit so Aunn had no doubt that if he considered Bhelen a threat he would treat him a lot more like he treated her. Bhelen had to know this; they spent far more time together than she spent around either of them, after all.

"What should I do?" she asked simply, hoping for more information.

"You're the elder," Bhelen replied, deftly avoiding the question. "I'll follow your lead, as always." It was clear by now, of course, that he was trying to talk her into killing Trian and that was rather unsettling. If he wanted their brother dead so badly then why didn't he do it himself? Why try to enlist her aid? That was dangerous and most likely more trouble than it was worth.

Trian was also Bhelen's elder and hers as well but that didn't seem to be helping him any, now was it? "Well, that was helpful. What about you, Gorim? Do you have a more, shall we say, opinionated answer?"

Gorim hesitated. Aunn didn't blame him; it wasn't an easy question. If he said to do nothing then it looked like he was advocating her death and she might suspect him of being in Trian's pocket – not that she would of course because if she couldn't trust Gorim then who could she trust? – but if he said that Trian needed to be killed then that was treason. And suggesting just waiting and seeing was such a neural option that it wouldn't qualify as what she'd ask and probably just annoy her more. "Permission to speak freely?" he asked finally, a trace of nervousness in his voice. Oh, this would be interesting.

Gorim had had permission to speak freely from practically the moment she realized he had enough sense to be careful what he said in public. For him to feel the need to ask now…well, she could guess what his answer was. "Of course, my friend," Aunn assured him.

"Trian would be a terrible king, but no one wants to say it," Gorim said quickly, sounding as if he'd been wanting to get that off his chest for awhile but not wanting to bring it up with Aunn as she chronically defended her brother – not that he ever appreciated it or possibly even noticed. "He has just enough backing in the Assembly to make it ugly when your father dies, but not enough to become king. Killing him now makes your house stronger now and saves a great deal of bloodshed later."

Kill one now to save a lot more bloodshed later. That was the logic behind honor Provings, wasn't it? It was certainly the logic she'd used earlier in the evening when she'd been trying to rationalize her killing of Mandar Dace. It might even be true but just the same…by the ancestors, was it too much that she wanted to avoid becoming a Kinslayer if it could be avoided? Completely ignoring the fact that Trian was her brother and she loved him – because, after all, everyone else up to and including Trian seemed to – Kinslaying was one of the most serious offenses in Orzammar and slaying your kin that just happened to be their heir to the throne? She might as well just slit her own throat now.

That was, of course, assuming that she'd be caught. Bhelen's presence was a huge security risk, even if he'd been the one to bring up the alleged threat. And what was he hoping to gain? Clearly his 'oh, I'm in danger!' bit was a lie much like Lord Dace's 'oh, my wife's cousin!' act was earlier. If Bhelen was telling the truth, a possibility that she had to consider, then if he did nothing then either she'd get herself killed or Trian would. Aunn knew that Bhelen liked her better than Trian if only because she didn't insist on patronizing him so if he figured he was going to lose one sibling he might rather it be Trian but why not tell her that? And given the fact that she'd been able to take Trian since she was sixteen, unless it was a ridiculously huge ambush she'd be fine so why get involved? Did he want her gratitude once Trian was dead and her to believe that he hadn't been involved?

There was the possibility, of course, that he was waiting for her to agree to preemptively strike at Trian and then he'd go running back to their brother with news of her 'treachery' and persuade him to preemptively strike at her…or maybe he already had? Could that be the source of Trian's elevated hostility lately? Aunn refused to believe that Bhelen was more eager to see Trian on the throne than her and he was the most progressive of the three so it couldn't be the fact that tradition dictated Trian take the throne.

As Bhelen himself had pointed out, he was next in line for the throne after his two older siblings. Did he want the throne? That was a stupid question, of course he did. He was a prince, after all, and he didn't share her split interest between Orzammar and the Grey Wardens. The question was, how badly did he want it? Enough to fan the flames of hostility between his older siblings? What did he hope to gain? She and Trian would attack each other and, ideally, kill each other off? That both of them would die was highly unlikely so it couldn't be counted on. Did he want the two of them to attack each other, one to die, and the other to be imprisoned for fratricide? She had no doubt that Trian could be incited to attack her – he might not even need the extra provocation at this point – but what if she refused to act? She refused to believe that Bhelen would approach her with such a risky proposition without a backup plan for if she (or he, she supposed) said no. If one of them said no and the other agreed then there was always a chance, however small, that the aggressive party could be talked down and the situation resolved peacefully and that was too risky as well.

What to do, what to do…

"It's not that I don't trust you, Bhelen," Aunn lied. And it really wasn't anything personal and he could very well be telling her the literal truth out of nothing but concern for her wellbeing for all she knew. She only trusted two people implicitly: her father and Gorim and only because those were the only two people that she knew had no motivation to screw her over and quite a bit to work to prevent that from happening. "But I can't very well commit fratricide over a rumor. I'll watch Trian, though, and see what he does. He won't take me by surprise."

"Very well, I'll respect your decision," Bhelen said, sounding resigned. Resigned to what, she wondered? Plan B? "Please, be careful. I wouldn't want to lose my dearest sister."

"I'm your only sister," Aunn reminded him with a wry smile. "So technically I'm Trian's dearest sister as well. I am glad for your concern, Bhelen. Thank you."

"You're welcoming," Bhelen said warmly. "I'm taking your place as Father's second, so I'll be at hand tomorrow. For now, try to get some sleep."

"May the Paragons smile down on us," Gorim said comfortingly.

Aunn smiled at him as she watched her brother leave. She really would need to keep a closer eye on him, wouldn't she? Still, she didn't have time for anything more than just keeping an eye out for Trian ambushing her tomorrow. After tomorrow, though…well, they'd have to get through the day first, wouldn't they?

[Sarah1281]

Chapter Three: Orzammar Justice At Its Finest

The next morning Aunn wasn't feeling any better about the whole situation when she showed up at entrance to the Deep Roads shortly before the expedition was scheduled to start. Gorim tried to cheer her up but all she really wanted to do was get this expedition out of the way so she could start focusing more on whatever Bhelen was planning. There was every chance it wouldn't end up hurting her but better safe than sorry and she'd rather be well-informed. And to think that until yesterday she'd been excited about her first commission…

Harrowmont started things off. "Trian and his men will clear the way for the Grey Wardens to descend into the eastern-most caverns. Those caverns are still infested by the worst of the darkspawn. We cannot risk our own troops in there."

Duncan stepped forward, nodding his acceptance. "Understood, Lord Harrowmont. We should be able to sense the darkspawn and avoid them once the way is open." Wait, wait, wait…now Grey Wardens could sense darkspawn? Why wasn't she one again?

Her father stepped forward and bowed. "May the Paragons favor you and the stone catch you if you fall." Oh, right, her father didn't want her running off to the surface. Seriously, what was the worst that could happen?

Trian, who had been unusually quiet and had refused to so much as glance in her direction all morning, rallied suddenly. "Come men, glory awaits!" he shouted as he led his troops out into the darkness of the Deep Roads. As Trian would typically have all sorts of fun things to say to her, his silence was disturbing. Had Bhelen said something to him? Just because she had said that she'd kill him if she had to didn't mean Bhelen hadn't reported something entirely different or maybe even the idea that if she came under attack she would kill him was what bothered him. Who knew? With any luck, she'd be able to try and sort this mess out – without Bhelen's oh-so-helpful mediating – once the expedition was over. She had wanted to confront him the night before but by the time he'd gotten out of his meeting with their father she had fallen asleep and this morning, in addition to his avoiding her, Bhelen never left his side (though he had managed to let her know that he and Trian had witnessed her victory at her Proving yesterday so that might have had something to do with it). Well, the rest of the day was likely to be extremely busy as well but there was always tomorrow.

"Bhelen, you and your men will second the King clearing the main road," Harrowmont instructed, mostly for formality's sake. Bhelen clearly already knew this or he wouldn't have been able to inform her of that the night before.

"Don't you think it looks a little…cowardly to allow these humans to take our place where the fighting is thickest?" Bhelen asked challengingly though still managing to sound vaguely polite. That caught Aunn's attention. Since when did Bhelen draw attention to himself by being argumentative?

Harrowmont was clearly surprised as well. "Are you questioning the battle plan?" he demanded. Honestly, if he were going to do that then after Trian's men and the Grey Wardens had left was really not the best time.

Bhelen shook his head quickly if exaggeratedly. "Of course not! I'm sure your caution is for the glory of us all." Seriously, what was up with Bhelen today? Now sarcasm? Either Trian had been making up for his lack of remarks to her by putting Bhelen through twice as much as usual or something was really off.

"ENOUGH, Bhelen," her father commanded sharply. "Take you men and make ready. Harrowmont and I need to have words with your sister."

As Aunn moved closer to hear what her father and Harrowmont had to say, she caught the baleful glare Bhelen shot Harrowmont as he turned and, by the stone, she almost shuddered. Since when did Bhelen hate Harrowmont? Sure he was perhaps a little overly traditional as opposed to Bhelen's more progressive views, but there were lots of traditional nobles, especially the older ones. Their father, for instance, was quite traditional himself or he wouldn't have elevated Harrowmont to his current position. "Good luck, my sister," Bhelen managed to sound remarkably civil given how angered he looked.

Aunn nodded. "You too," she returned perfunctorily, watching him leave out of the corner of her eye. In a way, it was a relief to see him finally showing his darker side. Bhelen had been a fairly normal – if talented – child but around ten years ago or so he had just suddenly…slowed down. He had gradually gone from promising if often overlooked third child to the helpful if slightly stupid Bhelen everyone knew today. She could see the way he looked at them when he thought no one was watching, though. He looked calculating. That and the fact that the very nature of Orzammar politics demanded that one either be ruthless or one be taken out of the way (voluntarily, though disgrace, or through death). As a prince, Bhelen didn't have the option of gracefully stepping aside and yet he had never had a scandal to his name. The only really notable thing about him seemed to be his skill at staying out of trouble. Maybe no one else thought that was strange but she did. If Bhelen was allowing the mask to slip now then he either really hated Harrowmont or he thought he didn't need it anymore, which was a somewhat chilling thought. What was he planning and when would he act? When this expedition was over, she wasn't turning her back on Bhelen for a second.

Once it was just the four of them – Harrowmont, her father, Gorim, and herself – Harrowmont smiled at her. "Your father has a special mission for you."

"In the eastern deep roads there is a secret door carved into the stone," her father began. Oh, that sounded promising. She was going to go look for this secret door then?

"The door leads to a Thaig abandoned long ago by your ancestors," Harrowmont elaborated. "The darkspawn have made it impossible to reach." So…it was impossible for a full expedition to reach it but she and Gorim were somehow expected to do it? Granted, she was one of the best fighters in Orzammar and Gorim was the best second imaginable but that plan kind of failed any and all logic tests.

"My father believed that the shield of the Paragon Aeducan remains in that Thaig, under the stones of the central room," her father revealed. "Reclaim the shield and glory will be yours." Well, that didn't make the plan any more practical but at least there was her reason. If more people went she might need to share the glory. Trian's first command had been just a basic expedition and her father intended for her to find the legendary shield of Aeducan on hers? If this theory was his father's then he had to have known about it for years as Trian had barely been born by the time her Grandfather Ansgar had returned to the stone. Her father really made no effort to hide how much better he liked her than her brothers, did he? Yet another reason for Trian to hate her, or at least act like he did.

Aunn really liked the sound of reclaiming the shield of Aeducan but was still a little focused on the part about the darkspawn making it impossible. "I'm supposed to go in there alone?" she asked uncertainly.

Harrowmont shook his head. "As always, Gorim will accompany you and we've sent scouts ahead. One of the scouts will meet you at the first crossroads you come to. The second will be further in. When you get to the door, use your signet ring to open it. Questions?" Of course Gorim would be with her and she apparently had two scouts accompanying her as well? Two wasn't a lot and warriors were usually assigned as scouts for their stealth and speed without much regard to their combat prowess. Still, it was better than going in with just Gorim, she supposed, and it wouldn't do to argue with the battle plan this late in the game. She would have appreciated being briefed beforehand, though. She wondered vaguely if Trian knew what her role in today's expedition was – which he surely would object to out of fear for her glory and not her safety, most likely – and if not what he thought she was doing.

"No, I think I've got it," Aunn said rather than voicing any of her doubt. Bhelen had already gotten yelled at for doing just that although to be fair he was being almost certainly deliberately more confrontational then she would ever dream of being in front of their father.

"Very good," Harrowmont said, sounding pleased. "The crossroads where you'll meet the first scout will be the rendezvous point. There you can present the shield to the lords and demonstrate the strength of Aeducan."

Her father looked like he wanted to say something else but apparently decided against it. Giving her an unreadable look, he said simply, "May the Ancestors watch over you, my child."

For some reason, that felt like a good-bye. As Aunn watched her father and Lord Harrowmont join the rest of the expedition, she wondered if he were feeling the same uneasiness and vague sense of doom that she was. She wasn't quite sure why she was feeling that way as she was always confident in her fighting abilities but then again emotions were never rational.

"Are you ready to go, my Lady?" Gorim asked her respectfully.

Aunn blinked. "What? Oh, yes. Let's go." As they started off into the Deep Roads, she asked, "So what do you think about our secret mission?"

" 'Secret mission'?" Gorim repeated, amused. "You make it sound like we have something to hide."

"Don't we?" Aunn asked rhetorically. "Father and Harrowmont didn't reveal what we were doing until everyone else, even Bhelen, had left. This is kind of a long-shot so if we don't succeed then we can say that at least we did our part fighting darkspawn. If we do…well, it will look a lot more impressive if the find comes out of nowhere, won't it?"

"That is true," Gorim agreed. "The shield of Aeducan would be quite a find, indeed. It's been lost since the Thaig fell and if you found it with so little men...you can certainly understand why Trian's paranoid. It's almost like your father sees the way the stone is rolling and is trying to strengthen your cause. On the other hand, Bhelen might be right and if Trian managed to find the shield first or attack you he could make up a lot of lost ground in the Assembly."

"It's not like I don't think Trian's out to get me," Aunn confessed. "I just don't trust Bhelen's motivations for getting involved when the safe Bhelen-ish thing to do would be to just watch us destroy each other. We should keep an eye out regardless."

"Of course, my Lady," Gorim nodded. "And what about you? Are you excited at the prospect of finding the shield?"

"How could I not be?" Aunn laughed. "The founder of my House has always been my favorite Paragon and not just because of that. Any sufficiently positive contribution to society can lead to becoming a Paragon and while that could be something epic like Caridin's golems, Astyth the Grey's promotion of female warriors – if only her Silent Sisters would stop stabbing themselves in the foot on that front – or Branka's smokeless coal, it could also be something…less epic. The 'especially dedicated' servants and Seuss' rhyming abilities, for instance, just aren't quite in the same league as the golems."

"And the Paragon Aeducan falls in the 'epic' category?" Gorim hazarded a guess.

"He saves us all from the darkspawn during the First Blight," Aunn pointed out. "And he completely ignored the Assembly's bickering over which Thaig to save and appealed directly to the other castes to mount Orzammar's defense. If it weren't for him, we'd all be dead. That is, by my estimation, the most epic thing that any dwarf has ever done."

"Then it's a good thing you're an Aeducan or you would probably annoy your House with that sentiment," Gorim teased.

"If I weren't an Aeducan…" Aunn trailed off, shaking her head in bemusement. "I can't even imagine."

Gorim opened his mouth to reply when they encountered their first darkspawn of the day. Aunn had fought darkspawn before and so while the sight of them no longer bothered her, she absolutely could not get over the smell. Since the darkspawn regularly roamed the Deep Roads even this close to Orzammar, the foul stench was everywhere but nowhere as pungent as when the darkspawn were directly in front of them.

"Let's hurry and try to find the first scout," Aunn ordered as soon as the last darkspawn had fallen. "They won't be any good to us dead."

One minor skirmish later, they reached the crossroads that would serve as the meeting point if the presence of a vaguely familiar-looking man was any indication.

"You made it, commander," the man said in that slow, suspicious way she realized could only make him Frandlin Ivo, the fighter she'd sent the ceremonial helm to the day before. Yes, now that she thought about it he was her final opponent in the non-lethal Proving she'd fought yesterday. He sounded a little surprised, which was rather insulting since she had beaten him so soundly the day before and, unlike him, wasn't alone. "Did you run afoul of any darkspawn?"

"I ran into two groups of them but, as you can see, it was nothing I couldn't handle," Aunn replied. "You fought well yesterday. I trust you'll prove similarly competent in today's expedition?"

Ivo bowed his head. "Ancestors willing."

With that, they set off again. They met another group of darkspawn which was nearly as easy to dispatch as the first one – nearly because this group contained a darkspawn shooting energy at them which, as dwarves, they were resistant to but those attacks were still more long-ranged than the daggers the other darkspawn used though having Ivo in their group was a big help. The problem with the Deep Roads was the lack of landmarks but Aunn guessed they must be going in the right direction as they soon met another scout. Well, either that or he was just as lost as they were. Surely if she was lost, though, Gorim would have said something? It would have to be subtle so as not to embarrass her in front of her fellow noble but he knew just how navigationally challenged she was.

"You're here. I thought the darkspawn had got you for sure," the scout gasped, not even making a cursory attempt to hide his surprise. If she hadn't needed him so she wouldn't be braving an uncharted section of the Deep Roads with only two other people, she would have had to have killed him for that remark. While Gorim would never think less of her for allowing an insult like that to stand, the fact of the matter was that Ivo – insignificant House or not – was still a noble and she could not afford to set such a precedent. "We want the tunnel ahead but there are darkspawn tracks all over it," he continued, blithely unaware of her inner debate about whether to end his life. For now, it was too risky. Until the expedition was over, or at least until she found the shield and could just retrace her steps and thus be unlikely to encounter many living darkspawn, she would let it go. After that, of course, she made no promises.

The group of four continued in silence for a few minutes. They weren't encountering any new opponents and so Aunn was beginning to get a little bored. She wished she could talk to Gorim but unless she wanted him to just agree to whatever she said, she didn't have that luxury as they were in the presence of witnesses.

Aunn got her confirmation that they were, in fact, not lost when they stumbled upon the stone door her father had mentioned. Not being lost was always a good thing although the fact that the door was just hanging open was a little worrying. This was supposed to be a secret door, after all, and abandoned long ago. Unless the door had been left open when the Thaig was abandoned – and while it was a little strange to think about people in a hurry bothering to shut the doors they'd never see again behind them – which meant that maybe the darkspawn had someone found a way in then something was wrong. If that was the case the shield might not even still be there-no, she had to have faith in her ancestor's security as it would be one thing if her grandfather was simply wrong about the shield's location but quite another if the darkspawn had taken the shield of Aeducan too.

"Looks like someone beat us to the door," Gorim remarked, echoing her fears.

The scout moved forward and crouched down next to what appeared to be the corpse of a darkspawn. "This darkspawn body is still fresh," he announced. As it had yet to begin to decompose and smell even worse, that much was a given but perhaps he meant that there was blood or something to indicate that the battle was even more recent than that. "Whoever opened the door is most likely still in there."

That was troubling, to say the least. Aunn bit her lip. "They had to have had an Aeducan signet ring to get in there…" she announced. This just smacked of a conspiracy. Could Bhelen have been telling the truth about Trian's plot after all? Or perhaps he was the one pulling something and wanted her to think it was Trian? Signet rings, particularly the royal Aeducan signet ring, weren't exactly easy to get a hold of. Not even all of the members of a noble House got their own signet ring, only the most important members. Needless to say, Bhelen and Trian each had their own and if she didn't believe there was some sort of brotherly plotting going on before she most certainly did now.

Still, there was nothing to be gained by just standing there. This was probably a trap but she did still need to get the shield and so she'd just have to spring it and kill whoever was arrogant enough to think they could take on the princess and live.

As she boldly strode forth, she spotted several mercenaries bearing the mark of the casteless. One of them, presumably their leader, stepped forward to greet her. "So glad you could finally join us. We feared you'd gotten eaten by darkspawn." Okay, seriously, what was it with everyone thinking she was that easy to kill? When this was over she was going to kidnap Piotin and drag him to the Proving ground if she had to in order to make it clear just how helpless she wasn't. "Turns out the shield isn't quite as easy to retrieve as I was led to believe. I wager you know where it is, though. So how about you tell me where it is and I don't mutilate your body so bad your father doesn't recognize you?" Oh, he actually thought he had a chance of beating her? Cute. And what did he mean by 'as I was led to believe'? Bhelen or Trian wanted to steal the shield out from right under her? That would probably mean Trian as if Bhelen pulled something like that no one would ever underestimate him again and as long as he had two older siblings standing between him and the throne that would not end well for him. Still, if Trian did hire the mercenaries – which she was still having a hard time believing as that meant he would have had to actually talk to the casteless or at least make his second do it – then at least the default plan wasn't to kill her, even if the mercenary leader wasn't opposed to it.

And did he really think that if she had any idea of how to access the shield, which she obviously didn't or else whoever told the mercenaries about the shield would have known as well, that she would just tell them like that? Please. "The shield is a metaphor," Aunn deadpanned. "It's in all of us." She paused. "Well, maybe not in you because you're casteless, but it's inside of everyone who actually has ancestors."

"You…you expect us to believe that you came all this way to hunt down a metaphor?" the mercenary demanded incredulously.

Aunn shook her head. "No, I came all this way to kill darkspawn and, by doing that, to find my own 'shield of Aeducan'. It's a family tradition, you know. Trian did it two years ago and two years from now Bhelen will."

"I…" the mercenary trailed off, looking confused. "I don't know whether that's true or not but I don't like that answer so I'm going to just going to ignore that possibility for now. Just kill them, boys. We'll find this shield on our own."

With that, the mercenaries attacked. They were a bit more challenging than the darkspawn had been, if only because there were more of them, they were better organized, and they were more intelligent. Well, actually that last part was rather debatable because at least the darkspawn hadn't known who she was when attacking and these common bandits honestly thought they could get away with killing her.

Once they were all good and dead, Aunn went straight for the leader's body. Robbing corpses, while useful if she were ever in dire need of money, was hardly befitting of someone from her station when there were witnesses around. That wasn't what she was after, though (and really, how much money or valuables could a casteless have, anyway?), as she dug through his pockets. Finding what she was looking for, she stood triumphantly.

Gorim peered at the small object in her hand and then drew back in surprise. "Is that an Aeducan signet ring? I guess that's how they got in here."

"It gets better," Aunn said grimly. "This is Trian's ring. It still has that mark on it from that one time Bhelen and I…" she trailed off, remembering, once again, that she and Gorim were hardly alone. Ah, well. She'd tell him that story later. If Trian ever found out what happened…well, there was a good chance he'd kill them both. They'd probably deserve it, too, but it would have been so worth it. "Well, suffice to say this is Trian's ring?"

"Your brother Trian?" the scout asked nosily. "Do you think this means he was behind the mercenary attack?"

"I would thank you not to go flinging about such rash accusations at my brother," Aunn said frostily. Yes, there was a good chance that either he had done it or Bhelen had but that didn't mean that this scout had any business voicing that. How Bhelen had gotten the ring was a bit of a mystery so it was more likely that this was Trian's doing but she wouldn't rule out her younger brother's involvement just yet. She needed more information.

The scout shrugged, unrepentant. "I don't see the point in living in denial. If you need a signet ring to get in there and you found your brother's signet ring in their possession then that means he had to have given it to them. Unless you think he lost it and never mentioned it?"

"I think we should refrain from voicing wild conspiracy theories and focus on the task at hand," Aunn replied, her irritation at the scout only growing. Who did he think he was, anyway? If he realized she had no idea who he was that might make him bolder but it wouldn't save him if she decided to just outright kill him. With that, she continued into the central room.

Gorim looked around. "This is the room. How do we get the shield?"

"My father said that it should be under the stone and I'm guessing that that would put it under the sarcophagus in the middle. As to how we get it…" Aunn moved closer to inspect the stones. "Three of the stones are a different color than the rest of them. I suggest the first thing we try is putting weight on them so you three each go stand on one of them."

Silently, Ivo, Gorim, and the scout obeyed her. Immediately, the stone sarcophagus shifted. The casteless mercenaries couldn't figure this out, huh? That was a little pathetic. Aunn approached it to see a somewhat-worn shield with the clear insignia of House Aeducan right in the middle. Reverently, she lifted it. This…this was history. This was the shield used by the Paragon Aeducan to drive back the darkspawn and save them all. Feeling a little overwhelmed, she returned to the others.

"That's it!" Gorim cheered. "We've got it."

"Doesn't look like much," the scout said bluntly, dismissively. Aunn's eye twitched. It was one thing to be insolent with her, she may be a princess but she was also an untested commander. But to disrespect the shield of the man who had stopped the darkspawn from breaching the very gates of Orzammar itself?

"The skill of our crafters has come far since then," Ivo said diplomatically. That was better – and true – but then he had to ruin it by frowning and continuing dubiously, "But still, the shield of Aeducan…"

"This shield is a symbol," Aunn tried to explain. She doubted she would be able to effectively communicate her awe but she could at least make an effort to explain where she was coming from. "It carries all the strength of the Paragon Aeducan."

"It's just a shield," the scout said derisively, looking at her as if she were crazy. Alright, that was it. She knew she should probably wait until she was out of the Deep Roads but chances were she wouldn't encounter any more darkspawn if she retraced her steps and she just couldn't put up with any more of this. The fact she had tolerated so much was, quite frankly, astounding. She pulled out a dagger and, when the scout wasn't looking, threw it at his head.

Gorim looked over as the scout choked and fell over. "The murder-knife strikes again, it seems," he remarked casually, sounding vaguely approving.

Ivo turned to face her with wide eyes. "This kind of thing happens often?" he asked warily, no doubt wondering if he'd be next.

"It's a menace," Aunn told him regretfully. "Now, shall we get back?"

Without further ado, Aunn stepped over the body and began the long trek back towards the rendezvous point, Gorim and Ivo trailing along behind her.

As expected, they encountered no further resistance and, when they were nearly at their destination, Gorim moved closer to her and whispered, "If Trian were really scheming against us, this would be the perfect place for an ambush. We've got the shield and we're all alone out here."

"I agree," Aunn whispered back. "Anyone could ambush us out here, maybe even other mercenaries. Be on your guard." Well, she could be reasonably sure that Bhelen wouldn't be ambushing her as he needed to stay with their father as his second but that didn't mean he couldn't send men. Trian could send men, as well, or he might even show up personally.

As the three slowly and carefully made their way to the rendezvous point, Aunn spotted several prone figures. "What?" she asked surprised as she continued to make her way towards them. "Those weren't there when we passed by here a little while ago. I suppose it could be casualties of a battle but those don't look – or smell – like darkspawn corpses so it would have to be some of our…" she trailed off as she recognized one of the bodies.

"What is it, my lady?" Gorim asked her, looking concerned.

"Trian," she breathed. "Trian!" She took off running towards it and, once she had reached him and verified that it was indeed her older brother, she knelt down beside him and reached out to feel for a pulse. There was none to be found, however, and the body was rapidly cooling.

"Is that Prince Trian?" Gorim asked uncertainly as he moved to stand behind her.

"Bhelen," Aunn said simply.

"Bhelen? Your other brother?" Ivo asked sharply.

Aunn nodded. "I never dreamed he'd move this fast…I suppose that makes sense, though, why tell me until the last second so there's nothing I can do if I don't like his plan? And now Trian's dead."

Aunn and Trian hadn't really gotten along in years and sometimes it seemed as if they never had. It was easy to forget him introducing her to fighting, easy to forget he had never minded when she tagged along after him as a child, easy to forget how they had bonded over not liking the noisy new baby after Bhelen was born…all of that was so easily cast aside in the wake of the growing pressures of nobility and the question of succession. She had tried to remember it even if Trian no longer seemed to care but she knew she didn't always succeed. She wasn't quite sure how she had expected things to turn out, whether she had naively assumed that their problems would just resolve themselves once their father was dead and one of the three was on the throne but this…she knew in some ways she was safer with Trian dead and in some circumstances she might have been the one to kill him but she had never wanted to see her brother dead. Either of them.

If only Bhelen felt the same.

For of course it was Bhelen. She was having a little bit of difficulty concentrating when faced with the stark reality of Trian's death laid out in front of her, but she would have to be blind not to see what had happened. Bhelen had the perfect alibi: he was seconding the King and surrounded by high-ranking nobles. He had tried to convince her to kill Trian so he wouldn't have to risk framing her when simply tattling would be a much safer course. When she had refused, which he had to have known she might, he had put his back-up plan into motion.

If nothing else, this answered the question of where those mercenaries got Trian's ring from. They had evidently acted on Bhelen's orders to kill their brother and steal his ring. Then she had killed them and taken the ring back so there was no proof that the mercenaries were involved at all. She had witnesses, of course: the scout, Ivo, and Gorim. Everyone knew that Gorim would do anything for her. If she had killed Trian right in front of him, the warrior would deny it to his dying day. If he told them what had happened, it wouldn't matter although if he lied then it would just be another nail in her coffin. She had killed the scout for his continual disrespect but Bhelen couldn't just assume that she would as if he hadn't kept pressing she would have tolerated a great deal of it until they had returned. That would explain why he had felt so free to be insolent, however; he had known that Bhelen was planning something to get her out of the way. Clearly, the scout had been bribed.

And Ivo. The scout had only been a warrior so his word would never be enough to even bring the case before the Assembly. Ivo, though…Ivo would be enough. His House was pretty much a nonentity but it was still noble and Frandlin had won some glory in the Proving Arena from what she had been able to tell yesterday. People would believe him. If Bhelen was going to be bribing the scout it would only follow that Ivo would also be corrupted. As to the incentive…if Trian was dead and she were removed from consideration for one reason or another then Bhelen would be King. Her father was the most respected King in four generations so there was no way his heir would not be accepted. As King, Bhelen could raise the Ivos up so that they actually mattered again. Why wouldn't he be willing to destroy a girl he'd only met the day before for the opportunity to serve his House in such a way?

And of course the point was to get her out of the way. She hadn't been sure before but now that she had found Trian's body after Bhelen had promised he wasn't going to act alone just half a day earlier? It couldn't even be that he feared she'd warn Trian of his intentions as if he had been willing to do it himself, he wouldn't have told her unless he had wanted her involved in some way and he hadn't given her any opportunity to speak to Trian all morning.

And now it was too late. Trian was dead and who even knew what Bhelen was planning? Her only chance was to get out of there before the rest of the expedition caught her kneeling over the body but that wouldn't keep Ivo from testifying to that effect and, ancestors help her, she couldn't bring herself to move.

Trian was dead.

She was startled out of her musings but arrival of the rest of the expedition or, more specifically, the sound of Bhelen urging, "Hurry, Father! Before it's too…"

As Aunn looked up, she saw her father push Bhelen nearly off-balance in his haste to reach Trian. Once he had, he fell to his knees, looking shell-shocked.

"It would appear that Prince Bhelen was right," Lord Bemot exclaimed, sounding shocked and saddened. "If only we had arrived sooner…"

"Aunn…my daughter…tell me this isn't what it looks like," her father pleaded hollowly.

"This isn't what it looks like," Aunn said obligingly, feeling strangely empty herself. This was bad. She had never been in such a dire situation before but, by the stone, she couldn't manage to stay completely focused. Not with her brother dead on the ground before her and her father trying to keep it together as the world fell apart.

"I would like to believe that, I really would," her father told her sadly. "But as the matter stands we will have to ask an impartial witness."

"Gorim is too loyal to be trusted in this matter," Lord Meino pointed out.

"I am not certain what happened to the second scout but Frandlin Ivo is a man of good character," Harrowmont spoke up. "Surely he can explain what happened here."

"The scout…fell shortly after we found the shield," Ivo said delicately, nervously. That was more diplomatic than expected as news that she had basically killed him for irritating her, while hardly scandalous, would certainly not help her cause. Ivo licked his lips as his eyes flickered to Bhelen. "When we arrived, Prince Trian and his guards were still alive. Lady Aeducan approached him and they spoke for a bit although I was not close enough to hear their words. I did see them both draw their weapons, however and Lady Aeducan won that fight."

"You treacherous bastard!" Gorim shouted in anger and disbelief. She had known – really, she had – that Gorim would never turn against her so completely. Just the same, when everything was against her and she had no idea what was going to happen but knew that it wouldn't be good…it was nice to have that confirmation just the same. She just hoped he wouldn't have to pay the price for that loyalty.

"Silence, Gorim," her father ordered quietly. "Do you have anything else to say, my daughter?"

"I didn't kill Trian," Aunn insisted, just as softly. "But…I understand that under the circumstances my word won't be enough."

As she was taken into custody – just the thought of being dragged back to Orzammar in chains was enough to make her feel almost physically ill – she turned and met Bhelen's eyes. He might not have said much but by allowing the others to take on the roles of accusers it would just serve to help distance him from this tragedy. He just shrugged at her as if to say 'nothing personal.'

Of course it wasn't.




It was difficult to tell how long she had been in the jail cell, unarmed and dressed in nothing but rags. It felt like forever although she knew that it couldn't have been very long. She had been brought four meals, thus far, and she hadn't been overly hungry when the food had appeared so she estimated about two days.

It was hard to choke the food down for three reasons. One, this was very, very bad and she honestly didn't know what she was going to do or why the Assembly hadn't called for her yet. Surely they didn't have anything more pressing to deal with than the death of the crown prince and the arrest of the next-in-line for the throne? Of course, Bhelen had to be bribing members of the Assembly or this would all have been cleared up by now but what was taking so long? The longer it took the less likely she felt it was that they'd send for her at all. But that was ridiculous. Law dictated that she be given at least a sham of a trial and tradition demanded it as well. Then there was the matter of her immediate family, already fraught with tension, completely imploding in on itself. Trian was dead, Bhelen had arranged it so that she be blamed for it, and her father was just letting it happen. Then there was the third, shallower reason…the so-called 'food' was absolutely disgusting and she had honestly never attempted to eat anything of that poor quality before.

Well, what could she say? She as spoiled as far as the creature comforts were concerned but she was a princess – for now, at least, although who knew what the Assembly would decide? – so that was to be expected. She had never worn rags before and they were making her skin itch. Not to mention that she couldn't remember the last time she'd been unarmed. If Bhelen wanted to be really thorough he'd have 'disgruntled Trian fanatics' come in to kill her so she would be out of the way one way or another. On the other hand, he might have decided that both of his siblings dying off in less than half a week would be too suspicious. Either way, she didn't like feeling helpless.

The silence, oh how she hated the silence, was blessedly broken by the wooden voice of a guard. "You've got ten minutes, ser. Orders and all, you understand."

Aunn looked up to see, much to her surprise, Gorim walking towards her. The look on his face made it clear that she wouldn't want to hear whatever he had to say. "Of course," he said smoothly. "Leave us alone, would you please?"

"Yes ser," the guard said before retreating back down the hallway.

Aunn looked at him for a moment though, not knowing much of anything at the moment, she said nothing.

"I…I would have come sooner, had they allowed it," Gorim started things off hesitantly. Of course he would have. She really had no doubts about him. There was a pause before he continued. "How are you?"

"My brother is dead," Aunn replied finally. "My father is nowhere to be found and now Bhelen's setting his plans into motion and I know I'm not going to like what you have to say."

"No, you won't," Gorim agreed, sighing heavily and looking pained. "The Assembly isn't going to be calling for you, I'm afraid. Bhelen took Trian's place in the Assembly and introduced a motion to condemn you immediately. He must have been making deals for months if not years as a full half of the Assembly was ready to vote on a matter that goes completely against both tradition and justice. And…we've already been sentenced."

"I'd expected as much," Aunn said, feeling oddly calm now that she was at last finding out what was going on. She would apologize to him for getting him caught up in her little family drama but she knew he would only be insulted if she did. "How bad is it?"

"I am to be stripped of my knighthood and removed from my family's records," Gorim began, seeming not to want to reveal her own fate to her. She'd rather he just got on with it but that wouldn't make this any easier. "But…I am to be allowed to attempt some sort of life on the Surface." Knowing Gorim's distaste for Surfacers he might very well prefer whatever 'punishment' was in store for her.

"And me?" Aunn prompted when it seemed like Gorim couldn't bring himself to go on.

"Lord Harrowmont moved for a similar exile for you," Gorim prefaced his answer. "But Bhelen's supporters overwhelmed him. You are to be sealed into the Deep Roads to fight darkspawn until you die."

You are to be sealed into the Deep Roads to fight darkspawn until you die. 

 The words echoed in her ears. That was…that was pretty much the worst case scenario. The dwarva did not generally execute prisoners because it would be a waste when they could instead put them to use and give them a chance to earn some form of redemption by protecting Orzammar from the monsters that had plagued her since the fall of the rest of the Empire.

Aunn was so caught up in the sudden fear that overtook her that she almost missed Gorim's next words. "Lord Harrowmont will be here shortly to escort you out. He couldn't say this himself as Bhelen's spies will no doubt be watching to confirm that you really are out of the way but he gave me leave to see you so that I could let you know that Duncan and the rest of the Grey Wardens are still in the Deep Roads."

Aunn's eyes widened and she wondered if she was hearing what she thought she was hearing. "They…what? Are you saying…?"

"Yes," Gorim nodded, looking animated for the first time since he had come in. "If you can stay alive long enough to find them then you can escape with them to the surface."

"The Assembly only decreed that I be sealed into the Deep Roads and that I fight darkspawn until I fall, not that this had to be anytime soon or that I couldn't leave," Aunn reasoned. "And as a Grey Warden, I'm almost guaranteed to get myself killed fighting darkspawn at some point, especially with this new Blight on the surface."

"Exactly!" Gorim cried, relieved that she seemed amenable to the idea. "And it isn't like you were opposed to joining the Grey Wardens in the first place."

"What does my father have to say about this?" Aunn asked, feeling masochistic for even bringing it up. Still, this was her only chance and she would not likely see him again.

"Lord Harrowmont says the king has taken ill. He couldn't bear losing two of his children at once," Gorim replied, glancing over his shoulder. Of course he couldn't. And yet at this point when he was the only one who could stop her from being fed to the darkspawn, what did he do? Retreat to the palace. How could he believe that she would do this? "My time is almost up. I'm going to try to make it to the human capital of Denerim. If you make it out, come find me there."

"I will," Aunn promised. "I'm not sure how long it will take, but I'll be there, if only so we'll know that we both survived."

"I begged to go with you and fight at your side, but Bhelen's pet nobles wouldn't hear of it," Gorim told her earnestly, as if she'd doubt him at this point.

"It's better this way," Aunn told him firmly. "It's bad enough you have to go to the surface without being sealed into the Deep Roads as well. I'll be fine, don't worry. I'll survive, I'll find you in Denerim, and things will be fine. I promise."

"I know that my path is safer," Gorim conceded. "But please do not tell me that it is better. I would gladly give up all the safety in the world for the chance to stay with you."

Aunn's smile was bittersweet. "I know. And that's why I'm glad that you don't have to. I love you, you see, and you deserve better."

"And so do you," Gorim insisted. "You know that you will always have my heart, my Lady Aeducan. May the Paragons guide your sword and the Stone hold you up."

And with that, he was gone. She wanted to call him back, to beg him to hold her once last time through the bars of the prison cell but…she couldn't. The guards weren't close enough to hear them but they were close enough to see and she'd be damned if she'd give her brother and the Assembly more of a scandal. Oh, but her pride did get in the way at times.

Bhelen's betrayal wasn't personal, he had indicated. Circumstances being what they were, she was inclined to believe him. And oh, didn't that make her feel better? He wanted the throne and was willing to do what it took to get it while, if her reluctance to preemptively commit fratricide was any indication, she wasn't. She wanted to kill him, she was proud of him, she simply didn't care…it was probably for the best she wouldn't see him again as she wasn't quite sure how she would react. Bhelen had screwed her over royally, her father was screwing her over through his inaction, even Trian had screwed her over by allowing himself to be murdered by the mercenaries she had dispatched so easily. And now she was going to get her chance to run off and be a Grey Warden, at last. She had to admit, however, that in all the various scenarios for being allowed to do this, her current one had honestly never occurred to her.

The oppressive silence was broken again by the prison guard. "Here is the prisoner, Lord Harrowmont."

Harrowmont came into view, his face impassive. "Having been found guilty of fratricide by the Assembly of Orzammar, you are hereby sentenced to exile and death. Your name is, from this point forward, stripped from the records. You are no longer a person, nor a memory. You are to be cast into the Deep Roads with only sword and shield, there to redeem your life by fighting the enemies of Orzammar until your death." He paused and then pressed forth with tentative hope in his voice. "Do you have anything to say before the sentence is carried out?"

Oh, she had a whole host of things to say and yet nothing at all. She was being torn from her home and she resented it. Still, this was her last chance and she knew better than to squander it. "You call this justice?" she asked, unable to keep the bitterness completely out of her voice. Under the circumstances, that was hardly something she could be blamed for.

"No, I don't," Harrowmont admitted, sounding sincerely sad. "I call it politics. I would have prevented this if I could. Everyone should have the right to face his accuser and defend himself, if nothing else."

"Why wasn't I given that opportunity?" Aunn wondered aloud. "If the Assembly would support sending me off to die without a trial then why wouldn't they just give me a show trial so it would seem less like a conspiracy? There's a precedent for being allowed to prove your innocence in a case of fratricide in a Proving, like Darvianak Vollney did, for that matter."

"Perhaps he is not as certain of his support as he would have us believe or he feared you would bring up that very precedent. Please, Aunn, look me in the eye and tell me you didn't do this. For your father's sake," Harrowmont entreated her, sounding almost desperate.

For her father's sake? The same father that would send her off to die without so much as apologizing or saying goodbye? She had very little she wanted to say to him at the moment but it wasn't Lord Harrowmont's fault her father wouldn't believe in her and he didn't have the power to stop this. What's more, he had even offered her a way out. She may as well set his mind at ease, although ancestor's knew it wouldn't matter in the end. "I didn't kill Trian," she declared passionately.

Harrowmont looked her straight in the eye and for one long, horrible moment she feared he, like everyone else, would not believe her. "I believe you," he said at last, sounding both relieved and infinitely sadder. "That means Bhelen planned this from the start. Believe me, I will spend the rest of my days making sure Bhelen does not profit by his deeds."

Aunn was touched at the anger he was showing on her behalf. At least someone was showing that they cared more about her than about winning. Gorim didn't count in that regard because she had known that he would so it wasn't an unexpected if pleasant surprise. "Thank you."

Harrowmont nodded his acknowledgement. "Your father asked me to give these to you. This sword and shield are of fine dwarven make. Strike a blow at our enemies."

As Aunn took the sword, she hesitated. "How…how is my father?" She wasn't sure she really wanted to know but she also knew she would regret it if she didn't take the time to ask now. Did he really expect arming her better than the average condemned – not convicted, if she had been convicted she would have had a trial – would make up for this travesty? This betrayal? It almost felt worse than Bhelen's because at least she knew what her brother would be getting out of this. Her father…she didn't understand.

"He is old and this tragedy has hit him hard. He will rest better now, though, knowing the truth," Harrowmont assured her. It was a bit strange hearing Harrowmont call her father old since he was easily ten years older than him but tragedy had a way of aging people, she supposed. She herself felt years older than she had the morning of her commission. Could she have stopped this? Was there anything she could have done differently? She didn't see how, but she refused to believe that this was inevitable.

Harrowmont seemed to be waiting for her to say something else, perhaps a final message to her father? He was letting this happen, he didn't believe her, he couldn't even be bothered to show up as she was thrown out of Orzammar…she had nothing to say to him. "It is time for me to go," she said instead.

Harrowmont bowed his head respectfully. "As you will, Lady of Aeducan."

Aunn's heart clenched as she realized that this could very well be the last time she would ever be addressed as such. By the stone, she didn't want to leave!

Harrowmont turned to the guard, his voice formal once more. "Open the doors and let the condemned walk through."

Aunn closed her eyes and took a deep breath, clenching the sword and shield in her hands tightly.

She stepped through the door and she didn't look back.

[Sarah1281]

Chapter Four: The Wardens That Weren't

Terror. As Aunn ran along the tunnels she'd been leading part of an expedition through just two days prior, she knew she had never been so terrified in her life. She might have been trying to remain calm for Gorim and for Harrowmont both so she wouldn't upset them even more and so she wouldn't lose face but now that she was out here on her own she could barely stop herself from panicking.

Panicking, though, was a bad idea. A horrible idea. Maybe if she had any intention of actually sticking to the spirit of her punishment and dying down here it might not be so bad as losing her head would surely cause her to die faster and she had little interest in spending weeks down here slowly dying of starvation, which was all that awaited her if she were careful. Well, she supposed that there was always the Legion but there was no way Bhelen wouldn't find out about that at some point and then who knew what he'd do? Not to mention that from what she knew of the Legion they required their members to get very distinctive facial tattoos so they would be easily recognized by their fellow dwarves and ancestors…no, she couldn't say that, could she? She wasn't in the records anymore, therefore she had no ancestors. She was still far too much of a snob to consent to facial tattoos, though. Maybe in a few weeks if she was starving and the Legion came across her and offered to save her…ugh. She really was fortunate that the Grey Wardens were down here, somewhere. If only she could find them.

She had no idea where she was going in the best of times of times and certainly not when she was as stricken as she was now. She didn't want to die, not like this. She almost wished she had killed Trian, just so that she would deserve this. If there was one thing she had never wanted to be, it was a victim and it was seriously pissing her off that Bhelen had turned her into one. Good, anger. Hold on to that so that it could spur her forward.

None of this was her fault! What was she supposed to have done? He gave her no warning! If she had said she would kill Trian then she very well might have gotten a chance to speak to Trian…but only after Bhelen had convinced him she was going to kill him. Trian had never been very reasonable at the best of times and if his paranoia was justified by her own words? Talking him down would have been tricky and she wasn't sure she could have managed it. Not to mention that with Ivo and – probably – that scout in Bhelen's pocket (for who knew if the ambush would have come before or after the scout's untimely demise?) one of them was sure to have been instructed to start something if it looked like it might have been resolved peacefully.

Aunn cursed at the burning in her lungs and defiantly sped up. She had been running for quite awhile and had already slaughtered the occasional Thaig crawler and roaming darkspawn. It was sad, really; this was the same path the expedition had taken a mere two days before and by the time they were through these tunnels had been completely clear of darkspawn but they had returned already. Orzammar really was in trouble but then again, so was she.

As Aunn turned yet another corner, she stopped short as she spotted the Grey Wardens slowly making their way towards freedom. She had never been so happy to see a human in her life, much less three of them, and unbidden a smile came to her lips. "I guess the ancestors haven't abandoned me, after all," she marveled. She could hardly believe it, yet here it was. She wasn't going to die after all. "Duncan!"

The leader of the Grey Wardens halted his journey and turned around at the sound of his name, looking a little surprised. It was to be expected, really: no one came down here unless they were on an official expedition and there wasn't another one planned anytime soon after the big one a few days ago.

Aunn hurried over to the Wardens. "Is that offer from three days ago still good?"

"By the maker, it's a dwarf!" one of the Grey Wardens exclaimed, sounding for all the world like it was unusual to run into dwarves in the Deep Roads.

Aunn rolled her eyes. "Well spotted."

"Lady Aeducan?" Duncan, if anything, looked more shocked upon recognizing her. "What are you doing here alone? Where are your troops?"

Aunn closed her eyes tightly. Her troops? Right. Because they had been ever-so-helpful in furthering her brother's plans. And to hear herself be called that again, after she had resigned herself to never hearing it again following Harrowmont's formal farewell…it hurt. She almost wished she didn't have to tell them what had happened but if she didn't then there was no way he would let her join them. The political considerations of taking a princess into their ranks when the king disapproved…no, they would probably attempt to return her to Orzammar and wouldn't that be fun. "I…that title is no longer entirely accurate, I'm afraid."

"Ah," Duncan said with sudden realization. "You have been made to walk the Deep Roads, then."

"You mean you were exiled?" the Warden from earlier gasped. "What happened?"

"I do not think matters of dwarven honor are any business of ours," Duncan said sharply, glancing over at his nosy compatriot. "You need not answer, friend," he said more gently, looking back at her.

Tempting, but she couldn't very well run from this. If they ever encountered anyone from Orzammar with her in their ranks the subject would certainly come up. Orzammar had never been kind to those it had rejected, whether due to birth or deed. She wondered which category she fell into. Probably both. "No, it's alright," she claimed. It really wasn't but it had to be done. Maybe voicing it would make it easier for her to wrap her head around, easier to believe that this was real. "My brother…"

"Prince Trian?" Duncan prompted. It seemed that now that she had confirmed her willingness to discuss the matter of her exile, however grudgingly, he was just as eager to know what had happened. She supposed it wasn't surprising, dwarven nature being what it was. It was probably the same for humans.

"He's dead," Aunn said shortly. "The Assembly decided that I did it and Bhelen led the effort to throw me to the darkspawn."

"So…did you do it?" that one Grey Warden just didn't know when to stop talking, did he?

"The Assembly certainly says I did, which means that legally I am guilty," Aunn explained. "Although, technically I no longer legally exist, either…"

"Orzammar law is weird," the Grew Warden said bluntly.

Duncan sighed heavily. "Terrowin, that's enough."

"Sorry, Duncan," the Grey Warden, Terrowin apparently, apologized, having the grace to look a bit sheepish.

"I am sorry to hear about your brother's death and your exile," Duncan told her sincerely. "It would seem that the brutal intrigue of the dwarven court continues. Your father intimated as much."

Aunn's heart stopped. Her father had what? He had suspected something like this would happen? Most likely between her and Trian and she supposed all things considered it wasn't surprising and yet…still…but no, there was no point in getting upset about this. If she kept along this line of thinking then she was sure to get some bona fide daddy issues and Trian and Bhelen had had more than enough for all of them. Of course, now that Trian was dead maybe it was her turn.

"You know, you're the first person to offer condolences for what happened," Aunn remarked, almost idly. "Everyone else either saw no need to commiserate with my brother's killer or was more concerned about making sure that I didn't die for something they believed that I did not do."

Terrowin looked like he desperately wanted to press her for an actual answer regarding her innocence or guilt but refrained, for which Aunn was somewhat grateful. She had no answer to give. No, she had not actually done the deed but legally she was responsible. Exactly how much could she be expected to defy the Assembly? They were the second-highest authority in Orzammar and the only person with more power than them – her father – was at least tacitly backing them on this. She may not agree, but she did respect their authority.

"It is not the way of this order to pass judgments on the pasts of others," Duncan assured her. "You've already proven yourself both resourceful and skilled and I would expect nothing less from an Aeducan."

Aunn started. Why was he still referring to her as an Aeducan? He already knew she had been exiled and he had to know enough of her customs to understand what that meant. Unless… "What is the Surfacer policy for exiles? Do they actually keep their name?"

Duncan nodded. "In Orzammar you may not exist anymore and were you a Grey Warden it would not matter but yes, on the Surface you would remain Aunn Aeducan."

"I'm okay with that," she admitted quietly. It's not like she knew how to not be an Aeducan anyway.

"As you are aware, a Blight is coming. I've been searching for those with your level of ability. Your exploits in the Deep Roads set you apart and there is no reason for you to walk these Deep Roads and die for something you did not do," Duncan said slowly.

"I never said I didn't do it," Aunn pointed out, trying not to sound too eager. Was he about to offer what she hoped he was?

"Even if you did, then you are still the child of my old friend, and do not deserve to die in this pit," Duncan said firmly. "You had expressed an interest in enlisting in our ranks at your feast and when you first found us you indicated that that was still something you were interested in. As such, as the leader of the Grey Wardens in Ferelden, I would like to formally invite you to join our Order."

"Yes," Aunn replied almost before he had finished offering. She was actually going to get to be a Grey Warden after all? Whoever would have thought, when she'd been turned into a sodding victim, that something positive could come out of this catastrophe?

"Then welcome," Duncan said warmly as the five of them continued towards the Surface. "We have a few stops to make before joining with the human forces lead by King Cailan at Ostagar to face the darkspawn hordes. Stay close, there are still darkspawn around every corner."

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Terrowin asked her. "I mean, being a Grey Warden…you can't back out of it, you know?"

"What else could I do?" Aunn returned rhetorically. "I know next to nothing about the Surface, you know. Some people are convinced that if you go up there you will fall into the sky."

"Well, I can assure you that that has never happened to me," Terrowin said dryly. "Nor to any of the dwarves I've met, although admittedly there haven't been that many."

"I never said that I believed it!" Aunn said defensively. "…But that is good to know, thanks."

"No problem," Terrowin smiled at her. "But the question still stands."

Aunn shrugged. "I've seen what the darkspawn can do and I'm not about to sit back and try for a civilian life when a Blight is at hand. Besides, what else could I do? From what I've heard of Surface dwarves, they are usually merchants or smiths. I know nothing about smithing and couldn't possibly learn enough to support myself fast enough and I know very little about being a merchant and have no connections and no idea where to start. I suppose I could always marry a smith or a merchant, but if I were willing to just fade into the background and let a husband take control then I wouldn't be in this situation in the first place, now would I? Besides, all of those options sound terribly dull."

Duncan chuckled. "I fear the Grey Wardens will not be as glamorous as you no doubt are envisioning but it is certainly not 'dull.' When we stop at Denerim we should be able to get you some dwarven armor. I assume you have nothing but what you're wearing?"

Aunn hesitated. "Well…I did see some armor on a few corpses I passed but…"

"But?" Duncan prompted.

Aunn made a face. "Was I really supposed to put on armor I pulled off of a corpse? I wouldn't even have had an opportunity to clean it and I just…no. Not happening."

"That was reckless," Duncan admonished. "You might have been killed before reaching us."

"I'm supposed to get myself killed," Aunn reminded them. "And it's not like I needed it; the darkspawn didn't land a single hit."

"You are a very skilled fighter," Duncan acknowledged. "But if you are going to survive long enough to be a help against the darkspawn you are going to need armor at some point."

That was fine. Just as long as it didn't come from a dead man it had so very clearly failed to protect.



Their first stop was the Circle Tower, supposedly home to all of the Ferelden mages. Aunn wasn't convinced as the thought that every mage in the entire country would be willing to go live there seemed a little far-fetched, especially considering how dreary and isolated the whole place looked. Granted, Orzammar was also quite insulated but it was also bigger and more populated than this giant phallic prison seemed to be.

In the two weeks it had taken to get from Orzammar to the Circle Tower, Aunn had very little time to dwell on the circumstances of her joining the Wardens, for which she was grateful. It might have been just travelling to her companions, but it was her introduction to a whole new world she had honestly never expected to see and which would, tragically, probably be her only world from now on.

Aunn really wished she could say that she had handled her first glimpse of the Surface with poise and dignity but, well, honestly she hadn't exactly. Of course, if anyone ever asked her, she intended to lie like nobody's business but she'd know the truth regardless. Her first glimpse of the sun had hurt her eyes and Duncan had had to warn her against staring into it directly. And the sky was just so open and empty that once she had managed to tear her eyes away from the big ball of fire in the sky she had stood transfixed staring at it, searching for the end, and the Grey Wardens had kept going for almost a minute before realizing that she'd stopped. The first time she had encountered grass she hadn't known what it was and wasn't sure if it was okay to just trample the small plant that appeared to be everywhere or if there was some strange Surface way of walking on it that she had yet to be made aware of, though she was assured that it was fine.

The Surface was…weird and not at all what she thought it would be. Admittedly, she hadn't really had a clear picture of what she had imagined it would be like – how did one go around imaging a giant hole where the ceiling should be, anyway? – but her continued surprise seemed to indicate that this was certainly nothing like her vague thoughts on the subject had been. Everything was so much brighter on the Surface and more colorful, too. It made things more interesting to look at but also distinctly alien. The smells were just wrong, although she didn't quite know how to explain it. That was another thing she had never really spent much time considering, but clearly the smell of the underground and the smell of the Surface were nothing alike. At least the dirt still smelled the same, even if nothing else did. Granted, picking up a handful of dirt and sniffing it had earned her some strange looks but she was homesick and an exile in a strange land so she was entitled to some eccentricities!

Everyone was so much taller than she was, too. She had seen humans before, of course, though not often and their towering above her people made her feel that their height was unnatural and not hers. Realistically, of course, Aunn knew that they were both perfectly appropriate for their separate species but now that she was the one surrounded by those that might not even notice her if they weren't paying attention…she didn't belong here. She knew that but the constant reminders were not helping matters. And she swore that the first time someone tripped on her, looked around at their eye level when she addressed them, or did anything else to make it clear that they didn't see her…well, it wouldn't end well for them, now would it? These humans she was travelling with now and the ones she saw on the way to the Circle Tower…they were a completely different species to her and she was having problems getting past that. They were a different species like nugs or bronto were different species. Granted, dwarves and humans were far closer related than either of them were to the nugs or bronto but it was still an indelible barrier between them. She might feel the difference less in time but she couldn't imagine in and honestly wasn't sure she would want to. If she stopped worrying about things like that then wouldn't that make her a 'proper' Surface dwarf? Had things been different and she'd been allowed to join the Wardens without being exiled first she would still have a lot of the same problems, she knew, but then at least she'd have the option of going home and feeling normal again if things got to be too much. Now, however…now this was the only option she had.

Fortunately, her companions were pretty understanding of her sensory overload, if a little bemused at just how many basic Surface things she had simply never heard of. Terrowin, as she'd expected, never knew when to stop talking but he meant well. Sadon was much quieter but whenever he did say something it was usually sarcastic, which she could appreciate. He actually reminded her a little of Gorim in that regard but she was most certainly not thinking about that. She liked Duncan the most, though. Not only was he the one who had saved her and gave her the option to keep the details of her exile to herself, but he was always very patient answering her sometimes incessant questions. She wasn't trying to be annoying, of course, and feared that it may come off that way despite her best intentions but she really just hated how ignorant she was of the Surface and was doing her utmost to correct that as quickly as possible.

When they had arrived at Lake Calenhad – named for the man who had united the warring lands into one country and became the first Ferelden King 400 years ago – there had been a messenger from the neighboring castle of Redcliffe. Apparently Duncan, Terrowin, Sadon, and another Grey Warden named Tybalt had stopped at Redcliffe first and had recruited the winner of a tournament into the Wardens and sent him off to Ostagar with Tybalt. The Arl, Eamon, had known Duncan intended to return to look into the situation with the mages the Chantry was allowing to join the King's army at Ostagar after he had first destroyed an ancient and corruptive Tevinter mirror (apparently already done) and then traveled to Orzammar seek further evidence of the Blight.

Apparently the army was amassing at this 'Ostagar' – which Duncan explained was an ancient Tevinter fortress – over a period of several weeks, during which time Duncan was travelling all across the land taking care of Blight business and searching for recruits. Several weeks sounded dreadfully inefficient to Aunn, but then again if troops had to come from all across a vast country with limited communication then that might explain part of the delay. It still wasn't very practical, of course, but there it was. Eamon was the King's uncle but for some reason the King wanted every other noble's forces at Ostagar except his. That was very strange and there was probably more to the story but all Eamon wanted was for Duncan to remind the King that his forces could arrive at Ostagar within a week if need be.

Duncan had agreed to deliver the message then sent Terrowin and Sadon to Ostagar with the rest of the Ferelden Wardens in case a battle should break out before he was ready to travel there himself. Aunn herself would be staying with Duncan as she wouldn't be much help in a battle without armor and he doubted that there would be any dwarven armor available at Ostagar.

After Terrowin and Sadon had left, she and Duncan had gotten onto a boat ran by a human named Kester and set off for the Tower. Aunn was actually glad that she was getting the chance to travel around Ferelden as that was sure to be an easier way of finding out about the Surface then sitting around waiting for something to happen at any army camp.

When they had arrived, Duncan had been taken right to the two people in charge, a mage named Irving and a 'Templar' named Greagoir. She really had no idea what that even was, but fortunately for her there was a man dressed similarly to Greagoir in front of her so she could probably get the answers to her questions that way. Unfortunately, he was a little distracted dreamily watching two girls arguing.

"Of course they're not going to give us a ceremony for becoming full mages!" a dark-haired girl with pointy ears was insisting. Aunn had never seen an elf before, but she was fairly certain this mage was one. "Honestly, Angélique, don't you think that if they were it we would have seen other people's ceremonies?"

"Maybe only full mages get to attend," the blonde human, Angélique, suggested. "I just wish I knew so I could dress accordingly. I certainly wouldn't want to wear an icky mage outfit if there's going to be a party."

The elf groaned. "First a ceremony and now a party? Can you at least pretend you're capable of rationality for two seconds?"

"There's no need to be so condescending, Caunira," Angélique sniffed.

"With you there's always a need to be condescending," Caunira muttered. "If we were going to get a medal or a party then why do some people not survive it?"

"Parties are serious business," Angélique said knowingly. "Some people just can't handle being that fabulous, I guess."

Caunira just stared at her for a moment. "…How exactly are you managing to get your Harrowing next week again?"

Angélique smiled winningly. "I'm just that talented. Don't feel bad, though, you must be adequate yourself since you're going the same day that I am."

Caunira rolled her eyes. "We arrived here within a week of each other and yet you going next week makes you amazing and yet I must only be 'adequate'? That is so typical."

"The world needs adequate mages, as well, if only to make us amazing ones stand out more," Angélique attempted to console the other mage.

"Please, tell me why it would be called the 'Harrowing' if it's supposed to be a party?" Caunira demanded.

"Maybe it's a misleading name," Angélique suggested. "It would be a great way to trick the newcomers. Too bad I'm too smart for them!"

Caunira threw her hands up in the air in exasperation. "You know, that's it; I don't even care. I'm going to go find Jowan."

"Not if I find him first!" Angélique countered.

Caunira closed her eyes tightly. "You are so lucky he likes you, Amell, or I probably would have strangled you in your sleep by now."

"And you, Surana, are lucky that I am such an amazing and gorgeous person or else your constant negativity would really get on my nerves," Angélique returned.

The two glared at each other before storming off in opposite directions.

The minute they were out of sight the man she had been attempting to talk to blinked and looked down at her. "Sorry, you were saying something?"

Aunn rolled her eyes. "Seriously, you should just tell her you like her or something or get a transfer if you can't focus if she's in the same room."

"What?" the man started. "I'm not hopelessly in love with Angélique, why would you even suggest such a thing?"

Aunn shot him a look. "Really? Her?"

"What's wrong with her?" the man asked defensively.

Other than the fact she seemed to be shallow, self-absorbed, and a bit of an idiot? "Nothing, nothing…and the fact you were staring at her from the moment she walked into the room to the moment she left it might be some sort of indication."

"I can't be in love with her," the man insisted stubbornly if unconvincingly. "As I am a Templar and she is a mage."

"So you're a Templar?" Aunn asked, eager to get the conversation back on track.

The Templar nodded. "Oh, where are my manners? I am the Templar Cullen, pleased to make your acquaintance."

"I am the soon-to-be Grey Warden Aunn," Aunn introduced. "So what is a templar, exactly, and why do you wear skirts? Is that a Templar thing or a Surface thing?"

"It is not a skirt!" Cullen bristled. "This is my templar uniform."

"That doesn't mean the uniform doesn't consist of armor on top and then a skirt," Aunn pointed out.

"You may not see the purpose but I assure you that it is an ancient templar tradition with-" Cullen began heatedly.

"Okay," Aunn said simply.

"Okay?" Cullen repeated. "Just like that?"

"Sure," Aunn shrugged. "Traditions are traditions, after all."

"Oh, well…that they are, I guess," Cullen remarked. "And you asked what a Templar was, as well? Have you really never heard of us?"

"I am going to assume from your presence at the Tower that Templars are somehow involved with mages – not like that – and I only recently left Orzammar where we did not have any mages," Aunn explained. Cullen had looked like he was going to have a heart attack when she'd Templars mentioned being 'involved with' mages.

Cullen nodded. "Right you are. Templars are a military order of the Chantry that watches the mages in the Circle tower and hunts down apostates and maleficars. We also preside over the Harrowings, which is a rite of passage for mage apprentices, but the details of that are classified. Do you at least know what the Chantry is?"

So she had been right, not all Ferelden mages did live here. Not that she could blame those that didn't; this place was rather dreary. "I have," Aunn confirmed. She might not know much but Brother Genitivi had told her a little about them the last time he had come through Orzammar. "But what are apostates and maleficars?"

"Apostates are mages that are not part of the Circle," Cullen informed her. "There are two kinds: Hedge mages who were never part of the Circle and rogue mages who have fled. Rogue mages are, of course, far easier to track down-"

"Why?" Aunn interrupted.

"Because rogue mages still have their phylactery, of course," Cullen replied. "You…don't know what that is either, I guess? It is the essence of a magical being. All mages apprentices have blood taken from them when they enter the tower that we templars can use to track them down if they flee."

Aunn made a face. "That sounds…I am so glad I'm not a mage and not just because that would require me to be a human or an elf."

"Me too," Cullen admitted. "But there are reasons for a lot of it. Mages can be a danger to themselves and others if they can't control their magic and they are the usual targets demons seek to possess, which results in them becoming abominations. Not to mention maleficars, which are mages that practice forbidden arts such as blood magic. Maleficars are not necessarily apostates and vice versa, but that's how it usually works."

"What's blood magic?" Aunn wondered. "Is it just magic that uses blood? How is that bad?"

"Blood magic was taught to humans by demons," Cullen exposited. "It involves sacrificing your life force or the life force of others to wield. It's very powerful, very much against the Chantry, and has a great potential for abuse. Some say the Tevinters used blood magic to enter the Golden City and turn it into the Black City and themselves into darkspawn. And let's not forget the potential for mind control…"

Aunn shuddered. "Sounds bad."

"It is," Cullen confirmed. "Which is why it's strictly forbidden."

"So back to what I was originally asking, why can't Templars and mages get together?" Aunn inquired. "Is it because they fear it would compromise the Templars' ability to guard the mages if they were involved?"

Cullen nodded. "That's why it would be worse if the person a Templar was involved with was a mage but Templars are actually not allowed to get involved with anyone. In fact, we've taken vows to that effect."

Aunn's eyes widened in horror. "You mean…ever?"

"Chantry sisters and revered mothers can't, either," Cullen confirmed.

"Okay, take it back," Aunn announced. "I would so rather be a mage…"



After the Circle Tower, they went to the teynir of Highever to look into recruiting a talented fighter. The news from the Circle Tower hadn't been promising. The Templars were agreeing to spare seven mages for the fight. Seven. Mages must be very powerful indeed for that to even begin to make sense. Aunn herself had never seen a mage in action aside from the rare darkspawn equivalent and, as a dwarf, she was naturally resistant to magic so she knew she really didn't have an accurate idea of their capabilities. Still, seven? Against an entire horde? If they were really all that powerful how ever did the Templars keep them in check? She should have asked Cullen. Maybe they had some sort of resistance to magic of their own?

Seven mages…sure she had gone into the Aeducan Thaig with only one other person to begin with and at most had only three people with her but she was just fighting stragglers, not an entire horde! The mage in charge, Irving, had wanted to send more but the head Templar, Greagoir, hadn't allowed it and wasn't happy about sending the seven he did agree to. Irving also wanted Duncan to recruit Angélique and Caunira but Duncan didn't have time to wait a week for their Harrowing and Greagoir, not thrilled with the prospect of losing two brand-new mages to the Wardens, refused to move it up. Duncan promised he'd be back to see if they were qualified after Ostagar and Aunn really, really hoped that they weren't. Caunira would be okay, she supposed, but the other one? Angélique? She'd sooner go back to properly fill out her sentence in the Deep Roads then deal with her on a regular basis.

Aunn wasn't entirely sure what a teynir was and so Duncan quickly explained the Ferelden system of nobility. At the top were the King and Queen, of course, followed by the Teyrns. In Ferelden there were two Teyrns: Teyrn Bryce Cousland of Highever and Teyrn Loghain Mac Tir of Gwaren. Loghain was apparently some big hero from when he had helped drive the occupying Orlesians out of Ferelden some thirty years ago. She had known Orlais was a neighboring country but this was the first she had heard of an occupation. Then again, as long as the Orlesians knew better than to try to invade Orzammar why would they care what was happening with Surface politics? Beneath the Teyrns there were the Arls and beneath them were the Banns. That sounded simple enough to remember.

Officially, Duncan was here to recruit one of the Highever knights, Ser Roland Gilmore. If the way Teyrn Cousland (why was it that it was Teyrn Cousland and Teyrn Loghain, anyway? Did they go by what sounded better since? One would think that they could at least be consistent with addressing them by their given name or their surname) was nervously eyeing his daughter and keeping her far away from Duncan was any indication, he feared that she was his real target. Grey Wardens had the right of conscription so technically Duncan could choose whoever he wanted to for the Order but recruiting Anastasia Cousland posed the same political problems allowing her to join before her exile would have: an angry and hostile father with a great amount of influence.

They had been at Highever three days so far and Gilmore was nearly finished showing off his martial prowess for Duncan to see if he was Grey Warden material and Aunn was waiting with Anastasia and her older brother Fergus in the library. Aunn was grateful that Fergus was there as things had been a bit awkward since she had inadvertently walked in on Anastasia and Gilmore in a compromising position the day before. It seemed she wasn't the only noblewoman to be more interested in knights then in noble boys. She had, of course, promised not to say anything and she intended to keep that promise but Anastasia had been a little wary ever since. It was hardly Aunn's fault that they had forgotten to lock the door before they started going at it, though.

"Oh, cut it out," Anastasia was saying, swatting at her brother playfully. "He will not!"

"You know that Arl Howe has always wanted one of us to marry one of his children," Fergus countered. "It took him nearly a year after my wedding to Oriana he seemed to remember that I was no longer available."

"Well, yes," Anastasia admitted. "But Thomas drinks too much and flirts with everything that moves. Not to mention he's five years younger than me!"

"And Delilah is eight years younger than me," Fergus countered. "And while I know you're not big on alcohol, you're hardly one to talk about being overly flirtatious. You're starting to get a reputation."

Anastasia shrugged. "Am I? Oh well. I'm not the one anyone's seeking to engage to one of the Howes so that's hardly relevant."

"Didn't you like Nathaniel when you were younger?" Fergus queried.

"I did," Anastasia conceded. "But he was far older than me and that crush died as soon as he grew that disgusting furry thing on his chin."

Fergus rolled his eyes. "It's called a 'beard', little sister, and it's a perfectly natural phenomenon. I have one too, you know."

"You don't have this 'beard' that you speak of, you have stubble," Anastasia corrected. "And laugh if you must but that thing gave me nightmares for a month!"

Fergus apparently must because he immediately startled chuckling. "You're so picky, Anastasia. No wonder mother can't find someone for you to marry."

"Oh, look who's talking," Anastasia shot back. "You're so picky you had to look outside the country for your bride!"

"At least I got married," Fergus said smugly. "And ever since Oren was born mother hasn't had anything cross to say to me."

"She's too busy focusing on me, I'm sure," Anastasia muttered. "You know that I'll only get married if it's for love, right? Because if I don't then I'll just end up falling for and having a torrid affair with the local blacksmith and you know what father always says about that."

" 'Marry the blacksmith'," the Cousland siblings said together.

"Still," Anastasia said slowly, biting her lip, "there are a lot of noble boys in the world. I'm sure to find someone someday." She didn't sound very happy about that and Aunn wondered if it was because of Gilmore. She could certainly relate, or at least she had been able to before the world had ended.

"Well, don't worry," Fergus told her warmly. "If he tries anything when he arrives – if he ever arrives, he's already delayed bringing his troops twice – then I'll distract him while you make a break for it."

Aunn watched silently as the two interacted. They were nobility, just like she had been. They were only marginally below actually being royalty so it really amounted to about the same thing anyway. Fergus was the elder but the Teyrn hadn't declared his successor yet so rumor had it his heir might be Anastasia. The two of them were rivals as well as siblings and yet there didn't seem to be any bitterness between them like with Trian. They looked as if they loved each other and there wasn't even anything slightly off like there had been about Bhelen for years. They were siblings that were genuinely close complete with loving parents, an easygoing wife/in-law, and an adorable child. They were nobility and yet the managed to have both power and a real family.

It almost made her wish…but there was no point.



As it happened, Gilmore did qualify to be a Grey Warden and so he set off with them towards the human capital of Denerim. Teyrn Cousland seemed glad to see the back of them, if only because this way he could be sure his daughter wouldn't be running off to join them. All Aunn could think about the entire time they were travelling was her promise to Gorim that she'd find him in Denerim. It had only been a few short weeks since she'd left – a few weeks that had felt like forever and yet practically no time at all – and so there was really no guarantee that he'd made it to the city yet. Her exile had been rushed and since Gorim had gotten in to see her just fine even though he'd been sentenced to come to the Surface, who even knew how long it would actually be until he left?

She tried not to get her hopes up as she scanned every area they passed through for any sign of him. Denerim was a big city so it was conceivable that he was already there but she was simply looking in the wrong places. She really wished that she and Gorim had been more specific about where they were supposed to find each other but then again they didn't know much about the Surface as it was and it wasn't like he could just stand in one agreed-upon spot forever just waiting for her to show up when there was really no guarantee that she'd even survive the Deep Roads long enough to find Duncan…It made sense that they couldn't have been more specific but she really wished that they had.

"What are you looking for?" Gilmore asked her curiously. "Or is this just your first time in a big city like Denerim? I know the first time I came here I got lost three times and Lady Cousland wouldn't stop laughing at me for a week."

Aunn shook her head. "I was born in a big city so I'm used to that. It's actually all the space in the country that feels a bit surreal. I'm just looking for a friend of mine who said he was planning on coming here the last time I saw him." That was nice and vague, wasn't it? No need to get into specifics.

"Well, if you don't find him this time you can always come back after Ostagar and seek him out, then," Gilmore suggested.

"I'll probably have to," Aunn sighed.

"And just what do you think you're doing?" Duncan asked suddenly, looking amused.

Aunn glanced over to see a human with rather strange facial hair pull his hand back from where Duncan had caught it. "I guess you're not the easy mark I was hoping for after all. Sorry about that and now I've got to run," he said quickly before taking off.

"Hey, is that Daveth?" one of the guards asked.

"It is!" another one exclaimed. "Let's get him!"

Duncan was looking in the direction Daveth had run speculatively.

"Why do I get the feeling that we're going to have to go chasing after them?" Aunn wondered aloud.

"Probably because Wardens take recruits wherever they can get them and this Daveth character seems to be desperate?" Gilmore suggested.

"There's no need," Duncan told them. "They'll need to take him before the captain of the guard once they catch him."

Duncan led them to a bored-looking man in armor that looked like it had never seen combat.

"You're the Grey Warden they're talking about, aren't you?" the captain asked, glancing over at them.

"Indeed," Duncan nodded at him.

"Can I help you with something then?" the captain inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"Not at the moment, no. Perhaps if we could just wait here?" Duncan suggested.

The captain shrugged. "Oh, why not? Just don't cause any trouble."

"We shall do our utmost not to," Duncan promised.

And then they had to wait. Aunn quickly grew bored and wished they'd been able to find the armorer before getting sidetracked by this baseborn dung-beetle of a thief. Nearly half an hour had passed and Aunn was about half-way through her fifth elaborate death scenario for Daveth when he reappeared in the custody of the two guards who had chased after him before.

"Captain, we managed to capture Daveth," one of them announced proudly.

"He's a tricky one," the other added, "but we got him in the end."

"Ah, Daveth…" the guard said slowly, sounding satisfied. "We've been trying to capture you for some time, did you know that?"

"I might have had some idea," Daveth said defiantly, looking the captain straight in the eye.

"Always making a nuisance of yourself, stealing from the rich, and just generally causing trouble," the captain continued as if he hadn't heard him. "I trust you've heard that we intend to hang you?"

Daveth said nothing.

"If I may," Duncan spoke up.

The captain started and glanced over at Duncan as if he had forgotten that he was there and had no idea why he was getting involved. "Certainly, Warden."

"I hereby invoke the right of conscription," Duncan announced.

"You…what?" the captain gasped. "Are you certain? He's a criminal!"

"I am certain," Duncan insisted. "And if you are so eager to hang him then that just goes to show that I was right in my estimation about him having skills."

"I suppose you are," the captain agreed reluctantly. "I can't say I think much of your judgment, Warden, but it is your right. Have him out of the city by tomorrow."

"I will," Duncan assured him.

"Am I hearing this correctly?" Daveth asked gleefully. "I'm NOT going to hang?"

"No, you're going to go be a Grey Warden," the captain confirmed, shaking his head in bemusement. "For all the good you'll do them…"

Daveth promptly flipped the captain off and followed merrily after Duncan as the Warden-Commander began walking again.

"Well," Aunn said, trying to be optimistic. "At least he's better than Angélique."

"Who?" Gilmore asked her.

Aunn merely shook her head. "Oh, trust me, you do NOT want to know."

"If she's female and half-attractive then I definitely want to know," Daveth piped up.

"She's a mage," Aunn said shortly.

Daveth grinned. "Kinky."

"The Grey Wardens do take all kinds," Gilmore reminded her.

"I know," Aunn said softly, remembering how she'd yet to give a conclusive answer on whether she'd killed Trian or not.

"Here we are," Duncan stopped suddenly in front of a sign that said 'Wade's Emporium.' "Wade is a little eccentric but he gets bored crafting the same types of armor so he keeps a variety of armor in stock and you can usually count on him to have something for elves and dwarves as well as humans."

Practically the moment the four had crossed the threshold into the store, they were greeted by an overeager if harried-looking blonde man. "Welcome to Wade's Emporium!" he greeted them. "Please tell me you're here to buy something we already have made and not expecting a custom order? And for the love of all that is good in this world please don't tell me you're here to order something custom-made."

"You're so mean to me, Herron," a dark-skinned man with an large mustache (Wade?) pouted as he came in from the next room. "Ah, Duncan! Did you manage to find the drake scale, heartwood, golem shell, or dragon bone I was looking for yet?"

"Wade!" Herron looked positively pained at this point. "Can you at least pretend that you're not illicitly trying to gain more 'interesting' materials and completely leaving our paying customer's orders unfinished?"

"You wound me," Wade said innocently. "There's nothing illicit about it if I'm asking right in front of you. And you just don't understand true art…"

"Not yet, old friend," Duncan spoke up, gesturing towards Aunn. "I was actually hoping to purchase some armor for my friend here."

Wade peered closely at her. "Ah, I believe I do have something for a dwarf. Herron?"

"Ah yes, let me see…" Herron disappeared into the back room for a few moments before returning with a set of armor in his hands. "We don't have many dwarven customers so I keep this apart from the rest of the stock but it's fine quality, I assure you."

Aunn inspected the armor carefully. It wasn't as nice as the armor she was accustomed to – but then again, as a princess with access to the Orzammar private royal armorer she was used to nothing but the best – but it was still very nice craftsmanship and looked like something the higher-ups in the warrior caste might wear. She really did need to work on that whole snobbery thing, didn't she? "This is something I can use," she announced.

She put on the armor while Duncan settled the bill. She wished she could pay for it herself but she had no money with her and wasn't sure when she would get any. She'd pay him back eventually, though. Her pride demanded it. The fact her pride's demand to get her out of rags and into some proper armor again was the only reason she could even bring herself to accept this.

"Aw, you could at least take your other clothes off," Daveth suggested, wiggling his eyebrows. Aunn decided the best way to respond to that was to simply ignore it.

Standing there, properly attired again for the first time in weeks, Aunn was almost able to believe that she could do this.



"What do you mean 'gone'?" Duncan asked quietly but authoritatively.

"The guards took her away," the leader of the elven alienage – Valendrian - clarified. The daughter of the woman he had once intended to recruit and who he had come to try to recruit in her place was gone and Duncan was not happy.

"What happened?" Duncan demanded.

"Two weeks ago Ahria's groom arrived early from the Alienage in Highever and so we decided to do a double wedding with her cousin Soris since his bride had also arrived," Valendrian explained. "But the Arl of Denerim's son, Vaughan, interrupted the wedding to kidnap the entire bridal party. Soris and Ahria's intended went to go save the women. The groom-to-be didn't make it, though Soris and Ahria were able to rescue everyone. Unfortunately, they killed Vaughan in the process and so the guards came to take the two away and we haven't heard anything about Soris since then but Ahria…Ahria is dead. She was the one to kill Vaughan – violently – and the humans made sure to let everyone know what had happened to her. Soris' sister Shianni is taking is pretty hard. She blames herself for provoking Vaughan earlier that day…"

"I see," Duncan sighed. "That is most regrettable and I am sorry for your loss. I do find myself curious as to why a wedding was scheduled two weeks ago when you knew I was coming to recruit her."

Valendrian looked down. "I wanted to keep her safe like Adaia. Joining the Grey Wardens is a dangerous choice and there's no turning back. Ironically, it turns out my actions made her exactly as safe as her mother…"

"A Blight is coming," Duncan informed him. "I need recruits."

Valendrian paled. "A Blight? Are you certain? Never mind, of course you are. If only I'd known…"

"You had no way of knowing that," Duncan pointed out. "Now, I'm very sorry that I cannot stay, old friend, but I must head south to Ostagar. If the darkspawn horde is not stopped there then it will spread and ravage the land unchecked until the Archdemon appears."

That certainly didn't sound good. To Ostagar, then.

[Sarah1281]

Chapter Five: Not the Best First Impression

They ran into a human in gorgeous gold armor shortly before arriving at the army camp. His hair reminded her a lot of Trian – it was done in the same style and even the same color – but her first impression was that he was nothing like her recently deceased older brother.

"What's this?" the blonde human asked cheerfully. "A royal welcome."

"Greetings, your majesty," Duncan inclined his head respectfully. "Your uncle would like to remind you that his forces can be here within a week." Eamon's nephew? This must be the King, then.

"Bah, Eamon just wants in on the glory," the King dismissed. "And who are these three with you? New recruits? Between them and that knight from Redcliffe it would seem that your recruitment drive was successful."

"Moderately so," Duncan agreed, no doubt thinking about the Wardens he had wanted but hadn't gotten. That casteless girl, the mages Angélique and Caunira, Anastasia Cousland, and the elf Ahria. Not to mention whoever he might have encountered when he was with the Dalish. Still, he did have her, Gilmore, and Daveth and that had to be worth something, right?

"You look familiar," the King said, eyeing Gilmore speculatively. "Have we met?"

"Only in passing, King Cailan," Gilmore replied. "I am Ser Gilmore, formerly a knight of Highever."

"Ah, yes, now I remember," the King – Cailan – said. "Speaking of, what ever is keeping Teyrn Cousland? Most of the Highever forces arrived a little while ago but the Teyrn is nowhere to be found."

Gilmore frowned. "He was planning on leaving when Arl Howe arrived. I can't imagine why he would send his men but not come himself."

"Fergus Cousland said that Arl Howe arrived ahead of his men who were delayed and so his father elected to remain at the castle until Howe's troops arrived. Strangely, Howe and his men are also absent," Cailan explained.

Gilmore bit his lip, looking worried. "That is very strange."

"We shall see what the problem was after we're finished up here, I suppose," Cailan declared, turning to Daveth. "And you are?"

"Daveth," he replied. "I'm not a fancy knight or anything, I just was lucky enough to try to cut Duncan's purse. The guards wanted to hang me."

"Really?" Cailan looked delighted. "That sounds like quite a story. It's good to know that not all of the Grey Wardens are going to act like stodgy priests."

"Although hopefully they can develop a priest-like disinclination to cut purses," Duncan spoke up.

Daveth shrugged. "No promises."

"And you," Cailan turned at last to Aunn. "You don't see many dwarves on the Surface although I understand they are expert darkspawn slayers. Are you from Orzammar, by any chance?"

"I am," Aunn confirmed. "In fact, I'm both. My name is Aunn."

"Are you really?" Cailan beamed. "How is King Endrin these days?"

Oh, wasn't that a loaded question. And were people really going to be asking her about him whenever they heard where she was from? "The last I heard my father was fine," she said diplomatically. There was really no need to share that inconveniencing little detail of her no longer existing in Orzammar, was there? Besides, from the impression Duncan had given her when he was explaining that as far as the Surface was concerned she was still an Aeducan (and thank the Ancestors for small mercies) and so she was perfectly correct in saying that her father was fine. Well, maybe 'fine' wasn't the right word. He had been distraught at the loss of Trian and at ordering her dragged through the city in chains (not that that had stopped him, of course) but health-wise he seemed okay.

"I should probably also add that I'm not a fancy princess, either," Daveth felt the need to inform them. "Although I was a queen once…long story and I really shouldn't have had that much to drink…"

"I've been to Orzammar once, you know, with my father," Cailan explained. "It must have been sixteen years ago, now. We stayed at the Palace. Was it possible that I met you then?"

Aunn thought back. It would be easier for her to remember a human boy then it was for him to remember an individual dwarf girl. "I think so," she said at last. "You threw a nug at my head so I sat on you for an hour." She had been seven and Cailan had been closer to Trian's age than hers but he had already decided that he didn't like Surfacers and Bhelen was only five – four years was an almost insurmountable age difference back then – so it was up to her to play with the human prince. It had surprisingly gone quite well after that bad first impression.

Cailan laughed. "I remember that! I still have a fear of being sat on although fortunately that isn't really the kind of things that normally happens to people."

"Well, I'm glad to see you weren't permanently scarred," Aunn replied.

"We'll have to catch up when this is over. I can have some dwarven ale brought ordered up. I've never tried it myself but I've heard it's fantastic," Cailan offered.

Aunn hid a smile. Who ever had told him that? All of the nobles imported their alcohol from the Surface anyway. If nothing else, there was less chance of Surface ale containing dirt. "I would like that," she said simply.

"Your new recruits are a lot more interesting than your other one," Cailan informed Duncan.

"I don't recruit based on how interesting they are, your majesty," Duncan pointed out.

"Well you should," Cailan sniffed. "Ah, well. It's not all bad. Now I'll have the might Duncan at my side as I ride into battle. If only…" he sighed.

"You sound disappointed, your majesty," Duncan noted.

"I had hoped for a glorious battle like in the stories," Cailan told them. "But we've won two victories against these monsters already and they were hardly difficult battles."

Aunn could certainly appreciate a proper longing for glory but wanting more darkspawn to attack? That didn't exactly sound like the most practical of desires. "I didn't realize things were going so well."

"To be honest, I'm not even sure this is a true Blight at all," Cailan confided. "There hasn't been a single sign of the Archdemon and if there is a Blight but we don't find the Archdemon then we won't be able to stop in here and just think of the damage it could do! I will not see Ferelden swallowed up by darkspawn like so many nations before it. They say the Anderfels still haven't recovered from their Blight and theirs was the first." He shook his head. "But I'd better get back before Loghain sends out a search party. It was nice meeting all of you and good luck."

"Good luck?" Aunn repeated, eyeing Duncan. "What did he mean by that?"

"I believe he is referring to the Joining," Duncan said shortly.

"What's that?" Aunn pressed.

"It is the ritual that will make you a Grey Warden," Duncan replied. "I cannot tell you anything more at the moment but if you'd like to proceed with the ritual then I'll need one of you to go find Ser Jory and one of you to find another Grey Warden by the name of Alistair."

"Not it," Daveth said immediately.

"I will go look for Jory," Gilmore volunteered. "I've met him before. Didn't we win a tournament at Highever a few weeks back?"

Duncan nodded. "Yes, and then I recruited him in Redcliffe."

"I suppose that leaves me to find this Alistair, then," Aunn realized. "What does he look like?"

Duncan thought about it for maybe half a second. "Like King Cailan except his hair is the same style and color as your younger brother's."

Aunn's eyes widened. "What? Oh joy…" So she was off looking for someone who looked like Bhelen. Well, and also Cailan but she had a better idea of what her brother looked like then a man she'd only me once since she was seven.

Aunn headed into the camp with everyone else, taking in the sights eagerly. There were brightly colored tents set up and so many humans! There were a few elves she saw although it seemed that she was the only dwarf in the immediate area. She was, sadly, starting to get used to that despite the fact this had never happened until a few weeks ago when she'd first stepped foot onto the Surface. There were mages with strange lights above them as they rocked back and forth with their arms waving through the air which was just about the strangest thing she'd seen in at least two days and she decided to move forward for a closer look.

"You shouldn't go near them," a voice to her left cautioned. "They're in the Fade and cannot be disturbed."

Aunn looked over to see a woman in mage robes with white hair pulled back in a short ponytail and a few wrinkles but with an overall reasonably youthful appearance. "What's the Fade?"

"Oh, what indeed?" the mage asked rhetorically.

"…Does this mean you're not going to tell me?" Aunn asked.

"No, I will," the mage assured her. "It's just difficult to explain. It is another realm that is a part of Thedas and yet separated by a Veil. Powerful spirits control certain sections of it and they can shape it as they will. All creatures except dwarves enter it when they sleep but only mages can do so awake and that requires lyrium."

"Interesting," Aunn remarked. "And that's what the lyrium is for?"

"Part of it," the mage agreed. "My name is Wynne and as you might be able to tell I'm a mage myself. I saw you walk in with Duncan so that would make you a new recruit?"

Aunn nodded. "Indeed. My name is Aunn and I'm looking for a Grey Warden by the name of Alistair. I don't suppose you've heard of him?"

"As it happens, I have," Wynne told her. "I respect the Grey Wardens a great deal and there aren't so many of you in Ferelden that I cannot keep track of those in the camp. I believe I saw him heading that way not too long ago."

Aunn looked in the direction Wynne was pointing. "Thank you."

She hurried along towards where her brother's look-alike was supposed to be but stopped upon coming across an angry-looking human berating a clearly cowed elf. The elf ran off soon enough and the human glanced her way.

"Greetings," he said politely.

Well…she certainly hadn't expected politeness from somebody who was just terrorizing someone a minute ago. Then again, hadn't people used to do that back in Orzammar? Berate a servant and then when she walked by were all smiles? Then again, she was their Princess and this human didn't know her. "Greetings," she returned. "Who are you?"

"My name is Clifton," the man introduced. "I am the leader of the Ash Warriors. Perhaps you've heard of our Order?"

Aunn frowned. It did sound vaguely familiar. "You…imitate the dwarven style of fighting, correct?"

Clifton nodded. "I wouldn't say 'imitate', exactly, but yes. We have adapted the way of the dwarven berserkers and have faithfully followed this path since Luthias the Dwarfson first harnessed your people's remarkable fighting style. This being Ferelden, of course, we've incorporated mabari. They're fierce fighters, let me assure you."

Luthias the Dwarfson. She'd certainly heard of him. Luthias was widely suspected to be half-dwarf, which was where he'd gotten his title from. He was a member of an ancient Ferelden tribe called the Alamarri. The tribe chief sent him to Orzammar to secure an alliance but Luthias was far more concerned with seducing the Princess Scaea and so never was able to work out a deal, especially after this outrage was discovered. Scaea abandoned House and caste for him and returned to his tribe. She taught him the way of the berserker, which it was said only his dwarven heritage allowed him to master. Even these human Ash Warriors couldn't really use the berserker fighting style but had to make do with an imitation.

Eventually, Luthias became the leader of his tribe and he was seduced by a rival tribe leader named Morrighan'nan. Scaea, naturally, refused to put up with that sort of thing and returned to Orzammar. The tales never mentioned the kind of reception she received but, King's daughter or not, she had journeyed to the Surface to stay willingly for the heart of a human so Aunn suspected it wasn't a welcome one. Morrighan'nan wanted to combine the tribes through marriage but Luthias refused and thus there was war. For fifteen years the war raged and eventually, Luthias inadvertently slew his own son by Morrighan'nan, which spurred her on towards victory. Luthias was pushed back to the Frostback Mountains and made his last stand there. Scaea heard he was there and offered him fine dwarven armor for one last night together. He consented and the next morning when he and Morrighan'nan fought, they killed each other, Scaea's offered armor 'inexplicably' unable to block Morrighan'nan's final blow.

Aunn thought it was clear what had happened. If the armor didn't perform the way it was supposed to then it was faulty – and one would think the Princess would have ensured that it wasn't if she truly wanted to preserve his life – or she had finally gotten her revenge. To abandon one's home to never be able to return for the sake of one man…more sentimental people might call it romantic. Aunn called it foolish and ancestors strike her down before she ever decided to do that. Not that she ever could, seeing as how she was cut off from her home already. No matter how foolish Scaea must have been, she had to have seen that she was wrong and that Luthias was not worth her sacrifice when she found him with his fellow barbarian. She had returned but she'd never be the same and people would always know that she'd chosen the Surface over them. She refused to believe that a dwarven princess could be so pathetic as to pine away for one cheating man for fifteen years as to want one more night in exchange for saving him, even if it was true. It was just too depressing. Making him believe that he was safe when he wasn't…if that battle hadn't killed him surely one would in the future and if he continued wearing that faulty armor…she would have had her revenge. It was what she herself would do, after all, had she ever been stupid enough to get into such a situation in the first place.

There was a reason that her version of being sentimental pretty much meant 'not wanting her father or brothers to die.' And look how well that had turned out. Now Trian was dead, her father believed her to be a Kinslayer, and she couldn't decide one way or another about Bhelen. Sure it wasn't personal but she didn't appreciate being exiled, either. If she'd been willing to kill Trian or – more to the point – Bhelen then all of this could have been avoided. Everyone had their faults, she supposed.

"I saw a mabari in action up in Highever," Aunn told the human before her. "For some reason it was named Rabbit but it appeared to be a warrior."

"They truly are," Clifton said fondly, eyeing the nearest mabari. "Nothing like the pets nobles sometimes have."

"Hardly," Aunn agreed. "Thank you for telling me about your order though I really must go."

As Aunn continued on her way, she decided that it was nice to see some humans appreciating the dwarven fighting style (even if she didn't like how they had learned it) since most people seemed to be under the impression that hers was a race of merely smiths and merchants when that was hardly the case at all. She supposed it was understandable given the lack of information Surfacers had on dwarves (it really worked both ways, though, as she was coming to realize more and more) and the fact that most of the dwarves they encountered were merchants or smiths, but it was still beginning to frustrate her.

Aunn made her way up a large ramp and walked right into some sort of argument.

A man in mage's robes was saying, "Your glibness does you no credit."

"And here I thought we were getting along so well," snarked a human who looked remarkably like both Cailan and her younger brother. This must be Alistair then. "I was going to name one of my children after you. The grumpy one." As the mage stormed off angrily, he turned to her. "That's one good thing about a Blight, really brings people together."

"So I see," Aunn remarked.

"You're not another mage are you," Alistair asked, frowning a little in half-serious concern.

Aunn simply stared at him. "You're asking me if I'm a mage? Shouldn't the fact that I'm a dwarf make that clear? Or can't you distinguish between races?"

"Oh no, I can," Alistair assured her. "Well…usually, at any rate. You never know with mages, though. They can be very tricky."

"Apparently," Aunn said skeptically. "You're Alistair?"

Alistair nodded. "Indeed I am. And who are…no, wait, I do know who you are. Terrowin told me they'd recruited a dwarven Grey Warden back in Orzammar and from the description and the stunning lack of any other dwarves around, I'm guessing that's you. Your name was On, was it?"

"My name is not 'On'," Aunn said indignantly. "It's Aunn. Awe-nn."

"Sorry," Alistair said, a little sheepishly. "I thought On was a strange name but then you're a dwarf from Orzammar so chances are you'd have a name I thought was weird anyway and…I should stop talking now, shouldn't I?"

"Probably," Aunn agreed.

"I normally don't babble this much but you keep staring at me and it's making me uncomfortable," Alistair explained.

"Am I?" Aunn asked, hardly aware she'd been doing it. "My apologies. You just look strangely like my brother."

"Is that so?" Alistair asked, intrigued. "So am I making you homesick or something?"

"I'm not sure 'homesick' is the right word," Aunn said delicately. "But never mind that. What was that about, earlier? We're not going to have problems with mages, are we?"

"By 'we' you mean the Grey Wardens?" Alistair asked. "Oh, no. I was just delivering a message from the Revered Mother. Of course, since I'm a former Templar it made things a bit awkward…"

"So you were a mage-hunter?" Aunn asked, pleased that she didn't need to ask. "That would be awkward."

"I wouldn't have even done it but Duncan said we all had to try to get along," Alistair claimed. He shook his head. "I guess nobody told them. Speaking of, did he send you to look for me?"

Aunn nodded. "Yes. He said that we needed to have you at hand for the Joining."

Alistair groaned. "I hate the Joining."

"And I hate vague ominous statements like that about things I don't know anything about," Aunn replied.

"Well, the sooner we get back the sooner we can be done with both," Alistair told her. "So shall we?"

The pair began to make their way back to where Duncan was waiting for them. They were waylaid, however, by the kennel master.

"Ho, you two are Grey Wardens, aren't you?" he asked hopefully.

Technically, only Alistair was a Grey Warden and she still needed to go through this mysterious 'Joining' she'd heard so little about but why quibble over semantics? This wasn't the Assembly, after all. "We are," she confirmed.

"Can one of you do me a favor, then? There's this dog, you see, whose master was killed in the Korcari Wilds," the kennel master explained. "He survived but he ingested too much darkspawn blood and now he's sick. I want to help him, but I can't get near him without risking getting bitten. Since Grey Wardens are immune to the taint, could you put a muzzle on him for me? I won't be able to treat him otherwise."

Since the Joining was what presumably made Grey Wardens immune to the taint, Aunn looked to Alistair.

"Oh, no, not me," Alistair said quickly. "I'd love to help but I'm not good with dogs. Like, really not good. He'd probably end up escaping the kennel and going on a mad biting rampage if I went anywhere near him."

"I suppose I'll have to do it, then," Aunn decided. If she got bitten she'd still become immune to the taint soon enough so she'd probably be fine and putting a muzzle on a dog so it wouldn't die was such a minor inconvenience she didn't see a reason not to comply.

"You will?" the kennel master looked thrilled. He hurriedly retrieved the muzzle and handed it to her. "That's fantastic."

Aunn opened the gate and stepped inside to face the contaminated mabari. He had been isolated so as not to infect the other dogs so it was just the two of them. As she carefully approached the dog, he looked at her with solemn, wounded eyes. Aunn had very little personal experience with animals – she had had five cats when she was younger but that hadn't ended well – but it stood to reason that moving slowly so as not to startle the thing and have it lash out at her was the best move. The dog cocked its head curiously at her as she put the muzzle on, but it didn't attack or try to flee.

Mission accomplished.

Triumphantly, she returned to Alistair and the kennel master.

"Thank you so much," the kennel master enthused. "Now I'll be able to treat him…I'm not sure how much good it will do, though, as he's still contaminated by the taint. I did hear of a rare flower that can cure mabari of the taint but the only place it's found around here is the Korcari Wilds, which no one can get into."

"We're going into the Korcari Wilds," Alistair revealed. "If you describe this flower, we'll be sure to keep an eye out for it."

"It's a white flower with a red center," the kennel master described. "If you find it, I'll be sure to reward you for it."

Money. That was something Aunn was sorely and embarrassingly lacking. She'd have to keep an eye out for this flower, then. While she would undoubtedly be keeping the fine dwarven blade and shield Harrowmont had provided for her out of – dare she say it – sentiment since they were the only mementos of home she had, she could do with a more powerful weapon if she could find it and some healing supplies would not be unwelcome, either.

As they walked past the tents of the important, a dark-haired scowling man in shining silver armor game storming out of one of them and nearly knocked her over. Fortunately, he stopped just in time because had he actually done that Aunn was afraid that she'd be morally obligated to hate him forever.

"You're that new Grey Warden Cailan was telling me about earlier, aren't you?" the man asked, peering closely at her. He seemed to be avoiding looking at Alistair altogether. "The dwarven princess. Aunn, was it?"

"I am," Aunn confirmed. "You have me at a disadvantage."

"I am Teyrn Loghain Mac Tir," Loghain introduced himself. "You gave Cailan quite a few issues once he returned from Orzammar."

There was really only one thing she could say to that. "He started it."

Loghain looked slightly amused. "That I can certainly believe. He was certainly a rambunctious child. I must say, it is a little strange that the dwarves would allow a princess to join the Grey Wardens. Cailan, for all his childhood fascination, was never allowed to become one."

Well, they hadn't, exactly. They were mostly happy thinking she was dead and if they were all lucky they would never hear otherwise. And she was an exiled princess so that really wasn't the same thing. Still, she was determined to stick to her policy of only telling people about that on a need-to-know basis. "My people understand what a threat the darkspawn are to us all and if there is a chance that this is a Blight we're not taking any chances."

"Neither is Cailan, which is why we're all here," Loghain replied. "Tell me something, Aunn: are you aware that Cailan's father was the one to bring your Order back to Ferelden?"

"I must confess that I was not aware that it was exiled from the land," Aunn replied. "Orzammar doesn't have much interest in Surface matters, I'm sure you understand."

"Just as well," Loghain declared. "It makes it easier to coexist. Maric had a great respect for your Order and the role they play in defeating Blights but Cailan's more interested in legends and stories. Pay that he proves more amenable to wisdom when I finally mange to track him down."

Aunn wasn't entirely sure she wanted to know, but… "And if he doesn't?"

"Then simply pray," Loghain advised before taking his leave of them.

"Teyrn Loghain is a great hero and if anyone can lead us to victory he can," Alistair said thoughtfully, frowning as they continued walking. "I really don't like how dismissive he seems of the King, however."

"Neither do I, to be honest," Aunn confessed. "He may very well be a fool, I haven't seen enough of him to judge, but that's not the kind of thing one should be spouting off to those he's just met. It's hardly appropriate and only encourages others to disrespect the King. Why didn't he acknowledge your presence, I wonder? He had plenty to say to me and you're the actual Grey Warden here."

"Oh, who knows," Alistair said, not quite meeting her eyes. Aunn supposed that that meant that he did but if he didn't want to talk about it right now that was fine with her. She couldn't expect him to start sharing his secrets if she wouldn't admit to hers.

Once they'd finally made it back to Duncan, Gilmore had returned with a twitchy-looking man with a sad excuse for a beard. So this was Jory, then? Honestly, didn't humans know anything about growing proper facial hair? The only one she'd seen that didn't irritate her was Duncan's.

"I don't like this," Jory was saying. "All this secrecy…"

"Oh, get over yourself," Daveth ordered. "We'll find out soon enough."

"I agree," Gilmore spoke up.

"With me or with him?" Daveth wanted to know.

"With you," Gilmore clarified. "If we want to be wardens then we'll need to go through this 'Joining', that much is clear even if precious little else is. As a Knight, you had to follow orders you didn't always understand or agree with, no?"

"I did," Jory agreed. "But I've never been asked to venture alone into a witch and darkspawn-infested wild before."

"How did you know that we're going to be heading into the Korcari Wilds?" Alistair asked curiously.

Daveth laughed. "Please. Aunn was gone for at least twenty minutes. How could I not have heard about it?"

"You weren't supposed to know about that ahead of time but since it was so close to you actually being sent into the Wilds then there is no harm done," Duncan rebuked mildly. "Now that everyone's here I can tell you what you'll be searching for. We'll need four vials of darkspawn blood for the Joining and that is your first priority. I would also like you to be on the lookout for a cache in the remains of an old Grey Warden fortress. They contain treaties obliging the mages, the Dalish elves, and the dwarves to aid us in the event of a Blight. They were mere formalities when they were signed but now I fear we will have to call upon them if the darkspawn are not stopped here."

"I've seen a copy of the treaty in the Shaperate," Aunn spoke up. "If Grey Wardens brought their treaty to Orzammar then the King would send aid."

"What's a Shaperate?" Gilmore asked.

"It's…the Shaperate is where the scholars work and all of our records are preserved," Aunn explained quickly.

"Excellent," Duncan agreed. "And I have no doubt the mages would also consent to aid us. The Dalish may be tricky to convince but if we need to use these treaties we'll simply have to find a way."



"I don't like this," Jory was saying once again two hours later when they were deep inside the Korcari Wilds.

"Really?" Daveth asked, sounding surprised. "I really had no idea from the last seventeen times you said that exact thing and fourteen times you said a variant of it."

"You've been keeping track?" Aunn asked, somewhat surprised.

He shrugged at her. "Why not? It's not like the scenery is riveting or anything and we've already got the blood."

"Daveth's right," Gilmore declared. "And we've been walking for awhile so we should stumble across those treaties soon."

"Or we could we walking around in circles," Jory pointed out.

"Not much chance of that," Daveth said cheerfully. "Seeing as how Aunn keeps finding new chests to break into and commandeer the contents of."

It was true; Aunn had been grabbing everything in sight and looting all of the corpses they'd come across or created and the packs Gilmore, Jory, and Alistair had brought were stuffed with the contents. "I needed the money!" she defended.

"Now there's a girl after my own heart," Daveth laughed. "Marry me?"

Aunn rolled her eyes. "Maybe later."

"I don't see how you two can joke around at a time like this," Jory grumbled. "Or was I the only one to hear that soldier when he told us that his entire patrol had been wiped out?"

"No, we heard you," Gilmore assured him. "But Alistair can sense darkspawn, remember? We haven't been snuck up on once even with all the darkspawn attacking us."

"Let's talk about something more cheery than getting eaten by darkspawn," Alistair suggested. "Like Duncan! Why don't you all tell me what you think of Duncan?"

"He seems a decent enough fellow," Daveth replied. "Said I actually remind him a little of himself so who know? I may end up Warden-Commander one day."

"I should hope not!" Jory muttered. "He seems like an honorable man that accepts nothing but the best. It was difficult to impress him and I don't like all the secrets, but I am confident that once I am a Warden I shall understand all of this."

" 'Difficult to impress', huh?" Daveth asked quietly. "Remind me not to mention how I was recruited…"

"Right," Gilmore said quickly. "I understand that being a Warden isn't all about honor and glory – although there is plenty of that afforded to the Order – and that they must do whatever is necessary to stop the Blight. I hope to live up to Duncan's example."

Everyone turned to look at Aunn expectantly. Well, if Alistair wanted to talk about more pleasant subjects than getting eaten by darkspawn and she wanted to not tell people about her history then she'd best not mention how grateful she was to him for saving her. "He seems like a firm man, but fair," she opined. "He's certainly been very helpful over the past few weeks in helping me familiarize myself with the Surface."

"You needed to familiarize yourself with the surface?" Jory asked curiously. "Does that mean that you used to live underground?"

Aunn felt that was kind of a stupid question since if she hadn't lived above ground she would have had to have lived below it but she nodded anyway. "I am from Orzammar, yes."

Jory frowned, puzzled. "Why?"

" 'Why'?" Aunn echoed. "What do you mean 'why'? I suppose because my parents lived there and I was born underground. It's not a bad place to live, you know."

"But weren't you afraid of all that dirt collapsing in and crushing you all? I mean, part of Orzammar is under the Frostback Mountains, right?" Jory looked ill at the thought.

"Why would we worry about such a thing?" Aunn answered his question with own of her own. "We trusted in our construction and it hasn't failed us yet. And if you're so worried about being crushed to death then why do you live in buildings? The roof can fall down and kill you just as easily as any mountain."

"I never thought of that…" Jory said, his eyes widening.

"I think we've found the cache," Alistair announced.

lancing away from her semi-argument with Jory, Aunn saw that they had walked into what appeared to be the ruins of some great fortress. A chest was plainly visible on the ground a few feet away. Was that where the treaties were?

Gilmore approached the chest. "I don't see anything in here," he announced. "Although if we really wanted to take the chest back with us I'm sure we could get a few silvers for that."

Aunn narrowed her eyes. Just because she was sick and tired of not having any money and thus hadn't been able to afford a backpack of her own was no reason to make fun of her. "Are you offering?"

"Well-" Gilmore started to say.

"My, my, what have we here?" a voice from the ruins asked, sounding amused. "Scavengers? Or maybe thieves? Are you going to tell me or am I going to have to guess?"

Aunn looked over to see a human woman with black hair pulled back from her face and a shirt that left little if anything to the imagination.

"Is it just me or was she not there just two seconds ago?" Gilmore asked.

"I know what you are," Daveth exclaimed, sounding vaguely frightened. "You're a witch of the wild!"

"A 'witch of the wild'," the women repeated, sounding slightly annoyed. "How original. You're afraid that I'm going to swoop down and attack you?"

"Yeah," Alistair deadpanned. "Swooping is bad."

"We're not scavengers or thieves!" Jory declared indignantly. "Well…except Daveth. We're Grey Wardens and this used to be our tower. We're looking for the treaties that were here."

" 'Used to be', indeed," the woman agreed. "For it clearly has since been reclaimed by nature. The treaties you seek are no longer here."

"No longer here?" Alistair demanded. "You stole them didn't you, you…sneaky…witch thief!"

"Not for nothing, Alistair, but maybe you should leave the insults to someone else," Gilmore suggested tactfully.

" 'Twas not I that took them. 'Twas my mother," the woman explained.

"Can you take us to her then?" Aunn asked.

"Finally! A sensible question," the woman exclaimed. "I shall do this, as soon as the introductions are out of the way. Tell me your name and I shall tell you mine."

"I'm Daveth," Daveth said reluctantly.

"Ser Jory."

"Ser Gilmore."

"Alistair," Alistair bit out.

"My name is Aunn," Aunn introduced. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Now that is a proper, civil greeting," the woman sounded pleased. "Not at all like your gauche companions. You may call me Morrigan. Now, if you wish to see the treaties my mother has preserved, then I would suggest that you follow me…"

Morrigan? That sounded a great deal like Morrighan'nan. It was a coincidence that meant nothing, of course, but just the same she would do well to be on the lookout for any babies should someone she was travelling with have a one-night stand with her lest a warrior be born from the union and come back to cause problems years in the future. At least, as a female herself, she wouldn't need to worry about it being her child.



The six had been walking for perhaps fifteen minutes when they stopped in front of a hut with an old woman bearing a strong resemblance to Morrigan.

"Greetings, mother," Morrigan said with a long-suffering sigh. "I bring before you five Grey Wardens who-"

"I'm not blind, girl," Morrigan's mother interrupted. "Ah, so you've come for the treaties, then."

"And yet another one!" Daveth moaned. "And this one's really old…I bet it's Flemeth…"

"That's just a legend," Gilmore declared.

"Quiet, you two!" Jory shushed. "If she really is a witch then we don't want to get on her bad side."

The old woman laughed. "Now there's a smart lad. Sadly irrelevant in the larger scheme of things but it is not I who decides these things."

Jory frowned at the old woman's assertion that he didn't matter.

"You stole the treaties!" Alistair accused.

"I hardly 'stole' them, boy, as no one was there to claim them," Morrigan's mother scoffed. "The magic that protected them wore off quite some time ago and I have been protecting them."

"How could you…wait, you did? Oh, well, why?" Alistair managed to ask.

The old woman chuckled. "Oh, why not? And what of you, girl? You haven't said anything yet. Does your woman's mind give you a different perspective? Or what about your dwarven mind?"

Aunn hesitated. "I reserve the right to withhold my judgment until I know more."

"There's another smart one," the old woman said approvingly. "And fortunately relevant this time, too. If only the other were not such a fool…but no matter. I did protect these treaties and now I will give them back to you. Go tell your King and your fellow Wardens that this Blight is greater than they realize."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jory asked, looking confused.

Another stupid question from the Redcliffe Knight's corner. How had Duncan thought he'd make a good recruit again? Then again, given what she'd seen of his recruitment practices the man really wasn't all that picky. Obviously what she meant was that they were underestimating the Blight and since they weren't even sure that there was a Blight that was hardly a surprise. If things were really going to go as well as they seemed to think then why were there so many darkspawn stragglers in the Wilds?

"Either the Blight is more or they expect less," the old woman answered cryptically. She disappeared into her hut for a moment before returning with the treaties and handing them to Alistair.

"Thank you for returning these," Aunn told her.

Morrigan's mothers laughed. "Such manners! Always in the last place you'd expect. Much like stockings…"

Okay, seriously; what was wrong with this country that basic politeness was regarded as such an oddity? She couldn't help the way she'd been raised and in Orzammar if she were openly rude all the time then people would, at best, simply dislike her (like Trian) or at worst decide to murder her (also, ironically enough, like Trian).

"If you have what you came for then I'm sure you can show yourselves out," Morrigan said brusquely, evidently eager to see the back of them.

"Don't be absurd, Morrigan. Surely you can see our guests out," her mother reproached her.

Morrigan sighed. "Very well, follow me…"



After they all returned to camp, the first place they headed was to the quartermaster. Aunn actually would have been fine with undergoing this mysterious Joining first but was overruled by the three men who wanted their pack space back.

Once Aunn had sold everything, she bought a backpack of her own and a few healing poultices. She still had a few sovereigns left over anyway which made her think that there might be something to this 'looting everything' approach after all. If there was one thing these past few weeks on the Surface with no money had taught her it was that she really didn't know how to be poor. It wasn't that she was wasteful or anything; she simply expected that she would always the money for what she wanted to buy and in order to be sure to have money for the important things she'd need a source of income. And speaking of income…

"Oh, you found the flower!" the kennel master cried out. "I am so grateful to you for this. I've been able to treat that mabari since you muzzled him for me earlier but his condition wasn't improving. Tell you what, how about after the battle is over you come back and we can see about getting him imprinted to you."

"Can you really just decide to imprint him onto someone just like that?" Aunn asked a little skeptically.

"We don't get to choose who he imprints on, no," the kennel master responded. "But his previous master is dead and he seems to like you well enough so what's the harm in trying? You were the one who saved him – twice actually – and so you stand a better chance than anyone else here by my estimation."

"You know, he kind of reminds me of Rabbit," Gilmore remarked as they made their way back to Duncan. "Except Rabbit was a girl mabari."

"You never did tell me why Anastasia Cousland named it that," Aunn hinted. "I mean, it's not a rabbit, it's a dog."

Gilmore smiled mysteriously. "Oh, that's quite a long story and I swore to take it with me to my grave…But I'll tell you what, we both survive this upcoming battle and I'll think about telling you anyway." He sobered. "I really hope she's okay. I can't imagine what's keeping the Teyrn…"

"Ah, you've returned," Duncan greeted them. "Did you find the treaties?"

"We did," Alistair confirmed, holding them out to Duncan.

"No, you hold onto them for now," Duncan told him. "And I trust you each have a vial of blood?"

Alistair nodded. "There is something you should probably know about. The treaties had been taken out of the cache and were in the hands of two apostates-"

"Do try and remember, Alistair, that Chantry business is not Grey Warden business," Duncan instructed.

Alistair inclined his head. "Yes, Duncan," he said obediently.

"Come. It is time for the Joining ritual and that is best done away from prying eyes," Duncan informed them before striding purposely towards a pre-selected and isolated area of the camp.

"What do you think we're going to be doing with the darkspawn blood?" Jory wondered as they followed him.

"Drink it, probably," Daveth responded, his confidence returned now that he was away from Morrigan and her mother. Aunn was pretty sure he had mentioned growing up near here and hearing stories of how Flemeth would come and eat naughty children whenever he misbehaved – which was probably quite often – and so that might explain his attitude. Or maybe it was just his troublesome lack of resistance to magic that rendered him more fearful than she was.

"Drink it?" Jory yelped.

"Well, yeah. I mean, why else do we all need a vial?" Daveth asked reasonably. Sure enough, once they stopped in front of a table with a large silver chalice on it, Alistair poured the blood into it and swirled it around a little.

Duncan picked up the chalice. "We speak only a few words prior to the Joining. But these words have been said since the first. Alistair, if you would?"

Alistair cleared his throat. "Join us, brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten... and that one day, we shall join you," he said in his best official-sounding voice.

"Step forward, Ser Gilmore," Duncan instructed.

Gilmore promptly stepped forward and took the chalice. He didn't hesitate as he took a sip. When his eyes started to turn white, Duncan quickly took the chalice back just in time for Gilmore to collapse on the floor.

"Were his eyes supposed to do that?" Jory demanded. "Is he alright? Is he even still alive?"

Duncan knelt down to check his pulse. "He is alive," he confirmed. "And he will awaken shortly. Step forward, Daveth."

Daveth took the cup and drank from it just as boldly as Gilmore had. It was clear that something was wrong almost instantly as the thief started to choke. Duncan removed the chalice from his hands and watched as Daveth collapsed on the floor. Duncan checked for a pulse and then shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry, Daveth. Step forward, Ser Jory."

But Jory was shaking his head and backing up. "No…there is nothing glorious about this. Daveth's dead and who even knows what happened to Gilmore. I won't do it. You can't make me!"

Duncan advanced on Jory with the chalice, a dead look on his face.

Jory continued backing up until he hit a pillar, and then he shakily drew his sword. "No."

Duncan drew his own weapon and promptly gutted the would-be Warden. "I'm sorry, Jory," he apologized as Jory died. "Step forward, Aunn."

Aunn swallowed. Well, the odds weren't the best, were they? Gilmore unconscious and who knows how else affected, Daveth dead from the drink, and Jory dead from the refusal. Even if she hadn't known that drinking this strange concoction was her only hope of survival, Aunn would have done it anyway. The old woman was more than she appeared and she was yet one more person to insist that a Blight was coming. Orzammar may have forgotten her but she would still do what it took to protect it. Not to mention that her life should have ended weeks ago alone in the Deep Roads. At this point, she was already living on borrowed time so what did she have to lose?

Aunn lifted the chalice to her lips and drank.

It was the most disgusting concoction she had ever had the misfortune of drinking, and she had tried dwarven ale before. That was to be expected, however, for the mixture contained darkspawn blood along with ancestor's knew what else. For a moment, it was as if nothing happened and she vaguely wondered if she had done something wrong. Then the pain hit. It was like nothing she had ever felt before. It was as if her very blood were burning her alive and she couldn't see anything but flashes of a giant creature – a dragon, her scattered mind supplied vaguely – and her mouth and throat felt like she'd swallowed acid instead of whatever it was she had drank.

Then she fell.



The first thing Aunn heard before she opened her eyes was Gilmore saying, "I still can't believed you killed Ser Jory!"

"The moment he drew his sword, his fate was sealed," Duncan said gravely. "I had no choice."

Aunn blearily opened her eyes and saw Alistair leaning over her. "Aunn's awake," he announced, standing back up.

'No choice', huh? Didn't that sound like an excuse. Jory could barely hold the sword still he was shaking so heavily. Then again, given that Jory clearly wasn't Warden material at that point then had he survived the Joining he would be more of a liability than an asset, something that didn't surprise her in the slightest. And what were the odds he'd keep the Joining ritual the secret it apparently needed to be? Gilmore seemed bothered by Jory's execution but even though Aunn had actually seen it and Gilmore hadn't, she really didn't care. It had to be done, after all. Wardens did what they had to to stop the Blight and if Jory had tried to pull such a thing upon, say, joining the Legion of the Dead then they would kill him just as readily.

"Good, you're awake," Duncan told her. "You may take some time to recover but then I need you and Gilmore to join me at the King's strategy meeting. Alistair, I trust you can clean up and craft our newest Wardens amulets?"

Alistair nodded. "Of course, Duncan. And congratulations, you two. Be proud of getting this far."

So she was a Grey Warden now. She'd really need to ask what exactly the Joining did to her and if it would have any side-effects later on but for now she was just content to know that against all odds she was living out her childhood dream.

[Sarah1281]

Chapter Six: Deciding on the Grey Wardens' Image

Cailan and Loghain were already arguing by the time Duncan, Aunn, and Gilmore arrived at the strategy meeting.

"You can't just ride out into battle with your troops," Loghain was insisting. "You're the King and you have no heir! You have responsibilities."

"I understand that," Cailan said exasperatedly. "Honestly, you sound like Eamon. I fully realize that my death would not be an optimum outcome but I still feel that the morale boost will make the gamble worth it. If it comes to it, I have no doubt that Anora – your daughter – can rule until a Landsmeet is called and my successor chosen."

"Very well, Cailan," Loghain agreed reluctantly. "But should we all survive this, you're going to need to name a successor in the event that you sire no heirs, particularly if you are going to pull such ridiculous stunts."

"It is not a ridiculous stunt," Cailan argued. "Your suggestion has merit, though, and I will look into doing that on my return. In the meantime…what would you have me do, Loghain? We can't just ignore the horde here. If we don't stop it now it will ravage the countryside. Ferelden is not prepared to deal with an all-out Blight! If you're sure that we need more men then I'm sure the Orlesians would be eager to learn that we apparently have time to wait for them after all."

"If you simply wanted to accept aid from the Orlesian Grey Wardens that would be one thing," Loghain said slowly. "But you would have us accept four legions of chevaliers into our boarders! Do you have so little respect for what your parents and I went through to force these people to leave just a few short decades ago that you'd so gladly welcome them back?"

"Our arguments with the Orlesians are a thing of the past," Cailan declared. "The Empress isn't an unreasonable sort and the chevaliers would be a great help against the darkspawn."

"She might not be 'unreasonable' and she might even help drive back the darkspawn but do you really think that it would be 'unreasonable' from her perspective for her forces to stay and re-conquer our hard-won sovereign state once the Blight is defeated?" Loghain demanded. "It's not like this would be the first time the Orlesians pulled something like that either or have you forgotten how the Orlesians and Tevinters divided up the territory they had saved once they ended the Third Blight?"

"Times have changed," Cailan insisted. "Empress Celene has no interest in retaking Ferelden. And say what you will about the morality of the chevaliers but they certainly know their way around a battlefield."

"You know nothing of what they are capable of," Loghain growled.

"That's quite enough," Cailan said sharply. "We can argue foreign policy another time. You will do well to remember who is King."

Loghain nodded slowly. "Very well. There is the matter of the beacon that still needs to be addressed. My men and I will charge once the beacon is lit. The mages were going to light the beacon with magic and make our lives ever so much easier but the Revered Mother has issues with that."

"I should say so!" an old woman garbed in what Aunn vaguely recognized were chantry robes sniffed. "We cannot trust these mages with something so important. It's bad enough that they're playing as pivotal a part in the battle plan as they are."

"What's the point in us even being here if we're not to be allowed to do anything?" a mage complained. "Honestly, it's 'magic exists to serve man' not 'magic exists to be completely ignored by him.'"

"Mages are certainly a valued part of our efforts here at Ostagar, Uldred," Cailan was quick to assure the mage. "But just the same, there are so few of you here that I'm not certain we can afford to waste your talents. Instead, why not send the Grey Wardens?"

"The Grey Wardens?" Loghain burst out. "Surely there are not so many of them that you can afford to waste their talents?"

"Well, there are more than seven," Cailan reasoned. He turned to the Grey Wardens present at the meeting and frowned. "You two are the recruits I met on the road, Ser Gilmore and Princess Aunn. Where are Daveth and the boring recruit?"

"Dead, your majesty," Duncan said delicately.

Cailan winced. "Too bad. I quite liked Daveth. Still, congratulations on becoming Wardens, you two."

"Thank you, your majesty," Aunn said diplomatically. Gilmore quickly echoed her sentiments.

"Let's see, we can have Aunn light the beacon because she's new to the Wardens and how about Alistair, as well?" Cailan suggested.

"With all due respect, your majesty," Gilmore said, looking puzzled. "If you need two Wardens to light the beacon then I am also a new recruit while Alistair has several months of experience."

"Ah, but you're a knight of Highever," Cailan pointed out. "If it weren't for the fact you became a Grey Warden then you would already be in the battle. I know you'll handle yourself just fine out there."

"Are you so sure you can trust these mages?" the Revered Mother started up again.

Well, it looked like this meeting would be taking awhile.



"What do you mean I'm not going to be in the battle?" Alistair cried an hour and a half later once the meeting had finally concluded. It had taken Cailan forever to talk down the Revered Mother but his persistent friendliness had eventually worn her down. "You never let me fight!"

"This wasn't my decision, Alistair," Duncan said patiently. "It is at the King's personal request that you light the Beacon."

"I'm not going to be in the battle, either," Aunn reminded him.

"No, but he is," Alistair said, gesturing towards Gilmore. He sighed. "I suppose that the only thing more ridiculous than having two Grey Wardens holding a torch would be to have three Grey Wardens doing it. But still, if the new recruits are being kept out of the battle, fine. Let them be kept out. But between me and Gilmore, I'm the senior Warden."

"That may be so but we cannot go against the King's request," Duncan said again. "Remember, much of our effectiveness in Ferelden depends upon his good will."

"Oh, alright," Alistair sighed again. "But just so you know, if the King asks me to put on a dress and dance the remigold, I'm drawing the line."

Aunn shrugged. "Better you than me. I don't even know that dance."

Alistair grinned at her. "Well, if it's for your sake, maybe. It would have to be a pretty dress, though…"

"Well naturally," Gilmore deadpanned. "Otherwise the whole thing would just be ridiculous."

Duncan rubbed his forehead in exasperation.



Aunn and Alistair had just reached the Tower of Ishal when a mage and a tower guard came running out of it.

"Help!" the mage cried out. "The Tower is crawling with darkspawn!"

Aunn briefly wondered what one of the only seven mages was even doing in the Tower since the King had made it more than clear that they weren't to waste their magic on the supposedly simple task of lighting the beacon. Still, she didn't have time to dwell on it. She had been in combat situations before and, in fact, she'd always loved going down to the Deep Roads and taking down every darkspawn she could see. Just the same, she'd never been involved in a conflict this large, even if technically she wasn't supposed to be participating. Looks like that plan went right out the window.

The mage and the tower guard joined them as they cleared the first floor, then the second, then the third.

"What's going on here?" Alistair demanded when the last of the darkspawn on the third floor had been killed. "There aren't supposed to be any darkspawn here and we've encountered several dozen!"

"I don't know," Aunn replied. "But we are so late it's not even funny. We don't even know if lighting the beacon will do any good at this point."

"Neither do I," Alistair said grimly. "But we have to try. If it's too late then us lighting it won't do any harm and I'm not ready to just write off Ostagar. Not yet."

Aunn nodded. "Agreed. There's not much point in us clearing the tower unless we manage to get the beacon lit."

Unfortunately, this proved easier said than done as there was an ogre waiting for them at the top of the stairs.

"Oh, this had better be worth it," Alistair said, narrowing his eyes.

That fight was fun. The tower guard was mostly useless and Aunn herself was picked up by the ogre who attempted to crush her – and he would go for the smallest member of the party – but once she had cut his fingers off to free herself and the mage decided to freeze the creature the tide had officially turned. Alistair landed the killing blow and he made a far bigger production of it then was prudent, especially given the time constraints. She hadn't even taken the time to collect more things to sell. Was it really necessary to jump up so he was eye-level with the ogre before killing it? Really? There wasn't even any he needed to show off in front of, either.

"Okay, we've got to hurry," Alistair said once he was done playing epic hero. "Hopefully this will be in time for Loghain to make a difference with his charge."

Aunn lit the beacon and watched everything light up. "Now what?"

Alistair tapped his chin. "You know, I really don't know. Duncan said we weren't supposed to join in the battle afterwards. I guess we just wait here then."

"Until the battle is over?" Aunn asked skeptically. "That could take hours!"

"Well if you have a better plan-" Alistair cut off as he watched an arrow pierce his fellow Warden's armor. "I guess they have a better plan."

This was bad. This was very, very bad. Aunn knew better than to charge the plethora of darkspawn that had suddenly crowded the door but the odds of her getting out of here…well, she would have probably stood a better chance back in the Deep Roads without Duncan. Was she really going to die here, now, only a few short hours of becoming a Grey Warden?

The pain in her shoulder was easy to ignore as she tried not to panic. Panicking never helped but she really couldn't think of anything that would. Crouching behind the falling ogre kept her conscious as first the guard, then the mage, and finally Alistair fell. The easier targets were gone but she still remained so the arrows began to fly her way again and the ogre could not stop all of them.

Once she'd been hit with so many she was on the brink of losing consciousness, she saw something moving out of the corner of her eye. Glancing weakly towards the window, she thought she saw a dragon. But how? This couldn't be the Archdemon she saw in her dream; it simply wasn't big enough.

Another arrow struck her in the stomach and she gave up the fight for consciousness.



Aunn's eyes snapped open. She didn't recognize her surroundings, which was never a good thing. She was also no longer wounded, which probably was. The last thing she could remember was a dragon showing up right as she was about to be killed by darkspawn. It would appear that that hadn't happened, then. But what had?

"Ah, 'twould appear that you're awake at last," a voice said. Aunn looked over to see the girl she'd met…however long ago she'd recovered the treaties.

"Morrigan?" Aunn asked uncertainly. "Does this mean that I'm in the Korcari Wilds?"

Morrigan looked pleased that she had remembered her. "It does indeed. Mother found you and your friend and healed you both. You were worse off than he and were out for nearly two weeks whereas your friend has been sulking for several days. 'Twas very tiresome. 'Oh, you saved the wrong Wardens', he kept wailing. 'You should have let us die and saved Duncan instead.' I suppose that might be being a little hard on him given he's apparently lost a great deal, but there you have it."

Aunn narrowed her eyes. Alistair would rather she be dead because she wasn't the 'right' Warden? It was all well and good if he was wishing Duncan had been saved in place of him – he was upset, after all – but why throw her into the deal? She certainly didn't appreciate that. For of course it was Alistair. He had been the only other Warden with her. And was she going to be expected to comfort him or something? What did she know about comforting? She honestly wasn't sure if she'd ever comforted anyone. EVER. And wow, that kind of made her sound like a horrible person, didn't it?

"How did your mother manage to get to us?" she wondered. "We were on the top of a Tower swarming with darkspawn."

Morrigan simply shrugged. "She turned into a giant bird, or so she claims."

"Could it have been a dragon?" Aunn asked eagerly. "I'm pretty sure I saw a dragon before I lost consciousness."

"It may have been," Morrigan replied.

"That…is…so…amazing!" Aunn exclaimed. "I wish I could turn into a dragon."

"Why?" Morrigan asked curiously.

"Because it's a dragon," Aunn said as if it were obvious. "And who wouldn't want to be a dragon?"

"Well I'm sure Mother will be most amused to hear that," Morrigan told her. "She wanted to speak with you when you
awoke."

"Thank you for helping to take care of me while I was unconscious," Aunn said automatically as she turned to go. Two weeks? Two weeks? She thought she should probably be feeling a lot stiffer than she was but, then again, magic was involved so maybe that took care of any muscle atrophy she should be experiencing.

"I…you are welcome," Morrigan responded, sounding surprised and a little touched at Aunn's perfunctory manners. "Though Mother did most of the work. I am no healer."

Aunn turned around to smile briefly at her before leaving the hut.

"See, your friend is fine. You worry too much," Morrigan's mother told the pacing Alistair, looking amused.

Alistair ceased his anxious movements and turned to look at her with something akin to awe. "You…you're alive."

"It would seem so," Aunn agreed. What else was she supposed to say? She hadn't watched him lie comatose for a few days, after all, though she doubted it would have affected her that much if she had. She barely knew the boy, after all. Something else must have happened. Something to explain why they were in the Wilds to begin with. Duncan must be dead, or at least Alistair believed so if Morrigan's mimicking of his grief was any indication.

"Duncan didn't make it," Alistair confirmed her suspicions. "Neither did the other Wardens. We wouldn't even be here if it weren't for Morrigan's mother."

"Do not speak of me as if I am not here," the old woman commanded.

"Sorry," Alistair said, sounding strained. "It's just…you never told us what to call you."

"Name's are fleeting," Morrigan's mother said dismissively. "Still, if it keeps you from referring to me as 'Morrigan's mother' then I suppose Flemeth would do."

"Flemeth?" Aunn repeated. "Looks like Daveth was right."

Alistair, meanwhile, looked like he was about to have a heart attack. "Flemeth? As in THE Flemeth?"

"And what's that supposed to mean, anyway?" Flemeth asked idly.

"Thank you for saving us," Aunn said. "And did you really turn into a dragon?"

"Turn into a-I can believe that she rescued us but turning into a dragon?" Alistair couldn't believe it.

"How else do you propose she saved us?" Aunn challenged.

"With magic," Alistair replied promptly.

Aunn rolled her eyes. "And, what, exactly, do you call turning into a dragon?"

Flemeth laughed. "Did Morrigan tell you that?"

"No, I saw it but I lost consciousness," Aunn replied.

"Did you indeed? Interesting," Flemeth said cryptically.

"So how bad did things go?" Aunn inquired. "The other Wardens are all dead but what about everyone else?"

"They're dead, too," Alistair said glumly. "Teyrn Loghain didn't charge. I just don't understand…why wouldn't follow through with the battle plan? It was his battle plan!"

"There is more darkness in the hearts of man…" Flemeth mused.

"Do we actually know what happened?" Aunn demanded.

"No," Alistair shook his head. "But does it matter? Loghain left all those troops to die. He left the King to die. He left the Wardens to die. He left Duncan to die. How could he possibly justify that?"

"I don't know," Aunn admitted. "I don't know what happened. We were very late lighting the beacon, maybe too late for a charge to do any good. Maybe they were overrun by darkspawn as well. I have no idea what happened but I'm not about to condemn him until I do. Say you manage to convince yourself that everyone's deaths are all on Loghain's shoulders. Say you find out that he had a perfectly good reason for not charging. It's going to be pretty difficult to change your opinion then, won't it?"

"I…you're right," Alistair said grudgingly. "We don't know what happened yet. But we will. We're going to find out what happened and if Loghain doesn't have a damn good explanation for it then he's going to face justice!"

Well, the sudden determination was somewhat of a surprise but at least he seemed to be putting his grief aside for the moment. Best take advantage of that to try to figure out what the next step was. "Now what?"

"We'll be able to find out more at Arl Eamon's estate in Redcliffe," Alistair answered immediately. "He wasn't at Ostagar so his forces are still strong and he'll be able to tell us more about what happened at Ostagar and what Loghain claims happened. If the Teyrn really is a traitor…well the Arl was Cailan's uncle. He won't just let that stand. As for the Blight…I don't know. I'm not sure how to perform the Joining and we're the only Wardens left. Not to mention most of the army is dead now…"

"What about the treaties?" Aunn suggested. "Duncan had you hold onto them, right? It may be a challenge to find and persuade the Dalish but the mages wanted a larger role to play in defeating the Blight anyway and Orzammar will honor the treaty. I just hope there isn't too much inter-house fighting going on or providing troops could take awhile."

"How likely is that to happen?" Alistair asked, looking concerned.

Aunn shrugged. "Eh, I'd say there's about a fifty-fifty chance of that happening."

"Do you think we can really do this?" Alistair wondered aloud. "Most Blights take years to defeat and the cooperation of nations. We're just two Wardens who have to hope we can make three groups of people who probably couldn't care less about Ferelden agree to join our cause and aren't even certain about what Ferelden proper thinks of us or how much of a help it'll be."

"Why not?" Aunn asked flippantly. "Isn't that what Grey Wardens do?" Sure, they'd probably end up getting violently killed sometime in the near future but it wasn't like she had anything better to do and she couldn't simply ignore a Blight even if she did. If the Blight ravaged Ferelden, so be it. She honestly didn't care. If it took Ferelden then sooner or later it would end up at Orzammar's gates and this time their construction wouldn't be able to save them. That was why she had to do this. That was why she was going to embark on this mad quest. Orzammar may have rejected her but she still loved it too much to just let it die.

"Sounds like you have a plan," Flemeth said approvingly. "And who knows? It may even work. Never let it be said that I haven't done my part to end the Blight so I'm going to give you what is most precious to me."

"You've really done enough-" Alistair started to say.

"Nonsense," Flemeth cut him off as Morrigan emerged from the hut. "I can do more."

"The stew is ready, Mother," she said, sounding bored. "Will we be having two guests or none at all?"

"I will be dining alone as you're going to go off adventuring with the last two Grey Wardens in Ferelden," Flemeth informed her. "I know you've been itching to get out of the Wilds anyway."

"I see. Such a…wait, what?" Morrigan exclaimed as what Flemeth said hit her. "But…I'm not even ready yet!"

"You'll have to be," Flemeth told her seriously. "Blights are serious business, you know."

Morrigan sighed dramatically. "So, what? I get no say in this? Very well, Mother. I shall go get my things. Make sure to keep an eye on the stew, will you, so I don't return to a burned-down hut."

"If the Blight devours the land you may find that you have nothing at all to return to," Flemeth said sharply.

Morrigan's eyes softened. "That's not…I didn't mean…"

"I know," Flemeth said gently.

"She won't come to harm with us," Aunn promised. She had no idea if she could keep that promise, of course, but she figured that that was the sort of thing you told mothers who sent their child off with you on a suicide mission.

"Are you sure that this is a good idea?" Alistair demanded. "I mean, they're apostates, both of them!"

"Alistair, you're Templar training is showing," Aunn accused.

"What? It is not!" Alistair claimed.

Aunn just stared at him, knowing perfectly how uncomfortable that made him, and waited.

As expected, Alistair flushed. "Okay, maybe just a little…But still!"

"You really want to try and face the Blight with just the two of us?" Aunn asked incredulously. "I mean, it might be more romantic but it's highly impractical. Three isn't much better but it's certainly greater odds than just the two…"

"R-romantic?" Alistair sputtered. "But we've just met…"

Aunn gave him a strange look. "So we did, though I'm not sure what that has to do with anything. Going off alone would certainly be more 'heroic' and 'glorious' although – as much as it pains me to admit it – we really can't afford to worry about such things right now."

"Oh, I thought you meant…well, you know," Alistair told her sheepishly.

And suddenly Aunn did know. She made a face. "I'm…well, before I left Orzammar, I was involved with somebody. I'm not sure what happened to him or if he's even still alive but until I find out I'm not about to start anything with anyone so don't worry."

"I wasn't worried," Alistair claimed. "It's just…you didn't seem to like me very much when we first met."

"That was a bad first impression," Aunn acknowledged. "But hey, we're going to need to work together so we'll figure something out."

"I'm ready to go," Morrigan said, coming out of the hut with her belongings.

"You said you can cook, right?" Alistair said, looking suddenly a lot happier about the prospect of Morrigan coming along.

"I can," Morrigan confirmed, narrowing her eyes. "Why?"

"Nothing I can cook is edible," Alistair explained. "Seriously, Terrowin used to coat his blades with my stew…"

"I would cook," Aunn declared. "Well, at least for myself. But to this day I've never so much as boiled water and it's beginning to occur to me that that might not be the smartest approach. I mean, what better way to prevent poisoning than to prepare your own food? If you could teach me a little I'll be glad to fix my own meals."

Morrigan considered the offer for a moment before nodding. "Very well. And once you've learned enough to manage on your own then I'll expect Alistair to, as well."

Alistair's face fell. "I'm going to starve, aren't I?"



Not having much idea how to get to any of their four possible destinations from the Korcari Wilds, Morrigan offered to take them to the nearby town of Lothering where they could hear the initial impression of the battle and find their way to wherever it was they were planning on going via the Imperial Highway. Chances were Loghain would have passed through the town as well and so there was almost guaranteed to be news.

"Darkspawn," Alistair said suddenly about halfway to their destination.

Aunn could sense them too and already had her sword and shield out. What she didn't expect was to see a mabari already attacking them when the darkspawn finally came into view. Having a mage with them was as useful as it had been before as Morrigan was quick to immobilize their foes from several feet away so she wouldn't actually be at risk of getting injured by close-quarter weapons.

The fight was quickly finished and the dog trotted up to her and began wagging its tail.

"Hey," Alistair said, snapping his fingers. "This is the dog you saved at Ostagar, isn't it? It looks like it decided to imprint on you after all."

"What am I supposed to do with a dog?" Aunn wondered.

"He'd make a good warrior," Morrigan suggested. "Better than Alistair at any rate. Probably more intelligent, too."

"Hey!" Alistair complained. "But she is right, you know. About the first part, that is."

"Tell me, was the 'the dog will be a better warrior than Alistair' part of the first part?" Morrigan asked innocently.

"I suppose this dog can follow me around, then," Aunn said indifferently. "Who knows? Maybe four will make this less insane than three."

"So what are you going to call it?" Alistair asked eagerly, pointedly ignoring Morrigan.

"…I was thinking 'Dog' since it's, well, a dog," Aunn replied, wondering if this was somehow a trick question. "Mabari might work but it's kind of a mouthful."

"You can't just call it 'Dog'!" Alistair cried, aghast.

"Well I'm definitely not going to call it 'Rabbit'!" Aunn told him. "Especially not after Gilmore never got around to telling me the story behind the name."

"Haven't you ever had a pet before?" Alistair demanded.

"When I was younger I had five cats," Aunn offered.

"And you didn't just call them all 'Cat', did you?" Alistair prompted.

Aunn snorted. "Of course not. That would have been very confusing. There was Cat, Cat 2, Cat 3, Cat 4, and Cat 5."

"How…original," Alistair said wryly.

"I was only seven," Aunn explained. "And I wasn't allowed to have another pet after what happened with the cook…"

Recognizing a prompt when he saw one, Alistair asked, "What happened with the cook?"

"He was an idiot and accidently served Cat 3 for dinner," Aunn recounted, looking pained. "And I was oh so very upset…even having him boiled alive and fed to the nugs didn't make me feel better. Father didn't want me to have to go through something like that again so I wasn't allowed to get any more pets."

"Now that sounds like a lovely story about your childhood," Morrigan spoke up. "Why can't more childhood stories be like that instead of giant balls of fluff that I care nothing about?"

"Because most people have souls?" Alistair muttered. "And that's…why did you have him boiled alive and fed to nugs?"

"Because I was upset that he killed Cat 3," Aunn repeated. "Weren't you listening? In hindsight, I might have overreacted and it would have been easier to have just had him killed instead of specifying how but, well, seven."

"I don't even…let's talk about more pleasant things, shall we? Like Dun-no, wait, that won't work. How about we name your dog something that isn't 'Dog'?" Alistair proposed.

"Alright," Aunn agreed easily. "Any suggestions?"

But Alistair shook his head. "I can't name it, you have to. If you don't know any dog names then try picking someone that's important to you and naming it after them."

Aunn was silent for a few moments as she pondered. Most of the people she cared about were back in Orzammar and she was officially dead to them. It might not be fair to some of them as she had no idea how they were taking the news of her exile but what about the exile itself had been 'fair' anyway? There was always Gorim, of course, but that would be wearing her heart on her sleeve and nothing good ever came from that. Harrowmont had been helpful but she didn't like his first name – Pyral – and she couldn't well name it after an entire House, could she?

Her father apparently believed she was the type to commit fratricide unprovoked and hadn't so much as asked her for her reasons even if he insisted on believing in her guilt. Bhelen, of course, she was pissed at and naming the dog after him would probably not bode well for his future treatment. There was one thing that might be appropriate, though. If naming a pet after someone important to you was acceptable – and rather reminiscent to child naming practices – then surely naming it after someone that was dead would be alright. This way she could both honor his memory and ****** him off from beyond the grave so it really was a win-win situation. For surely he'd take offense at what she had just decided on.

"Trian," Aunn announced. "I'm naming him Trian."

"He your boyfriend?" Alistair teased.

Aunn shot him a withering look. "He's my brother!"

"Oh, well, um…" Alistair trailed off, trying to think of something to make this less awkward. "So Trian's the guy I look like, then?"

Aunn shook her head. "No, that was Bhelen. Trian actually looked more like Cailan."

For some reason, Alistair had started coughing at that.



"Here it is," Morrigan declared, gesturing towards the buildings in the distant. "The town of Lothering."

Seeing as how they'd been attacked by bandits who first tried to convince them that they were toll collectors looking to maintain the Imperial Highway, Aunn's first impression of the town was that it was annoying. The bandits were easily disposed of and she was hardly impressed with the way the leader had started begging the moment it looked like he might die. One would think he'd want to die with some semblance of dignity like the rest of his men – save the stupid one, ironically enough, who had run away at the first sign of Morrigan's magic – but if he wanted to die like a coward then that was really his prerogative.

Alistair stopped short. "So, I've been thinking."

"About what?" Aunn asked, trying not to sound too interested. Alistair had fallen silently shortly after they'd found Trian and it was really starting to annoy her. Unfortunately, if she asked him what was wrong she'd probably have to listen to him talk about how sad he was that Duncan had died and she really wasn't sure she could handle that. Sure, she was upset at the loss as well. She had really liked Duncan, Terrowin, Sadon, Gilmore, and even Daveth after awhile. Just the same, she didn't want to talk about it? What good would it do? It would just make her look sentimental and weak. Maybe it wouldn't to others but that's how she'd see herself and thus it wasn't going to happen. Perhaps if Alistair kept dwelling she'd ask him about it later.

"His naval, no doubt," Morrigan said dryly. "He's certainly been staring at it."

"Is this the part where we're supposed to be surprised that you've never had a friend in your life?" Alistair snapped.

"I can be friendly when I desire to," Morrigan countered. "Alas, wishing to be more intelligent does not make it so."

"Haven't you ever lost anyone?" Alistair demanded. "How would you feel if your mother died?"

"Before or after I stopped laughing?" Morrigan inquired, apparently feeling the need for clarification.

"Creepy," Alistair muttered.

"Oh, I don't know," Aunn interjected. "Perhaps her mother was violently murdered and she found the body so now she's hysterical. Or maybe her mother died in an amusing manner. It could also be that her mother has no soul in which case why wouldn't she be glad to see the end of her?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Alistair told her. "Everyone has a soul. That's one of the things that makes us different than darkspawn."

"I'm not entirely convinced that my brother does," Aunn disagreed.

"Which brother would that be?" Alistair asked. "You never say which one. Is it the one who looks like me?"

"Well, I don't see why it matters," Aunn began. "But yes, I was talking about Bhelen."

"Right, his name was Bhelen," Alistair murmured. "I'm going to have an easier time remembering your other brother's name since you named the dog after him."

"Why does this matter again?" Aunn wondered.

"It doesn't," Morrigan replied. "But he's a fool so he wants to know."

"I did have something I was trying to say, you know," Alistair reminded them, a little irritated.

"Then by all means," Aunn invited him to continue.

"Have you taken a look at those treaties yet, Aunn?" Alistair asked her.

Aunn nodded. "Yes. I'm quite familiar with the Orzammar one but the treaties with the Dalish and the mages appear similar. Why?"

"I wanted to know if you had any thoughts on where we should go first," Alistair continued.

"Not Orzammar," Aunn said immediately. "In fact, if we have to do it at all then let's save it for last."

Alistair frowned. "You don't like Orzammar?"

Aunn smiled ruefully. If only. "As it happens, I love Orzammar. Orzammar, however…well, at the moment it's an unrequited love."

"Didn't Loghain say you were a princess, though?" Alistair just couldn't leave well enough alone.

"He did," Aunn confirmed. "But I happen to be an exiled princess."

It was inevitable that Alistair would ask that next question. "What happened?"

Seeing Aunn's growing annoyance, Morrigan eagerly offered, "Would you like me to turn him into a frog for you? Or maybe another mabari so he'd actually be of use in a fight."

Aunn managed a small grin. "Tempting, but let's save that for when I get really frustrated." She didn't want to talk about this, but she really had no choice if they were going to go back to Orzammar. She took a deep breath. "If I tell you this now then I'm not going to want to tell the story again every time we find someone else to travel with us. I'll expect one of you to quietly let anyone else know when I'm not around and let them know that no, I don't want to talk about it."

"Is it that bad?" Alistair asked, concerned. "Well, I mean of course it would be bad if it got you exiled but how bad are we talking, anyway?"

"I vote that Alistair gets to share the news since he's the one who wants to know," Morrigan informed them.

"What? But-" Alistair cut off his automatic protest. "You know what? That might actually be a good idea. I'll do it. What happened?"

"Here are the facts everyone can agree on," Aunn began. "My older brother Trian was the named heir but the Assembly has to confirm the succession and as such someone else might be chosen instead. Trian was a staunch traditionalist and so the more moderate elements of society started suggesting that I succeed my father instead."

"That sounds just like…the Landsmeet," Alistair told them. "The Ferelden nobility also have to confirm the next King."

"The day of my first command I was sent to retrieve the shield of Aeducan – an important family heirloom – from the Deep Roads and I was found standing over Trian's body at the rendezvous point when the rest of the expedition joined us. My father ordered me arrested and the Assembly decided to forego a trial and moved to have me sealed inside the Deep Roads so I could die fighting darkspawn and attempt to make up for what I did."

"So…did you do it?" Alistair wanted to know. "You talked about what 'everybody' knew and I would imagine you'd know a great deal more, like how you came to be standing over your brother's body."

"Are you sure you don't want me to turn him into a frog or a mabari? Or it could be any animal really, I'm not picky," Morrigan tempted.

"I'm sure," Aunn said, a little amused despite herself. "Whether or not I was actually involved in Trian's death the Assembly decided that I did it so legally I am guilty. Does it matter what actually occurred? Nothing will have changed one way or another. I was supposed to die down there but I encountered Duncan and chose to fulfill my sentence this way. I really can't go back to Orzammar."

"What?" Alistair cried, alarmed and slightly panicked. "But you have to. I can't do this by myself."

"You won't have to," Aunn assured him. "That's why we're going there last. You'll have Morrigan and Trian, not to mention anyone else we happen to pick up along the way."

Alistair eyed his Orzammar-approved companions warily. "Great. Just great."

"If I go it will only hurt our cause," Aunn explained. "As everyone thinks I'm guilty, intends to act like they think I'm guilty and take advantage of my absence and younger brother's sudden rise to power, or believe me to be innocent but can't actually do anything about it besides offer useless 'if only's.' Not to mention that the King will either be the father who threw me out and whom I have nothing to say to or the little brother who was the one to first bring up the idea of me being sealed into the Deep Roads without a trial. It's just…better if I don't get involved as I know I'm going to just get sucked back into family drama."

"Not that I'm eager to agree with Alistair on anything but from what you've said I gather the impression that Orzammar is rather a complicated place that eats fools alive," Morrigan piped up.

"That does sound like a fair description," Aunn agreed. "I'm not sure how that equals agreeing with Alistair, but…"

"If you're not in Orzammar and you leave all the Grey Wardening there to him, how exactly do you think that will play out?" Morrigan asked patiently.

"It wouldn't be that-" Aunn started to say. Then she did as Morrigan requested and actually tried to picture that. It wasn't pretty. She paled. "On second thought, maybe it won't be so bad. If we save it for last enough time will have elapsed that hopefully people start to calm down about that whole fratricide issue and we can get in, get our troops, and get out before things can get too intense."

"What are the odds that that will happen?" Alistair asked.

"Not high," Aunn confessed. "Which is why you're not allowed to enter the city."

Alistair frowned. "I'm not? How come? Wouldn't two Grey Wardens be better than just one?"

"Normally, yes," Aunn conceded. "But not this time. If the nobility are given an option between dealing with me and dealing with a Surfacer, they'll want to deal with you and since you don't actually know much about our ways it will probably not end well for you. If I'm the only Grey Warden they're faced with they will have to deal with me directly."

"That makes sense," Alistair agreed. "I really wouldn't want to get involved with that anyway. So if we're heading to Orzammar last then where are we going first?"

"Why are you asking me?" Aunn demanded. "You're the senior Warden, remember?"

"Well, I don't know!" Alistair burst out. "Arl Eamon is definitely worth looking into but we need to get to the treaties as well. We don't know exactly where the Dalish will be so we'll probably have to wander around for awhile looking for them. I just…I'm not cut out for this, being a leader. And I only had six months more experience being a Grey Warden than you did. Before Duncan rescued me, I was set to be Templar, as you know. Leadership ability is hardly mandated for that and unless you're a Knight-Commander you're just expected to follow orders. I bet you have loads more experience with this kind of thing than I do."

"Leadership?" Aunn mused. "I was raised for that, it's true. So you want to be my second, then?"

"Possibly," Alistair allowed. "What's a second? Second in command? I can do that."

"A second is…" Wow, she'd never actually been called upon to describe that before. "A second is someone who follows somebody more important around to aid them when they're fighting, offer advice, deal with things the more important person can't deal with for whatever reason…it really varies from person to person. All that's really consistent is the following around and deferring to whoever they are serving as second for."

Alistair nodded. "Alright then, that sounds like a plan. I'll be your second."

"Yes, yes, this is all very interesting," Morrigan told them, sounding bored. "Can we just go? I don't like Lothering and I'd rather not have to spend more time here than necessary."

"In a minute," Aunn said. "First, as the last two Grey Wardens in Ferelden, we need to decide what we want our image to be."

"You're worried about your image now?" Morrigan groaned. "How is that at all relevant?"

"It helps to guide your words and actions if you have an idea of how you want people to perceive you," Aunn claimed. "And the way I see it we really have two ways we could approach this. We could either emphasize the 'whatever it takes' nature of the Grey Wardens and act ruthlessly and pragmatically or we can decide to be epic heroes of legend who go around rescuing kittens from trees."

"I vote for the second one," Alistair said immediately. "I've always liked kittens."

"And I suppose it's inevitable that I would choose the first," Morrigan decided. "Though I still do not see why such a choice is necessary. Can't we settle on this later?"

Aunn shook her head. "I'm afraid not. What is we decided to rescue an orphaned kitten from a burning tree and then we decided on the 'whatever it takes' approach and that's not helpful in stopping the Blight and could very well waste a lot of time. Or what if we decided to kill a group of people because another, stronger group offered to aid us against the Blight if we did and then we decided to portray ourselves as heroes. That kind of inconsistency has a way of coming back to haunt you, you know, and would definitely weaken whatever impression we wish to make should it get it. I mean, yes, you can always silence witnesses but how can you be sure you've gotten everyone?"

"By 'silent' you don't mean 'bribe', do you?" Alistair asked uneasily.

Aunn raised an eyebrow. "Bribery? Are you kidding? It's never just a one-time thing, you know, and it's hardly foolproof. It may even be an accident when the secret slips out but that won't stop the story from spreading."

Eyeing Alistair's anxious face with no small amount of amusement, Morrigan asked, "Starting to regret putting Aunn in charge?"

"Not nearly enough to do anything about it," Alistair answered honestly.

"So?" Aunn asked impatiently. "Which is it going to be? Or are you two going to insist on disagreeing and make me decide?"

"You could always ask the dog," Morrigan said sarcastically.

Aunn shook her head ruefully. "That's no good, he just wants to agree with me."

"Well I, for one, will always fall on the side of rescuing orphaned kittens from burning trees!" Alistair declared passionately.

"And I feel it is far more pragmatic to seek out stronger allies then it is to coddle weak fools," Morrigan opined.

"So I guess this really is up to me, huh?" Aunn asked rhetorically. "Well, pragmatism is always good so that's a point for Morrigan's side. But we really don't know what people are saying about Ostagar and our failure to light the beacon on time. Some people may blame us for the lack of a charge."

"How could they possibly do that?" Alistair demanded. "We lit it as soon as we could! We were overwhelmed by darkspawn."

"I know that and you know that," Aunn pointed out. "And I think Flemeth knows that. But nobody else that was there survived and for all they know we purposely were late lighting the beacon. It might behoove us to try and fix our reputation by making everyone love us rather than fear us. Besides, if we just intimidate everyone into helping then that might not be the best approach to get reliable help."

"So does this mean we're going to get to live up to the ideals of the Grey Wardens?" Alistair, naturally, was pleased with this idea.

"Within reason," Aunn cautioned. "We're not going to be stupid about this, okay? We might be the only hope Ferelden has at this point and thus we can't afford to be stupid."

"There's nothing 'stupid' about doing the right thing," Alistair claimed.

Aunn and Morrigan exchanged amused looks.

"What? There isn't!" he insisted. "Oh, you know what? Fine. Be that way. Let's just hurry up and head into town before you change your mind on what approach we're taking…"

[Sarah1281]

Chapter Seven: Finding Reasons to Hate Loghain Already

"This place is really depressing," Aunn remarked as they entered the town.

"Well what did you expect?" Alistair asked rhetorically. "After Ostagar was overrun by darkspawn a lot of people made their way here as refugees."

"If they were not so weak and helpless they would not need to seek shelter here," Morrigan declared. "Mother and I were managing just fine, after all."

"Not everyone has magic to call upon to shield them from the darkspawn," Alistair pointed out.

Morrigan shrugged. "So much the worse for them."

"I expected refugees," Aunn claimed, eyeing the temporary shelters and impoverished people standing around warily. "It's just that…well, I've never seen anything like it."

"What, you've never seen poor people before?" Alistair laughed incredulously.

Aunn shook her head. "No, never."

"Orzammar…doesn't have poor people?" he asked skeptically.

"No, it does," she assured him. "But they lived in a separate part of town that I was never allowed to go to. My father was kind of overprotective."

"So how are you taking your first experience with poor people?" Alistair asked, strangely curious.

"I don't like them," Aunn announced. "They make me uncomfortable. If the casteless at home are anything like this then I can understand why Father didn't want me anywhere near them. I mean, I had a hard enough time trying to talk to the casteless I saw that didn't look poor. Although I can just imagine how some of the people I knew would react to being here…you're really lucky I try to make an effort, even if I don't always succeed."

Alistair cocked his head. "Why? How do you think they would react?"

"Well, you know how you agreed to be my second, right?" Aunn asked.

Alistair nodded. "So I did."

"Chances are some of them – like Lady Dace, for instance – would have found one before even leaving the Frostback Mountains and then when they arrived here would have demanded to know why all the poor people were looking at her because she found it very offensive," Aunn told him.

"What do you mean, why would they be looking at her? Because they're impoverished refugees who are hoping for aid from the clearly-not-refugee passersby," Alistair replied.

"Then she'd promptly order you to take care of them for her," Aunn continued.

" 'Take care of'?" Alistair repeated. "You mean like give them food or money? I'm really not sure we could help everybody but that doesn't sound so bad-"

"No," Aunn cut him off. " 'Take care of' as in take care of."

Alistair still looked a little confused so Morrigan sighed and spoke up. "She means 'kills them.'"

Alistair's eyes widened. "Do you really?"

"I do," Aunn confirmed. "Some people just aren't very nice. Lady Dace especially isn't and I can't stand her. But anyway, don't worry I'm sure I can manage to not freak out around the refugees. We need to get some information and maybe some supplies while we're here. I've only ever been to human towns with Duncan and then we were just looking for armor or potential recruits."

"The Chantry will probably be a good source of information," Alistair suggested. "And as it is tasked with taking care of those in need they may be able to tell us more about the refugee situation and just how bad things are right now."

"The tavern should also be a good source of information in this town," Morrigan added. "This really is a small town so the tavern is a meeting place of sorts and there is always plenty of gossip."

"So we'll hit the Chantry and then the tavern, got it," Aunn remarked.

"The Chantry is this way," Morrigan told them, leading them to a building with a man in a pink Chantry robe standing in front of it.

"We are all doomed! Doomed! The darkspawn will kill us all!" a clearly distraught man cried out, surrounded by nervous-looking villagers.

Alistair was quickly distracted by a dead-looking plant with one seemingly alive red thing on it. "Oh look, a rose!" He quickly picked this…rose and put it in his pack.

"Well that's a cheery thought," Aunn murmured before walking through the door to the Chantry. It wasn't like it was her job to give these people false hope, after all, and any idiot could see that those who didn't quickly leave Lothering were going to be eaten by darkspawn.

A few feet in front of them they say a dark-haired man in Templar garb giving orders to some of his men so presumably he was in charge.

Aunn waited until he was done and his men had dispersed before approaching him. "Excuse me, are you in charge here?"

The man shook his head. "The Revered Mother is the one in charge but I do lead up her Templars here in Lothering. I am Ser Bryant."

"My name is Aunn," Aunn introduced. "And this is Alistair. We're Grey Wardens who survived the battle of Ostagar but have been recuperating and so need information about what happened since then."

Bryant raised an eyebrow. "Grey Wardens? You'd best be careful who you tell about that. Teyrn Loghain came through here two weeks ago and declared the Grey Wardens traitors who left the King to die. He's put a bounty on your head and a lot of people here are desperate enough that they might try to collect."

"He what?" Alistair exclaimed. "Aunn, do you remember when we were in the Korcari Wilds and you told me I couldn't hate Loghain until I found out more about what happened?"

"Yes…" Aunn agreed slowly.

"I've just found two reasons. We are not traitors and the last thing we need right now is a bounty on our heads!" Alistair cried. "Do you believe these vicious lies?"

Aunn still wasn't sure that the 'blaming them for Cailan's death' was due to more than their being late to light the beacon but Alistair had had difficulty enough trying to be objective long enough to hear this bit of information and the fact there was a bounty on them would just make all of this very annoying. She herself wasn't entirely sure how she felt about the matter because she was having a difficult time convincing the harried and irritated but friendly enough man she had met in Ostagar with the utter monster who had failed to charge and gotten everyone killed and then blamed it on them just because he was evil that Alistair seemed to see. Then again, maybe she just had difficulty recognizing soulless people. She wondered suddenly what her fellow Warden would make of her little brother.

"I don't," Bryant assured them. "Grey Wardens are far more honorable than that. I'm not sure what happened at Ostagar but I can't believe that you would let our King die intentionally. When the Teyrn passed by he also entreated our bann to follow him and take his forces so we are all that is left to try and organize a mass exodus before the darkspawn come. I will stay here for as long as I can to help as many people as possible but I'm not sure if we'll have enough time."

"Is there any aid you can offer us?" Aunn asked.

Bryant looked around and reached into his pocket. "None personally as you are technically outlaws and I have far too much to do already but take this key. It will unlock the cabinet over by the wall and you may take shat supplies you will from there."

"Thank you-" Aunn started to say.

"Is that Ser Donall?" Alistair interrupted, gazing over at a man standing off to the side, perusing a book.

"It is, yes," Bryant answered. "He is here seeking information on the Urn of Sacred Ashes to cure the Arl of Redcliffe."

"Arl Eamon is sick?" Alistair asked, alarmed. "But we need to speak with him. How bad is it?"

"I would imagine quite severe for the Arlessa to send her knights out chasing legends but I do not know the details," Bryant said. "You should ask him if you want details."

"We will do that," Aunn said as they took their leave of him. Trian followed her to the cabinet where she found quite a few useful items (and she took all of them for they did need more money even if they wouldn't use everything) while Morrigan went off to go taunt the Templars and Alistair spoke with Ser Donall.

The group met up near the door.

"These men only find me 'unsettling' and say they have no time to deal with me," Morrigan announced, sounding both pleased and a little disappointed. "And I managed to convince someone to pay us for having killed those bandits."

"I've got the supplies," Aunn informed them.

"Ser Donall says that Arl Eamon fell ill even before Ostagar and that it's possible Loghain is behind it," Alistair revealed. Aunn wondered how much of that was Donall's own opinion and how much was him just agreeing that Alistair's paranoia – though possibly justified – could be true. "He also said that their best lead for finding the Urn seems to be a Brother Genitivi in Denerim and that the corpse of the knight we found on our way into the village was a friend of his so he's returning to Redcliffe."

"It's a good thing we decided on coming across as epic heroes given that our reputation is apparently in tatters, huh?" Aunn asked rhetorically. "Although we've yet to do anything to really cement our reputation so it's not like we couldn't have changed our minds."

"Don't you think that the 'do whatever it takes' image is more in line with our status as outlaws?" Morrigan inquired. "Most outlaws are not epic heroes, after all."

"That's true," Alistair conceded reluctantly. "But most outlaws often try to rob you and then kill you so this means that we need to work twice as hard if we're going to convince anyone that we're here to help and to help us in turn."

"He does have a point there, Morrigan. Besides, outright robbing people is beneath me. Let's hope the tavern will be just as useful," Aunn said as they exited the Chantry building.

Unfortunately, the man from before was still telling everyone who would listen – and those who were just passing by – just how doomed everyone was, which no one wanted to hear even if it were true. Aunn would have been content to continue ignoring them but Alistair, apparently, was incapable of letting this sort of fear-mongering stand twice. Why couldn't there have been a back exit or something so they could avoid getting involved with this kind of peasant stupidity?

"We are all going to die! Nothing can save us now!" the man was screaming.

"Don't say that," Alistair said sharply. "It's not true. Darkspawn can be fought and they can be killed."

The man just shook his head. "No…no they can't. But of course you would tell those sorts of lies! You're tainted, just like them!" Tainted? So this man could tell that Alistair was a Grey Warden? Most people couldn't sense that and since Aunn rather doubted that he was a Grey Warden himself or else he wouldn't be so adamant that there was no hope (not to mention that he'd either be dead or at the very least Alistair would recognize him if he was one of the few Ferelden Grey Wardens) then she didn't understand how he could tell that. Was he also tainted and would eventually become a ghoul? That wasn't a pleasant thought but if he insisted on staying here helpless and hopeless in Lothering there was every chance that he wouldn't even live that long. As Grey Wardens were apparently outlaws now, she really hoped he didn't elaborate regardless of how he happened to realize their status as Grey Wardens.

"Tainted? Who's tainted? I'm not tainted," Alistair lied. "And you're not doomed."

"But we are!" the man insisted. "When the darkspawn swarm there is nothing you can do…no way out…"

This, apparently, tugged on Alistair's heartstrings as his eyes immediately softened and he said, "You poor man. What happened to you?"

"Oh, gag me," Morrigan murmured.

The man's face crumpled. "My wife…the darkspawn attacked and I heard her screaming…but there was nothing I could do. I ran. Why am I still alive?" With that, he ran off.

"He's right, isn't he?" one of the listeners adorned in Chantry robes asked despondently. "We're all going to die, aren't we?" If they didn't hurry up and abandon this doomed town then yes, they probably would.

"No!" Alistair disagreed. "You can't say that. There is still hope. There is always hope."

"You're right," the Chantry-dressed man said, his resolve hardening. "We can do this."

"We can do what?" someone else asked. "We can't fight off these darkspawn. I mean, just look at what they did to the King's army at Ostagar and now they're coming here!"

"Well we can't just lie down and die, either," a third man said firmly. "We have to head north." At that, the crowd dispersed, presumably to do just that.

"That was completely and utterly pointless," Morrigan declared.

"I don't know about that," Alistair countered. "I mean, I feel better and even if Lothering is going to fall sooner or later I may have at least saved those peoples' lives."

"If they can't be bothered to save themselves and would rather wallow in despair until the Blight reaches their doorstop then I say we should let them," Morrigan opined. "They certainly don't deserve to be saved."

"You are a horrible person," Alistair accused.

"I am a practical person," Morrigan disagreed. "You may disagree if you will but I do not need people interfering with natural selection to survive as undoubtedly must have happened with you."

"Hey!" Alistair protested.

"That's quite enough," Aunn interceded. Privately, she felt Morrigan kind of had a point but there was really no need to start taking sides if they were really going to bicker the entire freaking trip. "You guys can argue later. Right now we need to hurry up and get out of this town before the darkspawn arrive and kill us, as well." She started walking again and, after a moment, the Alistair and Morrigan began following her and Trian as they made their way towards where Morrigan said the tavern was.

The bridge they needed to cross, however, was occupied by a little human boy.

"Can you please move?" Aunn asked. "We need to get past."

The boy shook his head. "I can't. I'm waiting for my mother."

Keeping in mind that threatening the child or simply pushing past him was not a very epic hero thing to do, Aunn took a moment to calm herself before continuing. "And you can't wait somewhere else because?"

"Some mean men took her!" the boy let them know. "And mother said to come here but I've been waiting and waiting for two days and I haven't seen her anywhere!"

Two days without leaving, huh? And chances were if he was a child and bandits had killed his mother – there was little point trying to convince him of that, she was sure – then he had no money so she officially had a way to settle this. "How much does a meal cost?"

"Around five silvers," Alistair replied, a little confused. "Why?"

"Here's five silvers, kid," Aunn said in lieu of answering as she handed the child the money. "Go buy yourself something to eat."

The boy took the money eagerly. "You're a dwarf, right?"

He felt the need to ask? Was it the fact that her companions were two feet taller than her? Still, making fun of the recently orphaned refugee boy was not a very heroic thing to do and so she merely nodded.

"My father says that dwarves are greedy but you're not like that at all! You're a lot nicer than anyone else here. Thank you so much!" the boy said gratefully as he ran off to have his first meal in two days.

"I feel ill," Morrigan complained.

"At least he's out of the way," Aunn consoled her. She didn't really think of herself as greedy and disliked such stereotypes but perhaps that particular label came from all the dwarves who left Orzammar to make more money as merchants. If that was their sole or even just main motivation for leaving then greed certainly played a part, right? Of course, given the circumstances behind her own move to the Surface, she really couldn't understand let alone sympathize with anyone who would do it on purpose and when they didn't have to. She also really didn't think of herself as 'nice' but it was easy to see how her actions could be misconstrued that way.

They continued walking until they reached the tavern.

"Be serious!" a man loitering around outside scoffed.

"I am! I've heard that they all turned into demons and why not? Mages get up to some pretty strange things. Why do you think they lock them all in a tower? If one can let a demon loose think about what most of the mages in Ferelden can do," another man tried to persuade him.

"Excuse me, what was that you were saying?" Aunn asked them, alarmed.

The first man waved her off. "Oh, we're just passing the time. Don't mind us."

"But you said something about the mages in the Circle Tower turning into demons?" Aunn pressed. How was 'oh, we're just gossiping' at all helpful when it came to answering her question.

"Well, no one knows for certain," the second man admitted. "But the Templars won't let anyone in the Tower and so something must be wrong."

"That doesn't mean demons, though!" the first man objected.

"Well what else could it be? Surely if it were just some rebelling mages the Templars could take care of that easily enough," the second man said reasonably.

"Thanks for the information," Aunn said before entering the tavern. Problems with the mages? They needed mages. Sure, they might not be very effective against dwarves but darkspawn did not appear to have the same resistance to magic and everyone up at Ostagar who were probably far more familiar with mages than she was had thought they were essential. If they didn't hurry and sort that out then there might not be any mages left to recruit.

"What's this? Two Grey Wardens? Teyrn Loghain left us behind to find you," an angry human male declared. He had several armed men standing behind him.

"What makes you think we're Grey Wardens?" Aunn shot back.

"We were supposed to find a man who looked like poor King Cailan but with different hair and a dwarf girl. You not only match the description but you're the first dwarf I've seen in this entire town," he replied easily. He drew his weapon. "Now, in the name of the King and Teyrn Loghain-"

"Now, now," a red-headed woman dressed in Chantry robes interceded. She had a light accent that was kind of annoying. And why was she getting involved in this? That was even more annoying. "Is this really necessary?"

Aunn and the leader of Loghain's little search party exchanged a look. "Yes," they said at the same time.

The woman sighed and took out a small dagger. "I was afraid of that."

The ensuing fight was brief but a little messy due to all the tables and chairs everywhere. Fighting indoors was really nothing like fighting outdoors or in an approved arena and Aunn knew which one she preferred.

"Wait! Don't kill me!" the leader begged once all of his men were dead.

Aunn rolled her eyes at yet more human cowardice – bandits, maybe, she could understand but this was a proper soldier! Had he no shame? – and was preparing to slit his throat anyway when the Chantry woman smiled and said, "Well, now that that's done-"

"What?" Aunn interrupted. "You realize he just tried to kill me, right?"

"I do," she confirmed, nodding. "But now he's not trying anymore and I'm sure he's very sorry."

"I am," the man claimed hurriedly. Aunn rather doubted his sincerity but people would often say anything for the chance to avoid dying although that was hardly a respectable trait.

Aunn groaned. She would have rather simply killed him rather than have him live to report back to Loghain. Even though he suspected they were alive if he left someone there to watch out for them he still couldn't confirm that they were, without a doubt, still among the living but if these men fought them and reported back…not to mention this would make her look weak. Still, she couldn't very well kill him after the Chantry woman got the man to apologize, now could she? Not with all those witnesses and an image to protect, at least. "Take a message back to Loghain."

The man sighed in relief. "What do you want me to say?"

"Tell him that he'll need to try harder next time," Aunn said, wondering if he would actually deliver the message. It wasn't like she even cared one way or another but it would certainly be interesting to see his reaction.

"I will," the man said and then he ran out of the tavern.

"Don't start any more trouble or I'm throwing you out," the bartender warned them.

"We won't," Aunn promised. "This was strictly self-defense anyway."

"Thank you for sparing that man," the Chantry woman told them putting her dagger away. "It was the right thing to do."

"Finally!" Alistair exclaimed. "A voice of reason!"

Aunn turned to look skeptically at him. "That's your idea of reason?"

"My name is Leliana and the Maker wants me to come with you," Leliana introduced herself.

"Well, maybe not…" Alistair conceded, eyeing Leliana a little warily now.

"Oh, well if the Maker's on my side then you're welcome to come along," Aunn deadpanned.

"Really? I knew it was a real vision!" Leliana exclaimed, sounding thrilled.

"No, not really," Aunn was forced to explain. "I do not believe in your Maker but from what I understand the story goes that he abandoned everyone so what kind of vision could you possibly have seen?"

Leliana looked crushed that she wasn't readily believed after all. It did sound quite farfetched so she was probably looking forward to not having to explain. "I have been a lay sister in this Chantry for the past two years and one day last week I had a dream in which I saw a giant dragon on the roof of a tall building and you two were fighting with human soldiers, mages, elves, and dwarves. I woke up and went outside and lo and behold, the dead rosebush in front of the Chantry had a single rose on it! I knew then that the Maker had sent me that dream as a vision so that I could help you end the Blight."

Alistair started coughing again but this time Aunn knew why. Alistair had picked a rose just like the one Leliana had described in her vision and it very well might have been the very Maker-sent vision rose which, while she wasn't convinced it was real, would not please this questionably sane redhead.

Morrigan, too, seemed to have picked up on it if her laugh was any indication. "You would be fool enough to do such a thing."

Leliana frowned. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"Never mind," Alistair said quickly. "It doesn't matter. Um, why don't you tell us what you feel you can offer us as a companion if we agree to let you accompany us?"

"Well, I am not unskilled with poisons, traps, or herbalism and I know how to fight," Leliana replied. "Besides, you will undoubtedly need more than just four people to stop a Blight." She paused. "Did I just refer to a dog as a person? I really have been in this country for far too long…"

"You're not from Ferelden?" Alistair asked. "I mean, I noticed your accent but I didn't want to assume…"

"That's sweet," Leliana said. "No, I was born in Ferelden but I was raised in Orlais. Don't worry, though! I don't support a reoccupation and am, for the most part, apolitical. So what do you say? Will you let me help you save Ferelden?"

Aunn considered this offer. On the one hand, there was probably no such thing as the Maker – probably because from what she could tell it didn't directly go against her beliefs – and if there was he abandoned everyone so she highly doubted the girl had really had a vision and so she was either making things up or simply crazy. On the other hand, she had somehow known about the treaties and Aunn wasn't sure how that was even possible. Plus she had seen Leliana fight and she wasn't half-bad, despite needing a bigger weapon. Fortunately they had found some of those in Bryant's stash. Not to mention that she was right about the only having four people and what lousy odds those were. Five wasn't much better than four but if they kept finding more people who wanted to better their odds then one day they might actually have odds worth mentioning. "Alright," she agreed. "My name is Aunn, that's Alistair – he's also a Grey Warden – and that's Morrigan. My dog's name is Trian."

Leliana easily agreed to switch to a more powerful and effective weapon and chose a bow, which made her and Morrigan both ranged fighters to contrast with Aunn, Alistair, and Trian's close-quarters combat styles. Aunn sold what was left to a merchant that had set up shop in the tavern for whatever reason and picked up a few items they might need. Once that was done, they left the tavern.

"Okay," Aunn began. "We've visited the Chantry and the tavern and have found out more about what happened after Ostagar. Is there anything else we might need to do here or should we just get going?"

"I have been ready to leave for days," Leliana assured her.

"I never wanted to come back to this wretched place again," Morrigan declared.

"I really want to see Eamon," Alistair told her. "I'm concerned about his illness. And I'm adding 'left some of his men to attack us' as a reasonable cause to hate Loghain."

"You have a list now?" Morrigan asked sardonically.

"Only a mental one at the moment," Alistair replied. "Although now that you mention it at the rate we're going I'm likely to have far too many to remember personally so I really should start writing them down."

"Yes, I suppose we will find another two reasons if we continue on this journey," Morrigan agreed.

"Yeah, I…hey! I can remember more than five!" Alistair insisted.

"I don't believe you," Morrigan said bluntly.

"I'm going to take that as a 'we're more than done here'," Aunn decided. "Morrigan, which way do we take to get out of this town?"

"This way," Morrigan said, leading the way yet again.

On their way out they encountered a cage containing a very tall man with dark skin and white hair pulled back in rows.

Leliana stopped. "Oh, I heard about him. He is a qunari that was arrested for killing an entire family. The only survivor was a little boy who is still too traumatized to speak. He waited until the Templars found him and was arrested without protest. He is to be left here until the darkspawn come and claim him."

"Thank you for sharing that," the giant said in a monotone. So this was a qunari, huh? She had heard that they produced exceptional warriors and if this one had managed to slaughter an entire family then chances were good that he was a warrior himself.

Leliana looked sheepish. "Well…they would have already known had they been here longer!"

"To see such a proud creature brought so low…I don't like it," Morrigan spoke up. "I say we let him out."

Alistair practically fell over. "Mercy? From you?"

"I also suggest that we put Alistair in his place," Morrigan said. "Surely one Grey Warden is all we need and this man looks more of a fighter than Alistair."

"Now that sounds more like it," Alistair muttered. "But I agree. We could use all the help we can get."

"And just leaving him here is barbaric!" Leliana exclaimed.

That stopped Aunn short. "Wait…are you guys saying that you've all managed to agree we should take him with us despite the fact that you've yet to agree on anything else except that we need to stop the Blight?"

"This should help us do that," Morrigan claimed.

"I refuse to agree with Morrigan but I also feel that we should stop the Blight and this will help," Alistair informed her.

"I agree with them both despite Alistair not actually agreeing with Morrigan," Leliana said.

"That's a little odd…still, I'm sure six people will be more effective than only five," Aunn mused. "Excuse me, are you willing to come stop the Blight with us?"

"You wish to stop the Blight?" the caged qunari. "Are you a Grey Warden then?"

"I am," Aunn confirmed a little proudly. The novelty had yet to wear off, which was fortunate considering just how trying and impossible their task was. And it was also a good thing that she'd always had a fascination with Grey Wardens or she might very well have listened to the little voice in her head telling her to forget this foolish idea and to just head to Orlais and let Ferelden destroy itself. Orzammar would probably be fine and if it wasn't then they'd already rejected her so she didn't care. That was the kind of thinking that would just depress her and accomplish nothing so there was no point listening to it. She might honestly not care about Ferelden but if Orzammar fell she would be devastated…as soon as the anger died down.

"My people have heard tales of your order about peerless warriors and legendary skill," the qunari said considering. "I suppose every legend has its exaggerations. Although I do see that you have at least one skilled warrior with you."

"It that a yes or a no?" Aunn pressed, a little annoyed that if where he was looking was any indication then he had already decided that Trian was the most capable member of their group.

"I do not think that the Revered Mother will let me out but if you can figure out a way to convince her to release me then I will accompany you on your journey and add my skill to yours," the qunari vowed.

Go all the way back to the Chantry and ask to take the gigantic qunari with them? That sounded like more trouble than it was worth. The Chantry clearly had no real plan for him and if he were with them he could do some good and be a major help. Besides, they were on their way out anyway so they probably wouldn't have to face any repercussions for this. Aunn pulled out a pin and approached the cage door.

"What are you doing?" the qunari asked.

"Getting you out of here," Aunn replied, smiling as she heard the lock click and pulled the door to the cage open. She had mastered the art of lock picking within a week of Trian finally deciding to lock his door to try and stop her from just barging in whenever she felt like it. Not that that had stopped her, of course.

"I am a Sten of the Beresaad," Sten introduced, stepping out of his cage. "So long as you are seeking to end this Blight I will follow you and lend my sword to your cause."

"I am pleased to meet you, Sten," Aunn replied automatically.

"You mock me," Sten accused. Eyeing her surprised expression, he amended, "Or you show manners I have not come to expect in this country."

"Given that every time I show any people make a big deal out of it, I'm coming to expect a lack of manners as well," Aunn commiserated. "Still, I will not lower myself to their level. My name is Aunn and this is Alistair. We are both Grey Wardens. This is Leliana, Morrigan, and Trian."

Leliana cast a nervous glance back towards the Chantry. "We should probably hurry up and leave before anyone notices that Sten is free."

"Just how long were you there anyway?" Alistair wondered.

"Three or four weeks," Sten answered shortly. "I stopped counting after awhile."

"That long? Really?" Alistair sounded impressed.

"Indeed," Sten confirmed. "Can humans not be in fighting condition after a month with no food or water?"

"No, no they can't," Alistair replied. "You can?"

"Of course I can. If you cannot then it is probably your lack of knowledge of the Qun," Sten theorized.

"Here, pick a weapon," Aunn said, holding out a few for Sten to choose from. He chose the largest sword she had with her and looked instantly more at ease once he was properly armed. "We can get you some armor once we stop in Denerim. I know a place that might very well have something in your size."

They continued walking for a bit before being stopped by a group of frightened but determined refugees.

"We heard what those soldiers were saying in the tavern," one of the men in front, presumably the leader, said. "About how you were a Grey Warden. I don't know if that's true and, Maker forgive me, I don't care but your bounty could feed a lot of hungry people."

Aunn's eyes narrowed in distaste. "Is that supposed to make me feel sympathetic towards your plight?" she asked coldly. "If you succeeded you would be dooming Ferelden to be completely overrun by the Blight and you can justify this because you're hungry? You're pathetic."

"Think what you will but we need to eat," the refugee told her bluntly. "Attack!"

These refugees were untrained, unskilled, and barely armed so they posed no real threat to the group. Aunn made certain to kill their leader first so he couldn't surrender at the last minute as the leaders of groups who attacked her in this town were prone to do. His complete and utter selfish shortsightedness ensured that she wouldn't spare him no matter what – and there weren't any witnesses around she needed to think of, either – but she would rather not have to anger Leliana over something so trivial.

"Those poor people," Leliana said mournfully. "They might have doomed us all but their situation was so dire they were past the point of caring…"

"Yes, yes, that's very sad," Aunn said, trying to sound sincere despite being anything but. "We really should move along before we need to deal with angry witnesses who see us standing over the bodies and assume we let Sten out to go on another farmer-massacre."

"I would not do that," Sten said sharply.

"Do you think these people would believe that?" Aunn asked rhetorically.

Sten had no answer and so they continued walking. Once they got to the Imperial Highway that would take them to the rest of Ferelden, they found a small group of darkspawn harassing two dwarves. Aunn was probably more eager to help than she would have been otherwise as these were the first dwarves she'd seen since leaving Orzammar (she would have needed to dispatch the darkspawn irregardless but not necessarily for the sake of the civilians) and quickly charged into battle. Now that there were six of them for the six darkspawn the battle was over almost before it had begun.

"That was some great timing, strangers, and my boy and I are might grateful for it. Say hello, Sandal," the man they had just rescued instructed. He had the exact same beard and mustache that Gorim did, though a different hairstyle and a different color for which Aunn was grateful, which made her remember just how many weeks it had been since she'd seen him. There was no point in dwelling on that, though. She'd looked through Denerim the last time she'd been there and she'd look again when she returned.

"Hello," Sandal said obediently if slowly.

"The name's Bodahn Feddic," Bodahn introduced. Feddic…that was a merchant caste. She supposed that made sense as merchants and smiths were usually the ones who left for the surface without being forced. Still, Feddic was a pretty powerful merchant family and she thought she might have heard of Bodahn himself. Something about some scandal involving Maida Vollney? Ah, that was it. Her brother had fallen in the Deep Roads and she had spotted a pair of bracers that had been custom-made for him in Bodhan's shop and so, naturally, she had had him arrested. Aunn hadn't really heard what had come out of that but it looked like he had made it through alright even if he might have been forced to leave Orzammar. Still, if he was anything like her then the details behind his coming to the Surface were probably the last thing he wanted to talk about with random strangers so, unlike Alistair, she wouldn't ask. "Where are you folks headed? We might be going the same way."

"We might be," Aunn acknowledged. "But we're also planning on seeing a lot of combat against the darkspawn so I'm not really sure we're the safest travelling companions."

"You may be right," Bodahn conceded, rubbing his beard. "Well, the best of luck to you then and should we ever meet again I'll make sure to give you a discount. Farewell."

With that, Bodahn and Sandal walked off to retrieve the wares the darkspawn attack had forced them to abandon in an effort to flee from the darkspawn and Aunn and company began the long trek on the Imperial Highway.

"So I know that for now we need to keep heading this way but sooner or later we're going to need to branch off depending on where we're going," Alistair exposited. "And now that I think of it you never did tell me where we were going first."

"I know you want to hurry up and get to Redcliffe," Aunn began. "Especially since we found out that your Arl is ill but I really think we need to get to the Circle Tower first."

"Oh joy, we get to go visit the Mage Zoo," Morrigan said dryly.

"It would probably be best if you didn't call it that while we were there," Aunn suggested. "Or at least in the presence of the mages."

"Why not?" Morrigan demanded. " 'Tis true, is it not?"

"I've only been there the one time and while there may be similar aspects, we do need these mages to help us and while we do have an ancient treaty on our side and know that at least some of them – like that Uldred guy – are eager to do their part against the Blight to prove their worth, we must also remember that we're currently technically outlaws and the mages don't have to help us so not offending them is probably the best approach to take," Aunn explained.

"If they are so weak as to allow themselves to be chained in such a manner how much help against the Blight can they possibly be?" Morrigan reasoned.

"More help than having no mages assist us, no doubt," Aunn replied. "And so unless you know of an army of apostates who are willing to aid us then we're going to just have to make do with the mages."

"A pity," Morrigan sighed.

"I see your point about needing to go to the Circle first since something weird is going on there," Alistair told her. "Even though I rather doubt that they all managed to turn themselves into demons. Are we going to go to Redcliffe next? It's really close to the Circle. In fact, I think you could make a roundtrip in two days if you had to."

"If your mages were handled properly and had their tongues removed then this would not be a problem," Sten informed them.

Morrigan recoiled. "You…your people cut out the tongues of mages?"

Sten nodded. "Of course. If you do not do that and keep them on leashes when they perform forbidden magic then you cannot be surprised when they unleash demons upon the populace."

"We might go to Redcliffe before looking for the Dalish depending on if we hear any rumors about where they might be camping," Aunn decided. "But after the Circle I thought we could go to Denerim."

"Go to Denerim?" Alistair repeated. "You're not going to be taking Morrigan's inane suggestion to just go find Loghain somewhere and kill him to heart, are you? I mean, I can definitely see the appeal of that plan but it's simply not practical."

"And when the fool says that something isn't practical then it likely isn't even within the realm of possibility," Morrigan chimed in.

"Exactly, I…nobody asked you!" Alistair snapped. "What good could going to Denerim do?"

"There are lots of places to shop in Denerim," Leliana said brightly. "I really need some new shoes if we're going to be walking all over Ferelden."

"Aunn said that there was a place to get proper armor in Denerim," Sten added. He paused. "And I have heard wonderful things about their bakeries."

Everyone stopped and stared at him at that comment but he just glared back at them so they decided not to ask him to elaborate.

"Denerim is the capital of Ferelden, right?" Aunn asked rhetorically. "So if we found out all this information about what's been going on from asking around in Lothering which is, by all accounts, a backwater town in the middle of nowhere and soon to be devoured by the Blight, think of how much we can find out in the capital itself."

"That does make sense," Alistair grudgingly agreed.

"Besides," Aunn continued flippantly. "I'm supposed to meet a friend of mine there at some point." Well, more than a friend, really, and it was far more complicated than a simple friendship even if she didn't love him. Still, no need to go into details, right? She had to at least mention that in case she happened to run into him when others were with her and he mentioned something about how they were supposed to meet up before she'd managed to get rid of her companions.

"You want to risk getting killed slowly and painfully by Loghain's men who, might I add, have already tried when there is a bounty on our heads so you can go meet up with a friend of yours?" Alistair couldn't believe it.

Aunn shrugged. "Pretty much, yeah. But don't worry: we can handle ourselves. And we really do need to take advantage of the Denerim marketplace and the information we can find while we're there. It's called multi-tasking and it save a lot of time."

"But after Denerim we can get to the Arl's?" Alistair pressed.

"We'll just see what happens," Aunn told him firmly. "What if I promised we'd go directly there but then we found out about the problems up at the Circle Tower and had to change our plans? We need to go wherever things are most urgent."

"I suppose I can at least take comfort in the fact we're going to be going to Redcliffe before we hit Orzammar," Alistair said with a sigh.

"Speaking of, I'm not stepping foot in Orzammar until I get some proper armor," Aunn warned him.

"Some proper-" Alistair broke off. "What's wrong with what you're wearing now?"

"It's just not good enough to go back to Orzammar with," Aunn sniffed. "I mean, don't get me wrong, it'll work fine for now since we don't have much money but before I return I'm going to need some proper armor or it's just not happening."

"Your armor is better than mine," Alistair pointed out.

"That's not really saying much," Aunn said frankly. "We should get you some better armor while we're in Denerim as well."

"But why isn't your armor good enough to wear in Orzammar?" Alistair still didn't get it. "It's really good armor."

Aunn rolled her eyes. "Because this is warrior armor. Honestly, I don't even want to know what people would say if they saw me in it…It was bad enough that they saw me dragged through the streets in chains but at least I was properly dressed during that!"

Alistair took a minute before replying. "Has anyone ever told you you're a little spoiled?"

Aunn shook her head. "No, never. I am starting to come to that conclusion on my own, though..."

[Sarah1281]

Chapter Eight: Reluctantly Attempting to be Comforting

As they neared Lake Calenhad, Aunn studied her arm with a frown. Over the past few weeks, she had thought – hoped, really – that she had only been imagining things but now there could be no more denial. "Why is my arm changing color?"

Alistair glanced over at her listlessly. "You're tanning."

"I'm what?" Aunn asked, confused. "What is this 'tanning'? Is it dangerous? Do I need to be treated or something?"

Leliana laughed. "Oh, no, no, no! Have you really never gotten a tan before?"

"If I had then I wouldn't be so worried now, now would I?" Aunn asked, trying not to lash out. Why couldn't anyone just hurry up and explain this? Sure, Leliana sounded cheerful enough but if that girl's Maker obsession was any indication then she was crazy and could very well been a secret sadist. "Someone please explain what a tan is."

"A tan is when your skin turns darker because you've been spending a lot of time in the sun," Morrigan answered, sounding bored. "As you've spent most of your life underground then it is not surprising you've never experienced this remarkable phenomena before."

Aunn continued to peer suspiciously at this 'tan.' "Well, I don't like it. How do I make it go away?"

"Stay out of the sun," Leliana advised. "Of course that should be pretty difficult if we're going to be walking everywhere…"

"Is this important?" Sten demanded. "Your skin changed colors. Accept it and move on."

"I'm working on it," Aunn assured him. "But it's just so…weird."

"At least you aren't getting sunburned," Leliana told her, trying to put a positive spin on it. "If your skin were any fairer and you'd never been out in the sun before then you'd have no chance against that."

Aunn looked horrified. "Now the sun can burn you? Why isn't anybody else the least bit concerned about this?"

"Because there is no point," Sten answered her. "You cannot change the sun."

"It does not literally burn you," Morrigan explained with a long-suffering sky. "It merely turns your skin red and is rather painful."

"I see," Aunn said, not looking the slightest bit reassured. There had been a lot of myths about the Surface back in Orzammar. People thought that going to the Surface meant that you wouldn't be able to have children (which was a rather ridiculous line of thinking because Surfacers and even Surface dwarves had to reproduce somehow and she'd seen several merchants over the years with makeshift brands painted on who had never called Orzammar home), that you could fall up into the sky, that it was a lawless land of savages who would just as soon kill you as look at you…The lower castes might not have bothered to actually think these things through but Aunn had always found those rumors to be highly unlikely and since her exile she'd found that she was indeed correct about that.

She could understand why people propagated rumors to try and keep the lower castes in Orzammar because if they weren't happy about their lives they could risk heading to the Surface and they had lost too many people to the Surface already. What she didn't understand was why they didn't simply tell people the truth? That on the Surface you'll often be the only dwarf around for miles – she herself had only seen Bodahn and Sandal in all the time she'd been up here – and that the sun burned you, that everyone towered over you and that you might as well be on another planet half the time. Then again, since leaving usually meant losing everything – save, of course, the odd ambassador – perhaps they simply didn't know. She certainly hadn't although she would have probably been just fine never knowing.

Aunn glanced over at Alistair. Despite her hopes, he'd fallen into a melancholy silence over the last few days and didn't show any signs of snapping out of it. Looks like she would have to, ancestors help her, actually attempt to comfort somebody. If her brother were here he'd probably be laughing his ass off.

She allowed herself to fall behind most of her companions and fell into step with Alistair. Trian, of course, fell back as well because he liked to stay as near her as possible. It would seem that her dog had the making of a good Second but his inability – or rather disinclination to hear the Ferelden natives tell it – to speak was a rather large obstacle. "Are you okay?" she asked quietly, figuring that that was about as good an opening remark as any.

Alistair barely looked at her. "Am I okay? No, I'm really not."

Well that much had been clear or she wouldn't even be doing this now. Asking what was wrong would probably just end up insulting him but she clearly would need to prompt him if she wanted him to elaborate. "You miss Duncan."

"I do," Alistair admitted. "I didn't just lose him, of course. I lost all the other Wardens as well and I miss them too but with Duncan…"

"He was special to you," Aunn supplied.

"He was," Alistair agreed. "He was the first person who ever really seemed to value me for me and not for…Listen, I appreciate the thought but you don't have to take it upon yourself to cheer me up. I know Duncan didn't mean as much to you as he did to me."

Probably not given that she'd only known him a month or so compared to Alistair's half a year but she really did have to be the one to do this as the only other one who might bother would be Leliana and she hadn't even met the other Wardens from what she could tell. "Duncan saved me, you know," she confided. "I told you how I was supposed to go die, remember? I had no idea how to get to the Surface and I don't know if I would have been able to find my way without him. And even if I had…what then? The Surface is so strange sometimes and I have no idea how I would have been able to survive. Duncan didn't just save my life, he gave me a purpose. This situation, being one of the only two Grey Wardens left in Ferelden may not be ideal but at least I'm getting a chance to make a difference and not just dying disgraced like my brother wanted."

"Duncan really did have a knack for rescuing people, didn't he?" Alistair asked, smiling fondly. "He saved me from the Chantry, you know."

Aunn raised an eyebrow. "Oh really? I thought you were one of their Templars. Were you thinking of running off with a mage or something?"

Alistair shook his head. "Hardly. I actually never made it through training. Don't get me wrong, I had the skills but, well…apparently my 'general disposition was not befitting one of the Chantry's sacred soldiers' or so nonsense like that. I wasn't nearly the best, of course, but I knew I had more talent than some of the younger men who were becoming full Templars and I thought I'd go mad from all the waiting around until they deemed me suitable."

"That sounds awful," Aunn decided. "I'd probably just leave."

"You can't just leave," Alistair told her. "At the beginning you have no place else to go – especially if, say, Arl Eamon's darling bride couldn't stand having you anywhere in the same village – and by the time you're old enough to find something else to do with yourself you know too much to be able to just walk away and if you're a proper Templar they've got you addicted to lyrium, too."

Aunn cocked her head. "Addicted to lyrium, huh? Interesting method of control…" Upon seeing the look on Alistair's face she quickly added, "But that's such a horrible thing to do that I cannot believe such a supposedly good institution like the Chantry would be okay with something like that."

"Well, they are," Alistair said grimly. "They say it's to augment our abilities and they may even be right but it quickly makes you dependent on it and then sooner or later you end up going mad from it. Any Templar that lives long enough will suffer this fate though some are more sensitive and have it happen earlier on. Thank the Maker Duncan rescued me before I had the chance to become an addict."

"How did he manage to rescue you, anyway?" Aunn wondered. "If you can't just walk away then I bet Duncan couldn't just show up, ask for volunteers, and then take you away."

"That wasn't exactly how it played out, no," Alistair confirmed. "It all started with a Tournament, much like the one I heard poor Jory won. Becoming a Warden is an honor, you know, and so all the best Templars came out to showcase their skill."

"Would they have been able to just walk away?" Aunn inquired. "It seems that actual Templars might know even more secrets than almost-Templars like yourself."

"True but given the actual Templars all have a debilitating lyrium addiction and the Chantry has a monopoly on that then they would still be dependent on them." Alistair paused. "Actually, that may have been why Duncan wasn't interested in any of them. Instead, he asked who I was and why I wasn't fighting and even though the Revered Mother tried to distract him it didn't work and he insisted on seeing me in action. I won a few fights and lost a few as well but even though I wasn't the best one there I was the one Duncan wanted. I've honestly never been more surprised or thrilled in my entire life."

"If the Revered Mother was that against you even competing then I'm sure you walking off into the burning sunset wasn't exactly how she envisioned the day ending," Aunn remarked.

Alistair snorted. "Hardly. She was really adamant about keeping me which I thought was strange at the time because I knew for a fact that she couldn't stand me. In the end Duncan had to conscript me and the Revered Mother was so angry I thought she'd have Duncan arrested!"

"I guess he really thought you had potential if he were willing to risk the Chantry's wrath like that," Aunn said. Or maybe he just felt like being contrary and didn't appreciate some Chantry higher-up presuming to tell him what he could and could not do. Still, Alistair did seem skilled enough so it really could have been either.

"Duncan always had a soft spot for his recruits," Alistair replied, apparently not counting what had ended up happening with Jory. "It is just like him to answer whatever random 'why is my skin changing color' question you could come up with."

Aunn tried not to look embarrassed. "Wait until we get to Orzammar. Then it will be your turn to ask me a million questions and I'll make sure to remind you of this moment."

"I thought I wasn't allowed in Orzammar?" Alistair reminded her.

"Oh, right. Well have fun waiting outside for a month, then. I'm sure it will be ridiculously boring but given Leliana seems like a good person…well, she could probably keep you company. Who knows, you two might hit it off," Aunn said absently. She really hoped she didn't end up amassing too many good people because if she had to go back and deal with either her father or brother then chances were good that they wouldn't understand and it would just be easier to leave them outside.

"Maybe when I'm a little more convinced of her sanity," Alistair muttered. He sighed. "I don't think Duncan had any family, you know. I'm pretty sure he was from Highever but other than that…I'd like to go up there someday and…I don't know, create a memorial or something."

"I'm sure he'd like that," Aunn told him.

"I don't have a body to burn but I could do something all the same," Alistair mused. "How do dwarves treat their dead? Do they burn them as well?"

Aunn shuddered. "I should hope not! We bury our dead so that they may return to the Stone."

"You…bury them?" Alistair looked puzzled. "I don't even…why? Isn't that a little strange?"

"No stranger than burning your honored dead," Aunn replied coldly. She had little patience for people insulting her culture or her beliefs and even though it was clear that Alistair wasn't doing it on purpose it still offended her.

"I suppose that is true," Alistair conceded. "I hear the Dalish plant a tree over them so that new life may spring up from death. It sounds like such a beautiful ritual…"

Oh, so the Dalish had a 'beautiful ritual' while burying people was strange? And didn't planting a tree over them sort of require burying them first? Still, he was trying and she really didn't want to talk about this anymore. "Duncan may not have had a family but he did have you, after all."

"I suppose he did," Alistair realized. "What about you? Do you have any place you can call home?"

Aunn hesitated. "Well, there's always Orzammar, of course but…well…"

"It sounds like you can't really call that place home anymore," Alistair noted. Aunn glared at him and he raised his hands in a placating gesture. "What? You did get exiled."

"And it will probably only get worse after I inevitably accidentally end up killing my little brother," Aunn grudgingly agreed.

Alistair started. "Wait, what? How can you 'inevitably accidentally' kill someone? Much less your own brother?"

"Well," Aunn began patiently. "We're not exactly on the best terms right now – remember how my exile into the Deep Roads was all his doing – and so even though I'm not entirely sure that I do want to kill him, it will probably end up happening."

"Inevitably but accidentally?" Alistair still couldn't get over that. "How does that even work?"

"Quite easily, as it happens," Aunn replied dryly. "But I don't know. Who knows how he'll react to seeing me again or if he'll even still be alive? We'll just have to see what happens when we get there." She made to move ahead as she judged the conversation was concluded but Alistair's sudden hand on her arm stopped her. She sent him a questioning glance.

"Thank you. I guess I really did need to talk about Duncan and, well, you're the only one who could possibly understand," Alistair said earnestly.

"Don't worry about it," Aunn told him, equally sincere for once. "I may not have known him as long but I owe him a great deal and he certainly made an impression. I miss him just like I miss Terrowin and Sadon and Gilmore. Especially Gilmore, I think, because he could have easily been in one of our places right now. If the King wanted two Grey Wardens to light the Beacon then he could have easily decided to sent both new recruits or if he had to send you then he might have decided I had more experience and kept Gilmore with you. Still, the best way to honor their memory is to move forward and end the Blight the way you know they'd be doing if they were still with us."
So apparently she didn't fail at this whole 'comforting' thing after all. Still, the thought of having to do that again…thank the ancestors she didn't foresee having to go through all of that anytime in the near future. And if it didn't involve Alistair maybe he could do the comforting. He seemed more like the type to be willing to do that kind of thing, after all.



Once they had actually reached the lake, Sten stopped dead. "Here…" he murmured. "It was here."

"What was here?" Aunn asked obligingly.

"My men and I fought here a few weeks ago before being overwhelmed by darkspawn," Sten elaborated reluctantly. "I lost my sword."

There seemed to be something more significant than just losing a sword in that statement. Maybe he was particularly fond of it or losing a sword was shameful in his culture.

"That sounds like what happened to us at Ostagar," Alistair noted.

Sten nodded. "I had heard tales of that battle. Your fellow Wardens stood their ground when others fled. You cannot ask for more than that."

An old, dirty man who had been poking around a few feet from them spoke up suddenly. "You lost your sword, huh? Faryn thought he was being all clever when he sold me this useless spot he'd already picked dry…He took your sword, you know, and the swords of your dead friends. I bet he'll be in for the fright of his life once he realizes that you're still alive and will be wanting your sword back."

Sten's eyes flashed and he stalked over to the scavenger. "This man has my sword? Where is he?"

The scavenger backed up uncomfortably. "I…I don't really know…"

"Where. Is. He?" Sten repeated moving closer and grabbing the man's arm.

"I think he said he was heading off to the Frostback Mountains!" the scavenger said quickly.

Sten released him without a word and headed back to them.

"So I take it you'll be wanting to head to the Frostback Mountains at some point?" Aunn asked rhetorically.

Sten nodded. "Yes."

"Well, we can't get to Orzammar without passing through it so at some point we'll probably encounter him," Aunn told him, deciding not to remind him that they weren't going to be heading back to Orzammar until they had literally run out of anything else to do.

They approached the dock to find a Templar standing between them and the boat. "Oh, I remember you," he greeted Aunn. "You were that one Grey Warden girl with Duncan. I suppose you have Grey Warden business here, then?"

"We do," Aunn acknowledged. "Can we get to the Tower?"

"Sorry, Greagoir said no one was allowed in until we had the situation with the mages under control and until I hear something about things being okay then I'm afraid I can't let you in," the Templar said apologetically.

"There isn't anything we could do to convince you to let us across?" Leliana asked innocently, making sure to give him a sad, vaguely seductive look.

The Templar reddened. "You could always stay here with me and keep me company while your companions go off to the Tower. It can get awfully lonely at times…and I've been out here by myself for days…"

"I would love to," Leliana claimed. "But aren't you worried about my vows? And your vows. That might just be more trouble than it's worth…"

"Oh, well that could be a problem…What about this lovely young lady?" the Templar switched his attention to Morrigan. "Surely she doesn't have any vows to complicate things?" Apparently his own vows weren't a complication as far as he was concerned.

"I do not," Morrigan confirmed, practically purring. "And as it happens, 'tis most fortuitous for me that you've suggested this. I would recommend you go wait in the boat, I shouldn't be long. We'll have to row ourselves across, of course, as this man will be lacking in both his limbs and his eyes by the time he's experienced my special brand of lovemaking…"

The Templar paled. "That…that sounds like quite an offer but I do have vows, you know. I can't very well get involved with a woman. Or a man, for that matter. They didn't use to make you swear vows about that but there was this one time with too much wine and a mass Templar orgy in Antiva…so now they make sure to forbid illicit homosexual unions as well."

"A pity," Morrigan remarked disinterestedly, examining a nail.

"I can't just let you go across for free, though, especially since Greagoir will likely be pissed," the Templar mused. "I don't suppose any of you has anything to eat? It's not my lunch break for another two hours."

"Parshaara," Sten sighed before stalking forward. Given how he had behaved the last time he had done this – a mere five minutes ago – his companions wisely backed up. To their great surprise, however, he simply shoved a package into the Templar's waiting hands.

"Oh, cookies!" the Templar cheered as he opened the package. "I can take you across now. But make sure to exit the boat quickly so that I can sneak away before anyone sees you and Greagoir has a chance to yell at me. With any luck you'll be able to help him so he'll forget all about being mad at me for not listening to him…"

"He'll probably understand," Alistair attempted to reassure him. "I mean, cookies. How are you supposed to say no to cookies?"

"I know, right?" the Templar asked rhetorically. "And you just want to go help out at the Tower, it's not like you're asking me to murder anyone…"

"Where did you even find those?" Morrigan asked.

"At the last town we passed through three was a slovenly child who did not need these and so I took it upon myself to teach him discipline and removed the cookies from his possession," Sten replied.

"So you stole cookies from a child," Morrigan translated. "Still, it will get us across…"

"I didn't know you took vows of chastity," Aunn told Leliana.

"I haven't," Leliana confided with a smile. "But there's really no reason to tell him that, is there?"

"Oh, devious," Aunn said approving. "I like the way you think…"



True to his word, the Templar – Carroll – had arrived at the Tower and taken off again within two minutes and so the group had to hurry to get off the boat. The Templar guarding the door seemed a little surprised to see them but had allowed them to enter.

From practically the moment they stepped foot in the Tower, they had encountered a panicked frenzy and the harried Greagoir was barking orders to his men.

"You…what are you even doing here?" Greagoir demanded once he spotted them. "I told Carroll not to let anyone across and I simply do not have time to deal with Grey Wardens right now."

"Yes, I can see that you're quite busy," Aunn replied. "Which is actually the reason that we're here. We have a treaty obliging the mages to help us against the Blight and we heard something about them all turning into demons so we came straight here."

"They did not all turn into demons but abominations are running loose, yes, and there are demons on the prowl. I do not know exactly what happened but at the moment I don't really care. At this point survivors are unlikely but I cannot risk my own men until the Rite of Annulment arrives from Denerim," Greagoir said tiredly.

"This would not happen if you simply cut out their tongues," Sten declared.

"Maybe not," Greagoir agreed. "But it's a little late to be worrying about that now."

Alistair paled. "The Rite of Annulment? Has it really come to that?"

"I would not do such a thing lightly," Greagoir said firmly. "But as it is we have little other choice. I may tire of the Grey Wardens' ceaseless need for men but it is your right. Still, the mages are in no condition to help you and unless you clear the Tower out then my men won't be able to, either."

"I see…Morrigan, Alistair, may I speak to you two for a moment?" Aunn asked before pulling them off to the side. "Okay, first thing first: he's talking about getting permission from Denerim to send reinforcements to help wipe out all the mages, right?"

"Either wipe them out or interrogate them quite thoroughly about whether they are blood mages, yes," Alistair confirmed.

"And Greagoir offered his aid against the Blight if we aid them in clearing the Tower. If he's right and the mages are lost then we have no problem but what if he isn't?" Aunn wanted to know. "If the mages can be saved then the Templars won't be able to come to battle as they'll have mages to babysit. So tell me, which is more effective against a darkspawn? Mages or Templars?"

"I can't believe you're trying to decide whether or not to kill innocent mages based on whether they would be more useful than the Templars," Alistair said, looking faintly horrified.

"Well, I am," Aunn said impatiently. "This isn't our problem and from what I understand you can't be forcefully possessed, you have to agree to it even if it is under duress so they very well might have brought it on themselves. Just answer the question."

"Mages are more useful in a fight against anyone but other mages," Alistair finally admitted. "Templars can shut mages right down if they have an opportunity to use their powers. That said, against a non-mage then a Templar is just a guy with a sword."

"I have seen darkspawn that wield magic but they seemed to be in the minority," Aunn commented. "What do you think, Morrigan?"

"I have difficulty taking Templars seriously as my mother always made a game of luring them to their deaths," Morrigan answered. "They are not so formidable. Still, if they manage to cow these Circle mages then perhaps you should try your luck with them."

"Right, that's really creepy," Alistair remarked.

"Morrigan's Circle mage hated aside…I think you guys have a point. Mages would be more useful," Aunn declared. She went back to Greagoir. "We've talked about it and have come to the conclusion that we can't possibly give up on any potential survivors so we're going to go in there and look for them. Of course, if we don't find any and are forced to cleanse the tower then we fully expect you have your men fight in place of the mages."

"It is too painful to hope for survivors," Greagoir said slowly. "But if you wish to try and deal with this then I will not stop you and should the mages be too far gone to save then I pledge my men to aid your cause. If you do intend to try and save the Circle then know this: First Enchanter Irving is the only one that I trust to tell me that the danger is passed so if he is lost then so is the Circle."

After a quick stop at the Templar that was selling supplies to get rid of all the things Aunn had found but didn't need on the journey from Lothering, the group of six made their way into the sealed-off rest of the tower. The Templars opened the metal door with great reluctance and shut it behind them almost before they had managed to make their way completely through it.

"I can't believe you're pretending you're doing this because it's the right thing to do," Alistair hissed at her.

Aunn shrugged. "If we're going to do it then what does it matter our reasons? And besides, chances are he won't want to hear that we think the mages are more useful anyway."

Upon turning their very first corner they came across their first group of survivors, maybe twenty feet away from the Templars. Wow, it was kind of pathetic that the Templars missed that. The old mage Aunn had encountered at Ostagar was destroying some sort of fire thing that she presumed was a demon as they approached. What was her name again? It would be embarrassing if she forgot not to mention not the best way to start things off with a potential ally against the demons roaming about and someone who might have some idea what was going on. Ah, that was it. Wynne.

Wynne turned around once the demon was destroyed and her eyes widened upon catching sight of Aunn and Alistair. "You two…you're alive. I thought all the Wardens died after Ostagar."

"We thought all the mages did, too," Alistair said pointedly. "And yet I see that's not the case. What happened? How did you survive?"

"Oh, there were a few survivors," Wynne said vaguely. "We mages weren't on the front lines like the Grey Wardens were."

"We weren't on the front lines, either," Alistair admitted. "We were lighting the beacon."

"You were late," Wynne remarked.

"We know," Aunn said, a little annoyed. It wasn't like they were late on purpose or anything.

"Why are you here? Has Greagoir given up on us? Has he sent you to kill us all?" Wynne demanded.

Well…in a way he had but something told her that that wasn't the best thing to tell the mages right now. "Greagoir has called for the Rite of Annulment, yes, but we're here to see if we can salvage the situation without having to resort to that."

"So you're going in to try and stop all of this?" Wynne asked hopefully. "I don't know much about what happened. Uldred came back before I did and he had mostly convinced the Circle that following Loghain was the way to secure our freedom but when I told Irving what Loghain did, how he pulled out at Ostagar, he called a meeting and shortly after that the demons started showing up. I'm not positive but I think blood magic is at work here."

"I would like to point out that I've just found reason four," Alistair announced, apparently having decided that Loghain's minor involvement meant that this was all his fault.

"Greagoir said that the only way he would be willing to accept that the Tower is safe is if Irving himself were to tell him," Aunn told him.

"Then our way forward is clear," Wynne said determined. "I'm coming with you."

"So am I," the elf mage Aunn had seen at the Tower during her last trip spoke up. What was her name again?

"Are you certain, Caunira?" Wynne asked her. Ah, right. That was it. "This is very dangerous and you've only recently passed your Harrowing."

"That may be so," Caunira conceded. "But the fact remains that I've passed it and if it's really this dangerous then you're going to need all the competent help you can get. Besides, Angélique's in there and after what happened with Jowan…I can't just leave her there. I may not be able to stand her half the time, but she is my friend." Angélique again? Well, that wasn't good. Still, they didn't know what they'd find and if these two were willing to come along then why not?

"You're not seriously going to help save these Chantry slaves from the fate their Templar masters have in store for them, are you?" Morrigan demanded, unable to keep quiet any longer.

"I'm going to try," Aunn confirmed. "And I already told you why. Besides, if things were different you might have ended up here."

"My mother always said that people can only ever end up where they are but sometimes I'm not so sure," Morrigan said thoughtfully. "Still, the thought of me being this pathetic is a little hard to imagine."

Wynne's eyes flashed. "You…are you an apostate?" Strangely enough, she sounded a little like the people back home would ask if someone were a Kinslayer which Aunn judged to be a bit more serious of an offense.

"I-" Morrigan started to say but Aunn quickly cut her off.

"No, she's not but that might actually make people less inclined to kill her than if they knew the truth," Aunn lied.

"What truth is that?" Caunira wondered.

"She's actually from the Orlesian Circle," Aunn revealed hesitantly albeit falsely. If Loghain were any indication then surely this would work. "Naturally with the occupation it's easier if we don't talk about that."

"Hey!" Leliana objected. "Orlesians aren't that bad."

"Then why doesn't she have an accent?" Caunira asked reasonably.

"The Orlesian Circle is far superior," Morrigan replied. "And as such I have no need to trigger jealous rages by advertising my origins."

"An Orlesian Circle mage?" Wynne questioned. "Well, I suppose that's alright then if you're willing to help us save the Tower and if you really were an apostate then Greagoir wouldn't have let you in." Greagoir hadn't really seemed to notice or care but then again he was rather preoccupied. "Now, if you'll all stand back then I can take down the barrier."

A redheaded human woman beckoned Aunn to her as the rest of her companions followed Wynne to a blue barrier she had put up that kept them sealed off from the rest of the demon-infested Tower. "My name is Petra," Petra introduced. "I'm worried about Wynne. I know I can't stop her from going with you but…right before you arrived a demon was about to kill me and Wynne got between us and took the demon down."

"That makes it sound like she's more than capable of taking it down herself," Aunn told her.

"Yes, but after that she just…collapsed. She was down for so long that I feared the worst but then she got up again and assured me that everything is fine. Still…she does tend to push herself too hard and I don't want anything to happen to her," Petra explained. "So can you keep an eye on her?"

"I will," Aunn promised. "I don't relish the thought of a companion collapsing in the middle of a battle."



"Hello," a man in mages robes greeted them in a monotone the moment they stepped out onto the second floor of the Tower. "The stockroom is a mess right now."

"Owain?" Caunira asked, surprised. "What are you doing up here? It's really dangerous. Can you even fight?"

"I tried to leave when the fighting started," Owain answered in that same detached tone. "But there was a barrier that I could not pass through and so I returned to my duties in the stockroom. It is more familiar. I do not want to die."

"Oh, Owain, you should have said something and I would have let down the barrier," Wynne said, sounding a little exasperated.

"Wait…so he couldn't get past the translucent barrier you set up and you didn't see him standing there attempting to get through?" Aunn couldn't believe it.

"We weren't watching the door the entire time," Wynne said, sounding a little irritated. "We trusted the barrier to hold – and if it didn't we would certainly be able to pick that up without having to stare at it the whole time – and watching for demons attempting to get in would have just been unnecessarily distressing."

"Do you have any idea what's been going on?" Caunira inquired urgently. "Have you seen anyone else? Are they okay?"

"I saw Niall come by awhile ago. He was looking for the Litany of Adralla," Owain replied. "I helped him find it. Perhaps he will come up with a way to fix things."

"What's the Litany of Adralla?" Leliana wondered.

"It's a spell like any other," Wynne responded. "This particular one is to prevent against mind domination. If Niall was looking for it…he was in the meeting with Uldred so he's sure to have a better idea of what's going on…I fear I was right. Blood magic must be at work here."

Owain turned and headed back to the stockroom and Aunn quietly asked, "What's wrong with him?"

"What's wrong with who? Owain?" Caunira asked, sounding surprised. "Nothing, he's just a Tranquil."

"And what's that?" Aunn pressed.

"Every mage apprentice has to go through something called a Harrowing in order to become a proper mage. If you do not wish to undertake the Harrowing or have done something to convince the Templars that you are a threat prior to undertaking your Harrowing then they can take away your magic. Unfortunately, this is done by somehow severing your connection to the Fade and thus removing your emotions as well," Caunira explained.

"So you people can't feel emotions without a connection to the Fade? Strange," Aunn remarked.

Caunira crossed her arms and glared. "What do you mean by 'you people'? And why is that strange?"

"Sorry, by 'you people' I didn't mean mages or anything that I thought might offend you, I just meant 'non-dwarves'," Aunn quickly clarified. "As my people aren't ever connected to the Fade and don't have any difficulty feeling emotions so the thought that your emotions were somehow tied in to the Fade was a novel concept."

"I see," Caunira said, relaxing a little.

"We have to find Niall," Wynne declared. "We're all in a great deal of danger until we can protect ourselves from mind domination."

"Sounds like a plan," Aunn agreed.

They continued until they came across three mages standing next to a demon and chatting casually. Aunn supposed that that would make them blood mages, then, as there had been plenty of demons that had attacked them and yet this trio didn't seem particularly worried. Well, not about that, anyway. Apparently something was wrong with Uldred and things weren't going according to plan. She would have liked to have heard more and maybe gotten some sort of details about the problem but unfortunately that was around when the blood mages had spotted them and decided to attack.

The really nice thing about travelling with seven other people – or six and a dog depending on how long you had been in Ferelden – was that it tended to make fights, especially against only four opponents, very, very easy and rather short. The demon was the first to go down followed quickly by the three blood mages.

One of them was apparently still alive because when Aunn moved forward to loot the corpses – there were really some nice things here that she could sell to that quartermaster the minute they were done saving everybody – she called out, "Wait, don't kill me!"

"Why not?" Aunn asked rhetorically. "You just tried to kill us."

"Well, yes, yes I did," the woman admitted. "My name is Moira and you have to believe me when I say that this has all gone terribly wrong."

"You know we cannot let blood mages live," Wynne said, her face severe and bereft of pity.

Aunn still didn't really get why it was such an automatic death sentence. Granted, the ability to control others' minds was a bit alarming but then again mages could exert all sorts of control over people even without resorting to blood magic with their acceptable spells and it wasn't like knowing blood magic forced people to try and control others with it. It was probably just a mage thing that she couldn't grasp due to a lack of understanding of their ways. "Well, it wouldn't hurt to at least hear her out."

"We never wanted all the demons running loose," Moira began. "Uldred…Uldred said that if we did this then we'd be able to make things better for future mages. That even Andraste had to rise up and lead a rebellion against the corrupt Tevinter and anyone who has spent any time here and isn't blinded by their fear of us could see that the way the Templars are everywhere, always watching, always on guard, the way they can end our lives at their whim…it isn't right."

"So instead you chose this which you know will only make things worse for future mages," Caunira said bluntly. "They'll think that this only happened because we were given too much freedom and crack down on us harder than ever. I do understand your concerns and to some extent I can even agree with them but…by the Maker, the only way we'll even be able to salvage the Circle is if Irving is still alive to tell Greagoir that it's okay. We could all end up at the Templar's mercy more than ever if they have to 'test' us for blood magic. I have no idea how they would even manage that but I'm sure it's nothing good."

"What were we supposed to do?" Moira demanded. "Just sit back and do nothing? Nothing is changed through inaction."

"And nothing good ever comes from blood magic," Wynne countered. "You should have worked with the system, not attempted to overthrow it entirely. Greagoir does have great respect for Irving and he does what he can. Surely you don't believe you ever could have succeeded? Even had you managed to kill every noncompliant mage and every Templar here there would be reinforcements. You could kill every Templar in Ferelden and they would just send more from Orlais. Your plan cannot possibly succeed and Caunira's right that this will just make things worse."

"We might have had a chance," Moira said defiantly. "But then Uldred…I don't even know what's gotten into him. Some of the others think he's become an abomination and he's forcibly turning other mages into abominations as well. I don't know what to do. This has all gone so terribly wrong and I just want a chance to make it right."

"Would you be willing to fight the darkspawn?" Aunn asked suddenly as an idea occurred to her.

Moira's brow knit in confusion. "Fight the darkspawn? What do you mean?"

Behind her, Alistair spoke up. "Surely you're not suggesting…but she's a blood mage!"

"And?" Aunn asked. "Desperate times and whatnot. Besides, whatever it takes to end the Blight, right? From what I can tell blood magic is more powerful than regular magic which is part of what makes it such a threat."

"It is at that," Caunira agreed. "I never would have though Jowan could take on so many Templars and win but the minute he cut his hand open it was like he was in a whole different league."

"I'm a Grey Warden and I have a treaty obliging the mages to help me fight the darkspawn," Aunn explained. "Tragically this rebellion means that there is a distinct lack of mages available to aid us so if you're willing to help…"

"I'll do it," Moira said quickly. "That seems like a good way to seek my redemption anyway."

"Then go join the survivors down on the first floor," Aunn instructed. "We killed everything in our way so you shouldn't run into any problems. I trust no one but us who saw you use blood magic is alive?"

"Well, no one but the other blood mages," Moira corrected.

"For now, at least," Aunn agreed. "We'll take care of that soon enough."

"Thank you for giving me this opportunity," Moira said as she struggled to stand up. "I know I don't deserve it after what I've done but I will spend the rest of my life trying to make up for it regardless."

"Are you sure that that was wise?" Wynne asked as she watched Moira hobble away.

"I don't think she'll try anything right now," Aunn replied. "She'll either do as I've asked and we'll have one more powerful mage to use against the darkspawn or she'll escape and will no longer be our problem."

Wynne looked skeptical but said nothing else as the group continued clearing out the second floor. In one of the rooms there was a large cabinet that probably contained something valuable so Aunn opened it up and two mages fell out.

"This isn't what it looks like!" the red-headed man said.

"Unless it looks like we decided to hide when the attacks started in which case it is exactly what it looks like," Angélique clarified. "Oh, hello Caunira. What are you doing here?"

"I was trying to make sure you weren't doing something stupid again like when Jowan-" Caunira growled.

Angélique rolled her eyes. "I accidentally help a blood mage escape one time and then everyone starts assuming that it's a habit. Honestly, you people have no faith in me."

"They really should," the man remarked. "You are far too beautiful to go around doing things like that for the fun and Jowan really was a terrible villain for putting you in that position."

"He really was, Godwin," Angélique agreed. "But he was an old friend so…"

"You really don't get just what Irving had to go to to stop Greagoir from shipping you off to Aeonar like they did Lily, do you?" Caunira marveled.

"Why would they send me to Aeonar?" Angélique asked, confused. "I did nothing wrong! It was an honest mistake! Anyone would have done the same!"

"Jowan asked me first and I turned him down," Caunira pointed out.

"Well, anyone who isn't as boring as you, maybe," Angélique sniffed.

"Angélique, we are going off to fight the Litany of Adralla and save the Tower," Wynne told her gravely. "We need you and Godwin to come with us and help."

"Not happening," Godwin said immediately. "I think I'm going to just go hide again. Coming, Angélique?"

Angélique hesitated. "I don't know. They have Irving and you know that I heart him."

"Besides, if you end up helping to save the Circle that will be a great way to get Greagoir off your back," Caunira entreated.

"That is rather annoying the way he keeps making all those comments about how I have no sense," Angélique mused. "Why not? I'll come with you."

"But what about me?" Godwin whined. "What will I do if the demons come back and you're not here to protect me?"

"Well, hiding in the closet has been working out so far," Angélique reasoned. "And there will be more room for you without me. Not to mention that we promise to kill everything in our way."

"Oh, good point," Godwin realized. "In fact, I think I'll start now."

He retreated to his cabinet and the group of nine now kept going.

"This is Irving's study," Wynne announced. "Maybe we can find something that explains what's going on. Surely there must be some information on Uldred in here."

"Aunn," Morrigan called her over. "I had a thought."

"Just the one?" Aunn asked innocently.

Morrigan rolled her eyes. "Very funny. My mother told me once of a Grimoire she had that the Templars had gotten their hands on centuries ago. She didn't particularly mind this as she already knew everything that was in it but I could find this most valuable. Think of all the things my mother did not want me to know that I could discover. Since we are here could you possibly keep an eye out for it?"

"Certainly, Morrigan," Aunn agreed easily enough. "As a dwarf I wouldn't be able to get any use out of it anyway."
With that, she began helping the others to explore the room. Well, most of the others. Angélique and Leliana had gotten distracted talking about shoes and Wynne was outraged at the multiple copies of some supposedly rare and valuable text she had found. Making her way over to a chest in the corner of the room, she opened it to reveal…a black leather-bound book with a tree on the cover.

"Hey Morrigan?" she called.

"Yes?" Morrigan asked moving over to her.

"Is this it?" Aunn asked, holding out the big book.

Morrigan's eyes widened in shock as she reverently accepted the tome. "This…you have found Mother's Grimoire…I will not waste this opportunity, don't you worry." She shook her head. "To think you have managed to locate it after all these years within two minutes of me asking you about it…"

Aunn shrugged. "What can I say? I'm very talented." 

Modifié par Sarah1281, 06 juillet 2010 - 11:55 .

[Sarah1281]

Chapter Nine: Why is the Dwarf the Fade-Savvy One?

Morrigan had been attempting to kill Aunn with death glares for approximately fifteen minutes when they encountered the demon and her prey. Apparently Angélique had taken to pestering the supposedly Orlesian witch about Orlesian fashion and Leliana had joined in because she found it amusing and evidently had no sense of self-preservation whatsoever.

"It's a demon," Wynne hissed, reaching for her staff.

"I have a proposition for you, mortal," the demon said slowly as she turned away from the clearly ensnared Templar. She looked different than any demon Aunn had ever met, which was to say, really, that she looked different than the other demons in the Tower. She was purple, for one, with a humanesque form. She had curved horns sprouting out of her head in lieu of horns and wore a very intricate golden necklace that made sure to cover her nipples and a purple fabric that covered her hips but nothing else.

"What did you say, my love?" the Templar asked blearily, sounding as if he were speaking from a great distance away.

The demon quickly turned back to her victim. "It's nothing, my dear husband. Someone is at the door. I will go see what they want. Why don't you put the children to bed?" Her already mildly annoying voice slowed down when she was talking to him, maybe so he could hear her from whatever spell he was so clearly under.

The Templar got a stupid grin on his face. "Okay. Hurry back!"

Her puppet appeased, the demon turned back to the group. "Will you hear me out, mortal?"

"We will certainly not!" Wynne declared virtuously. "You are a demon and we will have nothing to do with the likes of you. Now release that poor man at once!"

"What harm could it do to just hear her out?" Aunn asked rhetorically. "Not agreeing to hear people out causes all sorts of trouble, you know."

"Be careful," Caunira cautioned. "She's a desire demon. She may be beautiful but she cannot be trusted and will probably try to trick you."

"She's not nearly as beautiful as I am," Angélique insisted.

Aunn decided it wasn't worth it to respond to that rather silly statement and instead promised, "I will. So tell me, demon, what do you propose?"

"I am not interested in a fight," the demon claimed. "I do not know who would win if it came right down to it but I do not care to find out. I have what I need and simply wish to leave."

"You want to just leave?" Alistair couldn't believe it. "In exchange for what? Our souls?"

"No," the demon refuted. "I only wish to be allowed to take this man and depart."

"I don't know about this," Leliana said uncertainly. "He really shouldn't be left with this demon but I don't have any idea how we could free him."

"You cannot," the demon told them. "He is mine now and I am his."

"Oh, how tender, demon," Morrigan sneered.

"Perhaps you should hurry up and get to the point?" Aunn suggested, eyeing Wynne's quickly darkening face.

"I have granted this man what he most desires," the demon explained. "A family. He never wanted to be a Templar, you see, but he was raised by the Chantry and so was left with no choice. I am the only way he will ever be able to realize this desire that was hidden so deep that he did not even dare to name it. For once, this man is happy. You cannot free him but if you could then you would just be making him miserable. Let me take him and continue to make him happy and you will never see either of us again."

"Right," Alistair said, a little bitterly. "And I suppose you're just doing this out of the goodness of your heart, then?"

Aunn was reminded suddenly of Alistair's own past as an almost-Templar. Was this the fate that might have awaited him had Duncan not intervened? She could bet he was placing himself in this poor bewitched Templar's place and wasn't liking it.

"Of course not," the demon scoffed. "But we are symbiotes. I provide him with everything he has ever wanted and in return his life energy feeds me."

"This…this isn't right," Leliana said, looking distraught. "He should be able to make his own happiness!"

"That is simply never going to happen," the demon said flatly. "Had he never encountered me and had he survived the mess this place has gotten itself into he would be forced to abide by his oaths and never have a family."

"You claim you are helping him but you are killing him instead!" Wynne cried out, outraged.

"I am," the demon admitted. "But you cannot force me to release him and if I ask it of him he will defend me with his life prompting you to cut him down to kill me. Would killing him now really be the best way to express your displeasure with my slowly sending him to his grave?"

"So basically you just want to go do your thing and leave us alone," Aunn spoke up.

"I do," the demon nodded. "And it may not mean much to you but you have my word."

"Fine," Aunn said. "Go."

The demon nodded her head. "Thank you, mortal. I will not forget this but you will not see me again." She took the Templar by the arm. "Come, my love. Let us take a walk with the children and you can tell them all about the stars…"

"But…I thought she just put the children to bed?" Angélique asked, confused.

Caunira rolled her eyes. "She was mind-controlling him. He probably didn't even notice."

"I don't' see why he wouldn't," Angélique countered. "There's nothing realistic about taking sleeping children out for a walk."

"And there is nothing realistic about him suddenly not being a Templar, being married for several years, and having children in the short amount of time the Circle has been overrun," Caunira pointed out. "But maybe you're right. That's easily fixable by just not having the children be tired and so they take a walk to try and wear them out for bed."

"That's a much more sensible answer," Angélique replied with a smile. "I love it when everything comes together."

"You…you know what, I don't even care," Caunira decided.

"I win many arguments that way," Angélique confided to Leliana.

"I bet you do," Morrigan muttered.

"How could you do that?" Wynne demanded. "You let that demon keep enslaving that poor man!"

"He was weak to allow himself to fall prey to a demon," Sten spoke up.

"She took advantage of his loneliness," Wynne said, turning to face the qunari.

"And he let his weakness overpower his duty," Sten said with such an air of finality that Wynne backed down.

Turning back to Aunn, she continued, "How can you justify this?"

Aunn shrugged. "It's like the demon said. We could not free him and killing him to prevent her from killing him would just be pointless and misguided." Not to mention that she really didn't care about the whole situation and would have just preferred for the demon to take the Templar and leave immediately instead of staying to ask permission. She had certainly managed to leave quickly enough once she'd gotten permission. Why was she expected to be bothered with minor annoyances like that anyway? She didn't know that Templar and was not at all concerned about his fate. Still, best not to tell Wynne that as that would only further enrage her and would not help her image in the slightest.

"She could have been lying!" Wynne claimed. "Demons do that, you know."

"I did hear something of that sort," Aunn acknowledged. "But surely you don't doubt that if the demon claimed we were bandits here to slaughter her and the children that he'd fight us to the death and we'd be forced to kill him?"

"It would be better than this mockery of a life he has now," Wynne sniffed.

"You are entitled to your opinion," Aunn said neutrally. "But what's done is done so there's little point dwelling on it when we've got a First Enchanter to save."

Wynne pursed her lips but said nothing.



Aunn was standing in a strangely hazy fortress and she wasn't quite sure what was going on.

"Ah, how are you liking Weisshaupt, my young friend?" Duncan's greeting her exorbitantly cheerful.

Aunn blinked up at him. "Duncan? Aren't you dead?" She vaguely remembered something about a horribly awkward conversation she'd been forced to participate in in a grudging attempt to comfort Alistair.

Duncan didn't seem put off by this but laughed merrily. "Oh, no, no, no. I have been close many times but death has not managed to get ahold of me yet. Are you feeling alright? It is strange that you would not remember how I survived everything."

"I don't remember," Aunn admitted, looking lost. "What happened?"

"We set the great underground lairs of the darkspawn aflame and destroyed them forever," Duncan proclaimed proudly. "You and Alistair did spectacular. I knew I was right to recruit you. You have made me very proud."

"The darkspawn are…gone?" Aunn repeated, disbelieving. "Forever?"

"That is what I just said," Duncan confirmed, a little amused at her incredulousness. "It was truly remarkable and a fitting end to the age-old struggle between we Wardens and our not-so-eternal foe."

"If all the darkspawn are gone," Aunn said again, still not quite able to grasp the concept. For as long as she remembered the darkspawn had been a constant in her life. Orzammar had always been under the threat of being annihilated if they relaxed their guard for but a moment or possibly even if they didn't. They had won and lost land to the darkspawn in a never-ending tug of war but land hadn't been reclaimed in generations and everyone knew that wasn't a good sign. To hear that the darkspawn were suddenly gone? That they had, against all odds, actually won? That was…that was… "That's wonderful. Orzammar…it's safe?"

"Safer than it's been in centuries," Duncan confirmed, smiling. "And your dwarven brethren are at last reclaiming their empire. It will take time, of course, but things are good."

"Then why am I here?" Aunn demanded. Something felt off but she didn't know what. She didn't want to know what, really, as this was good news. Great news, in fact, and far better than she'd ever expected. Still, she was an Aeducan and Aeducans didn't shy away from unpleasant realities. "You said this was Weisshaupt? That's thousands of miles away! Why would I be here and not in Orzammar?" It was true that she was an exile. It was also true that her Grey Warden status made that a non-issue and if she truly had a hand in destroying all darkspawn ever then chances were that her legal problems would sort themselves right out.

"Because you are a Grey Warden now," Duncan answered patiently.

"And?" Aunn didn't get it. "What does that have to do with anything? The Order of the Grey Wardens was founded at the tail end of the first Blight in order to stop the Blights and kill darkspawn. If all darkspawn are dead then there can be no more Blights so what did Grey Wardens even do?"

"We sing song about our past glory and serve as keepers of history," Duncan told her proudly. "We do this so that all might know of how grand and glorious our Order was back when there were darkspawn."

That stopped her cold. "Wait, what?"

"We sing songs about our glory and chronicle our history," Duncan repeated obligingly.

"That sounds…really, really boring," Aunn confessed. "And I'm actually having a bit of difficulty reconciling the Duncan I knew with…well, a bard."

Duncan simply shook his head at her. "When you knew me I was a man forged by fire and war. I did what I had to but I did not enjoy it. Now that that is behind me…how could I not be overjoyed?"

"Well, it's just…" Aunn trailed off, trying to put her thoughts in order. Something about this place made it so very difficult to think. That, at least, she knew was not a good sign. "If the darkspawn are gone then we are no longer needed. And if what you say is true about Orzammar then I know that it needs me." She turned to go.

"Wait!" Duncan cried out, sounding urgent.

"Yes?" Aunn asked politely.

"You can't just leave," Duncan told her solemnly.

Aunn's eyes narrowed. "And why not? Am I a prisoner here?"

Duncan forced a laugh. "You? A prisoner? Hardly. But we need you. Stay here, rest, enjoy yourself and help us to celebrate our glory."

"I have had more than enough of past glory," Aunn said firmly. Growing up in Orzammar, how could she not? "I need to find some of my own."

Duncan's expression changed then. Instead of amused benevolence there was barely concealed rage. "Fine. Have your darkspawn and your war. See where that will leave you in the end."

With that, he attacked. Aunn hadn't exactly been expecting that but she'd been raised to always be prepared for an attack at any moment so even if the generic-looking two Grey Wardens that she'd barely noticed standing off to the side joined in she was still able to fend them off with relative ease. It was quite fortunate that she still had her armor and weapons in this…whatever this was. She had to admit, she was a little peeved. It really should have been obvious that that was too good to be true and perhaps in some way she had realized it but…to get her hopes up like that just to find out it was all a lie? She didn't like that one bit, to say the least. Her usual coping method involved killing things and chances were good she'd need to do quite a bit of that to get out of this place.

The last thing she remembered was encountering another fantastic purple creature and concluding that it was also a demon. It spoke in the same sort of infuriatingly slow tone that desire demon had used but it was clearly a different sort since it sounded male and was not even attempting to be seductive. It was a huge mass of twisted flesh with only one eye open and staring lazily at her and no mouth to speak of, not that that prevented it from saying something about how hard they had been working and how much they clearly needed a rest. From around where its ears should be it had two long dangling objects that ended in a silver hoop earring and atop its head sat something that strongly resembled an upside-down vase. Just looking at it had been mildly disturbing and chances were good that that creature was behind whatever was going on now.

There was a flash and some sort of pedestal was revealed. Aunn wasn't quite sure if going near it was the best plan but a quick glance around assured her that there was no other way out. She approached the pedestal and it glowed again.



There was a man standing before her when she opened her eyes, dressed in mages robes and looking completely ineffectual. It was a little bizarre that that pedestal had managed to teleport her like that but this was quite clearly not real, whatever it was.

"Hello," the man said, his voice not doing anything more to make her think he was competent. "Did you escape, too?"

"I might have," Aunn allowed. Or she might still be trapped. Had she really moved at all even? "Are you real or just another faux-person?"

"Of course I'm real," the man said, looking a little affronted. "Why wouldn't I be? My name is Niall and I am a mage of the Circle."

"Niall…" Aunn repeated. That sounded familiar. "I think I heard of you. You took the litany, didn't you?"

"The Litany of Adralla?" Niall asked rhetorically. "I did. It was supposed to protect me from blood mages but I didn't expect to encounter such a powerful demon. My mistake, I suppose. Who are you?"

"My name is Aunn," she introduced. "I am a Grey Warden trying to deal with the mess Uldred created." And to think he had seemed so sensible at Ostagar…

Niall snorted. "You're doing a great job of it."

"We were doing fine until we met the demon!" Aunn insisted. "We'd killed everything in our way on this floor and the three floors below it."

"Well that won't really matter since you're stuck here now," Niall pointed out.

"I'm not going to stay stuck here," Aunn declared. "I left the one area I'm in and sooner or later I'll find a way out of here."

"That's what I thought, too," Niall said a bit ruefully. "But it's no use. There are five demons, you know, one of whom is here and the others are on four different islands that can only be reached through that pedestal. All of them would have to be defeated before you could even hope to find the sloth demon that is imprisoning us."

"I have yet to hear anything that might convince me that this was an impossible undertaking," Aunn prompted.

"You can't get very far on even this island without being able to turn into a mouse," Niall said bluntly.

Aunn blinked. "Oh. That might be problematic. I don't suppose you have any idea how one could go about doing that?"

Niall shrugged. "I am not certain. They say that you can only learn a new form when you have forgotten your own. Of course, by that time the sloth demon that has been feeding off of me for some time and will undoubtedly start feeding off of you soon enough if he hasn't already begun will have rendered it impossible for us to return."

"That's not very helpful," Aunn complained.

"I'm not exactly an expert at shape shifting here," Niall told her. Morrigan, as it happened, was so it really was too bad that she wasn't here. "Thought if I had to guess then I would say that you could learn it from another dreamer that has managed to forget and thus transform."

"I see," Aunn said unenthusiastically. It certainly wasn't much to go on but it was better than just standing around. "I didn't face the demon alone but with a few companions. Are they here as well, do you think? And where is here anyway?"

"If they are trapped as well then yes, they should be on some of the other islands. If they cannot escape like we did then you will either need to find them and free them yourself or they should become freed once the demon controlling this realm is destroyed. Keep in mind that the dreams they will be trapped in may be very good or may be nightmares but the point appears to be making sure they won't want to leave," Niall warned her. "So you'll need to be convincing. They may not even know who you are if you would serve as a strong impetus for them to leave."

"It's supposed to convince you to stay put, huh?" Aunn mused. She felt a strange sort of curiosity about what Niall's dream must have been like for him to have reached that conclusion and furthermore how he had managed to turn his back on it. Still, she wasn't about to tell him what her dream had been about and so could hardly ask now could she? He would either feel it too personal as well or expect reciprocity she didn't plan to offer. "My dream wasn't a very skillful one, then."

"Perhaps that was why you could tear yourself away from it," Niall posited. "As to where we are…we are in the Fade, Aunn. The land of dreamers."

Aunn's eyebrows shot up. "We're in the Fade? No, that can't be right. I'm a dwarf. Dwarves don't go to the Fade."

"Not by natural means, no," Niall conceded. "But the sloth demon forced you here. He really is very powerful to have managed that and do you see now how this entire endeavor is just pointless?"

"I see nothing of the sort," Aunn snapped. "Now if you'll excuse me I've got a mouse to learn to transform into."

"Have fun with that," Niall said, sounding highly skeptical. "And should you like to take a break at some point feel free to come back and visit."

Going to the pedestal would just take her to a different island and that wouldn't help her turn into a mouse here. Using one of the mouse holes she could see was also out of the question as she was, for once since coming to the Surface, too big to fit. There appeared to be a floating door a few feet above her but not only could she not reach it but it was translucent and so likely required a different manner of creature – perhaps one that she could learn to change into? If she could manage one transformation then there was no reason she couldn't manage more – and so that was also not an option. There was also an archway with a glowing purple field that she didn't quite know what to do with but it did seem to be her best chance. She reached out and touched it and found herself someplace new.

It looked very much like the rest of this island in the Fade so she was probably still on it. And ancestors help her, she was in the Fade. She felt a little ill and her head hurt, which she decided was probably the result of the unnaturalness of her presence here. She'd been on the Surface for only a few weeks and already she was taking trips to their dream-land. Oh joy. This was probably the least likely thing to have ever happened to her. Granted, she had also never really expected to end up on the Surface as a Grey Warden despite all her half-serious pleading but she had always known there was a possibility that someone would decisively get the best of her. She had rather thought this would end simply with her being hopelessly disgraced or outright killed but exiles did happen and she was supposed to have been killed anyway.

"Help me!" someone cried out and Aunn hurried ahead to see what was going on. Whether she would actually be providing any assistance was uncertain but at least she could see what was going on and maybe find someone to teach her to become a mouse. Wasn't it strange that she was actually seeking to become smaller that she was given her slight complex about everyone towering over her? But still, she had to do what she had to do regardless of personal preferences. That was a lesson she'd long ago learned but hadn't quite mastered as well as, say, certain little brothers she could mention.

There was just a minor demon – a rage demon, according to what Caunira had said when they had encountered a being just like this back in the Tower – attacking…a mouse. That was hardly a fair fight and you'd think that if it had another form available or even just its regular form it would revert back to that but maybe Niall was right and it had forgotten. Either way, this was exactly what she needed. Once Aunn decided to even the odds a little the rage demon was quickly done away with.

"Thank you," the mouse said woozily. "I fear that you have come too late for me, however."

Looking closer, Aunn saw that the mouse was bleeding. She supposed he'd know better than she would if the wound were truly fatal. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you," she said, wondering just how she was supposed to ask a dying mouse to teach her to become one without angering him and making him refuse her.

There was apparently little need for concern, however, as the mouse's next words were, "You killed that demon that had been tormenting me and that is truly enough. Here, if you want to save the others who are trapped here then you'll need to be able to move around more freely. I may be small but I can access places you can't. Here, I give you my form…"

As a myriad of images that one could only assume were necessary to make the transformation danced before Aunn's eyes, the mouse went limp. She supposed that meant that whoever that was was dead. What happened if you died in the Fade? If people went there when they slept every night and the Fade was populated by demons and other Fade spirits then surely dying wasn't such an uncommon thing. Did that make you die in the mortal world, the real world? And even if not, what if you died while you were trapped here? That sounded a bit more permanent. But if the deceased were supposed to come here when they died, at least for a little while before passing through to…wherever the deceased were supposed to go then did that mean that mouse was there already? Ah, well. That was a matter for the humans, the elves, the qunari to ponder. All she knew was that that wouldn't be her fate.

She eyed the mouse hole speculatively. Was it really that easy? Just think of becoming a mouse and she would be one? There was only one way to find out. Feeling a little foolish, Aunn closed her eyes and concentrated. When she opened them, she was on all fours and furry all over. Well, that answered that question then. Still, she disliked seeming so vulnerable and knew that she could not defend herself like this so she quickly scurried to the mouse hole and climbed through.

It came out a few feet away from Niall. Hoping that she hadn't managed to get herself stuck in this overly-diminutive form, Aunn tried to turn back. To her great relief, she succeeded.

Niall jumped as he watched her resume her dwarven form. "What was that? You…you've managed to become a mouse? And in just ten minutes?"

Aunn nodded triumphantly. "I did. It really isn't all that hard when you've got somebody to teach you. I think I could teach you how to do it if you want."

But Niall shook his head. "I…I can't. Even could I turn into a mouse it would only be to hide. I'm not nearly as brave as you are and I can't go around to the other islands and fight off demons and who knows what else. I will stay here."

"If you're certain," Aunn said, losing interest and making her way to the pedestal. She really had no patience with defeatists and Niall wasn't even scandalous like Denek Helmi to make up for his resigned approach to life. Besides, actually getting through to him would take time and she wasn't entirely sure that she had enough of it as it was as she had five demons to kill, eight companions to find and free, and then a final sloth demon to confront and hoping that that would wake them all.



Aunn loved her species, she really did, but she could honestly say she had never been so happy to be a dwarf before now. She had no way of gauging time but she judged that she had been in the Fade for a few hours now and sodding stone was it boring. Everything looked the same and it was like a freaking maze without any shortcuts. One would think the three other forms she had learned to turn into (some sort of burning man, a tall spirit thing that could make use of the translucent doors, and a golem) would make things more interesting, not to mention all of the demons, shades, chantry personnel, insane mages, and golems she had had to deal with. It hadn't though. Not even slightly. Still, she had taken down the five demons Niall had told her would open the way to the Sloth demon – and still refused to come with her when she had stopped by after killing the fifth demon on his island. One really had to wonder why he had even bothered leaving his nightmare if he wasn't actually going to do anything – and the pedestal showed she could go face the sloth demon now.

Aunn had nothing but the utmost confidence in her abilities, of course, but she could also now see where her companions were being held and if this sloth demon was powerful enough to trap them all here and to control this section of the Fade with the other reasonably powerful demons serving it – she had especially hated the one that had resembled an ogre but was quite pleased to discover that turning into a golem was a great deterrent from it trying to pick her up – then backup might be a good idea. If nothing else it would make the fight easier.

The first nightmare she came to was Trian's. He didn't look particularly traumatized and there didn't appear to be anything keeping him here except for the warm sun that practically invited him to take a nap.

"Trian?" Aunn called out, hoping that he wasn't going to be difficult or not wake up. She needn't have worried, though, as – unlike his namesake – her mabari loved her and perked right up at the sound of her voice.
Trian got up and trotted over to her, wagging his tail.

"Did you have a nice nap?" Aunn asked, still not quite in the practice of talking to a dog yet. Still, if it was really supposed to be intelligent then it probably understood her and would be pleased that she took the time to ask.
Trian nodded, his tail wagging more enthusiastically.

"I've been looking for you and the others all over. I've mostly managed to get us out of here but I have one last demon to kill. Will you help me?" Aunn asked.

Trian nodded again and just as Aunn was about to make her way to the pedestal with her dog in tow, he simply faded away before her eyes. Okay, what in the world was that? She hadn't just disappeared when she had decided to leave her dream. She had had to use the pedestal to move on and Trian clearly had done nothing of the sort as the pedestal was still a few feet behind her. Niall hadn't mentioned anything about fading away either. Was it because she had had to help Trian decide to move on? What was the point in going around and collecting her companions so that she could have them with her for the fight with the sloth demon if they were just going to up and disappear on her? Unless they were going to appear on the center island with the sloth demon? It seemed unlikely but a slim chance for aid was better than none and maybe her other companions wouldn't disappear the same way. She just hoped that she wasn't using up all the time she had to return to the real world.

Heading back to the pedestal, she selected another nightmare and saw…Sten, sitting around with two other qunari who looked almost identical to him. Was this part of his Fade dream or did the qunari really look so similar? Or at least these three.

"Sten?" Aunn said, addressing herself to the one closest to her that she thought was her companion. He was in quality silver armor instead of the civilian clothes he had been wearing in the cage and had yet to find a replacement for – and come to think of it, why had Lothering possessed clothes that could fit a qunari anyway? – like his companions and she hoped she hadn't gotten it wrong.

"Yes?" Sten asked, apparently indeed the man she had thought he was.

"This isn't real. You're in the Fade," Aunn said flatly, wondering how difficult it would be to persuade him.

"I know," Sten admitted, looking oddly content. "These men died at the spot I confronted the scavenger. Still, it is a nice dream."

"The Sten is talking about strange things again," one of the other qunari remarked.

"I know. He really needs to relax more," the other agreed.

" 'The Sten'?" Aunn repeated. "That sounds like a rank. Does that mean that that's not your name?"

"Names are for reproductive purposes only," Sten replied. "And you could not pronounce mine. I am a Sten therefore that title is enough." That was unusual, to be sure. Still, she could pester him for more details if she still cared later.

"You swore to follow me as we stood against the Blight," Aunn reminded him. "And no matter how nice a dream this may be, it is not real. It's like what you said about that Templar earlier: giving in to these temptations is a weakness."

"You are right," Sten told her, standing up. "Goodbye."

"You can't just leave!" one of them said.

"I can," Sten disagreed.

"You would abandon us to die again, Sten?" the other asked angrily. "I will not watch that happen twice!"

"You are not my men," Sten said, drawing his sword.

Aunn moved to aid him but he held up a hand to stop her. Apparently he had made up his mind to do it himself and his faux-friends did not give him any trouble.

"You're not going to disappear on me now that your dream is gone, are you?" Aunn asked apprehensively.

Sten shook his head. "No, I…" he paused. "I feel myself being drawn away so yes."

Aunn could only watch as her second companion disappeared. Well, there wasn't anything for it but to try again and hope that they would appear when she needed them.

The next dream she entered was Angélique's, which she could tell straight away as she was surrounded by a maze of mirrors. Great, another maze. She really did hate mazes, not the least because she was so very bad at them. Perhaps the fact that they took her forever was part of what added to the tedium? She eventually found the center, however, and saw Angélique tearing up in front of a mirror. The mage looked normal enough from what she could tell but the mirror reflected a great deal of acne that wasn't present on the actual girl. Oh, that wasn't her problem, was it? Please tell her that wasn't the problem.

"Angélique?" Aunn called out.

"Don't look at me!" Angélique cried out, covering her face.

"This isn't real," Aunn told her, hoping against hope she'd have the patience to deal with this but very much doubting that she would.

"You mean because we're in the Fade?" Angélique asked. "Yeah, I know. It's kind of obvious, really, if you've ever been here before. Everything's a lot less clear than it is in the real world plus we're supposed to be in the Circle Tower."

"Wait…" Aunn trailed off, confused. "If you know that this isn't real then why haven't you left like I did?"

"It doesn't matter that this is the Fade," Angélique explained despondently. "I can't go anywhere looking like this! I mean, God, I'm hideous! Well, actually, no, I don't think it's possible for me to be hideous. But all this horrible acne…It's best that I just stay here and wait for it to go away where nobody can see me."

Aunn didn't even know what to say about that. She herself was very pretty and was happy about that but should something happen to mar her looks she wouldn't go isolating herself until the situation got better. That was just so very shallow and pointless and…she had an idea. "You've presumably had acne before, right?"

Angélique nodded miserably. "Never so much at once, though, and Anders knew how to magic it away so whenever I got any I could always go to him…"

"And why can't you do that this time?" Aunn asked. Well, apart from the fact that they were in the Fade.

"Anders escaped from the Tower again when all the abominations showed up," Angélique revealed. "He does that sometimes. I think this is his sixth or seventh trip."

"I see," Aunn said. This Anders sounded like quite the character and she wasn't sure if she was disappointed she couldn't meet him or relieved. "Well, you know that acne feels different than unblemished skin, right."

Angélique nodded vehemently. "Without a doubt."

"You don't actually have any acne, Angélique. The mirror is lying to you," Aunn informed her. "I know you'll probably find that difficult to believe but you can reach up and feel your smooth skin for yourself."

With a trembling, uncertain hand Angélique reached up and touched one of the places the mirror claimed was acne-ridden. Upon finding that it wasn't, her eyes widened in joy and a brilliant smile lit up her face. "You were right! I couldn't believe you were but…you were right! Thank you so much! I can go help kill demons or whatever you need done now." She cocked her head. "Oh, no, wait. I feel myself being drawn somewhere else. I'll catch up with you later and make sure to kill any demons I run across in the meantime, okay?"

With that, Angélique was gone. And good riddance. The next dream she found was Wynne's. Aunn knew that she should go try and reason with the clearly-distraught elderly mage but she had just had to deal with Angélique's vanity and so she really didn't feel up to dealing with such a difficult old woman. Honestly, Aunn had only met her twice and yet already it seemed like Wynne was expecting her to be a Paragon. Of course, as a princess she was just about the furthest thing from it and so before Wynne could spot her, Aunn turned right back around and entered another Fade dream. Niall said she'd be fine when the sloth demon was killed and this way she wasn't making her overexert herself like she'd promised Petra.

Alistair was the next one she had to convince to leave and watch abruptly vanish it would seem. "Hey, hey Aunn! Come here, I'd like you to meet my sister," he said once he saw her, sounding happier than she'd ever heard him sound before. He gestured to a woman who vaguely resembled him and two children playing on the ground. "This is Goldanna and these are her two children."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Aunn said, shaking Goldanna's hand. Sure, she wasn't real and Aunn had to convince Alistair to abandon this little scene of domestic bliss but that was hardly an excuse to be impolite, now was it?

"And you," Goldanna returned sweetly. "Would you like to stay for supper?"

"Oh, oh you should definitely do that!" Alistair exclaimed. "Goldanna makes the best shepherd's pie. And the cheese! You have not lived until you've tried my sister's cheese."

"I didn't realize you had a sister," Aunn said carefully. "You left me with the impression that you were all alone in the world."

"Well, I do," Alistair confirmed. "And I was but now I'm not anymore. I mostly didn't tell you about her as we hadn't met but I'd always wanted to go introduce myself and now I have! She's the best."

"I'm sure she is," Aunn said diplomatically, realizing she'd get nowhere by insulting what Alistair presumed to be his family. "But what about the Blight? You have a responsibility, you know."

Alistair winced. "I know but…this is the first time in my life I've ever been truly happy. Living at Eamon's didn't make me happy as I was always reminded that I didn't belong, especially once Isolde came into the picture. The Chantry definitely didn't make me happy. I thought being a Grey Warden would make me happy but it didn't. Duncan's dead and we're on the run…I know the Blight has to be stopped but can't you do it without me? I'm not much help anyhow."

"Of course you're a huge help, Alistair," Aunn claimed. And they really couldn't afford to lose anybody at this point even if he weren't. Plus, he was her only source of information about the Wardens. "And I can't do this without you. Besides, think of Goldanna and the children. What will happen to them if you don't help me stop the Blight and the darkspawn overrun all of Ferelden?"

"I…" Alistair stopped, looking conflicted. His shoulders drooped. "You're right. I have a duty. There are people to protect and Duncan is counting on the two of us to slay the Archdemon."

"Brother?" Goldanna asked, sounding upset. "You're not…leaving, are you? But I need you here."

"Don't go, Uncle Alistair!" one of the children begged.

"We love you!" the other one cried out.

Alistair closed his eyes. "I'm sorry. I don't want to leave – really, I don't – but I have to. I have a responsibility."

"You're not getting away that easily," Goldanna hissed as she and the children attacked.

"What…what was that?" Alistair demanded once his Fade family were dead. "Why did they just attack me? Did I just kill my sister and her children?"

"No, you didn't," Aunn assured him. "We're in the Fade and they were just trying to force you to waste away here. Your family is fine."

"Then it wasn't real," Alistair said, his face unreadable.

"That's a good thing, right? You can still find your sister once we're out of here," Aunn pointed out.

"Yes, except…I've known who and where she is for six months now. I'm not sure I can go face the possibility of her not being who I want her to be," Alistair confessed. "And what if she doesn't like me? Or resents me? I don't want to be rejected by my only family."

Aunn wasn't quite sure what to say to that. She herself had been rejected by her family and it had not been a pleasant experience but she at least understood why. If Goldanna repudiated Alistair because she simply didn't like him or had no use for a brother who came out of nowhere then that would probably be worse. "Well," she said awkwardly. "We'll deal with that when we're out of here."

"Right," Alistair nodded, looking determined. "I…hey, wait…Where are you going?" he asked as he started fading away.

"I'm not going anywhere," Aunn corrected. "And I'm not sure where you're going. Don't worry, though. This happened with the others, too."

The next nightmare was Caunira's. She was staring in horror at Angélique and a man resembling Niall as they were organizing what appeared to be a stockroom.

"Caunira?" Aunn said softly.

"Aunn," Caunira said shakily. "What are you doing here?"

"I was looking for you," Aunn replied. "Can you tell me what's going on here?"

Caunira's face crumpled. "It's awful. Angélique and Jowan…they're Tranquil."

That would certain explain why Angélique had stopped talking about her looks and looked rather blank and also why Caunira was so upset. "Why?"

"Jowan…he found out that this would happen, you know. He had a girlfriend, Lily, who was a chantry sister. She wasn't allowed to date anyway and certainly not a mage. Jowan was suspected of dabbling in blood magic because he didn't think he was powerful enough to pass his Harrowing and so when Lily warned him they came to me to help them destroy Jowan's phylactery so they could escape," Caunira began.

"And what does Angélique have to do with this?" Aunn pressed. "Did you get caught?"

"I said no," Caunira confessed. "Angélique agreed to help them and she got caught. Jowan…Jowan used blood magic to escape but Lily refused to go and Angélique's phylactery meant she couldn't go with him. This is all my fault!"

"If this Jowan escaped then how could he be tranquil here?" Aunn asked reasonably.

"Clearly they caught him and did the Rite of Tranquility afterwards," Caunira answered. Her brow furrowed. "Although… Angélique passed her Harrowing. They don't make people tranquil after they do that or Maker knows they would have done it to Anders years ago. Maybe they made an exception?"

"You're in the Fade," Aunn told her. "The tranquil can't go into the Fade."

Caunira looked stunned. "I…you're right. And we are in the Fade. I just…it hadn't occurred to me because this has been my worst-case scenario for weeks. So you're saying Jowan and Angélique are okay?"

"I don't even know who Jowan is," Aunn replied. "But Angélique is fine. I just ran into her a few minutes ago and she was anguished because she thought she had acne."

Caunira managed a smile. "That certainly sounds like her. So what now? How did we get here? It was that demon, wasn't it?"

"It was," Aunn confirmed, nodding. "And now…now you disappear and I go find Morrigan and Leliana."

"Disappear?" Caunira asked, puzzled. "Why would I…oh."

With that, she vanished and Aunn made her way to her next companion's nightmare.

Leliana was kneeling on the floor on what looked to be the Lothering Chantry and he revered mother stood over her.

"Find peace, child," she said serenely.

"Leliana? What are you doing?" Aunn asked uncertainly.

Leliana raised her head to meet Aunn's eyes. "I am praying, of course. I must seek penance. Who are you?"

Aunn was about to ask what in the world 'praying' was but she supposed that could wait. Leliana seemed more far gone than the others if she couldn't even remember who she was. Although hadn't Niall said something about how if her very presence would cause someone to leave then they might not remember her? But why…because she was a Warden and Leliana had crazy visions. How could she forget? "I am a Grey Warden. Don't you recognize me from your vision?"

Leliana's eyes narrowed in contemplation. "My…vision? You know, you do look-"

"We have talked about this, Sister Leliana!" the revered mother interrupted. "You did not receive a vision from the Maker and must stay here and seek penance instead." She reached a comforting hand out but Leliana drew back.

"You…you are not my revered mother. She was not certain if the vision came from the Maker but she knew that it was helping me be a better person. I don't know who you are but I want nothing to do with you. I'm going to follow my vision and I think this Grey Warden is the key," Leliana declared boldly as she stood up.

"I'm not letting you get away that easily!" the revered mother cried as she attacked them. Two on one, of course, meant that the demon might as well not have bothered.

"Aunn!" Leliana exclaimed. "I can't believe that I forgot about you like that! I'm so sorry!"

"Don't worry about it," Aunn assured her. "It wasn't your fault."

"Still, thank you for saving me," Leliana said. "I've learned all I can from that Chantry and so it's time for me to…hey, where are you going?"

"First you, then Alistair," Aunn sighed. "What makes you think that I'm going somewhere when you're the one fading away?"

There was no answer as Leliana was gone. That meant that all she had to do was go find Morrigan and then she could face the sloth demon.

"Stop pestering me, old woman!" Morrigan scowled the moment Aunn came into view.

"How could you speak that way to your dear mother?" a poor imitation of Flemeth was asking, hurt. "Don't you love me?"

"Love you? You're not even my mother," Morrigan sneered. "Be gone."

Flemeth decided to change tactics and smacked Morrigan across the face. "Don't talk like that to me, girl!"

"Better," Morrigan approved. "But 'tis too little, too late, I fear."

"You've worked out that this isn't real, then?" Aunn asked.

Morrigan turned to face her. "Of course I have. Does this seem at all realistic to you?"

"Well, no," Aunn admitted.

"Besides, I've been taught better than this. It's about time you showed up. I was almost ready to start killing this thing without you," Morrigan declared. "In fact…" She took out her staff and shot ice at her pretend mother and when she was frozen Morrigan shattered the ice and the demon along with it. "Now, I'm ready to go. I…no, not this again!" she complained as she faded out.

At least she wouldn't have long to wait as Aunn was heading to the sloth demon next and she really hoped her companions would be there or she had just wasted quite a bit of time getting through to them. She approached the pedestal for what she hoped would be the final time and went to the main island.

The sloth demon was there with his back to her but he turned around once he noticed her presence. "What is this? An escaped slave?"

The seven companions Aunn had bothered freeing appeared then.

"Several escaped slaves, then," the sloth demon corrected. "What's the matter? Did you not like where I put you? If you go back I promise that I'll try harder next time."

"No thanks," Aunn said curtly. "We just want you dead so we can leave."

"That's so selfish," the demon reprimanded. "Can't you think about somebody else for a change?"

"Occasionally," Aunn allowed. "Can you?"

The demon responding by shooting a fireball at her. Aunn soon became glad that she took the time to bring along her companions as they had to kill that demon a good half a dozen times before it finally stopped moving.

"Did we get it?" Angélique asked hopefully. "Honestly, that thing was so annoying. If this is what all sloth demons are like then I'm glad I didn't fight the one in my-"

"Angélique!" Caunira hissed. "We can't talk about that."

Angélique sighed. "Fine…"

The world started changing and Aunn found herself back in front of Niall, alone.

"You…you did it!" Niall exclaimed. "I didn't think it was possible and you did it! You're so much stronger than me. Listen, this realm won't last much longer. You need to go to the pedestal and head back to the mortal world. Take the litany of my corpse and use it against Uldred-"

"Wait," Aunn interrupted as what he said sunk in. "Off of your corpse? What do you mean?"

"I've been in here far longer than you have," Niall said with a rueful smile. "The demon has been feeding off of me for too long. I can't return. I was never meant to be a hero, you know. Maybe trying to change that was a mistake."
Aunn hadn't actually liked Niall but there was something undeniably tragic about all of this and there wasn't anyone around to see her being sentimental anyway. "You did a lot to save the Circle," she argued. "You were the one who thought of using the Litany of Adralla when you saw there were blood mages afoot and you're the one who brought it all the way here. We can use it and we can save the Circle now thanks to you. Without your help we might have gone charging in to save Irving and been mind-controlled for our trouble."

"Desperate times, huh?" Niall asked with a weak chuckle. "My mother always said I was meant for great things. I hope I haven't disappointed her."

"You didn't," Aunn insisted. "You're making this possible. I'm sorry I couldn't save you."

"Thank you," Niall told her gently. "Now go, before it's too late for everyone else."



Aunn opened her eyes blearily and slowly sat up. She appeared to be back in the real world which was a relief as dwarves just weren't meant to go into the Fade and it seemed like a horrid place anyway so it wasn't like they were missing out. In fact, she could almost feel sorry for all the non-dwarves for having to go there every single night. Looking around, she could see that the demon was gone but Niall's corpse remained. She searched through his pockets until she found a scroll. "Is this the Litany?" she asked Wynne, judging her to be the most likely to know.

Wynne nodded. "It is indeed. What just happened? The last thing I remembered I was burying my apprentices…"

"We were in the Fade, obviously," Angélique replied. "Did you not notice or something? Because that's kind of sad. Even Aunn noticed and she's never been there before."

"Angélique, don't be rude," Caunira said tiredly.

"What? I'm not!" Angélique insisted. "I just don't understand how she couldn't have noticed. Isn't she supposed to have some sort of special affinity with the fade?"

Wynne pointed ignored that and said instead, "Now that we have the Litany we can go face Uldred with a higher chance of success."

"You'd better hold onto this," Aunn said, handing Wynne the Litany. "I can't cast spells."

"Good idea," Wynne agreed. "Of course, this means that I won't be as useful if it comes down to a fight because I'll need to be on the lookout for mind domination and prevent it but that is the most important thing here and I'm sure you can handle it without me."

"There isn't much of the tower left," Caunira told them. "Just through these doors are the stairway leading up the top floor, which is just the Harrowing Chamber. Odds are the Uldred and Irving are up there."

Hopefully Irving could be saved so they could use the mages to fight the Blight but if not they had pretty much killed everything they came across so there was always the Templars.

Modifié par Sarah1281, 07 juillet 2010 - 01:39 .

[Sarah1281]

Chapter Ten: Something You Forgot to Mention Leliana?

"Is this really necessary?" Wynne asked, scowling, as Aunn, Leliana, and Alistair worked diligently to remove all of the scales from the drake they had just killed while Trian watched in rapt interest. Once the sloth demon had been killed, another door had opened up revealing the drake and a few dragonlings which were quickly disposed of. What wasn't so quick, however, was the scale harvesting.

"Probably not," Aunn admitted. "But the guy we're going to for armor in Denerim was looking for some drake scales and if we bring him some we might be able to get armor made out of the scales from a drake that we killed. How impressive is that?"

"It doesn't really matter how impressive or not it is," Wynne insisted. "You can always come back and do this after we've saved the Tower. That dead drake isn't going anywhere."

"And neither is Uldred," Aunn countered.

"But the time you're wasting on this drake might be the difference between Irving's life or death!" Wynne exclaimed urgently. "Does that mean nothing to you?"

Morrigan snorted.

Wynne turned to glare angrily at her. "What? You think this is amusing? The Circle could be losing its only hope of not being annulled this very second!"

"In Orlais we had more faith in our highest-ranking mage," Morrigan deadpanned. "Although clearly the Ferelden First Enchanter cannot possibly wait half an hour while we finish up here. And let me tell you, if he is considered the most wise and powerful of you all then I really despair the conditions of the Circle."

"I thought you already did," Caunira reminded her.

"Even more so then before," Morrigan clarified. "Which is a feat that I honestly had not thought possibly so congratulations for proving me wrong."

"It was nothing," Angélique said modestly, apparently interpreting Morrigan's congratulations as sincere.

"We're done," Leliana announced as she deftly removed the final drake scale and putting it in her pack. "It looks a little strange without any of its scales but I'm sure we will be able to make good use of them."

"If the smith in Denerim does not have any qunari armor then this will do for material," Sten informed them.

"We certainly have enough scales," Aunn agreed readily.

"Maybe we should hurry up and go find Uldred before it's too late?" Alistair suggested, eyeing the incredibly peeved Wynne nervously.

They continued to the room just before the Harrowing chamber. A lone Templar was kneeling on the other side of the room and rocking back and forth, trapped behind some sort of giant purple force field.

"Is that…" Angélique asked uncertainly. "It is! Hello, Edward! What are you doing here?"

The Templar stiffened at the sound of her voice and moaned, "No, not again…Why must I be tormented thus by these visions of Angélique?"

"You've been having visions of Angélique?" Caunira asked sympathetically. "I am so, so very sorry for you."

"Visions?" Angélique asked, surprised. "Does that mean you've been thinking about me, Edward? How sweet. You must have been so worried! Not to worry, though. I'm perfectly fine."

"You're not real. You may look real, you may feel real, you may even taste real but I know that you're not. You promise so much, everything I've ever wanted, if I just let go. I'm stronger than that, though," the Templar insisted, closing his eyes tightly. He opened them again and rose to his feet in horror, allowing Aunn to see that this was the Templar Cullen that she had talked to when she and Duncan had been here a few weeks ago. She really might have guessed given his apparent and inexplicable obsession with Angélique. Yes, the girl was probably the most beautiful person she'd ever met but she was such a shallow creature that her appeal was frankly lost on Aunn. How many Templars could possibly be blinded by her beauty anyway? "No…that's always worked before! Why isn't this working?"

"I would hazard a guess that that is because this time she is unfortunately quite real," Morrigan said.

"He has done well to withstand the demon," Sten opined.

"You should be more understanding, Morrigan," Leliana lectured. "This poor man has obviously been without food or water for several days and appears to have been psychologically tortured as well."

"I have," Cullen confirmed. "It was...terrible. My men are all dead. The mages captured us and started planting these visions in our heads, trying to break us. They took my men away one after the other as they broke and I don't know what happened to them. Nothing good, I'm sure. If they're not already dead then I have no doubt that they wish they were. I'm the only one left and I'm not sure how much longer I can…but no! I have to stay strong."

"That sounds really bad, Edward," Angélique said, the situation bad enough that she was trying to be sympathetic but still managing to get his name wrong. "I'm sorry. We've killed most of the blood mages and we'll make sure to kill the rest soon, okay? Then you can rest."

Cullen laughed bitterly. "Don't you see? It's all of them! The only mages that you'll find up in the Harrowing chamber are blood mages or soon-to-be blood mages. I…I'm not sure what has happened to you three. You haven't been up to that Chamber or I would have seen you. That means that you may not be blood mages but there is no way to know for sure! Still, I loved you once, Angélique, so I hope that you aren't."

Angélique's eyes widened. "You…what? When did this happen?"

"Years," Caunira replied. "You never noticed."

"I don't know what to say," Angélique confessed, having clearly never been in that position before where she'd been confronted by the realities of other people's strange affection for her. "Edward…"

"It doesn't matter," Cullen said wearily, shaking his head. "It's in the past now. And to think…I used to feel sorry for you mages. I didn't understand just how necessary the rules Greagoir enforced so thoroughly really are. In fact, it's clear that he didn't go far enough or else this never would have been allowed to happen."

"Not all mages are like that," Wynne argued. "Irving's not, certainly. And Uldred never would have dared to do what he did if he wasn't promised support by Teyrn Loghain."

"This was just the catalyst," Cullen declared heatedly. "They were already blood mages and they already wanted to take control! If they hadn't been lead to believe they would be supported then the rebellion would just come later! And Irving has been up with the others for days! You can't trust him. You can't save him. You can't save any of them."

"You don't know that," Aunn spoke up. "And Wynne doesn't know that they can be saved. The fact of the matter is that we won't know until we get to that chamber."

"If you get up there you may be able to tell that they are all abominations," Cullen told her. "But you won't ever be able to tell that they aren't."

"Greagoir is willing to accept Irving's word," Caunira shot back.

Cullen laughed again, a harsh, angry sound. "Irving's word? What does Irving know? He prides himself on knowing everything that goes on here but he hadn't the slightest idea of what Uldred and the others were up to. I do not believe he was in on it, initially, but even if he has not been corrupted – which he probably has – then I wouldn't trust him to know a blood mage that wasn't actively cutting themselves open to power their spells in front of him!"

"That will be something for Greagoir to decide, I'm sure," Aunn told him, wondering vaguely if he had a point. Still, that wasn't really her problem and she didn't have nearly the experience or knowledge on the subject that the Templars did and Greagoir, at least, seemed to really want the mages to be salvageable though she didn't think it would interfere with his duty if it came to that. "You can make your case to him and see what he wants to do about it. In the meantime, we need to kill Uldred and his followers or we'll never be able to retake the Tower no matter what happens with the mages."

"No one ever listens," Cullen murmured ruefully. "Why does no one ever listen?"

"I hope you feel better, Edward," Angélique said awkwardly as she hurried up the stairs to the Harrowing chamber.
Aunn stepped into the room just in time to see an exhausted-looking mage throw his head back and scream as some sort of energy shot out of the hands of a mage she identified as Uldred and several demons surrounding him. The masses of huddled, frightened mages looked away in horrified disgust as the unfortunate man slowly grew into another demon. She could see Irving himself was still alive but not looking too good.

The demons spotted the group before Uldred did and he turned around slowly to face them. "Ah, welcome to my little revelry. I don't recognize all of you, of course, though I know a few. There are the two Grey Wardens from Ostagar – congratulations on surviving, by the way – and, as is only to be expected, three of my fellow mages. It figures that you would be here, Wynne. Ines is right: you never can leave well enough alone, can you? And Caunira and Angélique: Irving's star pupils. He was always so proud of you both though I honestly didn't see what all the fuss was about. Especially Angélique. She's good at magic, I won't deny that, but she's so horrible!"

"You're one to talk," Caunira defended her for once. "You're trying to turn everyone into abominations!"

"Trying?" Uldred repeated, chuckling. "Who's trying? I'm succeeding. Even Irving is coming along nicely, aren't you Irving?"

Irving looked like he was gathering his strength to speak. "No…kill him…"

"Oh, you're a wily one," Uldred noted, sounding amused. "Don't worry. I'll electrocute that out of you once I'm done dealing with our guests. I don't suppose you would consent to willingly accepting demons?"

"That's not going to happen," Aunn said flatly. "You know, you seemed so reasonable at Ostagar…"

"Ostagar was quite some time ago," Uldred informed her flippantly. "Almost another lifetime ago. I was a, shall we say, different person back then."

Alistair started. "You're…you're an abomination!"

"That's such an ugly word," Uldred rebuked mockingly. "But when the shoe fits…" He leaned back and smiled as he grew to reveal himself as a large demon that resembled an ogre.

"This is a pride demon," Wynne warned quietly. "They are the most powerful of the demon hierarchy so be careful and keep him distracted while I use the Litany to protect the mages."

Sten, Alistair, and Leliana went after the abominations first while Trian, the mages not occupied with the Litany, and Aunn headed straight after Uldred himself. Even though she and Trian were both attacking him head-on, Uldred decided he'd rather focus on crushing her than her dog and so kept attempting to pick her up while Angélique, Caunira, and Morrigan were hurtling spells at him. Tragically, this meant her effectiveness was rather limited as she kept needing to move to evade the giant fists attempting to close in on her. She had never wished she was back in the Fade so badly – or at all – so she could simply turn into a golem and avoid the problem altogether.

Still, she supposed she was serving as a distraction and that was really enough. Besides, his non-attempted smashing or grabbing attacks seemed to involve throwing ice, fire, or lightning at her and, as a dwarf, she really was the person most equipped to handle the magical attacks. Aunn got a few quick reprieves whenever Uldred would glance over at one of the mages and gestured towards them. Immediately, they started to shake and white light began radiating from them but Wynne was always ready with the Litany and promptly blocked Uldred's attempt. It took him six tries before he realized that turning another mage into an abomination just wasn't going to happen at the moment and in his frustration his attacks were twice as ferocious. After that, he did actually manage to pick Aunn up at one point (to her eternal annoyance) but she simply relied on her usual escape tactic of sawing through his fingers – fortunately his weren't any stronger than the ogre fingers she usually removed – and was quickly freed.

Finally, Alistair saw his chance and came from out of nowhere to rip open Uldred's entire backside with his sword. As Uldred tumbled over, Alistair held out his sword and grinned, posing dramatically. "Admit it. That was pretty amazing."

"I had it under control," Aunn claimed. "Seriously, were you even in that fight?"

"Not until the end, no," Alistair admitted. "Which is part of what made me being the one to kill him so epic."

"It might have been more impressive if he had any idea that you were there," Aunn told him.

"The fact he lacked awareness of his surrounding does not take away from the glory of my finishing move," Alistair replied cheekily.

"You know what? I don't even care," Aunn said, turning away from the conversation to look over the mages. She wasn't positive but it looked like there were about the same number of them as there had been before the fight so it looked like Wynne had done her job with the Litany. More importantly, the more-valuable-against-darkspawn-than-Templars Irving was still alive so the Circle could be salvaged.

"Irving! You're alive!" Angélique cried out, rushing immediately to his side. "Are you okay? You didn't become a blood mage, did you?"

"Yes, Angélique , I'm fine," Irving assured her. "Or rather, I will be. And of course I'm not a blood mage! Whoever gave you that idea?"

"Edward did," Angélique answered promptly. "Well…actually he wasn't really sure but he said you'd been up here a long time so you probably were." She apparently had decided against telling the elderly First Enchanter what else the tortured Templar had said about him. Well, either that or she hadn't been listening. Either were really valid theories when it came to Angélique.

"Edward?" Irving frowned, not appearing to know who that was.

"Cullen," Caunira joined the reunion, followed closely by Wynne. "Angélique just can't seem to remember his name although she has, at least, discovered that he's in love with her. Or was. He was tortured and, well…he's in pretty bad shape mentally as well as physically."

"I am confident that Greagoir will be able to handle that," Irving declared. "I take it you were behind this most unexpected rescue, Wynne?"

Wynne looked uncomfortable. "I had survivors, many of them children, to protect and the barrier I set up was the only thing keeping the demons from attacking us. I couldn't possibly fight my way up here alone. Once the Grey Wardens and their companions convinced Greagoir to let them in, however, we were able to form a rescue party."

"Grey Wardens?" Irving looked over at Aunn and Alistair. "Yes, I do remember you from when Duncan passed through here before Ostagar."

"We are here to seek the aid of the mages against the Archdemon," Aunn announced. "I understand that it will take you awhile to rebuild and recover but we've still got two more treaties to call upon so chances are that you will have the time you need."

"Assuming Greagoir does not have our Circle annulled then we will aid you," Irving promised.



Cullen was not pleased to see Angélique and Caunira helping Irving down the stairs, to say the least. By the time the entire procession of mages had made their way out of the Harrowing chamber he looked outright horrified.

"This many blood mages…" he had murmured faintly as he followed them down to where the Templars were undoubtedly still running about in a frantic.

"Oh, Wynne! Thank goodness you're safe!" Petra exclaimed the moment she saw them approach. Aunn could see Moira sitting by herself in a corner. It appeared that the blood mage had decided to honor her promise after all. "And you've managed to save Irving, too!"

"Yes, Petra, I'm fine," Wynne assured her worried younger friend with a warm smile. "And now so is the Circle."
Of course, they'd completely forgotten about the giant door the Templars were using to seal themselves away from the rest of the Tower. Alistair knocked on it a few times but there was no answer so he started kicking it.

"What?" an irritated-sounding Templar demanded after approximately five minutes of non-stop banging.

"It's the Grey Wardens," Alistair told them. "Let us out."

"I'm sorry," the Templar said, not sounding very sorry at all. "But you knew the risks before you went in there. Until the Rite of Annulment arrives, no one is going in or out unless Irving says it's safe."

"It's safe," Irving obligingly assured him.

"Is that…Irving?" the Templar asked, sounding shocked. "Wait right there for a moment."

"Like we can do anything else," Morrigan said dryly. "You know, this experience really has done wonders to validate my entire childhood."

"Way to think positive, Morrigan," Leliana cheered.

"This is a waste of time," Sten said. "If we were planning on killing them now we would be planning on killing later."

"Do you want to be stuck here until aid from Denerim arrives?" Aunn demanded.

"No."

"Then let's not say anything about killing them," Aunn suggested.

Sten didn't deign to answer which she took to meant that he agreed.

"Irving?" Greagoir's voice called out. "Is that really you?"

"It is indeed," Irving confirmed. "You could even visually confirm it if you opened the door."

"Kaidan, open the door," Greagoir ordered.

Slowly, the giant door began to creek open again.

Greagoir's eyes widened as he saw just how many of the mages still lived. "Alright, let's not have everyone crowd here all at once. If you're Irving, aren't a mage, or…helped the Wardens clear the Tower then step through. Everyone else wait where you are."

Once the requested people had passed through the doors, Greagoir continued, "Maker's Breath, Irving, I never thought I'd see you again. I am glad, for once, to be wrong."

Irving managed a chuckle at that. "Don't worry, Greagoir. I'm sure we'll be at each other's throats again in no time. For instance, were you aware that Angélique was an indispensible part of clearing the Tower and saving us? I think that more than makes up for any part she might have had in that unfortunate incident of two months ago."

Greagoir pursed his lips and eyed Angélique carefully. "It hardly surprises me that you feel that way. We can discuss that later, however. Are you absolutely sure that these mages you've brought back with you are uncompromised?"

"Yes," Irving said firmly. "They are. We've lost many, I'll admit, but these have managed to withstand the torture of the past few days."

"How can you be so sure?" Cullen challenged. "You couldn't tell about Uldred and the others."

"That was a miscalculation on my part, I will admit," Irving conceded. "But the situation would have been able to have been resolved far sooner and with far less difficulty had Uldred not become an abomination."

"How do we know that you're not an abomination?" Cullen demanded. "And that everyone else up there with you isn't an abomination? Uldred certainly looked human when he was torturing me and I've seen enough Harrowings to know that it's not always obvious at first."

"Uldred did appear much as he always did until he was attacked by the Grey Wardens," Irving allowed. "But the mages he tortured into turning did not! If we had been forced to allow ourselves to accept a demon into our souls then I assure you that you would hardly be able to miss it."

"Well of course you'd say that if you were an abomination or a blood mage and didn't want us to know," Cullen sneered.

"That's quite enough, Cullen," Greagoir said sternly. "You will remember that it is I and not you who is the knight-commander here. I am willing to accept Irving's word unless one of our two Grey Wardens tells me otherwise."
Cullen looked stricken but respected Greagoir's authority enough to stay silent as instructed.

"We were unfortunate enough to witness Uldred and some of his abominations turning another mage into one of them," Alistair quickly spoke up, probably fearing that Aunn would Irving's story so they'd get the Templars to fight on their side. Of course, it wasn't like him speaking up first would stop her if that was her plan but she'd been quite thoroughly convinced that the mages would be more useful in the coming struggle. "Irving is right: the abominations were quite clearly demons and Irving defied Uldred in front of us and asked us to kill him – to kill Uldred, that is – and Uldred didn't seem pleased about that."

"I agree with Alistair," Aunn confirmed. "The Circle appears to be cleansed of blood magic." She could say that it was cleansed of blood magic but that would be blatantly untrue considering Moira was claiming innocence.

"Then that's settled," Greagoir said with an air of finality. "Now all that's left is rebuilding the Tower. I know that I promised that if you aided us then we would aid you but since the Circle is not to be annulled after all then there is simply no way we can leave our posts to do so. Irving is, of course, free to give you whatever assistance he sees fit." With that, he turned and walked away from them to begin giving orders to his men.

"Irving," Wynne spoke up. "I would like to have leave to join Aunn and Alistair on their travels. From what I understand, they still have two more treaties to call upon and if those places are even half as…exciting as the Tower was then they will need all the help they can get."

"The Circle needs you, Wynne," Irving tried to appeal to her sense of duty.

No such luck, though. "I know but the Grey Wardens need me more. Many mages survived here but there are only two Grey Wardens and they are very brave and good people without many allies. And if the darkspawn kill us all then it won't matter whether I stayed or went," Wynne reasoned.

Irving gave a small smile. "Very well. The Circle could really use your help but I suppose you never were one to sit by when something exciting was going on."

Aunn stiffened slightly as she heard her father's words come out of the First Enchanter's mouth. He had always said that about her, most recently when she had won two Provings in the same day before everything had fallen apart. That was one of the last conversations they'd ever had and it was hard to remember how easy things had been back then.

She forced herself to pay attention as Angélique and Caunira wished them good luck on their journey and promised to join their army when the time came to face down the Archdemon. As they turned to go, Aunn hoped that dealing with the Dalish would be easier than this because Ancestors knew that Orzammar wouldn't be.



"I'm really glad that we were able to help those poor mages," Leliana was saying on the long walk to Denerim. "Without us, it would have ended in a tragedy, I just know it. This is why the Grey Wardens are so important, you know. Not only are you going to stop the Blight but everywhere you're going will be better for you having been there."

"I'm glad you think so, Leliana," Aunn said, wishing she would go bother Alistair instead. He had a far more idealistic view of the Wardens than she did and would probably love to hear it. Unfortunately, Wynne was already busy grilling him on the circumstances of his joining the Grey Warden and telling him all about griffons for Leliana to get a chance to annoy him. They were still mostly heading to Denerim because Aunn wanted to have another chance to look for Gorim but they had other compelling reasons as well now and they would benefit from Sten's new drake-scale armor and whatever information could be gleaned from the Denerim citizenry. Perhaps if Gorim had been in Denerim long enough he could even assist them in that matter.

"I think that's why I had that vision," Leliana continued blithely.

Trian began growling suddenly. Trian wasn't one to do so unnecessarily and so Aunn was immediately on alert, which was a good thing as arrows suddenly began raining from the sky. Immediately, the group was on high alert and attempted to evade or block the arrows – depending, of course, on whether they happened to have a shield – as they ran into the nearby forest that the attack had emanated from. There were about a dozen mercenaries compared to the seven of them so, naturally, it wasn't a difficult nor a long fight.

"Ugh…" groaned one of the mercenaries. Aunn judged from then nicer clothes he wore than the others that this man was in charge. Why did the men who called for their subordinates to attack them keep outliving them? It really made very little sense. Ah, well. That could be corrected easily enough. She raised her sword.

"Stop!" Leliana cried out. "Don't kill him!"

"Look, Leliana, I get that you're trying to be a good little Chantry whatever but this man tried to kill us. That man in Lothering where we first met also tried to kill us. We cannot simply go around sparing everyone who attacks us, especially not those that order the attack," Aunn said, trying not to sound as frustrated as she was.

"I know that!" Leliana insisted although Aunn honestly had her doubts. "It's just…I know this man!"

"I, too, have known plenty of people that wanted to kill me and, in some cases, actually tried," Aunn said flatly. "Why should that mean that this man lives?"

"Because this man in Marjolaine's," Leliana revealed. "And I never thought I'd see him again after I left Orlais. Tell me, why did she send you here?"

"I don't know," the man claimed. "We were just supposed to attack you."

"If you don't know anything then you're useless to me," Leliana told him but though her words were cold her tone did not change in the slightest. She stepped forward.

"W-wait!" the man protested. "I might know something. There was an address she gave me that I'm supposed to meet her at. I don't know if she'll be there personally or not but even if she isn't then there will probably be someone there that does know how to find her." He quickly rattled off the location of a building that for all they knew could contain a trap or was simply a dead end.

"You have two minutes to leave my sight," Leliana said bluntly.

The man, injured though he might have been, scrambled to his feet. "Of course! Thank you." He quickly hobbled off deeper into the forest.

"So…" Alistair said finally. "Do you want to explain that, Leliana?"

"Not really, no," Leliana told them.

"What a surprise," Morrigan drawled. "The nice innocent Chantry girl is keeping secrets."

"I'm sure she has her reasons," Wynne defended. "And she only said that she didn't want to discuss what happened, not that she wouldn't."

"That is true," Aunn agreed. "Well, Leliana? And I do hope you realize that we're not going anywhere some strange man who wants us dead told us to unless we have a clear idea why."

Leliana looked hesitant. "You're right, I suppose. It would not be fair to ask that of you. In Orlais I was a bard although I swear to you all that I have left that life behind me and have spent the last two years trying to move past that in the Chantry."

Wynne didn't get it. "You're trying to escape your terrible past as a minstrel?"

Leliana blinked. "No, a bard. In Ferelden the two terms seem to be interchangeable but not so in Orlais. Bards are basically minstrels who deal in spying and intrigue. My mentor was a woman by the name of Marjolaine. One day, I realized that some of the things Marjolaine was involved in were outright treason. I thought that there must have been a mistake, you see, for Marjolaine and I were very close and I simply could not believe that of her. I confronted her about it and she assured me that it was all just a terrible misunderstanding and that she would take care of it."

Morrigan snorted. "And you believed her? How naïve." Aunn knew better than to say anything but privately she rather agreed. 'A terrible misunderstanding'? How did one mistake treason and a misunderstanding? Then again, if Leliana wanted to believe Marjolaine maybe that explained why she allowed herself to believe that. Ancestors knew there were things in her life that she chose to believe even if she knew they weren't true. Still, confronting her about it seemed like a very bad move if she weren't going to take it any further. Once Marjolaine knew that Leliana knew then she was a loose end and in Aunn's experience loose ends weren't just expendable, they were almost guaranteed to end up dead somewhere.

"There are few crimes greater than such a betrayal," Sten said shortly.

"I believed her," Leliana confirmed, closing her eyes. "Why wouldn't I? She was everything to me and I trusted her. And…she betrayed me. It became clear that she was knowingly involved in treason when the guards came to take me away. She had told them that I was the traitor, you see, and they believed her. She always was so much better at the game then I was. I just didn't realize that I…" she trailed off, sounding lost. "I didn't realize that I was a part of the game, as well."

Aunn didn't want to but she could feel herself begin to sympathize with the Orlesian girl. How could she not draw the parallels between what had happened to Leliana and her own story? She'd been betrayed, too, by someone who had been close to her but that she hadn't exactly trusted. And thank the ancestors for that or else she would have felt even worse about the whole thing because then she'd need to berate herself for her stupid as well. And as it turned out, Bhelen was very, very good at the game of Orzammar politics. Not, of course, that she would ever tell him that. Chances are that he had realized that long before the day he'd proven it and how could she broach the subject without having to deal with entirely unwanted smugness? Best to just avoid it altogether. Best to just avoid him altogether if it at all possible, which she wasn't sure it was.

"They took me, tortured me…they wanted answers, you see, and I had none to give them. There are abuses of power in this country, I know, but at least it is not sanctioned by your ruler," Leliana told them. "Eventually, they might have granted me death. I did not wait that long. Using the skills Marjolaine herself had taught me, I managed to escape and I came here to the land of my birth. I didn't look back and I haven't even see Marjolaine since the day I was arrested. I have no idea what she could possibly want."

"I do," Aunn spoke up. "If she's only attacking you now that you've left the Chantry and she was able to find you so easily then that means she was watching you and waiting for you to move on."

"Why would she be watching me?" Leliana wondered aloud. "It's been two years. Like you said, I've moved on."

"You are a threat to her," Aunn explained. "A loose end. If what Marjolaine was doing was enough to get you tortured then imagine what the information could do to her. You may not have any proof but one of her enemies could benefit greatly from that information. I'm not sure why she didn't try to have you killed while you were in the Chantry but maybe she thought you could do no damage there. Now that you've left, however…and we are heading to Denerim. Surely you can see why she'd be paranoid?"

Leliana just looked at her incredulously. "My life does not revolve around Marjolaine. Not anymore. I've made my peace with what happened as best that I could and just wish to pretend that it never happened."

"I believe you," Aunn told her. "But does she? You've probably changed a great deal in these past two years but she hasn't been there to see that and may only have gotten reports on your activities. If what she knows of you is that you're a bard – and more specifically one trained by her – then she may be operating under the assumption that you would act as she would in your place. Now tell me: if it had been you that betrayed she would you really put it past her to try and lull you into a false sense of security by staying in a backwater Chantry for two years before making her move?"

Leliana was silent for a moment as she thought it over. "No," she said. "It wouldn't. But I'm not like that!"

"You can tell her that when we see her," Aunn told her. "Although I doubt she'll be willing to believe you."



Denerim was just as big as Aunn remembered and she found herself extremely grateful that she had been to the city before. Morrigan had barely been to Lothering, this was Leliana's first time out of Lothering since she'd arrived, Sten had not passed through the city during his short stay in this country, Wynne had rarely ever come by and never unaccompanied by a Templar, and while Alistair might have actually had a good grasp of the city he was her makeshift second so she couldn't very well follow him around. Trian, naturally, could have had the city memorized and still not be qualified to lead them do to his lack of effective communication. For all she knew he could decide to lead them off to lunch instead of what they were actually looking for.

It only took her a minute to remember the location of the armor shop and so that was the first place they went. Chances were it might take awhile to get measurements and whatnot and so it was best to get that out of the way first thing and let anyone who wasn't occupied go handle their business while Wade worked with the scales.

"Hello and welcome to Wade's Emporium," Herron greeted them with a smile. "You're in luck! Wade is actually willing to work today. Would you like to place an order or look at what we already have available?"

"Both," Aunn said. "Alistair and Leliana could use some better armor and we'd like to get something for Sten, too." For that matter, Wynne and – especially – Morrigan could use some armor as well but they had both flat-out refused. Morrigan apparently enjoyed going around half-naked and Wynne didn't feel it was proper for mages to wear armor for some reason. Oh well. They usually weren't close enough to their enemies to be stabbed anyway so it probably didn't matter.

Herron started pulling out pieces of armor. "We have plenty of human armor but I do not believe we have anything for qunari available at the moment. I take it that's the custom order?"

Wade poked his head out of the next room at the words 'custom order' to complain. "Not more of the same old dull craftsmanship! An artist should not have to put up with these horrid conditions, Herron! I…wait." He stopped as he peered closer at Aunn. "I recognize you! You're the one who came in with Duncan the last time you were here. I don't suppose you have any drake scales, heartwood, golem shells, or dragon bones?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Wade," Herron laughed. "Why would these people have any of that?"

"Actually, we found quite a bit of scales on that drake we killed at the Circle Tower," Alistair piped up, looking away from his perusal of the available armor. "And we were hoping that's what you could make Sten's armor out of."

Herron froze before turning slowly and fixing him with a withering glare. "I hate you so much right now."

Alistair looked taken aback and quickly glanced back down at the armor he was supposed to be selecting.

"You do?" Wade looked like he'd just been told that the King himself wanted one of his pieces. "Let me see, let me see!"

Trian dragged Leliana's pack over to Wade.

"Good boy," Wade said, absently patting Trian on the head before picking up the bag and peering inside. "Oh…but these are some fine quality scales! And so many of them! You say you would like a suit of armor for your qunari friend? I can do that. In fact, I could probably make two."

"They really only need the one!" Herron cried, sounding almost desperate.

"I will need to take your measurements, of course," Wade continued, blatantly ignoring his beleaguered assistant. Sten quietly followed Wade into the back room to take his measurements.

Aunn waited a few minutes until Leliana had found her new armor before announcing, "Okay, Leliana and I are going to go look up this address. Does anybody want to come with us?"

"I'll pass," Morrigan said immediately.

Trian didn't even bother to answer but instead trotted over to her, indicating that he was going to be coming along.

"I'll go," Alistair volunteered. "I'm familiar with that area of town."

"I would come," Wynne told her apologetically. "But I don't quite trust our Orlesian friend to be alone with this poor man."

"Well that settles it then," Aunn said as Morrigan and Wynne began bickering. "Let's go."



True to his word, Alistair quickly located the home that may or may not contain the biggest ghost in Leliana's past. They stood outside of it for a moment, waiting for the ex-bard to give the signal to go in.

"You know, I had actually thought I would get to know you well enough to disclose my past without having my hand be forced," Leliana remarked idly.

"Well there's no reason for Marjolaine to hold off sending people after you until we were aware of you pasta as a bard," Alistair pointed out.

"True," Leliana agreed before lapsing into silence once more. Finally, she took a deep breath and opened the door.

A woman with long dark hair worn down and pin-straight was seated at a table when they entered. Her eyes widened a little upon seeing them and she quickly stood, revealing an ugly pink outfit. Aunn had seen similar Surfacer silks before and honestly didn't see the appeal. Even if it hadn't been unsightly it still would be no help during their probable fight. There were guards standing about but they didn't move to attack so they were not relevant until the violence started.

"Ah, Leliana!" the woman greeted, her accent think and grating. If Aunn had thought that Leliana's was annoying then it was understandable how this woman's made her want to stab something. "How nice of you to join me. Would you like some tea?"

"Spare me the pleasantries, Marjolaine," Leliana told her, sounding unimpressed. "You sent your men to kill me and I want answers."

"Answers?" Marjolaine laughed lightly. "To what question? Why I sent those men after you? They weren't to kill you, my dear sweet Leliana. I just needed to see you and I knew that if I sent them then they would fail and you would come here. Why else do you think their captain knew my real location?"

"So you tried to assassinate her in order to enable a reunion," Alistair said disbelievingly. "You know, you could have tried other methods. Like sending a letter! Who doesn't like letters? And if that didn't work then you could fall back on the whole trying to kill her to get her attention thing."

"I could have," Marjolaine agreed. "But I didn't."

"Why have you done this, Marjolaine?" Leliana demanded. "What could you possibly have to say after all this time? I don't expect an apology from you and honestly that's all I'm interested in hearing from you."

"An apology," Marjolaine scoffed. "For what? You know too much, my precious Leliana, and you'd have acted against me in a heartbeat if I hadn't done it first."

"Not everyone is you, Marjolaine," Leliana disagreed. "And I know that I'm certainly not."

"Oh, but you are, my little Leliana. I trained you. I watched you for years. We are exactly alike although I can understand that in your anger you do not wish to admit it," Marjolaine said patronizingly. "You know my secrets. I can't ever let you go. You're simply too dangerous. We are the same, you and I, and just because I won that doesn't mean you can take the moral high ground here."

"I…" Leliana said, looking torn. "I want you out of my life."

And so the parallels continued. Honestly, if Aunn ever sat down and had an honest conversation with her little brother – and wasn't that a novel concept – then she imagined it would go very much like this. Knowing Leliana, the ex-bard was about two seconds away from deciding to spare the woman who had just professed to not ever be willing to stop stalking her out of some misguided attempt to prove that they weren't the same after all. She wondered if Marjolaine knew that and was counting on it or if she didn't think Leliana would even bother taking her denials that far. One could argue that this was Leliana's business and not hers but the last thing she really needed was to having annoying Orlesian women sending assassins after them while they were already technically outlaws and even if Marjolaine laid low for awhile it was definitely better for Leliana in the long run if this chapter of her past were closed. Just like Leliana was a loose end for Marjolaine, Marjolaine was now a loose end for Leliana.

"That's just not going to happen," Marjolaine said flatly.

"You know she'll never stop hunting you," Aunn told her quietly. If Marjolaine wasn't even going to bother denying it then she certainly couldn't be allowed to live.

"You're right," Leliana agreed, not sounding at all pleased. "I am sorry that it's come to this, Marjolaine, but you leave me no choice."

"You really think you can beat me, little Leliana?" Marjolaine asked mockingly. "I created you and now I will destroy you!"

The guards leapt into action then. There were only two of them but two mages came into view then which made it four against five and for the first time in awhile they were actually outnumbered. Leliana went straight for Marjolaine and ran after one of the mages so Aunn decided to go after the other mage and leave the guards for Trian to deal with.
Once the mage saw that she was heading for him, he quickly started casting spells at her. Most of them either missed or were absorbed by her armor but one of them made her feel a little dizzy and made it difficult for her to aim properly. Still, her job was simply to hit the mage with a sword until he died so if she kept swinging it then chances were good that she'd manage it sooner or later. The mage kept continuing to cast spells at her but, of course, they weren't very effective. Sometimes – well, all times, really – she loved being a dwarf.

Just as Aunn had managed to start aiming properly again, Marjolaine let out a choked cry and her opponent glanced over. Aunn took this opportunity to quickly behead him before looking over herself to see what was going on. Leliana was kneeling over the fallen Marjolaine and pulling a dagger out of the woman's chest.

"Maker forgive you," she said softly. "And may I one day be able to do the same."

Aunn and Alistair exchanged a quick look and silently agreed to give the poor girl a minute so they went into the other rooms to see what they could salvage. Some of it looked rather valuable and there was a very nice longbow that Leliana could probably use. It was certainly better than the one they'd picked up for her in Lothering.

When the pair made their way back to Leliana, they found her standing near the door with her back to the body of her old mentor. "I'm ready to go," she told them in a small voice. "And I would appreciate it if you didn't mention this to the others. At some point I may want to talk about it with one of you but right now…now I just want to be able to think it over on my own."

"Of course, Leliana," Alistair said immediately. "And for what it's worth…I'm sorry."

"Me too," Leliana said, still looking downcast.

"We found a bow you might like," Aunn said in an effort to change the subject. She held it out. "Here."

Leliana took the bow, her eyes widening in surprise. "This is…this is Marjolaine's Recurve. This was her best bow, the one she always used…I suppose she wasn't expecting me right then or she would have had it out."

"Would you like it?" Aunn pressed. "Or would that bring up too many bad memories?"

"No, it's fine," Leliana assured her. "In fact, I think I'd like something like this to remind me. Thank you."

They headed outside again and Alistair suggested taking a longer route back to Wade's so as to give Leliana more time to compose themselves. They four walked along silently for a few minutes before Aunn heard it.

"Dwarven crafts! Fine dwarven crafts! Direct from Orzammar! You won't find better."

The words were strange but the voice was familiar. She would know him anywhere. Her eyes darted around wildly looking for the source. There. She could see him from here. He was on the other side of the street they were walking down but she could see him.

"Stay here, okay?" she told Leliana and Alistair vaguely. "I've just seen the friend I was telling you about and reunions are best when smaller."

Trian took it upon himself to ignore her and follow her over to where he had not yet seen her but Alistair and Leliana at least were doing as she asked.

How long had it been? Three months now. Maybe a little longer. Gorim.

She could tell the moment he saw her as he stopped in the middle of his sales pitch and stared straight at her as if she were a ghost.

"My lady? My Lady Aeducan? Is-is that really you?"

She couldn't help but smile a bit at his clear incredulousness. "I told you that I'd find you here so that we could see that
we both survived, if nothing else. What now?"

Modifié par Sarah1281, 08 juillet 2010 - 12:46 .

[Sarah1281]

Chapter Eleven: Expecting It Doesn't Make It Easier

Gorim simply continued to stare at her. Under normal circumstances she probably would have complained but this was Gorim and it had been months since she'd last seen him. He looked much as he always had although it seemed…wrong to see him in the bright Surface clothes he now wore instead of the armor she had usually seen him in. Then again, what use would a merchant have for armor aside from selling it? It was a little strange to see him for the first time in the sunlight but at least he was here.

Finally, he seemed to snap out of it. "I knew you were still alive," he breathed, though the incredulousness and outright awe in his tone led Aunn to believe that he had merely hoped it. It wasn't surprising, she supposed, given that no one ever made it out of the Deep Roads once they'd been exiled there. Well, thinking on it that might not be true but if they had escaped to the Surface like she had then it wasn't like anyone in Orzammar would have heard about it just like Orzammar never would have heard of her continued existence if it hadn't been for that sodding treaty and Alistair's… Alistair-ness that prevented him from just handling it by himself.

"I never stopped believing it," he said again, a little more conviction in his voice. He never wanted to stop believing, maybe, but as much as she might want to believe that, say, she could clear up her legal status while she was back in Orzammar that didn't mean that she really did. People like her and Gorim were tragically too practical for desperate hope to be of much comfort.

"I was in Denerim a few weeks ago but I didn't see you," Aunn told him. She would never admit it but she had actually been a little worried that after enough time had passed and Gorim had had time to experience the realities of his exile that he would resent her for her part in it and it was good to see that he did not appear to. She knew, rationally, that that was highly unlikely but that hadn't done much to ease her concerns. "Although I don't believe I passed through this part of town so I'm not sure if you were there at the time or not."

"Probably not," Gorim replied. "The date of my actual exile kept getting pushed back and I could not for the life of me understand why. It couldn't have been your brother's doing as he seemed to take it as a personal insult whenever he saw me. Finally, King Endrin called for me."

Aunn started. "You…saw my father?" That was unexpected. If he hadn't even bothered to show up before he let Bhelen and his Assembly puppets kill her – she may not have actually died but the odds of her survival had been so low that that was essentially what he had sanctioned with his silence – then why would he feel the need to meet with her second? Former second.

"I did," Gorim confirmed with a nod, looking a little uncomfortable and no wonder: he had likely picked up on her…displeasure with her father the last time they had spoken. "The day before I finally left, he sent for me. It was the first time I had seen him since the day Trian died. I almost didn't go but he was still my King and I suppose part of me was hoping that he would have answers."

"And did he?" Aunn asked carefully, knowing that she wasn't fooling him in the slightest but refusing to admit how much this was getting to her nonetheless. It was alright, though: Gorim had long-since come to understand her stubborn and occasionally inconvenient pride.

Gorim considered the question. "Perhaps, but not for me," he said finally. "You must understand, my lady, that exiling you wasn't easy on him."

Aunn pursed her lips. "It wasn't easy for me either and since there was never any question of him ceasing to exist and outright dying then forgive me if I'm not really interested in hearing about his hardships."

"I figured that might be the case," Gorim admitted. "But Aunn…you need to hear this. You know you do."

It was the use of her first name that got to her, much like he'd intended. She wondered vaguely if the paucity of times he had used her name, even when they were alone, was partly so it would still have that affect on her. Was he right? She had asked after her father while she was sitting in that prison cell back in Orzammar even though he was honestly the last person she'd wanted to hear about after the way he'd so coldly left her to her fate. To her death. Just because it hadn't happened that way didn't mean that the intention wasn't still there. Still…she had to admit that she probably would have driven herself half-mad wondering if she hadn't.

"Alright," she acquiesced quietly. "Tell me."

"He looked bad," Gorim told her, not caring to question her sudden interest. "We all knew that he had been getting old and that he might not have much time left but a mere three weeks after you had been banished he looked as if he had lived three lifetimes. It was as if he were long dead and rotten and now merely an empty husk collapsing in on itself. He could not even rise from his bed and the room stank of decay."

"I see," Aunn said hollowly. How exactly was she supposed to respond to that? To feel about it, even? Yes, it was hardly a secret that her father was old and aging more every day. That didn't necessarily have to mean that he was going to die shortly – Harrowmont himself was sixty compared to her father's fifty and was in excellent shape – but it did make it a strong possibility. That was one of the reasons she believed things had deteriorated so thoroughly between her and Trian (well, that and Bhelen's intervention) and why her little brother had felt the need to put his plan into practice when he was still seen as barely more than a child.

"It was difficult to see him like that," Gorim continued, sounding pained. He had always been fond of her father and no amount of failing to save them would just make that go away so completely. It was difficult for her to hear this so she couldn't even begin to imagine how he had actually managed to watch it. "Until that moment, I had hated him for believing Bhelen, for exiling you but if you had seen him…if you had heard his voice…" he trailed off, looking distant.

"What did he say?" Aunn prompted, needing to get this part of the conversation over with so she'd still have the strength to address the next part which she had a horrible feeling wouldn't cheer her up any.

"He barely spoke at all. He said 'Find my daughter. No other deserves this.' He gave me the Shield of Aeducan and a letter. I haven't read it, of course, but I've carried them with me ever since and I hope you'll find what you're looking for in it," Gorim said hesitantly. He turned around and walked to the back of his stand.

Aunn's eyes narrowed as she took in the slight limp he walked with. He was injured? Was that why he was a merchant now? Was it serious? Was it permanent? Those questions would have to wait, however, as allowing herself to stray from the matter at hand would inevitably tempt her not to return. Gorim walked back to her and proffered the shield and note, which she reluctantly accepted. "Damn him."

"My lady?" Gorim inquired cautiously.

"He knew I wouldn't be able to turn this down. The Shield of Aeducan! After everything…even if I wanted nothing more to do with him, with House Aeducan, with Orzammar itself he knew I could not refuse this," Aunn said angrily.

"The Paragon Aeducan was always a hero of yours," Gorim reminded her. "And this is the only proof of your heritage you have. He wasn't trying to manipulate you."

"Maybe, maybe not," Aunn shrugged, her eyes burning. "But is it really any better that he's so good at it he can do so without even trying? It really raises a lot of questions if he can. Oh, who am I kidding? It raises a lot of questions regardless."

"Aren't you going to read the letter?" Gorim pressed. "It will probably offer some sort of explanation and maybe even an apology. It's his way of saying goodbye, I suppose, since he never did in person."

"He had two days," Aunn said tightly. "I certainly wasn't going anywhere. It wouldn't have even hurt his precious reputation if he wanted to 'look into the eyes of the woman who murdered my son'."

"You didn't kill Trian," Gorim said firmly.

"I may as well have for all the good that does me," Aunn countered. "And I wish I had. Then I could at least think that I deserved this…" Seeing his pointed look, she sighed. "I'll read it later. I promise. Now was there anything else I needed to know about my father?"

"What King Endrin did was unforgiveable," Gorim began slowly. "But just the same…when I saw his eyes…I pitied him. He was a King and I was being exiled for Bhelen's treachery but I couldn't help but pity the man. If it were possible for a man to die of regret, I think your father did."

Aunn started at that. "Die? It can't be that bad, surely. He was fine a mere three months ago!"

Gorim shrugged. "Guilt and grief will do that to a person. I wouldn't be surprised if he dies within the year and that's not even counting anything Bhelen or his allies might do to try to hurry up his return to the Stone."

Her father was dying. She would probably never see him again. The question was: did she even want to? She honestly had no idea. She couldn't think of anything positive that would come out of that particular reunion but if she didn't she'd always wonder. If she did she may regret it. It could never be a happy reunion anyway no matter what her father's bequeathal might indicate about his own wishes on the subject.

Now was hardly the time to worry about that. She wasn't about to head back to Orzammar anytime soon and she'd leave the possibility of seeing him again up to fate. If he were still alive then she would have to go to him as the treaty compelled only the King to send aid and if he weren't then there was nothing she could about it. This wouldn't hurt nearly as much if he hadn't been one of the only time people she genuinely – foolishly – trusted. He had loved her and she was hardly a threat to his position so what reason did he have to hurt her? How could he believe she'd killed Trian? It was as if he didn't even know her. Yes, under different circumstances she might have but as it was…

"If you don't mind me asking, my lady, how did you manage to escape?" Gorim asked gently, acceding to her unspoken wish to change the subject. "Did you find the Grey Wardens?"

Unbidden, a small smile made its way to her face. "I did," she confirmed proudly. "Duncan and the others agreed to let me join their Order and he even bought me some tolerable armor when we passed through this city."

"The armor you were wearing wasn't good enough?" Gorim asked knowingly.

Aunn coughed. Normally, she'd just go with that but she hated lying to Gorim and it really wasn't as if it even mattered all that much. "The armor I was wearing was non-existent, actually."

Gorim's eyes widened in clear disbelief. "You couldn't find any armor on your way to the Surface?"

"None that was not all bloody and sweat-soaked," Aunn replied, still not quite looking at him.

"My lady, you could have been killed!" Gorim said reprovingly although not he didn't sound particularly surprised.

"Wasn't that why I was down there in the first place?" she asked wryly. "But I didn't and I wasn't."

"I had hoped that you would find the Grey Wardens and become one of them," Gorim told her. "At least until I heard what happened at Ostagar. I don't know how you managed to survive when all the other Wardens died but I am grateful."

So common sense dictated that when she was sealed down in the Deep Roads that she would die and it also dictated that had she actually managed to survive by finding the Grey Wardens she would have perished with the rest of the Order at Ostagar. Gorim might have wanted to believe that she was alive – and would never have admitted to thinking otherwise for even a moment – but it was doubtful that he actually did. She was getting a very bad feeling about this.

"What about you?" Aunn asked as casually as she could. One simply couldn't demand these sorts of answers no matter how desperate they might be for them. Well, maybe other people could but not her. "How did you end up here?"

"On my way here I was ambushed by a large group of bandits," Gorim informed her, looking a little sheepish. "I didn't have much of value on me but they wanted the shield. I knew just how irreplaceable that was and I managed to keep it from them but in the scuffle I was pretty heavily wounded. My leg healed crooked and I will never fight again."

Aunn's eyes widened in horror. She had suspected an injury but still…never fighting again? She couldn't even imagine. If she could never fight again she'd probably go out and get into a fight anyway so she could at least have a warrior's death. And giving up fighting for the tedium of a merchant's life? She'd sooner bite through her own tongue then tell the man before her that, though, especially when he was injured trying to protect her family heirloom. And not just trying, for that matter, but succeeding.

"If I couldn't fight and knew nothing about the Surface then I couldn't make use of any of the skills I had learned in Orzammar," Gorim continued. "And it would take me years to learn how to become a competent smith and that wouldn't help me survive until then. That was when I met Belgret."

"Who is Belgret?" Aunn asked, an icy terror washing over her. This was really it, wasn't it? A part of her wanted to delay the inevitable, to go back to talking about her father, to run away, to do basically anything but hear Gorim's answer to that seemingly innocuous question. Still, she had to remember that running away never helped matters and that the shield at her side proclaimed her an Aeducan and Aeducans didn't run away. His answer would be the same whether she heard it today or a year from or even never. Best to just get it over with then.

"My-my wife," Gorim said awkwardly, confirming his worst fears. "She is a good woman. Her father is the best smith in Denerim and he gave me a job selling the armor and weapons that he crafts. We're expecting our firstborn before the Spring."

No. This was just…no.

She couldn't breathe, not really. She had always known that this was coming, even before they had started anything. No matter what happened between them they could not get married because doing so was guaranteed to be a death sentence for him from her scandalized relatives who would not sit back and watch as a warrior married their Princess. Of course, now she was but an exiled princess and could do as she liked so of course Gorim would no longer be available. That was just life for you.

It was on the tip of her tongue to ask what about their relationship but she bit it down. What was the point? He was married. He was far too honorable of a man to even think of suggesting that she become his mistress – and she wouldn't have been able to love him if he hadn't been – and she would have been insulted and stormed out anyway. Princesses, even the exiled ones, did not agree to be a dirty little secret or even an open one. Gorim was married and so their relationship was over. It was as simple as that although not nearly as easy to accept. She had always known that they would never last – even though on the Surface there should have been nothings stopping them from trying – but she had at least expected a little forewarning before one of them (and probably him because she honestly had never felt the need to get married to someone she wasn't already at least fond of) had gotten married and ruined everything.

She wanted to ask why but she knew the answer to that, too, or at least she hoped she did. Gorim had no more way of surviving up here alone then she had but she at least had quickly found a place with the Grey Wardens. If marrying a 'good' Surface woman was what it took for Gorim to find his own way of making a living then so be it. If he loved this Belgret then Aunn honestly didn't want to hear it. Not yet. It wasn't like she wanted him to be trapped in a loveless marriage or anything and she did want him to be happy but it had only been three months. If this had been for practicality then it was something she could understand, something she could handle. If it wasn't…well if it wasn't then she was as easily replaceable to Gorim as she was to everyone else in her life and that was a prospect she wasn't quite willing to face.

And of course there would be a child involved. This Belgret likely had none of the hang-ups about children that she did and was eager to become a mother and start a family. She'd given him a son and wouldn't even resent the pregnancy ruining her life. Then again, as the daughter of a smith and the wife of a merchant she probably wasn't a fighter and wouldn't see it as ruining her life. Did she love him? She hoped paradoxically that the woman both did and that she didn't and that wasn't even remotely nice of her, now was it? She could be ruthless enough to get rid of an unwanted complication if she had to but a child? She did have her limits.

"My lady?" Gorim asked, looking concerned and anxious as the minutes passed with no response from her.

"This is…a lot to take it," Aunn said finally. She could see that he was hoping for a more positive reaction from her, about his impending fatherhood if nothing else, but she just couldn't find it in herself to provide one. As it happened, it was taking everything she had to keep herself from reacting to this news. One thing was clear, however, and that was that she had to get out of here. "With my father and your injury…I'll be travelling quite a bit for the foreseeable future but I am going to need to be back in Denerim in a few weeks and we can talk more then." She glanced over to Trian, who had taken to growling at Gorim the minute he said the word 'wife'. Perhaps he really was intelligent, after all. "Trian, go bring Alistair over here, okay?"

"You named the dog Trian?" Gorim asked, blinking in surprise.

"Why not? Alistair asked shortly. "I've heard it's considered a sign of respect to name an animal after someone."

"I think we both know that that's not how Trian would take it if he were here to see it," Gorim replied.

"If Trian were still among the living then we wouldn't even be here, now would we?" Aunn pointed out, willing Alistair to hurry up.

They stood in silence for a few moments before Aunn heard Alistair's voice behind her. "Is everything alright, Aunn? Trian seemed quite insistent that I come over here even though I know you told me to stay back…"

Gorim glanced over at the new arrival and then did a double take. "You look just like…" he shook his head and trailed off. "Never mind."

"Her brother?"Alistair supplied.

"Yes, actually," Gorim confirmed, looking surprised. "But how would you know that? Have you ever met him?"

"Not yet," Alistair replied. "But Aunn has mentioned it a few times. It was practically the first thing she said to me…"

"I need to go check out something over that way, alright?" Aunn asked rhetorically. "You can stay here and ask Gorim about the rumors and I'll meet you back at Wade's."

She didn't bother waiting for an answer before taking off as fast as her pride would allow her to go. She had no illusions that Gorim didn't know what she was doing but that really wasn't important right then. What was important was escaping that situation before he managed to convince her that no good would come of running from the truth and she really doubted she could handle it at this point. She had no idea where she was supposed to be going but she didn't want anyone to see her just loitering about when she was supposed to have other things to do – even though that was a ridiculously transparent excuse – and so she just picked a random house on the left once she'd been walking for a few minutes and went inside.

A dark haired human, pale and nervous, greeted her. "What are you doing here? Are you looking for Brother Genitivi?"

Aunn perked up at that. "Brother Genitivi lives here? I haven't seen him since the last time he passed through Orzammar and that a couple of years ago. Is he home?"

The man shook his head. "I…I don't know where he is. It's all too dreadful!"

Normally, Aunn would take that as her cue to leave as this man had no idea who she was, she had no witnesses to take offense to that course of action, and Brother Genitivi's fate really wasn't her problem. Right now, however, she was looking for a distraction and it looked like she'd found one. "What happened? And who are you?"

"Ah, of course. Where are my manners?" the man asked rhetorically, his cheeks reddening in embarrassment. "My name is Weylon and I am Brother Genitivi's assistant. I was helping him with his research into the Urn of Sacred Ashes and then a few weeks ago he simply vanished! I only had a vague idea of where he was going but he claimed that he was on the verge of a breakthrough, that he might be able to locate the Urn itself!"

"What is the Urn of Sacred Ashes?" Aunn inquired.

Weylon stopped and stared at her almost in disbelief. "What-what is the Urn of Sacred Ashes? I thought everybody knew what it was."

That statement annoyed Aunn somewhat. "I'm pretty sure that I've heard of it but I don't know what it is. Except, I guess, an urn filled with ashes that people believe to be sacred."

"They are sacred," Weylon claimed, his eyes shining with conviction. "After the great Andraste herself was burned alive her ashes were gathered up by her most loyal followers and brought to a hidden location. Many believe that the ashes have curative powers."

"Why?" Aunn asked.

"Why what?" Weylon asked, confused. "Why can they cure people? Who knows? The Maker blessed them and that is all we need to know."

Aunn tactfully decided not to mention her belief that the Maker was simply a fairytale that the people of Thedas told themselves to try to explain their existence. Honestly, 'we were bad so the Maker got mad and left but not before turning people into darkspawn'? Why were they trying to lure such a malevolent creature back again? "No, I meant that if the ashes were spirited away and hidden then why do people think that they possess curative powers? Did the followers first spill some and find their ailments healing or something?"

"No, no! Nothing like that! Who could ever be so careless? Although…" he trailed off, looking thoughtful. "I'm not actually sure where that rumor came from. Everyone believes that the ashes were at one time capable of healing but many doubt that they still exist. Brother Genitivi hoped to actually be able to locate the Urn but now I fear that something dreadful has happened to him!"

"What do you fear has happened to him?" Aunn asked obligingly. Seriously, could he cut the dramatics already? It was beginning to get on her nerves.

"I…I shouldn't say," Weylon hesitated. "I mean, all those knights from Redcliffe went to look for him as well but I haven't heard anything from them or Brother Genitivi. I fear the worst."

"Where are you sending these people?" Aunn demanded.

"But…fine," Weylon concedes, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "If you absolutely must know…he told me he was heading out towards Lake Calenhad. You might want to check there and see if you can find any trace of him."

Aunn raised an eyebrow. "Lake Calenhad, did you say? That's strange. I was just out there recently and I didn't see any sign of him."

"You didn't?" Weylon asked nervously. "How...how very peculiar. Then again, it has been a few weeks since he left so it makes sense that he wouldn't be there anymore. Not to mention that since I haven't heard from him there is every chance that something horrible has befallen him. It really is best that you don't go check it out. It is becoming more and more clear to me that some things we just aren't meant to discover and that the Urn of Sacred Ashes are one of them."

"Why would he go to Lake Calenhad?" Aunn wondered. "There isn't much there besides the Circle Tower and he wasn't there when I passed through and if he needed to talk to the mages or Templars there then he would have had to wait due to their…slight problem."

"I don't know why he was there," Weylon insisted. "All his research revealed was that he was heading to Lake Calenhad."

Aunn narrowed her eyes. "His research revealed that information to you? Didn't you just say that he told you?"

"Well, yes, he did," Weylon quickly backpedaled. "But then I looked through his research and it just confirmed that he was, indeed, heading there?"

"Oh, so you expected him to lie to you but for him to be so careless as to leave conflicting evidence behind?" Aunn asked skeptically. "That hardly sounds like someone as brilliant as Brother Genitivi would do and why would he lie to his trusted assistant?"

"I-I didn't expect him to lie, I just-" Weylon started to stammer.

"Save it," Aunn cut him off. "You're just embarrassing yourself."

Weylon eyes hardened. "Fine. Have it your way. I gave you a chance to leave and forget about the Ashes and about finding Genitivi but you just wouldn't listen, would you? Now I'm going to have to kill you." He closed his eyes. "Andraste forgive me. I do this in Your-" He cut off suddenly and stared at the sword lodged in his stomach. "Damn you."

"Never take your eye off of your opponent," Aunn lectured, plunging the sword a little deeper into his abdomen before pulling it back out and wiping the blood off of it. "It's an amateur mistake. Don't worry, though. I'm sure it won't happen again."

With that, she promptly walked past the dying Weylon and moved towards the back of the house to see if there was any real information to be found. If not, then she'd be left with two choices: go spring the trap somewhere at Lake Calenhad – that would require finding said trap, of course, but she was sure if she went there and started asking questions about Genitivi then it would find her soon enough – or just forget the whole thing. It wasn't like they needed the Ashes or anything although she would really not have anything befall the scholar.

She slowly opened the door, making sure to keep her eyes peeled for traps or hidden opponents. Satisfied that there were none, she stepped into the room and looked around. There was a decomposing corpse in the corner by the wardrobe. For a moment, she feared it was Genitivi himself but a closer examination revealed a much younger man. This was probably the real Weylon then, for of course there must be a real Weylon or else the imposter would have impersonated whoever this man had been instead. There was also a trunk in the room which, though locked, was soon opened revealing a bit of money, a journal by Genitivi which hopefully contained some clue as to his actual whereabouts, and a small trinket that reminded Aunn of the Chantry for some reason and that Leliana would probably like.

Carefully avoiding the way she had come for fear of being forced to continue the conversation she had only just managed to flee, Aunn headed back to Wade's shop.

Alistair and Leliana were already back and Alistair was trying to pretend that the way Herron was glaring at him wasn't making him extremely uncomfortable.

"Oh, you're back," he said, relieved to have something else to focus on. "We were just about to start looking for you."

"I told you that I had something else to do," Aunn replied vaguely. She pulled out the trinket and turned to Leliana. "Here, I got you something. I hope you like it."

Leliana accepted the object curiously and, upon closer inspection, her eyes lit up. "Oh, how dear of you! Thank you."

"You're welcome," Aunn replied easily. "It's really the least I could do for a friend. Alistair, could I speak to you for a moment outside?"

"Of course," Alistair said, moving quickly towards the door. He really didn't respond to staring – particularly angry staring – well now did he? "Are you all right?" he asked the minute the door had shut behind them.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Aunn asked evasively.

"Well you told us that you wanted to be alone for your reunion and then fifteen minutes later you sent Trian to go fetch us," Alistair replied reasonably. "And then you quickly took off. That makes it sound like your reunion didn't go very well."

"It didn't go badly," Aunn claimed. "It's just…" she trailed off as she considered how much she wanted to tell him. Well, no, that wasn't entirely accurate. She didn't want to tell him anything but since he was so curious then she would clearly need to tell him something and the question was how much she was willing to reveal to this strange human man who looked so much like her brother. "Gorim was a friend of mine from Orzammar."

Alistair nodded. "He intimated as much. He also mentioned that he was your second before your exile. I guess that means that I'm his replacement for you, huh?"

"In some ways," Aunn agreed. "In others…well, you're two different people." Not to mention that she wasn't about to start anything with a human or anyone that reminded her so much of Bhelen, in appearance at least. "He told me that my father is ill and that he himself has gotten married."

"Oh," Alistair said, looking concerned. "I'm sorry to hear about your father. Is it serious?"

"I don't know," Aunn answered. "I didn't see him although Gorim did and he certainly seemed to think so."

"I can see why you'd be upset about that but what's wrong with Gorim getting married?" Alistair wondered innocently. "I mean, isn't that a good thing?"

"In a way," Aunn said carefully. "It means that he's adjusting to Surface life, putting down roots but that's kind of the problem. He's settling down and I'm not. It's a little disconcerting but I'll be fine and that wasn't what I wanted to talk about anyway."

"Then what was it?" Alistair asked, looking a bit doubtful but deciding to let it go.

"He gave me a letter from my father," Aunn explained. "I don't want to read it. To be honest, I want to destroy it. Just the same, doing so would ultimately just make me wonder about if forever but I have some…issues with my father at present and so I don't really trust myself not to give in burn it unread."

"That makes sense," Alistair remarked. "You did say something about how he was the one who through you out of Orzammar. Are you asking me to hold onto the letter for you? I promise I won't read it."

"If you wouldn't mind," Aunn said gratefully, taking the letter out of her pack and handing it to him. "And if you could not mention this to the others…"

"Not to worry," Alistair assured her with a smile as he put the letter into his own pack. "As far as I'm concerned, this is officially a Grey Warden secret now and you know how we are about those…"



From what Alistair and Leliana had been able to find out from Gorim, Loghain had indeed put a bounty on the Grey Wardens and declared them to be traitors that left King Cailan to die at Ostagar although many refused to believe such from the mythical order of legend. The guard captains had all seen a picture of her and Alistair – probably from the eyewitness account of that man Leliana had forced her to spare when they had first met in that Lothering tavern – although the common people had no idea who they were.

Loghain had declared himself regent through his daughter, the Queen-Consort (and since she was of age that certainly carried with it some unfortunate implications), and since he had done this without calling a Landsmeet the nobles were up in arms about it. Apparently a Landsmeet was when all the nobles in Ferelden came to Denerim to vote on important issues like succession which made it sort of like the Assembly although given how much spread out the Ferelden nobility was compared to the Orzammar nobility they obvious met far less often. The nobles, unhappy with being told to just accept Loghain's rule and viewing him as a usurper who may have been involved with Cailan's death, had began a civil war that was further distracting everyone from the Blight. Oh joy.

Alistair had not been pleased when they'd managed to piece together where Genitivi was really headed: a small hidden town called Haven. Well, no, actually he was fine with that. He just hadn't been thrilled to hear that that was their next destination.

"Let me get this straight," Alistair said, staring at her as if she'd just suggested putting their extremely important quest on hold to go look for someone she vaguely knew…which actually wasn't a bad way of summing up the situation. "You want us to delay seeking out the second treaty or going to go appeal to Arl Eamon for aid – which we've already put off once for the sake of you finding someone in Loghain's power base of Denerim – in order to go looking for a sacred object for a religion that you don't even believe in?"

"Well if you put it that way it does sound rather silly, doesn't it?" Aunn asked rhetorically.

"I'll confess, I'm rather at a loss for any other way TO put it," Alistair had told her.

"We are looking for Brother Genitivi who has vanished, whose home has been infiltrated by those willing to murder anyone who gets in their way or who asks too many questions, and is likely in a great deal of trouble himself," Aunn helpfully rephrased for him. "How is that not a good cause?"

"I'm not saying it's not for a good cause," Alistair said pointedly. "I just am not really sure we have time for it and it won't benefit us in the slightest."

"Of course it will," Aunn disagreed. "I mean, isn't Arl Eamon ill?"

Alistair looked confused. "So we've been told but what does that have to do with anything?"

"If he's so sick that his wife is sending people out to look for the Urn then I don't he'll be of much use to us. If we find the Urn and take some ashes back to heal him then we'll be guaranteed our aid as not only will he have reasons of his own to help but he'll be in our debt, as well. And who knows what we'd find upon arriving at Redcliffe? We may be sent to track down the Ashes anyway if the Arlessa can't help us so if you think about it, we're just saving time," Aunn had claimed. 

 Alistair hadn't been happy about it but in the end he had relented, mostly because he was still worried about her. Unfortunately, he had also taken to trying to return the favor for when she'd spoken to him about Duncan and comfort her and she was, frankly, not interested. Instead, she had taken to using Morrigan as her Alistair-shield.

"So it occurs to me that I know less about you then I do about Sten and since he barely talks at all that's kind of pathetic," Aunn announced.

"Is there something in particular you would like to know?" Morrigan asked her. "Or would you like me to start listing off random facts about myself?"

"Either would work, really," Aunn replied with a shrug. "But how about you tell me about, I don't know, your mother?"

"Why do you ask me such questions?" Morrigan asked annoyed. "I do not probe you for pointless information, do I?"

Aunn shrugged. "No but you can feel free to." And she would feel free to lie or simply not answer if she felt the need to.

"Oh what luck," Morrigan said dryly. "But how about this? Tell me about your mother and I will tell you about mine."

"Okay," Aunn agreed. That sounded like an innocent enough question. "My mother died ten years ago. She had been ill for a few weeks prior to her death and so naturally we had no idea if she had actually been sick or if she'd been poisoned. She wasn't unpopular but my father was only forty then and there were quite a few noblewomen who tried to attract his attention after my mother's death. They might as well not have bothered, though, as nothing came out of that."

"Did you love her?" Morrigan asked, sounding slightly scornful at the very thought.

"Yes," Aunn answered simply. And why not? Her mother was long dead so that was hardly going to come back and haunt her.

"I suppose we all have our weaknesses," Morrigan said a little icily.

"I never claimed otherwise," Aunn replied. "Although since she's dead I can't imagine it's a very useful weakness for others to exploit."

Morrigan was about to respond when she spotted a blonde-haired human woman dressed in simple peasant's clothing heading towards them, looking desperate.

"Oh, thank the Maker!" the woman sounded relieved if slightly out of breath. "We need help! They attacked the wagon! Please help us! Follow me, I'll take you to them." Without even waiting for an answer, she ran back in the direction she had just come from.

"We have to go help her!" Leliana said immediately.

"It is a waste of time," Sten said curtly.

"If they have been attacked by bandits or darkspawn and we can help then we must do it," Wynne opined.

"Please tell me that we're not going to waste our time on this," Morrigan said irritated.

"I don't sense any darkspawn," Alistair revealed. "That means that it must just be bandits."

"It doesn't really matter if we want to help them or not," Aunn decided. "We're heading in that direction and so chances are we'll run into the bandits as it is and they'll attack us on sight. Unless we want to find a different path to take, which seems like quite a bit of an inconvenience for some bandits that will be easily enough dispatched, then we don't have much of a choice."

Not really bothering to walk any faster despite how serious the situation sounded, they eventually made their way to a clearing where a single elf was standing next to an attacked wagon. The woman was standing next to him and smirked over at them. The elf stepped forward and almost lazily raised his arm. Immediately, heavily armored men began to pour into the clearing from the bushes nearby and from behind the wagon itself.

"I'm guessing that that was a trap then?" Alistair deadpanned.

"That seems like a fair assumption," Aunn agreed before quickly stepping out of the way as a giant log came crashing down on the spot where she had just been standing.

The elf narrowed his eyes and took out his blades as he dropped into a battle-ready stance. "The Grey Wardens die here!"

The woman behind held her hands out to reveal that they were sparkling with magic. So she was a mage then. Well that was fine. Aunn had fully intended to kill her anyway as she had led them into an ambush – not very skillfully as only half of them even cared about the wagon and Aunn wasn't one of them – but now she wouldn't have to deal with her companions protests about killing civilians no matter the part they may have played in trying to kill them.

She wanted to head straight for the mage but four of the bandits were quicker in reaching her and so she had them to contend with, first. Glancing over at her companions she could see that there were five attacking Alistair while everyone else was just dealing with two or three. It seemed that these people, whoever they were, not only knew that they were Grey Wardens but which of them were.

Being surrounded on all sides was probably one of the most inconvenient combat situations she could be in and she cursed herself for allowing it to happen. Unfortunately, there was no way she could simply escape the situation that she could see so she chose one of the men to begin killing and did her best to ignore the blows she couldn't possibly hope to block from the other three.

Her first intended victim looked a little put-out that she had chosen to go after him as that put him in danger of actually dying or at least being injured before his fellow bandits could subdue her but not particularly worried about the outcome of this fight although he probably should have been. One missed swing on his part was all the opportunity she needed before she managed to slice her sword through his armor like butter. She met his shocked gaze as his body shuddered before pulling the sword out and kicking the man back out of her way in one fluid move.

She turned to the next man she was going to kill and was vaguely pleased to see him tense upon having her attention on him. This one made sure to time his swing more carefully than the last one so that she wouldn't be able to take advantage of a mistake so easily but when one of the other men attacking her suddenly quit the fight – most likely due to Morrigan having set him on fire – she took advantage of his momentary distraction to bring her number of opponents down to one.

This final bandit looked grim but determined as he slashed away at her. Aunn had been getting hit quite a bit in this fight and so she was grateful that she had such high-quality – if not quite as high-quality as she would prefer – armor on to lessen the impact of the blows. She was injured now and he was not so he did have that advantage over her but the simple fact of the matter was that she was more skilled than he was and in a one-on-one fight there was simply no way he was going to win, which she proved by quickly gutting him.

Now that her fight was over, Aunn glanced around the clearing to see that there were no more bandits standing. A pity: she had really wanted to kill that mage. Still, as long as she was dead then Aunn supposed that that was enough.

"Do we have any idea why these people attacked us?" Aunn asked. "They weren't simple bandits and not only seemed to know that Alistair and I were Grey Wardens but were targeting us specifically for that."

"The one that was in charge had an Antivan accent," Leliana offered. "This may mean that he was a Crow."

"A what?" Aunn asked uncertainly.

"An Antivan Crow," Leliana explained. "They are a group of extremely prestigious assassins that operate out of Antiva and are rumored to be the real power there."

"Not Loghain is sending professional assassins after us?" Alistair demanded. "I feel that it would be remiss if I didn't let you know that I've just found reason five."

"I hate to bring this up but the man you are speaking of still lives," Morrigan informed them, sounding bored. "Perhaps we will have the answers you seek."

That was a good plan. No matter how skilled this assassin, this possible Crow, was he had still been defeated by them once and now it was seven on one so they could be reasonably sure that he would not be able to escape from them or try again.

She nodded. "Very well. Wake him."

[Sarah1281]

Chapter Twelve: Haven's Underwhelming Hospitality

The assassin awoke slowly. He groaned and forced his eyes open. When he saw the group of seven surrounding him his brow furrowed in confusion before understanding dawned. "So I am a prisoner, then."

"Your grasp on the obvious is remarkable," Sten said.

"For now," Aunn agreed. That had been the first time she had ever used the Shield of Aeducan in battle and she had to say that it felt…right. This was an old object that, while remarkable by the standards of the day, had earned Ivo and that too-talkative scout's skepticism and yet it was as if she could feel the history carried within it. It was as if she was making some history of her own. "Although what will happen after we're done questioning you really depends on how cooperative you are and whether we liked your answers."
"
That's not to say that we want you to lie to us if you don't think that we'll like your answers, though," Alistair quickly added.

"Fair enough," the elf said. "What's your first question?"

"Your name would be a good start," Aunn replied.

"My name is Zevran," Zevran introduced. "That was easy. Are the other questions going to be like that?"

"Probably not but we needed to call you something," Aunn said with a shrug. "Are you an Antivan Crow?"

Zevran looked a little surprised at that. "Oh, so you were able to recognize me? Most impressive. The Crows aren't as well-known outside of Antiva."

"I knew it!" Leliana exclaimed, not at all perturbed to have assassins after her. Then again, as a bard she might as well have been one herself.

"An assassin!" Wynne spat, clearly displeased. "Did Loghain send him?"

"Probably," Alistair responded. "He is evil, you know."

"As it happens I was hired by a man named Howe to assassinate you and your fellow Warden although I was not sent out until Howe had the approval of Loghain," Zevran explained.

"Howe…" Aunn mused. "I've heard that name before."

"I believe the man in that armor shop said that he was the new Arl of Denerim," Morrigan informed her.

"That's right!" Leliana realized. "Your friend told us that Howe took over after the previous Arl died at Ostagar and his only son was killed by an elf a few weeks earlier which led Howe to shut down the Alienage and violently put down the riots."

"I remember hearing something about that," Aunn said slowly. "When Duncan and I were travelling around Ferelden looking for recruits we heard the story. I think her name was…Ahria. Duncan wanted to recruit her but she'd been put to death."

"What possible reason could the Grey Wardens have for being interested in recruiting someone who would do something like that?" Wynne asked, frowning.

"I don't know the details but the man we talked to said that she only did that to rescue herself and some friends of hers who had been kidnapped on her wedding day," Aunn told her.

Wynne blinked. Whatever she had been expecting, that was certainly not it. "Oh."

"We didn't stay long so I wasn't able to tell but…is it just elves that live there?" Aunn asked curiously. "And if so, why?"

"Mostly elves," Alistair confirmed. "No one is forced to live there or anything but the Alienage has the cheapest housing and sometimes it isn't safe for elves to live outside of the Alienage just like it's not safe for humans to go inside or else they might get attacked."

"So, what? Humans hate elves and oppress them?" Aunn asked. That fit in with what she'd seen so far. Still, it made no sense to her. "Why?"

"I…don't know why," Alistair said, sounding a little helpless. "That's just the way it's always been. It was only a few generation ago that the elves even stopped being slaves so I suppose it might have something to do with that."

"The Chantry says that the elves in their homeland of the Dales just sat back and had their army watch as a Blight devoured the neighboring lands," Wynne offered. "I don't know how much of that is true but the Dalish did not help against the Second Blight and shortly after the Blight ended the Dales were sacked."

"And the fact that the Dalish did not follow your Chantry had nothing to do with that, I'm sure," Morrigan scoffed.

"The elves in Orlais are treated much better than this," Leliana announced. "I will admit that I have never been to the Denerim Alienage but in Orlais elven servants are in high demand. They are nimble, dexterous, and many find them pleasing to look at. They often live in the houses of their masters in great wealth and luxury and some of them even have servants of their own."

"But…they're still servants," Aunn pointed out. "Growing up my family had many servants and while it's true that the servants often were clothed better than some of the other lower castes – as a point of pride if nothing else and naturally Aeducan ones were the fanciest – they still had to make a living of doing nothing but the bidding of someone above you. I would never consent to that."

"I suppose it's not a life I would wish, either," Leliana admitted. "But at least it is better than poverty."

"Yes, living a life bound to serve another's will is so much better than lacking material possessions," Morrigan said sarcastically. "Why, they sound adorable, just like little pets."

"No!" Leliana exclaimed, horrified. "That's not what I…it's not like that! And I…" she stopped suddenly as a thought came to her. "It's always interesting to see how your culture is viewed through the eyes of an outsider. Thank you, Morrigan. I will think more on this."

"I…" Morrigan looked completely taken aback by this. "You are welcome," she said slowly as if she suspected some sort of trap.

"The assassin's fate is still undecided," Sten reminded them.

They all looked back at Zevran who was watching them amusedly. "Oh, don't mind me. Continue on explaining about elves to your leader."

"I think I've gathered enough for now," Aunn replied. "So since you failed to kill us what now?"

"Ah, that is an interesting question," Zevran told her, a hint of seriousness creeping into his voice. "The Crows are the best assassins in all of Thedas and the way they've become so is by not accepting failures. Since you and your fellow Warden are still amongst the living then I have failed in my mission and my life is forfeit. Sooner or later someone will come to kill me to make sure that no one gets any bright ideas about escaping and the reputation of the Crows won't be damaged."

"So you're going to try to kill Aunn and I again," Alistair concluded.

"Not as such, no," Zevran disagreed. "You've killed all of my men and defeated me once already so attacking you on my own would be a mistake and finding enough competent people willing to follow me to try and kill not one but two Grey Wardens? You'll probably have ended your Blight or been killed by someone else by the time I managed to get that together."

"So what are you saying?" Aunn inquired. "Do you honestly expect us to just let you go?"

"That would be the height of foolishness, I suspect," Zevran remarked. "And I may very well be quicker than I anticipated with that army. Not to mention that I do not wish to die and you seem like you would be strong enough to make other Crows think twice about coming after me and be able to defend against those that are not deterred."
"So you want to join us," Aunn said. It wasn't a question.

"I do," Zevran confirmed.

"And how do we know that you won't turn on us whenever it's convenient for you?" Alistair demanded.

"You don't," Zevran replied. "But I give you my word as an Antivan that I will not turn on you unless you turn out to be like the Crows and reward failure with death. Still, I would recommend not making betraying you convenient for me."

"Please tell me that your stunning failure to immediately shoot down this idea doesn't mean that you're considering it," Alistair begged.

"An assassin would be useful to have on our side," Leliana mused. "Especially as we tend to kill things a lot."
"But the assassin in question has tried to kill us," Wynne pointed out.

"Making an ally out of a defeated foe is an excellent way to make the most out of your resources," Sten opined.
Aunn considered the matter. On the one hand, she knew next to nothing about this Zevran character – if that was even his real name – and he had just tried to kill them. On the other she didn't know how loyal he was to the Crows but he was almost certainly not loyal to Howe and Loghain. It's not like she hadn't worked with assassins before and having her own personal assassin might prove to be useful. She would need to be on guard, of course, and watch all her food carefully – she had finally begun to prepare her own after Morrigan's grudging lessons – but she had had to do both of those back in Orzammar so it would be just like being home again.

"Alright," Aunn told him. "But I feel that I would be remiss if I didn't warn you that if you try again then all bets are off and we will kill you where you stand."

"That sounds fair," Zevran said, climbing to his feet. "So where are we going, anyway?"



Zevran quickly fit into the group by teasing Alistair with stories of his time in the Crows hitting on Morrigan, Wynne, and Leliana, and questioning Sten on how his people viewed elves. Aunn honestly didn't think Zevran meant anything with his flirtations but it was amusing to see Wynne, in particular, get all riled up. Yes, he definitely added life to the group.

"So this town is called Haven, yes?" Zevran asked as they finally reached the outskirts of the Village. "I must say, it seems to be a rather a misleading name. I certainly don't feel like this is a place of refuge."

"This is a village hidden from the rest of Ferelden," Leliana pointed out. "I'm sure that if you needed to disappear then this is a good place to do so and your enemies will never find you…" She sounded a bit wistful. Perhaps she wanted to talk about what happened with Marjolaine after all? Aunn was fairly certainly that she had said something about seeking either her or Alistair out if she wanted to talk and it wasn't like she didn't have her own issues she was pointedly not thinking about to worry about so she'd let Leliana come to her. Unless, of course, this went on too long and her behavior started to get annoying.

"Why are we here?" Sten spoke up suddenly. "The Archdemon is in the south and we keep heading further and further north. This does not make sense."

"No, it doesn't," Alistair murmured.

Aunn ignored him. "We're going to get to the Archdemon soon enough but Ferelden's army was greatly crippled at Ostagar and so we need to gather new allies."

"Yes," Sten agreed. "The dwarves and the Dalish. They are not here."

"True but we'll get back to that once we've finished up here. It shouldn't take long," Aunn told him.

"Perhaps not," Sten allowed. "But why are we here? There seems to be no point."

"It's like he's saying everything I've been thinking," Alistair continued quietly.

"We're looking for Brother Genitivi," Aunn reminded him.

"Why?" Sten queried.

Because she wasn't really up for dealing with a scavenger hunt for some notoriously hostile elves or to head back home at present and needed something else to do? What were the odds that he would be at all concerned about her personal problems? Aunn felt that the answer was leaning towards 'not high' and she still wasn't really inclined to talk about it. Alistair knew the most out of anyone and Ancestor's knew that she had watered down the version she had told him. "He may have found the Urn of Sacred Ashes," she said instead.

"Why does this matter?" Sten pressed. "They are but the charred remains of a dead woman."

"I've heard that they have curative powers as well," Aunn offered. "And since our task is very dangerous and we're all likely to end up killed it will almost certainly come in handy."

"You believe that the charred ashes of a dead woman can heal you?" Sten asked, sounding faintly incredulous which Aunn figured meant that he had been rendered nearly speechless.

"I don't not believe it," Aunn said neutrally.

Sten didn't look convinced. "I will not simply follow in your shadow as you run from battle."

Aunn's eyes flashed. "I am not running away!" As much as she hated to admit it, she really was. She had always hidden behind her precious image even when it had hurt like when she'd refused to do a proper goodbye with Gorim, she was putting off her return to the home that had once loved her and now had rejected her and tried to kill her as long as possible, she couldn't stay and finish her talk with Gorim and hopefully work out some sort of closure, she couldn't even read what was likely to be her father's final words to her…but she was not running from battle. She had never run from a fight even if it were the prudent thing to do and she wasn't about to start now. If Sten really doubted that then she would just have to show him otherwise.

Sten must have found whatever it was that he was looking for as he merely said, "Then turn and fight. You keep the darkspawn waiting," before continuing towards Haven.

A guard spotted them and hurried over, looking annoyed. "What are you doing in Haven? There is nothing for you here."

"As a matter of fact, there is," Aunn corrected. Well it would appear that Zevran was right about the lack of welcoming. Well, either that or they just got a really irascible guard. "We're looking for someone and have reason to believe he might be here. Is there someone we can speak to who may be able to help us find him?"

"Revered Father Eirik may know," the guard admitted, grudgingly pointing them towards the village Chantry. "Unfortunately he's rather busy at present ministering to the villagers and so you'll simply have to wait. Or you could just leave. I think that might actually be the best course of action."

"We'll wait, thanks," Aunn replied.

"Did you say 'Revered Father'?" Wynne asked, frowning. "But only women are priests."

"Not in Haven, they aren't," the guard replied. "Now, if there is nothing else…"

Taking their cue, the group started to move on and in the direction that they had been pointed towards. It was difficult to describe exactly what it was about Haven that was off-putting. The first person they had talked to was unfriendly to say the least but Aunn got the impression that that was more village policy than that man simply being rude. This town had an atmosphere and just a general sense of foreboding. It was as if every building she saw was warning her away and telling her that she shouldn't be here.

"Are guards supposed to be that unfriendly?" Alistair complained as they walked along. "I mean, what's the point in even having a guard if they're just going to be rude to everyone they meet and try to get them to leave?"

"I would have thought that even you would have figured out that they want to keep people out, Alistair," Morrigan told him.

"That doesn't seem like it's very practical…oh, now that is creepy," Alistair said with a slight shudder as they walked past a child playing with a finger bone and muttering to himself.

"I haven't been to many human towns but…well, is this normal?" Aunn asked uncertainly as she watched villager after villager stop whatever they were doing to stare at them with barely concealed hostility.

"No, no it's not," Leliana replied. "Something is wrong here."

Trian growled in agreement.

"Like that finger bone," Alistair said. "That is definitely not normal."

"Let's just hurry up and get to the Chantry," Wynne suggested. "We do not need to start trouble here."

They stopped in front of the building that they had been directed towards.

"Is this it?" Leliana wondered. "It looks rather small to be a Chantry."

"And this is a small town so I would imagine that that suits them fine," Morrigan replied. "Not let us hurry this up."

As they had been warned, they walked into the middle of some sort of worshipping service.

"Lift up your voices and despair not for She will raise Her faithful subjects to glory when Her-"a grey-haired, bearded man dressed in robes that looked a great deal like the ones her father often wore was saying. Given that that was one of the subjects she was in the process of avoiding, the resemblance immediately raised her hackles. The man broke off the moment he became aware of the newcomers in his domain. "I understand that you are new here but surely the rest of Ferelden has not changed so much that it is no longer common courtesy to refrain from interrupting. Still, I suppose that there's nothing for it. We were almost finished anyway, my brothers and sisters, so you are dismissed."

"But…your Reverence!" one of the woman stood up, looking alarmed as the others began to obediently file out. "We have not yet completed the Sacraments of the Holy Mother or sung the Invocation-"

"That's quite alright, Nuada," the Revered Father, Eirik, cut her off. "I'm sure these honored guests have important business. The Sacraments can wait although your devotion says a great deal about your character."

Nuada beamed as she, too, left the Chantry building. Well, she was easily manipulated it would seem.

A good half-dozen men were still in the Chantry along with Eirik but if it came to a fight they now officially outnumbered their potential opponents. Aunn wondered if she was being overly paranoid to expect that things would end in violence but considering that Eirik had interrupted Nuada when she was describing their rituals and had mostly cleared the room – not to mention the overall atmosphere this village was exuding – her paranoia might very well be justified.

"I apologize for interrupting the sermon," Aunn began diplomatically.

"It would not have been such a disruption had you been from Haven," Eirik explained. "But many of the villagers find outsiders to be disturbing. We don't get a lot of visitors, you see."

"You don't say," Alistair murmured. That, much, at least had become clear to them in their short time here.

"Why are you here?" Eirik demanded.

"We are searching for a man called Brother Genitivi," Aunn answered, feeling even as she spoke that telling him the truth was a bad idea. Actually, to be more specific she was starting to feel that coming here at all was a bad idea but there was nothing for it now. "Have you heard of him?"

"I have," Eirik acknowledged. "And even though he has not left he has brought you and who knows who you may bring. Haven is a land long unchanged, you see. Unlike the rest of the Chantry we here in Haven continue using male priests, for instance, which will give you some sort of an idea of just how far back our traditions stem from. We will go to any length to protect our home from the change that you bring. Surely you can understand a man's need to protect his family?"

It was remarkable. Even as Eirik was talking about how he was planning to kill them he still sounded coldly polite. Aunn recognized a rhetorical question when she heard one which was just as well as she honestly couldn't say that she did at present. In the past, back before she'd ever seriously considered going to the Surface, she would have done a great deal to protect House Aeducan and, more specifically, her father and brothers but now…now protecting her family seemed to require her death and so she wasn't particularly interested in that anymore.

"Brothers, you know what must be done," Eirik said gravely as he pulled out a weapon and advanced on them.
He decided to attack Alistair which left Aunn to face one of the nameless brothers who quickly rallied to the Father's command.

Her opponent charged clumsily at her with a well-used weapon that was a few inches shorter than her own. Now that she actually had a proper shield – an Aeducan shield – it was easy to block his unskilled attack and to launch an offensive of her own which quickly forced the man back. Frustratingly, he kept retreating until he had backed up into a wall. When he tried to back up further the wall opened up revealing a secret passage – in a Chantry? How cliché – and he fell over. Once he was on the floor, Aunn promptly skewered him and glanced into the room. It didn't seem to be anything special but there had to have been a reason it was concealed, right? Or perhaps it was built for hiding something but there wasn't anything that needed to be hidden at the moment. Of course, given that they were currently being attacked for the high crime of being born outside of Haven then the odds of them not hiding something were not good at all.

"Why is it that these places always involve religious cults and human or elven sacrifice?" Zevran complained. Aunn turned around to see that they were done with their opponents as well. "Just once I would like to stumble across a secret village-wide cult that involve an orgy or a drinking festival. Even some interesting dancing would do. But noooo. It always has to be this."

"Do you often find yourself in the midst of a secret village-wide cult?" Aunn couldn't help but ask.

"You would be surprised," Zevran replied easily.

"Somehow I'm not," Wynne murmured.

"Is that a secret passage?" Leliana asked, peering over at Aunn. "I love secret passages! They're so exciting."

"That man had a medallion on him," Morrigan announced, holding up a very large bronze disk which bore what Aunn could now – to her mild horror – recognize as the symbol of Andraste. "It might be important or, at the very least, valuable."

"Good thinking," Aunn approved. "We should take it with us." If nothing else she supposed she could always give it to Leliana. The bard seemed to appreciate being given whatever Chantry memorabilia they came across.

The group followed Aunn into the hidden room and found a man lying on the ground clearly in pain. He looked familiar but it took her a few moments to place the Brother Genitivi. Then again, it had been quite some time since she had last seen him and he looked a bit worse for the wear. Then again, chances were that she did, too, with her barely-adequate warrior armor and the sword Harrowmont had given her.

"Brother Genitivi?" Aunn called out softly.

Genitivi groaned a bit as he opened his eyes. "Who are you? Th-they sent you in here to finish it, didn't they?" he asked, unable to stop his voice from trembling.

"No one has sent me anywhere," Aunn assured him. "I heard that you had disappeared, however, and I followed the instructions you left in your journal to get here. Do you recognize me?"

Genitivi peered closely at her for a moment. He started to shake his head no but then his eyes widened in sudden realization. "Lady Aeducan! I never thought I would run into you here of all places."

"Please, call me Aunn," Aunn instructed. "And by 'here' do you mean Haven or just on the Surface in general?"

"Both, to be honest," Genitivi replied. "I never would have thought King Endrin would have let his little girl run off to the Surface…"

"Well, I'm a Grey Warden now and a Blight is coming," Aunn explained. "Desperate times and whatnot."

"You two know each other?" Zevran asked, curious.

Aunn nodded. "Brother Genitivi spent quite a bit of time in Orzammar a few years back."

"Dwarven culture is fascinating if a little dangerous," Genitivi informed them. "Although I never managed to get myself in these kind of scrapes back in Orzammar…"

"We can be very hospital if need be," Aunn said absently, eyeing him over. "Your leg…what happened to it?"
"I've been here for…oh, I don't even know how long," Genitivi answered. "It must have been weeks by now. They gave me just enough food and water to survive and made sure to torture me regularly…needless to say, my leg's not doing so well."

"Morrigan? Wynne? Can you do anything for him?" Aunn asked, looking at her two mage companions.

The two women moved forward to examine him closer.

"I need bandages," Morrigan said bluntly.

"We can set the leg and ease some of the pain," Wynne concurred, "but he should try not to move around too much and he will need much rest before he recovers fully. He may never regain full mobility, I'm afraid."

"He may not even be able to keep the leg," Morrigan added. "It looks bad."

"Oh, Maker…" Genitivi said ruefully, eyeing his wounded leg with trepidation.

Aunn waited patiently for Morrigan and Wynne to be done as rushing them wouldn't do any good and there was no point in annoying them necessarily. Helping Genitivi probably could have waited, true, but since they had come all the way out here they may as well see if they could actually find the Urn and chances were the scholar would be much more inclined to help them if they returned the favor.

"This is the best we can do for now," Wynne declared once the pair was finished. "But you'll need to be careful and to keep your leg still and not put much weight on it for awhile."

"I'll be sure to do that," Genitivi agreed readily enough. "After I make my way to the Urn."

"Oh, you found it?" Aunn asked, surprised but pleased.

"I have," Genitivi confirmed, practically glowing with pride. "It's just up the mountaintop…I'm so close! I know it's there as the those cultists talk about it from time to time."

"We should hurry up so you can get back to Denerim then," Aunn said. "Do you know which way?"

"Are you mad?" Alistair cried out. "He can't go! He's seriously injured and has spent weeks at the mercy of these insane villagers! He needs to get back to Denerim where it's safe."

"Safe?" Genitivi scoffed. "I'll be safe when I'm dead. Besides, what's losing a leg compared to losing decades of research?"

"Well, we tried," Aunn said with a shrug.

"I tried," Alistair corrected. "You don't really seem all that concerned."

"Of course I don't want anything bad to happen to him," Aunn insisted. "But he is a grown man and fully capable of making his own decisions. You really need to respect that."

"But is he in any state to be making his own decisions?" Alistair demanded. "He's been tortured for weeks and who knows what kind of an effect that that's had on him!"

"Alistair," Leliana spoke up slowly. "We may not know how he has been effected but he has been tortured for weeks in pursuit of the Urn. Now that he has survived that and has come so close would you really deny him this? To see the Urn…many would die for the chance and he has managed to piece together the location of a sacred artifact the Chantry believes was lost to time. Don't take this from him."

"I…you're right," Alistair said reluctantly. "I still don't like it but if it's that important to him then I guess we can't really stop him."

Leliana really did have a way with passionate speeches, didn't she? If Aunn had to guess then she'd say Leliana was personally identifying with Genitivi since she herself was tortured for weeks when Marjolaine betrayed her and didn't want Genitivi's ordeal to be for nothing and her Chantry-obsession was calling for her to let him see such an important artifact for their religion. Either way, it got Alistair on board with what she wanted to do so she wouldn't complain.

"I can do this," Genitivi said firmly. "My faith gives me strength. And, of course, a liberal sprinkling of curiosity. I assume that if you're here and you aren't supposed to be then Eirik is dead? Did you find the medallion he always kept on him?"

"I have it right here," Morrigan said, holding it up. "Is it important?"

Genitivi nodded. "Very. We cannot get up the mountaintop without it."

"Out of curiosity," Alistair began, "did you see any knights? I've heard that Redcliffe was sending them out to look for the Urn."

"And when I went to your House fake-Weylon tried to send me into an ambush and mentioned several knights that he'd done the same to," Aunn added.

Genitivi's face closed off. "How could I forget?" he asked softly. "I guessed that there must have been an ambush set up as so many knights were dying. The ones killed on the spot were the lucky ones, I'm afraid. The ones brought back here for 'questioning'…well, at least they were granted death in the end." He froze. "Wait…did you say 'fake-Weylon'?"
Aunn nodded grimly. "I'm sorry to inform you that someone, probably from Haven, had Weylon killed and took his place. I found his body after I killed the imposter."

"They were asking me all sorts of personal questions over the last few days," Genitivi murmured to himself. "They were probably going to do the same to me, soon, because while a fake assistant is one thing a fake scholar would be even more convincing. Oh, poor Weylon! I never should have gotten you involved with this!"

"How did you end up here, anyway?" Aunn wondered. "I mean, your journal mentioned that Weylon had brought you the wrong book and when you were looking through the century-old Chantry trading record you found an account of a dwarf who was caught up in a blizzard and denied refuge here but it all sounded so vague."

"You have to understand that over the years I had narrowed the area the Urn could be down quite a bit," Genitivi explained. "I never thought that this village could have anything to do with the Urn but given that it was the closest settlement I figured that they might have some idea of where to look or at least know the geography better than I did. To my great surprise, Eirik told me that he did know of the Urn and offered me a room here…this room, in fact. Apparently they're desperate to keep outsiders away from the Urn."

"Will we face more resistance up at the mountain?" Aunn inquired.

"Most probably," Genitivi confirmed. "During the day most of the men go to the top of the mountain to do something although I'm not sure what. They seem to think Andraste herself is up there."

"Andraste?" Aunn repeated. "Like 'centuries-dead crusader' Andraste?"

"They didn't say," Genitivi said dryly. "Though the way they talk about her I am assuming so. Now if there are no more pressing questions then let us get on with this before my leg gives out and I am unable to come with you."



Alistair gloated quite a bit when Genitivi decided he couldn't keep up with them a little after he had managed to open the strange door and led them into the Temple. It wasn't that he was happy about Genitivi's injuries, by any means, but now he was sort of getting his own way and so even if the scholar were waiting for them instead of trying to make it back to Denerim and better medical care than just the patch-up job Wynne and Morrigan had been able to provide at least he weren't climbing a mountain and going into danger with them. And it wasn't just any mountain range, either. It was one of the Frostback Mountains. They were so very close to Orzammar right now and if Aunn had been even slightly less inclined to return when she was still so…confused, she supposed was a suitable enough word, then she probably would have suggested heading straight there next. As it was, she elected not to even bring it up and hope that nobody else would bring it up either. Fortunately, they all seemed to be distracted by the magnitude and/or stupidity of their current epic quest and barely seemed aware of their current geography.

Aunn, of course, refused to admit that Alistair was right and stubbornly insisted that Genitivi's excuse about wanting to stare at the statues and carvings in the temple was the truth. Honestly, she was a little relieved that he wouldn't be making the journey all the way to the Urn with them because even if the leg weren't an issue he was clearly no fighter and they had to face wave after wave of Haven warriors. These men were humans that wore horned helmets and fought like they were desperate. Something looked wrong about them although Aunn couldn't put her finger quite on what. They were more difficult to defeat then the average bandit she had come across but weren't attacking in sufficient numbers to overwhelm them.

Aunn hoped that Genitivi was getting something out of this temple because she had to say that she was not a fan. The door leading to the caverns they needed to travel through to reach the mountaintop was locked so they had to run all over the temple looking for a key. They thought they had found it once but it didn't fit so they had to keep searching. It turned out that the first key that they had found opened the door behind which the second key that let them into the caverns was.

That was such a stupid system. Yes, in case of intruders having two different keys hidden at opposite ends of the temple and far away from the actual door was a sound plan for slowing them down and allowing the temple's defenders – of which there were many including mages, some sort of demons, and (oddly enough given that they were native to Orzammar) bronto. It was simply impractical to make all of the cultists go through a ritualized scavenger hunt every time they wanted to head up to the top of the mountain and do whatever it was mountain-dwelling crazy cultists did. There was always the possibility that the cultists had their own key to the main door with them and left the other two behind in case they misplaced it but it still didn't seem like a very sound system. Then again these people had failed to strike her as very sound in general.

Once they had actually managed to get through to the caverns they had had to fight off many more of the strange horn-helmeted fighters as well as some assassins whose skills Zevran critiqued as he helped bring them down. At one point they reached a fork in the road and Aunn, despite her notoriously poor navigational skills, had been called upon to pick a path. She had elected to go right which she soon regretted as they were set upon by six drakes and several baby dragons. Fortunately, all six of the drakes weren't all at once or else that really could have ended poorly but Aunn could not, for the life of her, understand why there were drakes inside of caverns. It was strange enough that there had been one at the Circle Tower but that very well could have been for study. The cultists hardly seemed the researching type, particularly with their enthusiastic lack of interest in the rest of the world.

Aunn got her answer about why there were so many dragon-creatures when they stumbled upon the room with the dragon eggs. Although they didn't get a chance to ask the cultists standing guard about the presence of dragon eggs and yet more dragonlings freely roaming around the room before they had killed them it was pretty clear what was going on. These cultists were breeding dragons. Aunn had heard something about how thirty years ago when this age started a hitherto-thought extinct dragon was spotted and thus it was deemed the dragon age and so if dragons were so rare then to preserve them breeding them was probably a good idea. On the other hand, dragons were very dangerous, very large, and very destructive so why would people want to preserve them? And what's more, why would the cultists care?

As it happened, Aunn wasn't really all that curious and decided that the best thing to do would be to smash all the dragon eggs so they wouldn't come back to haunt her later. Morrigan flat-out refused to participate in the senseless slaughter of such powerful beings which was a bit of surprise but she did not deign to elaborate further nor make any more to try and convince the rest of them not to harm the eggs. Once they had reached the hatching-room there was no way forward and so they retraced their steps back to the fork in the road (taking the time to gather all the drake scales had taken time but at least this time they weren't really under any time constraints or Wynne probably would have killed them given just how many dead drakes there were) and this time took the left path. After dispatching a few more opponents they reached a room with a distinguished-looking dark-haired man waiting for them and four more men standing a little ways behind him.

"Stop!" he commanded them. "You shall go no further!"

"Is that so?" Aunn asked challengingly. "And why ever not?"

" 'Why ever not?'" the man repeated incredulously, his face twisting in anger. "I will tell you why not! You have defiled our most holy temple, you have slaughtered our devoted faithful, and you have spilled the blood of our young!"

"It's not like your 'faithful' were just standing around minding their own business when we came out of nowhere and massacred them," Alistair objected. "They all attacked us first. We were just defending ourselves as we made our way up here."

"You invade our temple, our sanctuary and you claim that you were acting in self-defense?" the cultist leader couldn't believe it. "They were the ones defending themselves! They were trying to protect his place from you!"

"I understand that," Aunn told him levelly. "But just the same we needed to get up here and they would not relent long enough for us to explain our purposes."

"If you had such a pressing need to get up here," the cultists said, sounding as if he very much doubted that they did, "then you should have approached Father Eirik about it and had him escort you."

"Oh, we surely would have," Zevran claimed. "Except…your Father Eirik committed suicide."

"He did what?" the leader looked as if his head were about to explode. "Explain. Now."

"He attacked us," Sten said shortly. "That was a mistake."

"And I suppose that that was self-defense as well?" the man said sarcastically.

"No, that was assisted suicide," Aunn corrected. "Didn't you hear Zevran? And while the killing of your faithful and defiling of your temple are true charges we didn't actually kill any of your young."

"We watched you kill two as you made your way up here!" the cultist cried out, outraged at their denials.

"But…those were dragonlings not people," Leliana said, confused.

"You killed Andraste's children which is an even greater offense against the Maker then if you killed our own," the man explained, looking up them with disgust.

"Then this 'Andraste' is a dragon?" Wynne said, taken aback.

"What else would she be?" the leader asked rhetorically. "A bronto?"

"I was rather under the impression that Andraste had been a human," Wynne answered.

"She was, once," the man admitted. "But now that she has shed her mortal remains she has been reborn as an all-powerful and immortal dragon!"

"If the Revered Mother were here then her head would probably explode," Alistair informed them. "I'm dead serious."

"Leliana's head looks like 'tis close to," Morrigan said, nodding towards the shell-shocked almost-sister.

"If only the last remnants of her mortal body were destroyed then our beloved Andraste could be freed…" the cultist said ruefully. "But alas, that wretched guardian won't let us anywhere near those accursed Ashes…"

"You…you want to defile the ashes?" Leliana couldn't believe it. "Why would you do something so abhorrent?"

"I just told you why," the leader said, looking a bit put-out at having to repeat himself. "To free Andraste. Yes, the ashes do have curative powers but we mustn't be so selfish as to use that as justification to keep our beloved Andraste imprisoned."

"You would destroy everyone's hope!" Wynne cried out, narrowing her eyes at him. "And all for your delusions… I will not allow this! Andraste is dead!"

"To arms, my brethren!" the man declared passionately. "Andraste will grant us victory!"

As the men – all mages, it turned out – attacked Aunn decided that Wynne was very lucky that she was planning on fighting these people anyway because if she had intended to ally with them or at least try and talk them down and the mage had ruined her chances of that because she couldn't keep her mouth shut then they would have problems. Why was it so important that she announced that she wasn't going to stand for talk of the ashes being defiled anyway? It would 'destroy everyone's hope'? What did that even mean? From what Aunn could tell most people didn't even believe that the ashes still existed let alone expected to be able to find it. And unless Wynne thought that the insular community of Haven would be announcing the destruction of the ashes or any one of them was either malicious enough or stupid enough to tell the largely-Andrastian Ferelden what they had done then it wasn't as if anyone's hopes would be destroyed by this except anyone who happened to care and was with them (which basically meant Wynne, Leliana, and possibly Alistair) and Genitivi. Maybe she'd talk with Wynne about not provoking a fight unnecessarily and when they could still get more information out of someone later.

Once the five were all dead – and fighting mages in a group was never fun even with her natural resistance to magic – the group headed out the door at the back of the caverns and found themselves on the top of the mountain.
It was strange that while Aunn had lived underneath a mountain very much like this one – perhaps part of Orzammar was even underneath this very mountain – she had never expected to be on top of one. It was a much different perspective, that was for sure.

"Okay, I think I see 'Andraste'," Alistair announced, pointing off in the distance where they could see the hazy outline of a dragon. "Let's hope that she doesn't notice us. I mean, we'll have to get past it anyway but I, for one, would prefer not having to fight a dragon."

"You don't want to slay a dragon? Some knight," Leliana teased.

"Well given what happened to the actual knights who came here I think perhaps it might be in my best interests not to aspire to be like them," Alistair said dryly.

"Do you think that building over there is where the ashes are?" Aunn wondered. She could feel…something. It was calling to her and it was very strong. She hadn't had much experience with this feeling but if she had to guess she'd say that there was lyrium here and lots of it. That would make sense given that this was one of the Frostback Mountains but she had never felt it so strongly before. She wondered if the strong lyrium presence would have affected anything up here. It was best to be on her guard either way.

" 'Tis very likely," Morrigan agreed and the group set out towards the building in question.

Halfway there, Aunn spotted a gong and stopped at it, considering. It seemed just so very arbitrary to leave a gong on top of a mountain. It must be used for something and given that the only ones who could come up here without being imprisoned or killed were the cultists it stood to reason that they had put the gong there. Now, chances were good that the people of Haven were all crazy but just the same they appeared to have a reason – no matter how bizarre – for everything they did and if they really worshipped this dragon as their prophetess reborn then the gong would probably be in some way involved with her. Perhaps it was how they summoned Andraste or at least got its attention?

Alistair noticed that Aunn wasn't walking with them anymore and turned back to see her holding the stick-thing that was lying at the base of the gone. "Oh, please tell me you're not going to do what I think you're going to do…"

"If I had known that you had a death wish I might have joined up sooner," Zevran murmured.

On the one hand, Aunn knew that this was a terrible idea and that they had no idea what the guardian that the cultist had spoken of was or if he was hostile and should conserve their strength. This also was extremely reckless and could very well get them killed unnecessarily. On the other hand she was finding it a little difficult to really concern herself with things like personal safety when all she'd wanted to do since seeing Gorim and finding out about everything was to cause a lot of death and destruction. While cutting a bloody swath from the Chantry to the top of the mountain had certainly helped a little (never let it be said that she had healthy coping mechanisms) it still wasn't enough and she thought that maybe a dragon might be. Besides, if Wade could create armor from drake scales then she could only imagine what he could do with dragon scales and she would be more than happy to show up in Orzammar wearing armor made from a dragon she had slain herself. She couldn't overstate what a horrible idea this was but then again she was an Aeducan and a troublesome thirst for glory was practically in her blood.

"I told you I wasn't planning on running from a fight, Sten," Aunn said as she struck the gong.

Modifié par Sarah1281, 09 juillet 2010 - 03:57 .

[Sarah1281]

Chapter Thirteen: Didn't Mean To Admit That

"Ow," Alistair said as paused in his scale-collecting to rub his wounded leg. "Remind me why I put you in charge again?"

"Because you found yourself mysteriously unable to choose which of four locations we would need to visit at some point to visit first," Morrigan reminded him. " 'Tis probably for the best, though."

"How can you say that after Aunn just made us fight a gigantic dragon?" Alistair demanded.

"Because I have no doubt that had you been in charge we'd still be in Lothering waiting for the darkspawn to take us," Morrigan replied disdainfully.

"Would not," Alistair muttered under his breath.

"It's almost cute how you think that not being in charge would have prevented me from ringing that gong," Aunn told him.

"If I were in charge we wouldn't even be here in the first place," Alistair pointed out.

"Well you're not so there's no point dwelling," Aunn said cheerfully.

"And those men we killed admitted that the Ashes did have curative powers," Wynne added.

"Yeah, but they're crazy," Alistair pointed out.

"They may have been…misled," Leliana conceded, "but that does not mean that they were wrong about everything."

"According to them we just killed Andraste," Alistair challenged. "So what does that say about us or the Ashes?"

"It merely means that they have named the dragon Andraste," Sten spoke up.

"Ah, so I was right!" Zevran exclaimed, looking pleased. "You do have a sense of humor. I must say that I approve."

Sten inclined his head. "Thank you."

"I don't know why you're complaining anyway," Aunn said as she deftly removed the last of the dragon scales. If she had thought scaling a drake was long and tedious – which she had – then scaling such a huge dragon (a high dragon according to Morrigan) almost made her wish that she hadn't bothered. Almost, but not quite, especially as she was sure that the armor Wade would make from it would be spectacular. "She only set you on fire a little."

"That's easy for you to say," Alistair shot back. "Andraste couldn't even pick you up."

There were, of course, perks to fighting a dragon. "Andraste nearly bit Sten's arms completely off and you don't hear him complaining."

"Yeah but he's…" Alistair glanced over at their qunari companion who was still bleeding a little as if he were hoping the perfect descriptive word would materialize on the giant's forehead if he kept staring long enough. "He's Sten."

"Are being Sten and complaining mutually exclusive now?" Aunn asked rhetorically.

"It very well might be," Alistair declared.

"Come on," Aunn said as she began moving towards the building that they had been heading to before being waylaid by her gong-ringing. "If we don't hurry then someone might realize we've killed their savior and come up here to try and kill us in turn."

They were able to enter the building with no further ado but once inside they saw that the door to proceed beyond the anteroom was blocked by a tragic-looking man with a dark beard who spotted them immediately. His beard was still rubbish by dwarven standards, of course, but wasn't as bad as some of the pathetic attempts she had seen. He wore silver armor and a stupid-looking helmet on his head that had wings for no reason Aunn could discern.

"I bid you welcome, pilgrim," the man said as they approached.

"Are you the 'wretched guardian' that the cultists spoke of?" Aunn asked.

"I am indeed the guardian," the guardian allowed, "though I would prefer to think of myself as not particularly wretched."

"Oh good," Zevran piped up, "having to deal with a wretched guardian would just make this process so much more tedious than it needs to be."

"I have waited years for someone worthy to come and seek out the Ashes," the guardian told them. "There used to be pilgrims but it seems that knowledge of this place has become lost to time. It is no matter, though, I seek only to serve beloved Andraste and will stand guard for all eternity with no one coming by if need be."

"That dragon we killed…it wasn't really Andraste, was it?" Alistair asked uncertainly.

"No, it was not," the guardian confirmed to everyone's relief. "It is understandable why their faith wavered and they thought that it was but I assure you that beloved Andraste has gone to the Maker's side and will not return."

"Will you let me go see the Urn?" Aunn inquired.

"I will let you go face the gauntlet," the guardian replied. "And if you make it through that then you will truly be worthy to pay your respects to beloved Andraste."

"What is the gauntlet?" Aunn asked. "Is it in the rooms behind you?"

"It is," the guardian nodded. "There are four tests of faith you must pass. Succeed and you will reach the Urn. Fail and you will perish."

"No pressure," Alistair muttered.

"But before you go there is something I must ask. I see that the path that has led you here has been full of suffering, both your own and that of others, Aunn," the guardian began.

Aunn started. "How did you know my name?" There was suffering in her past? Of course there was. Why else would she be on the Surface at all and, more specifically, why would she have come to Haven? It certainly wasn't about paying respects to Andraste or whatever he thought she was there for.

"The same way that I know of your past: it is laid out plain to see in the lines on your face and the scars on your heart," the guardian replied gently before his voice took on an accusing tone. "Bhelen's machinations led to Trian's death and your exile. You allowed this to happen. Do you believe that you failed Trian?"

Had she failed Trian? What kind of a question was that? She was only just beginning to understand how very…odd the attitude towards family had been among the nobility back home. People on the Surface seemed much more inclined to love and care for their kin solely because they were their kin and not in spite of it like she was used to. Aunn still wasn't convinced that Trian hadn't been plotting against her (likely at Bhelen's urging but he had still agreed) because if he hadn't been then why would Bhelen have come to her so shortly before his plan went into action? As far as she could tell people had found it surprising but not completely out there for her to have murdered Trian and Bhelen was the one who had arranged everything. That was her family.

Had she failed Trian? Aunn supposed that she had been wondering that for awhile but she wasn't any closer to finding an answer then when she had first laid eyes on her brother's corpse. She had not known that Bhelen was planning on having Trian killed that day. Realistically, she could not have known that. She had known that Bhelen was hinting at having Trian killed but…it was clear that he was trying to convince her to do it so for all she knew he intended to continue to try to persuade her or he would have acted at a later time. Even had she known that Bhelen was plotting Trian's death there was no way she would have been able to foresee the exact circumstances.

Had she failed Trian? They hadn't gotten along in years and she hadn't really felt like he was counting on her to do anything except possibly not to try to take the throne instead of him but it didn't really seem like he was expecting her to decline it if offered. He was older than she was and had been involved with the decadent games the grown-ups played for far longer than she. Since when was it her responsibility to keep him alive? Would he even have believed her had she tried to warn him? Bhelen was always so good at staying out of the way and appearing harmless that Trian had counted on him for all the things he never would have trusted her to do. That was a mistake, to be sure, but she couldn't promise that she would have been worthy of trust either.

Had she failed Trian? Even if he had believed her then there was no proof to take to their father that the conversation had even happened and Bhelen was always so unremarkable that it was far from guaranteed that he would believe it of him. If even that were dealt with and her father was convinced then he would still not have realized just how brilliant Bhelen's plan was (even she had not realized it until after she'd been condemned and she had been suspicious from the beginning) and decided that keeping Bhelen with the main part of the expedition would be safe enough. That way he could have both kept an eye on his youngest son and not had to deal with the minor scandal removing Bhelen from the expedition at the last second with no answer to give people as to why. Bhelen hadn't needed to be there personally to arrange Trian's death and even had their brother been on his guard against Bhelen that wouldn't have been enough to save him from the mercenaries.

Had she failed Trian? Bhelen was wise to come to her at the last second. Yes, doing so had meant that he had only one shot to convince her and her initial decision was the one he would have to trust that she'd stick with but it also meant that she wouldn't have time to change her mind about committing fratricide or to confront Trian about it. Bhelen had managed to keep Trian within his sight at all times that final morning and gotten Trian to avoid her of his own volition as well – not that that was any big accomplishment. Even had she decided to attempt to actually have an honest conversation with her elder brother (and wouldn't that have been a novel concept) then she still would have lacked an opportunity to even try to convince him.

Had she failed Trian? She refused to believe that what happened, no matter how well-planned, was inevitable but no matter how many times she ran through what had happened in her mind she could not see what she could have done differently to avoid falling into Bhelen's trap. The reason she was having so much difficulty with such a seemingly simple question was because she honestly didn't know. Maybe she didn't want to.

"My answer is my own, guardian," Aunn said quietly. Gorim had always been the only one she had felt comfortable discussing such personal things with but he wasn't here and all of her companions were not to mention how unsettled things still were between them…No, she really had no desire to try and explain why she had no answer or even to reveal that it wasn't so much a refusal to give her answer as not having any answer to give.

"Very well," the guardian said, surprisingly not choosing to press her for an answer. "You know your own heart."

"I, for one, am glad that you did not answer," Morrigan said approvingly. Of course she supported Aunn's reticence; she wasn't one for personal questions herself. "Such questions have nothing to do with our goal."

"Well I'm not," Wynne said accusingly, shaking her head and pursing her lips. "I find it very interesting how you refuse to answer a simple question. I think that that says more than you ever could."

Trian immediately started growling at the old mage. He really was a loyal creature, wasn't he?

Aunn stiffened. How dare she? Wynne may or may not remember who Trian and Bhelen were (if, indeed, Alistair had even used their names when he explained to her about Aunn's exile) but that was a highly personal question and if she were choosing not to answer it was because it wasn't such a simple question. In fact, even had she known nothing else about the situation the fact of the matter was that Aunn was being asked if she felt guilty for the death of someone she hadn't killed. What was so 'simple' about that? How dare she judge her not wanting to talk about it? Aunn hadn't really thought much of Wynne one way or another before but now she was quickly coming to dislike her.

Alistair, sensing something bad was about to happen, quickly spoke up, "You know, now you've got me all curious."

"I, for one, am with Morrigan," Zevran declared. "For a moment there I was worried you were about to go on a weepy tirade and try to 'share' your feelings. It would be most awkward then if we did not do the same and there is only so much feeling sharing that should be done when everyone is well-armed."

"What's past is past," Leliana said firmly. "Why bring it up now?"

Everyone looked to Sten to see what he thought of Aunn's lack of an answer or, indeed, the fact that the question had even been asked in the first place. "Parshaara. Leave the past where it falls."

"And what of those that follow you?" the guardian wondered.

Wynne stepped forward immediately. "Ask your question, Guardian; I am ready."

"You are ever the advisor, always ready with a word of wisdom. People look up to you, rely on your advice," the Guardian began. "But it has not always been this way. What of Aneirin? He was so mistrustful of humans and of mages and you were supposed to help him. It was your task to train him and yet all you did was drive him away. Your rash words and uncompromising self-righteousness compelled him to flee the Tower and the Templars hunted him down. Did you fail Aneirin?"

Wynne had paled the moment this 'Aneirin' had been brought up. She closed her eyes. "Yes…Yes, I did. He was only a child who had been brought up in an Alienage and so naturally he had been mistrustful of humans. He was my first apprentice and I was so sure of myself! I was wrong. I should have been more patient and understanding like my own mentors but I expected too much too quickly and we had this argument…I don't even remember what it was about but I do know that it wasn't worth it. It couldn't have been worth it. He was only fourteen when the Templars…" she shakily trailed off, unable to go on.

"Thank you," the Guardian said gently. "That is all I wished to know."

Sten spoke up next. "Demand whatever answers you want, spirit."

"You came here with your men as an observer and yet you allowed them all to be killed. You survived and you killed a family in a blind rage. You are the only qunari that most of them will ever meet and you have allowed them to see your people in this light. You have even managed to lose your sword, your very soul, and can never return. Have you failed your people?" the Guardian obliged.

Sten's face was impassive but his voice turned icy as he replied, "I have never denied that I failed."

The Guardian waited for a moment to see if he was going to continue but it appeared that he was not. He turned to Trian. "You used to be known as Barkspawn and you served another master. He was killed in the Korcari Wilds as he made his way to Ostagar. You were protecting him and yet you still live while he does not. Did you fail your former master?"

Trian promptly sat down, apparently not expecting to have been questioned. He was silent for a moment and Aunn could only guess that he was thinking the matter over. Finally, he glanced back at her and then barked defiantly.

"Did anyone catch that?" Aunn wondered.

"Then you do not dwell on past mistakes – neither yours, nor someone else's," the Guardian said, sounding mildly approving.

"I think that means 'no'," Zevran told her.

Aunn rolled her eyes. "Well, it's easy to tell that now!"

"I wish I spoke mabari," Zevran said idly. "It seems like it would be a very useful skill to learn in this country."

"It isn't, trust me," Morrigan said dryly. "They have nothing much to say."

"You can speak mabari?" Leliana asked, looked awed. "You are so lucky!"

"What kinds of things do they teach you in the Orlesian Circle?" Wynne asked, shaking her head.

"You speak of trust, Morrigan, daughter of Flemeth, and yet your companions do not know your true purpose for coming with them. You-" the Guardian started to say.

"Begone, spirit!" Morrigan quickly cut him off. "I will not play your games."

"I will respect your wished," the Guardian agreed quietly.

"Oh, so no one's going to judge her for not answering?" Aunn demanded, a little annoyed.

"Well, she didn't even hear the whole question so she would have a little bit of a difficult time answering, no?" Zevran asked.

"And I can already feel her judging from here," Morrigan said, nodding towards Wynne.

"Well you have not denied that you have an ulterior motive for being here," Wynne pointed out.

"And you don't?" Morrigan laughed. "Please. You were practically begging us to be able to come along even though your first enchanter said he needed you. But perhaps you are right. Perhaps I don't' really care about the Blight that could kill us all but instead am just here for the entertainment value."

Wynne chose not to respond to that.

"Zevran, you have brought much death and destruction to this world. Is there any death that you regret more than that of your fellow assassin Rinna?" the Guardian queried.

Zevran froze. "How did you know about that?"

"The same way I knew of everyone else's past. It was written on-" the Guardian began.

" 'The lines on my face and the scars on my heart', yes, I heard," Zevran interrupted. "And…yes. If that is all you wish to know, then yes. Next question."

"Leliana," the Guardian sounded outright cold here. "You used to revel in your life as a bard until your master betrayed you. You ran and sought safe haven in the Chantry but that was not enough for you, was it? You had to be just as special here in Ferelden as you were in Orlais. You invented a vision in order to attract attention but even that new purpose of yours isn't enough to keep you from slipping back into your old lifestyle."

"I…" Leliana drew back as if struck. "I did not invent my vision!"

"But the Maker only spoke to beloved Andraste and you are not her. Or do you imagine that you are her equal?" the Guardian pressed.

"The Maker had never spoken to anyone since he left us until Andraste came along and I'm sure that at first no one believed her, either. Why should they? The Maker had abandoned us," Leliana responded hotly. "But eventually it became clear that she truly had the Maker's favor. I do not see myself as equal to Andraste but I don't have to be. I'm not the hero here but if I can help stop this Blight then that's enough for me. If the Maker felt that my skills would be useful to Aunn and Alistair then who are you to question him?"

"You are certain of your faith," the Guardian said impassively.

"And what's more, you're right. Of course you're right. You know our answers before we give them, don't you?" Leliana accused. "These questions are more for our benefit than yours. As to Marjolaine…I have been a bard or training to be one for most of my life. I thought I was truly changing but then when I saw her again and she so casually dismissed my redemption to insist that I am just as she is…but she cannot decide who I am and so even though she may have been partially right about me I'm not going to become her. I will never let her have so much power over me again."

"I guess that just leaves me, then," Alistair said a little nervously. "I get the feeling that now is where I'm supposed to say 'do your worst' but if you'd like to hold back a little or even a lot then I would really appreciate that."

"Alistair. Knight. Warden. Defender of Man. Your brother is dead and a civil war rages. There is no other heir to be found and you watch as the country tears itself apart even as they are under siege from the darkspawn. You could end it. Why haven't you stepped forward?" the Guardian questioned.

Six heads turned towards Alistair.

"Something you forgot to mention, Alistair?" Aunn asked sweetly. "And does this explain why you bore such a strong resemblance to Cailan and Loghain ignored your existence when we met him at Ostagar?"

"I…it's not like that, really!" Alistair insisted. "My father was King Maric, yes, but my mother was hardly Queen Rowan. She was just some serving girl he had an affair with and so I was sent to live with Arl Eamon for a decade until I was sent to the Chantry and I stayed there until Duncan recruited me and that's it. They made it very clear to me that I wasn't royalty or even nobility and I wasn't even a recognized bastard so the only way I'd ever be able to take the throne is if the Landsmeet itself decided to legitimize me which I don't see happening. I mean, look at me. Do I look like King material?"

"No," Morrigan said almost before he had finished speaking.

"That was a rhetorical question!" Alistair cried out. "Although I suppose that was the point I was trying to make, so…"

"Why didn't your father legitimize you himself?" Aunn asked. "Was he trying to prevent you and Cailan from killing each other off?"

Alistair looked horrified. "No! Maker…no. Why would you even think something like that?"

Aunn crossed her arms and waited patiently for realization to dawn.

"Oh, because of what happened with your…right. Well, as far as I know they just didn't want me to threaten Cailan's rule – not by killing him but by providing another choice for Cailan's political opponents to support instead or for disgruntled peasants to rally around," Alistair explained.

"I think you're being naïve," Aunn declared. "If you really are the only surviving member of a bloodline that has been ruling this nation since its inception then there is a very good chance that at least the possibility of you taking the throne to come up."

"Maybe that's how things work in Orzammar but it's not how it does here," Alistair said stubbornly. "When we get to Arl Eamon, you'll see. If he can't work something out with Queen Anora then he'll become the next King or maybe Bann Teagan if he feels that he's too old. We are going there next, aren't we?"

As it happened that was not how things worked in Orzammar but people here seemed a lot more focused on hereditary than they had back home and there was really no point in correcting him so she'd let it go. For now. But they would indeed see when they got to Redcliffe. "Right after we pick up Sten's armor in Denerim," Aunn confirmed.
"Good. You know, I'm actually glad this came up now. I mean, it probably would have come up at some point when we reached Redcliffe and now I don't have to worry about when to tell you and you've all found out at once," Alistair said cheerfully.

"If I had known you were an heir to the throne I would have charged extra," Zevran mused.

"How can you say that?" Wynne demanded, appalled.

"Quite easily, as it happens," Zevran replied.

"But you didn't succeed," Leliana pointed out.

"True," Zevran allowed. "So I suppose it would not have made a difference in the end."

"Are we done here?" Sten demanded.

The Guardian nodded. "The way is open. Go forth and may you find what you seek."

The group walked past him and into a room with eight translucent people and a closed door.

"I'm going to go out on a limb and say that that's locked," Alistair said. "So what? Do we need to talk to these people?"

"Probably," Leliana agreed. "There are eight of them and eight of us. I say we each deal with one of them."

"But Trian doesn't actually speak our language," Aunn reminded her. "Or at least he won't."

"Why doesn't he go with you, then?" Wynne suggested. "He is your dog, after all."

"Alright," Aunn agreed reluctantly.

She walked up to one at random. "An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. The debt of blood must be paid in full. Of what do I speak?" the spirit demanded, her voice cold and cruel.

Aunn groaned. Riddles, then? She had never liked riddles and so wasn't pleased that she was being forced to do two of them but at least she didn't have to try and answer all of them. It's not like her companions were helpless, after all, and if they got their riddle wrong then it was their problem and not hers.

Still, this was an easy one. A debt of blood. She had one, didn't she? Or rather one to collect. She wasn't sure if she intended to do that yet but it was certainly on her mind often enough. "Vengeance."

The spirit nodded. "Yes. My husband, Hessarian, would have chosen a quick death for Andraste. I made him swear that She would die publicly, with her Warleaders, that all would know the Imperium's strength. I am justice. I am vengeance. Blood can only be repaid in blood." With that, she disappeared.

Aunn shivered. That sounded like an obsession. Like something that could consume her if she weren't careful. She would probably even think it was worth it in the end. She wondered if Bhelen did. Not like he'd ever admit otherwise even if he did regret it.

She looked around and saw one spirit no one was addressing. As she walked past Sten she heard him reply, "Duty. Without duty then any army will crumble."

"That is not the answer," his spirit replied. "But you've got a long road ahead of you and I will not add to it." With that, he disappeared.

Aunn's second spirit was a man in a horned hat. "A poison of the soul, passion's cruel counterpart; from love she grows, till love lies slain. Of what do I speak?" Okay, this one was a bit harder. This was a negative emotion, obviously, and one that stemmed from love but ended up overshadowing it. Her first intention was to go with 'hate' but she knew that it was possible to hate people that she had never loved. For instance, Aunn hated Lady Dace, Vartag Gavorn, and now Frandlin Ivo and she had never felt anything warmer than indifference towards any of them. Bitterness? Perhaps but where did the bitterness come from? "Jealousy."

The man looked pained as he nodded and his voice was full of regret. "Yes, jealousy drove me to betrayal. I was the greatest general of the Alamarri, but besides Her I was nothing. Hundreds fell before Her on bended knee. They loved Her, as did the Maker. I loved Her, too, but what man can compare with a god?" With that, he disappeared as well.
Aunn wasn't quite sure what the Alamarri were, who that guy was talking about (although it was probably Andraste since this was basically a shrine to her), who this guy even was, who that man the other spirit was talking about was, or who the other spirit was supposed to be. It looked like she wasn't getting too used to the Surface, after all, even if she did now recognize the symbol of Andraste. Oh, thank the Ancestors.

"Can you repeat that?" Alistair asked.

"She wields the broken sword, and separates true kings from tyrants," Alistair's spirit repeated patiently. "Of what do I speak?"

"I'm going to have to go with mercy," Alistair said slowly.

"Yes," the spirit confirmed. "I could not bear the sight of Andraste's suffering, and mercy bade me end Her life. I am the penitent sinner, who shows compassion as he hopes compassion will be shown to him." At that, the spirit faded away.
"And you say you'd make a terrible King," Aunn teased. Sure, in Orzammar that probably would make him one but Ferelden appeared to be different and if Loghain's daughter remained in power then it was likely that the Teyrn himself would as well and so there was every chance that Alistair was wrong about his not being needed.

"Oh yes. I have mastered the art of riddle-solving. Clearly I am the most qualified person for the throne," Alistair deadpanned.

"Well now that you've agreed," Aunn began.

"Oh, look, door's open," Alistair said quickly as he began walking to it.

"I wouldn't worry too much if I were you," Zevran told her as he came up behind her. "In Antiva we have ways of dealing with those that are reluctant to put themselves forward as candidates."

"Assassination?" Aunn guessed.

"Very good," Zevran looked pleased. "Is that how things are done in Orzammar, as well?"

"Usually the assassination takes place before the need for succession but other than that…yes, that sounds about right," Aunn agreed.

"Aunn, there is a dwarf in the next room and we were wondering if you knew who he was," Leliana called back to her.

"What? Am I supposed to know every dwarf on the Surface now?" Aunn asked incredulously. "You know I've only actually met three up here and one of them doesn't even count since I knew him from before."

"Be that as it may, he won't talk to us and I think it is a part of this 'gauntlet'," Morrigan told her, rolling her eyes.

Aunn sighed and went to go see who it was. Why in the world would she have some sort of personalized test and not anybody else? Or would they have to go through one for each of her companions like with the questions? By the Stone, she hoped not.

Aunn pushed past Wynne and Sten to walk into the room and when she caught sight of the dwarf that they had referred to, she froze. Even only seeing him from behind she would still know him anywhere. "Trian," she breathed. This…this wasn't possible. He was dead. She hadn't just heard news of his death but she had seen it firsthand. Finding his body had been what had ultimately sealed her fate. But still…it looked just like him and not even translucent like the other spirits. He didn't even have the injuries tha killed him and she could almost believe...

Trian turned around to face her. "Greetings, my exiled sister," he said solemnly but unable to resist sneering a bit. "I would lament your fate, but why should I? You have been cast out to walk the Surface, whereas I…hmph."

"Be honest, big brother," Aunn said quietly. "Would you honestly and genuinely lament my fate had I been exiled without your dying or being exiled yourself?"

"That would depend entirely on the circumstances, wouldn't it?" Trian asked rhetorically. "I daresay I would find it easier to miss you once you were actually gone never to be seen again and I could forget all of our disagreements."
Aunn sighed. It seemed death hadn't changed Trian all that much. "You say the sweetest things."

"Perhaps I am too hard on you," Trian conceded. "Bhelen made fools of us both. Were I a spectator I would applaud him for his clever manipulations. However, I find it hard for me to remain…unbiased, in this regard."

"Well, he did have you killed," Aunn said indulgently. "Besides, I don't think the people involved are supposed to remain unbiased anyway."

"It would make it easier," Trian replied.

"I know," Aunn said softly. She hesitated. "I'm proud of him anyway."

Trian snorted. "You would be. I noticed that you didn't answer the guardian. Do you feel nothing about your elder brother's betrayal and death? Especially knowing what it led to for you?"

"You're not my brother," Aunn accused. She hadn't really thought these Ashes – atop the practically overwhelming lyrium vein – could actually summon a spirit but she had allowed herself to pretend before he had tried to pull an answer out of her where there was none.

"I am the brother you remember," Trian disagreed, his voice actually softening. "The one that you have seen in your dreams these past few months."

"What do you want me to say?" Aunn asked simply.

"The truth would be nice," Trian hinted.

Aunn laughed harshly. "The truth? Since when has the truth ever been worth a damn thing? I didn't want you dead but had I trusted Bhelen I probably would have killed you myself. Is that enough 'truth' for you?"

"I suppose it is enough that you didn't," Trian decided.

"Would you have killed me?" Aunn demanded.

"Had you refused to surrender then yes, yes I would have," Trian said seriously.

"A surrender was as good as a confession," Aunn pointed out.

"Which is exactly why it would have been enough," Trian told her. "There is no shame in admitting the mistakes of the past, little sister. Indeed, it is the only way that you will ever be able to move on."

"Easy for you to say. But you're lucky, you know," Aunn told him, a little wistfully.

Trian drew back in surprise. "I'm what? I'm dead and you think that that's lucky?"

"Well…yeah," Aunn said, nodding. "I mean, don't get me wrong; if I just had to choose between being alive and being dead then I would most definitely choose being alive. But like you said, you died and I was exiled so that means my choices are really limited to those two. You may be dead but at least you still exist in Orzammar."

"But I'm not even alive to enjoy that," Trian countered.

"And when I go back to Orzammar I'm going to have to deal with being treated like a Kinslayer by some and having everyone else pretend that they don't know me," Aunn complained. "Not to mention having to see Bhelen and possibly Father again."

"You know Father regrets what he did," Trian said softly.

"I do," Aunn admitted. "But it's not enough."

"Read his letter," her brother ordered. Really, some things never changed, did they?

"I'm just not looking forward to the inevitable accidental fratricide," Aunn sighed.

"Sometimes there just isn't any helping these things," Trian agreed.

"Wait, what?" Alistair sputtered. "You too? How can you have an inevitable accidental anything much less fratricide? What is the matter with you people?"

"A great deal," Aunn said absently.

"I know you have to go," Trian announced. "You need to find these Ashes of Andraste. Well, perhaps not 'need' but since you came all the way out here…I find all this worship of her a little strange, honestly, but it's almost like she's a human Paragon, isn't it?"

Aunn's eyes widened. "That…that's exactly it! Now I think I'll actually be able to understand this bizarre Andrastian cult. Well, almost. The only Paragon I've ever met was Branka and she was a little…"

"Branka?" Trian supplied helpfully.

"Exactly!" Aunn exclaimed.

"Even if you won't answer the question or can't, it's clear that you've at least been thinking about it and I suppose that that is enough," Trian decided, holding out something for her to take. "Take this and use it well. I give you this…and my blessing. Believe it or not, Aunn, I am proud of you."

As Aunn reached out to take it, the specter of her brother disappeared, leaving only an amulet in her hand. The front of the amulet had a symbol she didn't recognize but would be willing to bet involved Andraste in some way but the back was mirrored and as she gazed upon it she thought she saw Trian for a moment before the image vanished. Very, very strange.

And of course he would leave the second he said not one but two positive things about her. It had been years since the last time he had and Aunn couldn't tear her eyes away from the amulet she held in her hands. That wasn't him. It couldn't have been. It looked like him, sounded like him, even behaved like him but Trian was dead and even if Fade Spirits could be pulled back then her brother was as dwarven as she and would still not be eligible for such a return.

Aunn wasn't sure how long she stood there, just staring at the amulet, until Leliana's voice brought her back to the present. "Oh, I just knew that you could never be guilty of such a horrible crime as fratricide!"

" What makes you think that?" Aunn asked carefully.

"You just told your brother that your other brother killed him and he did not disagree and I'm fairly certain that he would know," Leliana explained happily. "Oh, it's all still so very dreadful but at least we know that that you were innocent."

"That…that doesn't really matter," Aunn said, cursing herself for letting that slip. It was just that Trian had already known and she had almost forgotten that her companions were there at all. "Legally I'm still guilty and soon enough I'll likely actually be guilty as well."

"I really don't approve of all this talk of fratricide," Wynne frowned.

"Neither do I, really," Aunn replied flippantly. "But not talking about it won't make it go away."

"No, it never does," Zevran agreed quietly.

"I'm still not sure why you're planning to kill your brother if you don't want to," Alistair said again.

"That's because you are a fool," Morrigan scoffed. "If he killed one sibling and tried to kill a second then what is to stop him from trying again?"

"Morrigan's right," Aunn told them, slipping on the amulet. "Well…probably. It's not definite but in all likelihood…but that's a long ways off and we still need to find the Ashes so let's go."



After fighting their way through spirit versions of themselves and a ridiculous bridge puzzle that Aunn had refused to get involved with and made Leliana and Zevran solve instead, the group was faced with a fire blocking their way to the Ashes. They could see the staircase leading up to the Ashes from here but not even Morrigan and Wynne teaming up to cast an ice spell at the flames was having any effect.

"This is your final test of faith," the Guardian informed them, wandering into the room. "You must remove your armor and walk through the flames."

"What happens if we don't?" Alistair asked.

"Then you are not worthy and may not reach the Ashes," the Guardian responded solemnly.

"So we're going to have to take off our armor?" Aunn asked irritably. "That's going to take forever!" Honestly, she wasn't sure that the power of the Maker or whatever would stop the flames from burning her but if she ran through quickly enough she could probably keep the damage done to a minimum and should the Ashes actually work it would be soon healed anyway. The problem was, of course, just how long it took to remove and then put armor back on.
Sten, Morrigan, and Wynne did not actually have any armor and so they quickly removed their clothing. Zevran, Leliana, Alistair, and Aunn, however, were armored and so it took them quite a bit longer to comply with the guardian's request.

Finally, they were done. Aunn knew that this was a really, really bad idea but also that the magic in this place could very well mean that she literally could not get to the Ashes without doing it. Everyone else seemed to find this a bad idea as well and since they were only here because of her then they were waiting for her to go first. Nothing for it, then; she was just as likely to catch on fire if she attempted to cross the flames now as she would be twenty minutes from now or even longer. Basically, unless she wanted to go the 'wait until the magical flames die out' route then she had little choice. She closed her eyes and ran through the flames.

After going far enough that she was sure she would be beyond the fire she opened her eyes and glanced behind her in confusion. Sure enough, the flames were still there. She had passed through them and hadn't felt a thing. Even though she had been naturally resistant to a magical fire like this she still should have felt something and yet she didn't. Unless that was the point? But no matter.

Seeing that she was fine, Aunn's companions quickly made their way through and then the fire disappeared. So either she really messed up by not waiting two minutes for the fire to literally go out on its own or it was only burning for the sake of testing them. She turned back to the Guardian. "Can we put our clothes on now? I wouldn't want to disrespect Andraste by approaching her in my underwear."

"By all means. You have proven yourself worthy of approaching Andraste. You have passed through the gauntlet and walked Her path and, like her, you have been cleansed," the Guardian answered her before fading away.

"So now he's the one making comparisons between me and Andraste," Leliana murmured as she began dressing, still apparently upset about the Guardian's earlier accusations. She'd need to talk to her about that later. And probably Wynne about her issues. Maybe mention Sten's sword. DEFINITELY needed to yell at Alistair for neglecting to mention that his father was a King (it wasn't like she'd hidden that kind of information now had she). Trian would probably be fine. She should probably get to know Zevran better since she hadn't really taken the time to just talk to him. At least Morrigan hadn't had any Guardian-pointed-out issues for her to worry about. On the other hand, the Guardian claimed that Morrigan had an ulterior motive that none of them knew about and that she clearly would rather they didn't find out about. Still, she could worry about that later, she supposed. As long as that ulterior motive didn't involve sabotaging their quest to stop the Blight – and Aunn highly doubted that it did – then it could wait.

Once Aunn finished, she looked around to see that her companions were also done. She had taken the longest but then again she was wearing the heaviest armor of the four of them that had actually bothered with armor. With that out of the way, she made her way up the stairs leading to what she hoped was the Urn of Sacred Ashes.

The Urn was difficult to miss as it stood nearly two feet high and was ornately decorated.

"I never dreamed I could ever lay my eyes on the Urn of Sacred Ashes!" Leliana gushed. "I have no words!"

"You are talking quite a bit for one purportedly speechless," Morrigan said dryly.

"I could not have asked for a greater honor than to be here," Wynne said reverently. "Thank you for giving me this opportunity."

"I honestly never thought anyone could find this," Alistair confessed. "And so even though I still think that this was highly unnecessary if it made Leliana and Wynne happy and annoyed Morrigan then I think that it was worth it."

"I am so reminding you that you said that the next time you tell me how pointless this was," Aunn warned him.

"That's a nice vase," Zevran remarked. "I want one."

Still, Sten's reaction was probably closer in line with Aunn's own. "Congratulations. You found a waste bin."

"Oh, it's not just any waste bin," Zevran claimed. "This is a very fancy one. Probably worth a lot…"

"We…We are not going to sell the Urn of Sacred Ashes!" Leliana cried out, appalled.

"I did not expect us to," Zevran said easily. "But that doesn't make this any less valuable."

"I wonder…do these ashes really work?" Aunn wondered aloud.

"You've dragged us all up here and you've having doubts now?" Alistair couldn't believe it.

"It's just that I don't want to drag around a pouch of ashes for when I or someone else is about to die only to find out at the last second that they don't really work," Aunn explained. "Is there something we can test it on?"

"My arm is still injured and plainly visible to see if it worked," Sten offered, stepping forward.

"Good idea," Aunn said approvingly. She reached into the Urn and took out a pinch of the Ashes. Sten held his arm out for her – and bent down a little to her slight embarrassment – and she sprinkled the Ashes onto his wound.
Nothing happened for a moment but then before their very eyes Sten's wound began to heal and within seconds it looked like it had never nearly been torn off by a high dragon at all.

Now that was impressive.

"So I know that we're only supposed to take a pouch-" Aunn began.

"That was 'pinch'," Wynne corrected helpfully.

"Of Ashes but this looks like it could be really useful so I suggest each of us pilgrims take our own pouch," Aunn said, pointedly ignoring her.

Since she had failed in her mission to avoid her personal problems by coming here with the guardian asking about Trian and a specter of her brother showing up personally, she figured she might as well get some use out of this otherwise pointless detour. And who knew? Maybe they really would encounter someone desperately in need of healing and have saved themselves a trip.

Modifié par Sarah1281, 09 juillet 2010 - 06:31 .

[Sarah1281]

Chapter Fourteen: Friends Do Flowers, Too

Once everyone had taken their pouch of Ashes – even Wynne and Leliana though they were hesitant about it – the group returned to Genitivi.

The older man didn't even noticed their approach, so intent was he on the carving he was studying. It really was a good thing that he hadn't been discovered by an enemy or he would have stood even less chance than usual as injured and unarmed as he was.

"Brother Genitivi?" Aunn called out softly so as not to startled the man.

Genitivi raised a hand to forestall her as he kept examining his carving for a moment before reluctantly tearing his gaze away from all the history and turning towards her. "Welcome back," he said exuberantly. He looked better than he had when they had left him since he had gotten the chance to rest and clearly all the new discoveries he was making had done much to buoy his spirits. "You've been gone for quite awhile, I think. Have you had any luck locating the Ashes?"

Aunn handed him her pouch of Ashes in lieu of answering.

"What's this?" Genitivi asked curiously as he opened the pouch and peered inside. "Some sort of dust? You might want to get this cleaned ou-" he broke off mid-word. "This isn't dust, is it?"

"It is," Sten disagreed.

"Well, it might be dust but to be more specific it is Andraste's dust," Aunn told him, smiling a little at how completely awestruck he looked and how reverently he held that little pouch in his hands.

"Oh Maker, but I'm not worthy!" Genitivi breathed.

"Spare me," Morrigan muttered.

"Oh, I don't know about that," Alistair told him seriously. "After all, you were the one to locate Haven and get us here. If it weren't for you this never would have happened. If that doesn't make you worthy to be in the presence of the Ashes then I don't know what does."

"Maybe," Genitivi said vaguely. "But…what was it like? Going to the Urn, I mean?"

"There is nothing that has touched me quite so deeply!" Leliana enthused. "I shall never forget it as long as I live."

"You could feel the power present in the ashes," Wynne agreed. Or she could just be feeling the lyrium but there really was no point in arguing now was there? It wasn't like Aunn even cared what her companions thought about this. "And we tested the Ashes; they really do have curative powers."

"That's remarkable," Genitivi told them, his eyes alight with happiness. "What about you, Aunn? Unless things have changed more than I had thought you're not actually Andrastian."

"I'm not, no," Aunn confirmed. "It was satisfying to finally reach the Urn, though, and I'm glad to see that the myth of the Ashes' healing powers was true. There were tests to even get to the Urn, you see, and passing them took awhile. I don't think just anybody could have done it."

"Tests?" Genitivi repeated, fascinated. "What kind of tests? I want to hear all about it."

"And I'll make sure to tell you. Perhaps on the way back to Denerim?" Aunn suggested.

"Oh, you're heading to Denerim as well?" Genitivi asked, surprised.

Aunn nodded. "Yes, we have business there."

"Do you?" Zevran asked. "Will there be any shopping involved? I'm going to need a different weapon if I'm going to be expected to fight many people head-on."

"That's doable," Aunn said easily.

"I suppose travelling with the people who managed to kill my captors is wise than trying to travel alone," Genitivi mused. "And probably faster, too. Oh, I've got so much to do! The Chantry has been aware of my research for years but never very supportive. Maybe now that I've got proof it will not seem so much like blasphemy. We must organize expeditions! Armed expeditions, of course, as this town won't be eager to accommodate us. There's so much history! And think of what this will mean to the devoted! There can be pilgrims again!"

Aunn was trying not to think of that. She was not particularly fond of the Chantry's made-up religion nor their over-obsession with their human Paragon. Still, Genitivi seemed excited and after all of his hard work and everything he went through to get to this point she couldn't very well force him to keep this a secret. Besides, she'd always thought he was a good man for a human.

Still, she had to ask. "Are you sure that that's the best plan? People will end up exploiting it and if everyone takes a pinch of ashes then sooner or later it will run out."

"Pinch?" Wynne repeated in a low voice. "I thought you said pouch."

"Our need is greater," Aunn said virtuously. "We are the only hope against the Blight."

"I can see your point," Genitivi admitted. "But it is just a risk we will have to take. The mortal remains of Andraste belong to the faithful and we cannot possibly deny them this because of the untrustworthiness of a few!"

"As long as you're willing to deal with the consequences," Aunn said with a shrug. This really wasn't her problem and by the time anything actually happened she doubted she'd still be in Ferelden.



The group had headed as quickly as they dared out of the decisively village of Haven. Fortunately, it appeared that the village at large was not aware of what they had done and so not only had they not been stopped but they had even been encouraged to leave quicker. Aunn would have killed each and every one of them in order to leave that place behind but she had to admit that she was rather glad that she had not had to. Genitivi said that he knew of a faster way to get back to Denerim than the route that they had taken to reach Haven in the first place and since none of the party – except, perhaps, Trian but he still had nothing to say about it or anything else – had done the kind of extensive travelling across Ferelden that Genitivi evidently had and so they took the route that he suggested.

As if they needed further proof of the strangeness of Haven and the land surrounding it, on their journey they were soon nearly flattened by some sort of metal object that fell from the sky. As they stood around staring at it a peasant couple approached to see what the commotion was about. When a baby crawled out of the wreckage they were surprised to say the least. Just as unexpected was the couple deciding to name the child Clark and raise him as their own but it wasn't as if any of them could take care of a child and Aunn really had no idea what to do with orphaned children except to give them to the Chantry and, well, he would probably be better off with that couple.

Genitivi told them that there was a small town called Honnleath they'd need to pass through on their way back to the capital. It was supposed to be a sleepy little village with not much of interest but the inactive golem in the center of town – Aunn had perked up at that because, honestly, who wouldn't want a giant golem following them around but apparently no one knew how to get it to start up again – but, as fate would have it, they arrived just in time to see panicked villagers fleeing from darkspawn.

"And mother wondered why I wasn't eager to leave the Wilds again," Morrigan murmured to herself.

"You know, just once I would like to go someplace and not need to worry about saving everyone's life and solving all of their problems," Alistair announced.

"Let's just worry about taking the darkspawn down, okay?" Aunn suggested. She turned to Genitivi. "Stay close."

He nodded. "Right."

They managed to fight their way to the middle of town without much difficulty. These darkspawn weren't very organized and didn't appear to have much of a goal beyond causing havoc.

"It's a shame that this golem wasn't activated when the darkspawn came," Wynne said ruefully. "I'm sure it would have been a big help against the darkspawn."

"Perhaps no one had its control rod," Aunn suggested.

"Oh, I very much doubt that they did," Zevran agreed.

"You do?" Leliana asked. "Why?"

"Because on my way to ambush and kill you all, I happened upon a merchant who offered to give me a control rod for a golem," Zevran explained.

Genitivi started. "You…you tried to kill these people?"

"It wasn't my best work," Zevran admitted, "but it all worked out."

"Why would you buy a control rod without buying a golem?" Sten demanded. "It makes no sense."

"That would have been a rather foolish thing to do, it is true," Zevran agree, "which is why I didn't buy the control rod."

"What, so he just gave it away, did he?" Alistair deadpanned.

"As a matter of fact, he did," Zevran confirmed to their surprise. "He seemed quite eager to get rid of it, too, as he seemed to think the recent string of bad luck he had been having was due to the control rod, so naturally I agreed to take it with me and-"

"Wait," Morrigan interrupted. "Why would you willingly bring along something with such a reputation and not much value?"

"We Antivans are not a superstitious lot," Zevran claimed. "I don't remember if this is the town or not but how many inactive golems can there possibly be in Ferelden?"

"Are you going to activate it?" Aunn asked.

"I would," Zevran told her, "but I never actually expected to run into the golem my rod controls and so I am afraid that the command phrase has slipped my mind."

"Perfect. Still, maybe someone in the village knows," Aunn suggested. "Since we're here anyway we might as well see if we can get a golem out of our trip."

"And we can check for survivors as well," Leliana added. "It would just be too depressing if everyone who had not managed to flee was killed."

They split up to search for anyone left alive in the village – and in some of their cases to grab anything that looked valuable – for about fifteen minutes before Genitivi gave a shout and they followed his voice to a cellar that was crawling with darkspawn. He didn't know if anyone was left alive down there but they could hardly just ignore their monstrous opponents.

Upon fighting their way through the underground passage, they eventually arrived at a group of darkspawn trying to get through some sort of bright purple barrier while a few frightened-looking humans looked on silently from behind it.

"Reinforcements?" one of them blurted the moment he saw them. "Thank the Maker!"

Oh, yes, thank the ever-absent Maker for them showing up in time to be of use. Aunn really didn't like the Andrastian cult. The darkspawn quickly barreled towards them but, while it was a little restricting to be fighting in a room full of furniture like this one, the darkspawn posed no real challenge.

Once the last of them fell, the barrier fell.

"Is it safe up there?" one of the people asked, shooting an uncertain look at the path out.

"It should be," Aunn replied. "We killed all the darkspawn we encountered."

That seemed to be enough for the villagers and all but one left.

"I can't thank you enough for arriving when you did," the one remaining man, a tall human with blond hair, said. "Sure we had the barrier but I have no idea how long that would have lasted and we had no supplies anyway so we couldn't have stayed behind ti forever. I was beginning to think that no one even knew that we were under attack."

"We didn't know," Genitivi told him. "We were just passing through on our way to Denerim but when we saw your plight we had to do what we could."

"Then I am grateful that your path led you here," the man told them. "My name is Matthias and you may very well have stopped Honnleath from ending up like Lothering."

"Lothering?" Alistair repeated, looking concerned. "Did something happen to Lothering?"

Matthias blinked in surprise. "You don't know? I thought everybody knew. It's all anybody's been able to talk about for days."

"We've been travelling," Wynne explained. "And we didn't encounter many people."

"The darkspawn came and took the town," Matthias informed them solemnly. "They knew it was coming, of course, but I heard they hadn't even finished evacuating yet."

Leliana shuddered. "That is horrible! Those poor people…"

Sten's eyes were narrowed slightly. Aunn supposed that meant that he was a little disturbed by the thought that if they hadn't broken him out of his cage and convinced him to come with them then he'd be dead by now, slaughtered ingloriously by the darkspawn as they swarmed over everything. For that matter, if she hadn't allowed Leliana to tag along then she might very well be dead now, too. That was a little unsettling.

"I don't want to seem ungrateful or impose too much upon you but…I have a daughter, Amalia. She's all I've had since my wife died and when the darkspawn first came she panicked and instead of getting behind the barrier she ran into my father's workshop," Mathias explained.

"And you cannot go in after her yourself?" Morrigan asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I would," Matthias assured her. "But…my father was a mage. One of the other men tried to go in after her and he was incinerated with a few seconds of stepping foot down that hallway," he gestured towards a door presumably leading to the workshop, "and I have no idea how Amalia managed to make it past the defenses. I am no fighter but I hope that you will be able to find my daughter and bring her back here safely. I am not a rich man but surely there is something I can do to repay you."

"About the golem out front," Zevran spoke up. "We have what we believe to be the control rod. Do you know anything about how to work it?"

Matthias blinked. "Shale? That thing killed my father," he said angrily. "That's why my mother got rid of the control rod. Still…I do know how to activate it. If you save my daughter I will tell you how but please make sure to quickly get it out of Honnleath. We've had enough destruction."

"Agreed," Aunn said. "Now tell us everything you know about your father's work."



Aunn leaned against the wall as she eyed Amalia and her clearly possessed cat. If it weren't for the fact that Matthias was clearly a very caring father that was willing to try and force the hand of several heavily-armed and potentially ruthless people to save his daughter instead of leaving her to die for the sake of convenience then she couldn't honestly say that she'd be bothering with this whole situation. Yes, Amalia was just a child but she also was old enough to know that talking animals with glowing eyes was at least an unusual situation if not an outright dangerous one. Not to mention that she had been standing right there when the demon started talking about possessing the girl…perhaps the demon was using some sort of magic to enthrall her? It was really the only excuse Amalia had for not noticing that something was up. And she wouldn't stop prattling on to the demon, either. The demon didn't seem to mind or else it probably would have just possessed her by now.

She glanced over at Leliana and Wynne who were attempting to solve the ridiculous flame puzzle to free the demon so as to somehow free the girl. Well, they probably had a plan so she'd just have to trust them. Aunn was really not a fan of complicated puzzles like these and, while she was sure that she could solve it, was all too happy to let someone else handle it.

Alistair, who had been arguing with Morrigan, broke away and came to stand over by her. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" he whispered.

"Not exactly," Aunn answered in a low voice. "But if she won't leave then we can either convince Sten to force her or try this. That demon could possess her at any moment so we've got to be careful and once it's free there may be an opportunity to get her out of here while it's distracted."

"And if there isn't?" Alistair demanded, raising his voice a little. Aunn shot him a pointed look. "Right, sorry," he said, his tone quiet enough not to be overheard again. "What if we just let loose a demon possessing that little girl into the world? Can you really live with that?"

"If we have to we'll take care of it," Aunn told him firmly. "And we may be even less to be able to help while she's so suspicious. We'll just have to wait and see."

Alistair slumped against the wall. "I hate waiting."

"Doesn't everybody?" Aunn asked rhetorically. "But since we've got time…"

"I'm not going to like this, am I?" Alistair asked semi-rhetorically.

"Probably not but we can't just ignore the bronto in the room forever," Aunn said reasonably. "Why didn't you tell me that your father was King Maric?"

"You didn't ask?" Alistair said sheepishly.

Aunn raised an eyebrow. "Is that a question?"

"…No?" Another question.

"So, what? I was supposed to say, 'Hey Alistair, you know how I told you about how I was an exiled Princess and explained the reasons for this and we know about Morrigan's connection to Flemeth? Are there any pressing secrets that you might like to share with us? Particularly in concerns to royal parentage?'" Aunn asked skeptically.

Alistair sighed. "I guess not. I probably wouldn't have told you then either although I may have gotten so flustered you'd have been able to work it out."

That was probably true. He was getting pretty flustered right now, even. "So why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want you to know," Alistair told her hesitantly.

Aunn rolled her eyes. "I kind of worked that out for myself, thanks. Any particular reason for that? And if there is could you please specify?"

"It's just…" Alistair ran a hand through his hair. "All my life people have always treated me differently once they knew. I wasn't just Alistair anymore, I was 'Alistair the bastard prince.' Even Duncan treated me differently and he never let me get into anything dangerous."

Bastard…that was a human word, wasn't it? She had heard of it before and meant something about not having a father. Well, everyone had a father, of course, so it likely meant that someone didn't know whose theirs was. Alistair clearly did have a father whose name he knew, though, even if he were dead so there must be more to it than that. His mother had been a serving girl so they clearly weren't married. Could that have something to do with it? It actually reminded her a bit of the noble hunters back in Orzammar but if Alistair's existence was hidden away and treated like some sort of dirty little secret instead of celebrated then clearly there were differences. As far as she could tell, the most likely explanation, then, was that his father didn't claim him. That was a sad fate indeed although, given that his father was a King, definitely not the worst he could have done to him.

"Royalty is always treated differently," Aunn acknowledged. "And while I'm not entirely familiar with the concepts of bastards if you weren't formally acknowledged then that probably would have caused problems, too, but Alistair…I get that. I was born a princess and while it may be somewhat amusing to play at being a commoner I'm never going to be one, I'll always be an exiled princess. I've seen firsthand how coddled royalty can be and believe me, I've lived it."

Alistair snorted. "You? Coddled? I find that hard to believe."

"It wasn't my choice, I assure you," Aunn said dryly. "Remember how I told you I had never really seen a poor person before? That's coddling right there. And the day before my brother died, which was also the day before my first military commission, I wasn't permitted to walk to my own Proving – which I won – without an armed escort."

"What's a Proving?" Alistair wondered.

"It's ritualized fighting," Aunn explained. "It could be a tournament if it's held in someone's honor – like that was held in mine – and that makes it a Glory Proving or it could be between two people who are trying to settle some insult or offense and that would make it an Honor Proving. Glory Provings are never lethal although Honor Provings often are unless otherwise specified but they're still useful so a minor insult doesn't erupt in an all-out House war."

"I see. Well, I guess that if these insults happen a lot then it's a good idea to have an established way of dealing with it," Alistair mused. "But you said you couldn't walk somewhere you'd be fighting by yourself the day before you were going to be killing a lot of darkspawn? That…makes no sense."

"It makes less sense when you consider the fact that my older and younger brothers were allowed to wander around by themselves," Aunn replied wryly. "The official reason was so that because of the feast the merchants might harass me on my way there but I suspect that the real reason was because my father was worried I might actually talk to these people."

"And talking to merchants is bad?" Alistair didn't get it.

"It is when you're a princess in Orzammar," Aunn replied. "Those things just aren't done. Of course, I likely would have done it anyway and he knew that which is why I had the armed escort in the first place. Still, it didn't do me any favors in my campaign to get people to take me seriously as a fighter despite the fact I happen to be a woman…" She shook her head, hoping that what had happened to her hadn't hurt the cause. "But anyway, the point I was trying to make is that I've been incredibly sheltered for most of my life and rather resent it. Why would I do that to you?"

"I guess you wouldn't," Alistair admitted. "But I didn't want to take that chance. I could always change my mind and tell you later but I couldn't take the truth back once I'd told you."

"I suppose that that's understandable," Aunn decided at length. "Ancestors know I wasn't in any hurry to tell you that I didn't kill my brother. But now that all this is coming out into the open I've got to ask…is there anything else I should know? Either about you or about the Grey Wardens? Keep in mind that pretty much all that I know about the Wardens are that they are incredibly ruthless, will do anything to end the Blight, have all died upon defeating an Archdemon, used to have griffons, and are tainted by the Joining."

"Oh. So you wouldn't know that the taint only gives you thirty years or so to live and then it overwhelms you and you go seek an honorable death in the Deep Roads," Alistair told her, surprised. "We call it the Calling."

Aunn blinked. "No, I did not know that. Let's see, that would put me at 53 or so when this happened. That's three years older than my father and he's pretty old. Alright, anything else?"

"You're…not upset about this?" Alistair could hardly believe it. "When I first found out I wouldn't talk to Duncan for a week." He looked a little sad at the mention of his fallen mentor but much better than the last time they had spoken of him. It was proof of healing, Aunn supposed.

"Why would I be upset?" Aunn asked him. "I'll be in my fifties and that's plenty old enough. Add that to the fact that I'm supposed to be dead right now, the fact that many, many people die before they reach fifty – like my brother who was only half that age – and the fact that fighting darkspawn is a little, you know, dangerous then, taint or no taint, there's no guarantee I'll even make it to my Calling. Still, it would be nice to die in Orzammar…"

"Well, if you're sure," Alistair still looked a little uncertain about how well she was taking the news but wasn't about to press her and possibly provoke a stronger reaction. "From what I could tell, the taint really messes with your ability to have children. All of the Grey Wardens I knew who had children had them prior to the Joining but Duncan told me that he's seen a Grey Warden have a child and that the child was perfectly normal. This was incredibly unexpected, though, and everyone thought it was a miracle so if you want children it is possible but highly unlikely. Along the same line of thought, if you want children with another Grey Warden then the combined incredibly decreased fertility could make it impossible."

Aunn's eyes widened. "So…in all likelihood, I'll never be a mother?"

Alistair reluctantly nodded, looking pained. "I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for?" Aunn asked, delighted. "I'm never going to have to have a baby! This is great news! You have no idea how happy this makes me, Alistair."

"No, I don't," Alistair agreed. "Most people would think of this as a bad thing, you know."

"Probably," Aunn shrugged. "But I'm not really very big on children and having a baby could very well ruin my ability to fight. I just can't stand the thought of pregnancy, either, but my people are facing a population crisis – well, at least the nobles and warriors are – and so it probably would have been my duty to have children at some point. But now I don't have to because I can't! And that will probably lessen my need to have a political marriage, as well, as I won't be having any kids and if he were going to go to a noble hunter for his heirs then he wouldn't need me."

"You wouldn't really need to do that anyway since you've been exiled," Alistair reminded her.

Aunn, predictably, glared at him for bringing that up. It wasn't like she didn't dwell on it far too much on her own as it was and she really didn't need him to help keep that at the forefront of her mind. "For now, yes, although we're returning to Orzammar and who even knows what will happen then or in the future. This whole infertility thing will be forever."

"I see that you're happy," Alistair said, nonplussed.

"And I see that you're confused," Aunn replied. "It's not really very important so don't worry about it. Is that everything?"

"I think so," Alistair told her. "And if it turns out that it isn't then it's just a case of me forgetting. I'm not actively trying to keep secrets."

"I'm going to hold you to that," Aunn replied, biting her lip. She glanced over at Leliana who had just accidently managed to set the bottom of Wynne's robe on fire. It looked like they'd still be awhile before they finished the inane puzzle. "Alistair…I've got something I need to ask you."

"What?" Alistair asked, taking in how serious his fellow Warden looked and, oddly enough, how nervous.

"What Trian said…I know it wasn't really him but I'm starting to think that he was right. Even if I can't forgive my father I should probably here what he has to say about the matter," Aunn said slowly.

"So you want to read his letter?" Alistair asked, reaching into his pack and feeling around for a bit before he located it and pulled it out.

Aunn didn't touch it. "I can't guarantee that I won't destroy it once I've read it or even before I get done with it and I may regret that so, if it's alright with you, could you read it to me?"

Alistair nodded solemnly. "Of course." He unfolded the paper in his hands and hoped that this note wouldn't make things worse. " '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.'"
Aunn didn't move. The problem with having someone else read her father's letter to her was that while it did ensure that she didn't destroy it – like she was very tempted to do right now – but it also meant that she couldn't deal with this in private. Still, she had known that when she'd asked and so she would simply have to deal with the results.

"That…" Alistair trailed off, shaking his head in disbelief. "He knew you were innocent this whole time?"

"Apparently," Aunn said hollowly. That felt like a betrayal. It was bad enough when she believed that he had thought her guilty because, had things been different, she might have been. And even if she had been the type of person to who was naïve enough to never even remotely consider harming a family member, as grief-stricken as her father was it was understandable that he wouldn't immediately pick up on that and it wasn't like Bhelen had allowed him enough time to really absorb what was happening and change his mind. It hurt that he wouldn't believe her but she could understandit. More than that, she could accept it.

This…He knew. He knew that she was innocent. Even had she actually been guilty this note would still hit her hard with his professed belief in her innocence right before confessing this was just to avoid looking bad. Her father, one of the only two people she had ever really trusted, had betrayed her. It made her barely-concealed anger and pain at Gorim's marriage seem petty given that he, at least, was still on her side and would never even dream of doing something like this.

This letter was closer than she'd expected to get for an apology and yet she found that it simply didn't matter. He was her father and he was supposed to love her and he let her be killed for the sake of avoiding and sodding scandal. What was she supposed to do with that information? Why had he told her that? Why not say something about how almost the moment she had been cast out he had realized his mistake, that he hadn't been thinking clearly? It might not have actually been true but since that clearly wasn't important to anyone then it didn't even matter. Was the fact that he claimed to regret his decision, was the fact that according to Gorim that regret was killing him supposed to make up for that? He had no way of knowing that she still lived and it was really no thanks to him. She might very well be dead now but at least this scandal was swept under the rug and it had only cost him two of his children.

He gave her a shield, he gave her a death sentence. He gave her an apology of sorts, he gave her this terrible truth. I have seen what Bhelen is. He wrote that he had realized that he'd made the wrong choice once he realized some great truth about his youngest son. Since sacrificing her wouldn't change much in her father's lifetime but would influence the succession once he died and Bhelen was his only eligible child then he had basically gotten rid of her for her brother's sake. That was rather ironic given all the times in the past he had chosen her over him although she could bet that Bhelen, at least, was pleased. No matter how it had come to be, Trian's death and her exile would only benefit Bhelen politically and he had to have seen that the minute he had arrived to find her still at the scene of the crime.

Aunn knew that her father had allowed Bhelen to have her killed so as to make sure his chances to become King weren't jeopardized. I have seen what Bhelen is. What did he mean by that? The obvious answer, of course, was that he finally realized who was actually responsible for Trian's death and consequentially framing her and was horrified at what he had done to her for the sake of the actual guilty party. It was a nice theory, neat and tragic, but it felt off. Her father was no fool no matter what his letter may have claimed. If Trian were dead then she would benefit. If Trian were dead and she were blamed then Bhelen would benefit. Lord Harrowmont had already connected the dots before she had even been exiled so there was no way he was blind to the possibility. No, he knew all right.

Her father knew that Bhelen had killed Trian and framed her and he had allowed it to happen so that Bhelen could be his new, better heir. I have seen what Bhelen is. He already knew that his living son was fratricidal and that, while it may have bothered him, wasn't enough to disqualify him as heir material so what was? Bhelen had remained beneath the notice of nearly everyone for most of his life. Aunn knew that he was progressive, of course, although that had been gleaned after an entire afternoon of pestering him and he hadn't given that up easily. Chances were that her father hadn't known what his politics were like and had he found out…their father was a deeply traditional man and had he realized how allergic Bhelen was to tradition then he would not be okay with it. It might even be enough to make him decide that he'd made a mistake in sacrificing her and supporting Bhelen.

It would never be enough for him to change his mind, however, and this letter had just made seeing either of her two living family members exponentially more awkward. With her father she'd know that he was fine with her dying – because as upset as he was he had still knowing let her become a scapegoat – and with her brother she'd have to know that he was now in the position Trian had always feared of undesirable heir. She was their father's 'only child' and yet he'd be getting the crown. There were days when Aunn wondered why, exactly, anyone had ever been jealous of her for being the favorite as it certainly never seemed to do her any favors.

At least Bhelen had only betrayed her once.

"I just can't believe he would do that to you," Alistair declared stubbornly, shaking his head. "Maybe he couldn't stop it but he didn't want to admit that."

"No," Aunn disagreed. "Admitting that he simply lacked the power to save me would be confessing to a weakness but it would come off a lot better than 'sorry, you are now a liability so I'm going to let you die.' He could have stopped it but he didn't."

"I'm sorry," Alistair said sincerely. "You deserve better than that."

"I'm glad someone thinks so," Aunn murmured.

Alistair looked like he was considering something before he nodded and started rooting through his bag again.

"Alistair?" Aunn asked, a little confused. "What are you doing?"

"I'm looking for something," he replied unhelpfully. "Ah, here it is!" Triumphantly, he pulled out that red plant he had found in Lothering and that Leliana had apparently based her vision on. "Do you know what this is?"

"A…rose, right?" Aunn asked, hoping that that was what it was called.

Alistair nodded. "I picked it in Lothering, if you'll remember. I probably should have just left it alone but I knew that the darkspawn would just come and destroy it if I did that so I couldn't."

"Make sure Leliana never finds out you picked her Maker-rose or she will not handle that well," Aunn warned.

Alistair grinned. "If anyone asks, I picked it in the Korcari Wilds. Either way, Aunn, I wanted to give this to you."

Aunn tilted her head. "You're giving me a plant? Do people do that?"

"People do things like that all the time," Alistair assured her. "But usually flowers, not just any old plant."

"Why?" Aunn still didn't get it.

Alistair looked a little awkwardly. "Well usually they do it as an expression of romantic interest-"

"Wait, what?" Aunn interrupted, her eyes wide. This was news to her and not good news. "Alistair, I…" she trailed off, not know what to say.

To her surprise and relief, Alistair chuckled. "Don't worry; you've made it more than clear how much I remind you of your brother."

"In looks, at least," Aunn amended.

"Normally it is for romantic purposes but that's not what I'm giving this to you for. You're my friend and you've really helped me out since Duncan and the others died. I was in a really bad place back when I first saw this and I remembered wondering how there could still be beauty in the world when so much had gone wrong and whenever I look at it it reminds me that there is still good in this world even if it's difficult to see. I know that our mission is pretty hopeless and that you've lost everything and so it's probably just as hard for you to see past that as it was for me and that's why I think you could use this a lot more than I could."

Aunn accepted the rose. "Well…thank you, then, for the flower. That's very sweet."

"There is still good in this world, Aunn, you just have to keep your eyes open," Alistair promised her earnestly.

Just then Leliana gave a triumphant cry and Aunn and Alistair glanced over to where she and Wynne had just finished solving Wilhelm's little puzzle.

"At last! I am free!" the demon purred, sounding delighted.

"Oh, I knew you could do it!" Amalia cried out excitedly. "Kitty and I are so very grateful."

"Yes, you have my thanks, mortals," the demon told them. "Now, if you'll excuse me-"

"I wouldn't be so quick to thank us yet, demon," Wynne said, drawing her staff. "We said we'd solve the puzzle not that you could keep that little girl."

"Treachery!" the demon screeched. "I will have the girl and there is nothing you can do about it!"

"Kitty?" at last Amalia displayed some sense of self-preservation. "You're scaring me!" With that, she took off down the hallway.

Aunn and Alistair exchanged a glance. A little girl trying to make her way through such a demon-infested passage? It was a miracle she'd managed it once and it would be foolish to just hope she could do it again.

"I'll go," she said, heading after the girl followed, strangely, by Zevran.

The two didn't actually meet any resistance on their way out which meant that Amalia hadn't encountered anything either – maybe they had killed them all on their way in – and they arrived back at Matthias just in time to see his daughter throw herself into his arms and start babbling about the demon.

"Wait, slow down, honey," Matthias instructed. "The cat was talking? What?"

"She met a demon," Aunn told him. "Your father had it trapped there and it had possessed a cat. It wanted to possess Amalia, too, but it needed to find a way to escape the room first."

"A demon," Matthias repeated, paling. "All this time, I never knew. And to think Amalia was in there with it…you're not hurt, are you?"

Amalia shook her head. "Kitty seemed really nice at first and we were playing but then she go all scary so I ran away."

"You did the right thing, Amalia," Matthias assured her. "Demons are evil and scary so you should stay away from them." He turned back to Aunn. "Is it dead?"

"Our companions are killing it as we speak," Zevran answered instead. "But since we have fulfilled our end of the bargain and delivered your daughter to you safely perhaps you can live up to your end?"

"My end?" Matthias asked blankly. "Oh, you mean the code! Very well. It is 'Dulef gar.' Please be careful with Shale, she's dangerous and she's already killed one master. I would hate to see anything happen to the heroes who have saved our village and rescued my daughter."

"We'll be careful," Aunn promised.

"I suggest we go see if the code word works or if I've got the wrong rod after all," Zevran suggested.

"But what about everyone else?" Aunn asked.

"They'll find us," Zevran said dismissively. "We're not that far away from Shale, after all."

The two were soon standing in front of the golem. Zevran took out his control rod and clearly enunciated," Dulef gar'." He waited but nothing happened. "Maybe it's the wrong golem…"

"It doesn't have to work instantaneously, does it?" Aunn pointed out. "And if nothing else we can wait here until they're done."

As she finished speaking, the golem began to shake.

"Well, I guess it won't be a very long wait at all," Zevran agreed.

"Who is it?" the golem asked in a gravelly voice.

"I am Zevran," Zevran introduced. "And this is Aunn. Are you Shale?"

"I am," Shale confirmed. "I take it that one of you has my control rod?"

"That would be me," Zevran confirmed, holding it up.

Shale took a step closer to it. "I feel…strange. Order me to do something, painted elf."

" 'Painted elf'?" Zevran repeated, considering his new nickname for a moment before shrugging. "I've had worse. Okay, how about...pick Aunn up."

Aunn shot him a withering glare. "I hate you so much right now."

"It was the first thing that popped into my head," he claimed.

"It is holding my control rod, it has given me an order, and yet I do not feel compelled to obey it," Shale pondered thoughtfully. "How very strange."

"Good," Aunn said emphatically. "Because that would not end well, trust me."

"So your control rod is not working?" Zevran surmised. "That is strange. Do you have any idea why that might be?"

"None," Shale said, shaking her head. "Although my previous master was a mage who conducted experiments on me so that might have something to do with it. How did it come by my control rod?"

"I obtained it from a passing merchant," Zevran explained.

"Was it very expensive?" Shale asked, trying to sound like she didn't care.

Zevran wasn't fooled for a minute. "Oh, very. I almost couldn't afford it but I could never pass up the opportunity to become acquainted with such a powerful creature as yourself."

"If she's been experimented on then is it quite safe to be around her?" Aunn wondered aloud. "I mean, having a malfunctioning control rod is one thing but how do we know what else the experiments will have done?"

"I assure it that I am quite safe," Shale told her. "Though I am curious as to why it is referring to me as a she?"

"Oh, well Shale sounds a lot like Shayle which is a dwarven female name," Aunn explained with a shrug. "So since you have no easily discernable gender as far as I can tell that's what struck me. Would you prefer I not do so?"

"I suppose that that is fine," Shale decided. "Why did the painted elf seek me out? I have nothing pressing to do, barely any memory, and wish only to leave this wretched place where I have been frozen for all of these years. I might follow it if it will be doing something interesting."

"I myself am following Aunn," Zevran answered. "And she is attempting to stop the Blight."

"A Blight?" Shale asked curiously. "The darkspawn are truly horrible creatures, almost as bad as birds. Very well, that is a more worthy cause then I was expecting and I will consent to follow you."

"Birds?" Zevran repeated.

"Yes, birds," Shale said firmly. "Vile, loathsome creatures who conspire to defile poor, innocent statuary…"

"If you truly don't remember your past then at some point – a long, long way into the future but still – we're going to Orzammar. That's where golems originated, you know, so perhaps the Shaper will be able to tell you more about yourself," Aunn suggested.

"That sounds like a plan," Shale agreed.

"You know," Zevran remarked wryly, "we're all exceedingly lucky that I only found you after joining up with Aunn."

"Why is that?" Shale asked disinterestedly.

Zevran smirked. "Because before then I was a Crow…"

Modifié par Sarah1281, 10 juillet 2010 - 04:00 .

[Sarah1281]

Chapter Fifteen: Alistair and Leliana Face Their Issues

Shale fit into the group easily enough. Alistair was worried that she might decide to crush them all – especially as the one with the defunct control rod was the assassin he was still half-convinced would try again – Morrigan appreciated the obvious strength the golem possessed, Zevran had had no shortage of jokes about control rods or references to himself being a former Crow, Sten respected Shale as a warrior, Trian seemed fine with her, Genitivi regularly annoyed Shale by proving himself the quintessential historian and not being able to help pestering her with all sorts of questions, Wynne had tried to reach the golem but one well-played accusation of slavery later had backed off, and Leliana had seized on Aunn's idea of Shale being a girl and had yet to give up trying to bond with her. Aunn herself appreciated the reminder of home although she wasn't about to actually tell anybody that.

Fortunately, before Shale snapped and attempted to kill them all (which really wouldn't have ended well no matter how it played out) they arrived back in Denerim and Genitivi insisted that they accompany him back to his house for some sort of reward for not only saving his life from the cultists at Haven and discovering the Urn of Sacred Ashes but for making sure he made it back safely which, due to his injuries, had been far from a guarantee. The others elected to wait outside while Aunn went in with Genitivi.

The minute they reached Genitivi's humble abode, he had looked around expectantly for Weylon and, upon remembering what had happened, his face had fallen and he had looked much less excited. Aunn couldn't blame him: this mad quest of his had not only cost him dearly but it had cost his friend as well. At least he had found what he was looking for so all of their suffering wouldn't be in vain.

"There's so much to do that I hardly even know where to begin," Genitivi marveled, his enthusiasm muted but not completely dampened but his friend's fate. "I must write to the Chantry, of course. They'll be skeptical, of course, but this is too great of a find for them to be able to ignore it completely. I'll probably have to wait until things settle down but then I'll be able to have my very own expedition! Soon, not only all of Ferelden but the whole of Thedas will learn the truth about Andraste's not-so-lost Ashes!"

Aunn really wished he would stop bringing that up as the more he did the more she was convinced that this was a really bad idea. She wondered if anyone would even bother looking into her own personal theory about the Ashes gaining their power from the lyrium veins in the mountain. They probably wouldn't as, unless there was a dwarf with them, they wouldn't even be able to tell that it was there and they had no reason to go looking. Not to mention that even should they discover this in the future and agree that the lyrium was involved they would no doubt spout some sort of nonsense about how their Maker placed the lyrium veins there to honor his beloved daughter-bride. Aunn really had to wonder, sometimes, just how these people managed to think so little about their own inescapable religion so as not to be bothered by these things.

"I was so excited when I discovered the location of Haven," Genitivi confided, looking a little wistful, "and even more so when Eirik told me he'd take me to the Urn. Then during my imprisonment it seemed like all of this was for nothing and that I had gotten so far only to be turned away at the gates but you…you've made this all possible, Aunn, and your companions and I honestly don't know how to thank you enough."

Such excessive and clearly heartfelt praise made Aunn a little uncomfortable, especially given how very little her actions actually meant to her. "I'm just glad that you're alright, Brother Genitivi. You're a great scholar willing to go places other people won't and it would be a great loss if anything were to happen to you."

"You're too kind," Genitivi said modestly. "As I said, I don't have much but I thought that perhaps this might be of interest to you. It's a Master Dweomer Rune."

As Aunn accepted the proffered rune, she blinked. "Dweomer? As in the ancient Tevinter name for dwarves? This is…thank you."

Genitivi chuckled lightly. "I thought you might like it. You've always been fascinated by history yourself, if I recall correctly."

Aunn shrugged. "Mostly dwarven history and not nearly to the extent that you are."

"I wasn't either, at you age," Genitivi told her. "Being a scholar sounded dreadfully dull. Of course, I've found that that's only if you're willing to stay with the Chantry your whole life. If you're amenable to traveling, as I am…well, let's just say that Haven wasn't the first scrape I've gotten into although I dare so it was the worst."

Genitivi was beginning to look a little anxiously towards the door and Aunn could take a hint so she smiled and said, "I hope this works out for you. You've certainly sacrificed enough for this. We really do have to go, though."

"I have much to do anyway," Genitivi replied, a little relieved. He looked a little downcast as he murmured, "Oh, how I wish Weylon was here to see this…"

Aunn, never very comfortable with other people's pain, was all too glad to get out of there.

"Now we're going to go to Wade's right?" Alistair asked.

"Indeed," Aunn nodded. "Zevran, if you want new armor then now's your chance."

"I might, it depends what they have," Zevran said vaguely. "You would truly not mind paying for it?"

"Of course not," Aunn replied easily. "If you die because you don't have adequate armor then that's going to be a lot more inconveniencing then if I had to pay a few dozen sovereigns now to protect you."

"I suppose I cannot argue with that," Zevran replied. "Lead on, then!"

Once they reached Wade's shop, Herron greeted them, looking rather peeved. "I hope you're happy," he said curtly. "Wade's been working obsessively on your armor and has only finished it this morning."

"Truly?" Wynne asked, surprised. "But we were gone for weeks!"

"I know," Herron said through gritted teeth.

Shale was peering closely at the beleaguered shopkeeper. "You remind me very much of a demon I once knew."

Herron blinked. "I…what?"

"Oh, never mind. Whether it is a demon or not it is of no concern to me," Shale said dismissively.

"I hear voices," Wade said, walking into the room. "Is that…oh, you're back!"

"I understand you've finished Sten's armor?" Aunn asked.

"Oh yes," Wade said, nodding eagerly. "The first set was a complete disaster, I'm afraid, but the second one is at least passable."

"You made two sets?" Alistair asked, surprised.

"Two sets is unnecessary," Sten opined. "But it will save time should the first set became irreparably damaged."

"I just feel like I've learned so much…" Wade said, sighing regretfully. "But there are no more scales to work with…"

"And thank the Maker for that small mercy," Herron muttered. "You'll be expected to pay for both sets, of course."

Wade suddenly brightened. "You've been off having more adventures, haven't you? I don't suppose you've come across any more drake scales?"

As it happened, they had. Still, Aunn didn't want drake-scale armor. "We managed to get the scales off of a high dragon," she said instead, reaching into her pack and pulling one of them out. "Will these do?"

"Let me see that…" Wade said, practically snatching the scale out of her hand. "Oh, this is simply marvelous! I never would have been able to work with such beautiful scales before this but after my experience with the drakes…yes, yes I think I will be able to."

If they had thought Herron's glare was intense before then it was nothing compared to the one he fixed on them now. "I hope bad things happen to you and everyone you know."

"Don't be like that, Herron, it should only take me a few hours," Wade assured him.

Herron practically fell over. "R-really?" he asked, sounding so hopeful it was ridiculous.

"What do you think I've been doing these past few weeks?" Wade asked rhetorically. "I know enough about what I'm doing by now that if five or six hours I should be done. What species would you like the armor crafted for? A qunari again?"

Aunn shook her head. "No, just me this time."

"Ah, dwarven armor," Wade mused as he headed back where he came from with the scales in hand. "That actually takes longer than non-dwarven armor because despite the height difference dwarves always want far more covered than most members of other species…"

"Alright," Herron relented. "This won't be as bad as I had initially feared so while I still wish bad things upon you, everyone you know can go on leading very charmed lives."

"Oh, I like this one," Zevran exclaimed, pointing to a very fine-looking suit of armor. Aunn might even go so far as to say that it was Orzammar approved but it was, naturally, completely too narrow for her.

"The Felon's Coat?" Herron asked, glancing over at what Zevran was pointing at. "Yes, that is one of our finest pieces and I can see why you'd want it. You can't have it, though."

"What?" Zevran looked disappointed. "Why not? Has it been promised to another?"

"Oh, nothing like that," Herron replied. "It's just that you've been keeping Wade so busy that nobody else can get anything made and we are losing money. It's so difficult to convince Wade to craft the orders as it is without going and exciting him with exotic material."

"So you would exacerbate your money problems by refusing paying customers?" Morrigan drawled, sounding a little bored. "Brilliant plan."

"I…fine," Herron grumbled, realizing she had a point. "But you can't have it until you've paid for not only that armor but also for both sets of the commissioned armor. I know you only asked for one and I would have preferred Wade only crafted one but, well, what can you do?"

"Fine," Aunn said, handing over more than enough sovereigns to stop Herron from complaining – at least for now. "Now, since it's not really necessary for us all wait here while Wade crafts my new armor I suggest that we all go our separate ways and see Denerim and meet back here in six hours."

"May I go with you?" Leliana asked immediately. "I've been meaning to talk to you."

"Me too," Alistair quickly added. "And, well, I've got a favor to ask."

Aunn shrugged. "Why not? As long as you don't mind waiting outside of hearing range while I go talk to a friend of mine then I'm sure that will work out just fine."

Trian, surprisingly, chose to wander off with Sten somewhere, as did Shale, but aside from that the others all went off on their own.

"Since you asked first, you might as well go first, then I'll go see Gorim, and then we can deal with Alistair's problem," Aunn announced as they meandered towards her desired destination. "Are you going to say anything you don't want Alistair to hear? If you are then I can just arrange to meet up at Wade's shop earlier then we planned and deal with whatever he needs to talk about then."

Leliana hesitated. "Well…if it were anyone else then I would think that that would be for the best but I suppose Alistair has proven himself a friend as well and he was already there for the confrontation with Marjolaine."

"I promise, Leliana, that I won't say anything to the others or think less of you for whatever you have to tell us," Alistair vowed.

Leliana nodded. "I know that, Alistair, I really do. I just want to keep the number of people that…" Leliana took a deep breath and tried again. "Who know that the Guardian was right about me to a bare minimum."

"You really did make up your vision just to gain attention?" Aunn inquired, more surprised that Leliana would actually confess this then to the vision being false in the first place. Perhaps seeing the Guardian and the supposed proof of Andrastiasm was enough to make her feel so guilty as to confess her deceit?

"What? No, not that!" Leliana exclaimed. "The other thing."

Aunn was drawing a blank so she waited for Alistair to helpfully supply, "You feel that you're slipping back into your bardic lifestyle?" He really was a decent replacement second, wasn't he?

Leliana nodded, not looking at them. "I am. It's just…two years. I thought she was just going to let it go or perhaps that she didn't know what happened to me. I was working all this time to become a better person and she thought that I was hatching some sort of elaborate scheme against her? Who even does things like that? And to what end?"

"Very disturbed, soulless people," Aunn replied as an image of her brother flashed before her eyes.

"She probably wanted to make sure that you wouldn't attack her since that's apparently what she would do," Alistair answered. "But you're better than that, Leliana."

"Am I?" Leliana asked, furrowing her brow. "I thought I was but…I was raised a bard. I know what it's like to slip so deeply into a role that you can scarcely find your way out. What if I just took it one step further and Leliana-the-penitent-Chantry-sister is just one more mask for me to hide behind? Marjolaine is cruel, self-serving and the epitome of ruthlessness but she also knows me better than anyone else does. What if she's right about me?"

"Marjolaine used to know you," Alistair agreed. "But no more. She hasn't seen you in over two years now and you have changed. How could the reports she received on you have possibly convinced her of that?"

But Leliana didn't appear to hear him. "I should have just stayed in the Chantry. She might have attacked me there eventually but I was a different person there, a better person. Out here I don't feel safe anymore. I'm afraid that I will become Marjolaine. Being a bard ruined her and it will ruin me, too."

"But you're not a bard anymore," Alistair pointed out. He hesitated. "Are you?"

"Of course not!" Leliana cried out. "But it may not matter. I rejoiced when Marjolaine died, you know. I shouldn't have been happy because I took a life and because she used to mean a great deal to me but I was. That is what she would have done."

"Maybe," Aunn allowed. "But you can't really fault yourself from removing a very real threat to you who had made it clear that she wasn't going to stop hunting you. You didn't break into her house and murder her in her sleep, Leliana; she came after you and she never would have stopped coming. It's only dwarven to be relieved that you no longer have to deal with her vengeful paranoia."

Leliana looked lost. "It's still not right and that's not all. What we're doing…what we've done – hunted men down, and killed them – part of me loves it. It invigorates me and this scares me. I…I feel myself slipping."

"Don't let Marjolaine tell you who to be, Leliana," Alistair said firmly. "You said that the Chantry changed you? Prove it. It's easy to be good there when you're surrounded by people who are trying just as hard to be worthy and to better themselves but out here in the real world? That's where the real test is."

"What do you enjoy?" Aunn asked. "The killing? It sounds to me like you're more interested in the more thrilling aspects of your job, the seduction."

"What does that matter?" Leliana demanded. "The hunting, the killing, the seduction…it's all the same. It's all part of being a bard and I thought – hoped, really – that it was behind me. I won't deny that there was something about the intrigue and the excitement that called to me but it destroyed my life and nearly killed me! I can't afford to be that girl anymore. I needed to change and I thought I had. Was I just fooling myself?"

"That depends," Alistair said slowly. "Your caution makes it clear that you're not planning on running off to be a bard again and, like Aunn said, you sound like you didn't enjoy the killing so much as the excitement. So you want to avoid boredom; that's hardly a crime. Right now you're using some of those same bard talents in order to help us stop the Blight or else you wouldn't be so worried about slipping, right? Tell me how that can possibly be a bad thing."
"I agree with Alistair," Aunn said, much to her surprise. This whole conversation was sounding far too much like the 'should I go back to politics in Orzammar or try to actually be a good person on the Surface' question she'd need to answer should a miracle occur and her legal status every work itself out. She'd need to become far fonder of the Surface than she currently was for it to even be a remotely difficult decision but who knew what the future would bring? "Don't punish yourself for doing something that you enjoy and nothing good ever comes from hiding who you are from yourself. If you don't want to get sucked back into the bardic lifestyle then don't and I highly recommend that you avoid Orlais. That's not to say that you should deny your past, however, for accepting your past is really the only way you'll ever be able to move forward."

"You both make good points," Leliana told them thoughtfully. "And you may even be right, I don't know. I'll have to think more about this. I do want to thank you both for being here for me and for listening. You're both true friends."

"Any time, Leliana," Alistair said warmly.

"Remember, we can't help if you don't say anything," Aunn told her, her tone mildly rebuking. "And you must have been carrying this around since we killed Marjolaine if not sooner. Next time don't wait this long, okay?"

"I won't," Leliana promised.

"Now," Aunn said as she spotted Gorim standing, to her relief, around where he'd been last time. "I hope you two have some way to occupy yourselves while I go handle this."

"Don't worry about us," Alistair told her. "We'll be fine. And standing way over here."

"Good," Aunn said before taking a steadying breath and approaching her former second.

Gorim's eyes widened in surprise when he saw her. "My lady? Is-is that really you?"

Aunn tilted her head. "Didn't we already have this conversation establishing that we were both alive?" she asked amused.

"I didn't think you would come back," he confessed quietly.

"I said that I would," Aunn reminded him.

"I know."

Aunn sighed. "So I guess you noticed that I ran away, huh?"

"It was hardly subtle," Gorim confirmed.

Aunn's eye twitched. "You don't have to be so quick to agree!"

"Would you rather I lie to you, my lady?" Gorim asked innocently.

"In this case yes, yes I would," Aunn replied.

"Don't be ridiculous, I'm sure you had other important things to attend to elsewhere and it was in no way telling that you left the minute the conversation got uncomfortable," Gorim said in a monotone.

Aunn snorted. "You're really not selling it, Gorim."

"My apologies," he deadpanned.

"I am sorry about…about that," Aunn said earnestly. "I just…needed time."

"I understand, my lady, don't worry," Gorim assured her. "Have you read your father's letter yet?"

Aunn made a face. "Unfortunately."

"I take it you didn't like the contents?"

"Hardly," Aunn admitted. "He told me that he had always thought I was innocent."

Unlike Alistair, Gorim knew exactly what that meant. "I'm sorry."

"I suppose I should have expected it," Aunn said quietly. "I mean, I knew how Orzammar worked. I guess I just wanted something, anything that wasn't tainted in some way. After all, that's how we ended up…" She trailed off and rubbed distractedly at her eye. "I've been thinking about that, you know."

"You have?" Gorim asked carefully, clearly hoping that she wasn't about to start in on him about his marriage.

"I'm not going to lie to you and tell you that I'm happy with how it ended," Aunn declared boldly. "You'd never believe me anyway and it would almost be insulting for me to expect you to. Then again, we did always know that it was going to have to end one day and so I doubt that I ever would have been happy at it no matter what the circumstances were. Well, unless I fell hopelessly in love with a nice noble boy but I'd like to think that I'm not that fickle."

"I don't see you doing that," Gorim said loyally.

"So like it or not sooner or later you would need to move on," Aunn continued reluctantly. "On the Surface there wouldn't be any societal pressure and yet…do you remember the last time I saw you in Orzammar?"

Gorim nodded. "How could I forget? I was afraid that that would be the last time that I'd ever see you."

"I wanted to call you back, you know," Aunn said, trying to keep her tone conversational. This wasn't easy for her to say but it was the truth and maybe it would even help him to understand why she did. "We might never see each other again, after all, and even if we did who knows how long it would take or what would have happened before then. You getting married, for instance."

"Why didn't you?" Gorim asked softly.

Aunn smiled self-deprecatingly. "Because I knew that people would find out. If nothing else, Bhelen would. I was more concerned with how it would look even though it no longer mattered than with getting to have a proper goodbye."

"I see," Gorim said, sounding a little disappointed but not particularly surprised.

"I've always been like that," Aunn continued. "It matters far too much to me what other people think and that's really not fair to you or to anyone else I might get involved with in the future. Not to mention…You're going to have a baby."

"I am," Gorim said, smiling slightly at the thought.

"You've always wanted children," Aunn remarked. "I never did. I don't really like them in the first place and you know my issues concerning pregnancy."

"I'm well aware, yes," Gorim said, sounding a little amused. That was actually one of the biggest reasons she wasn't interested in marrying a noble boy and since anyone else would lecture her on duty if she espoused her viewpoint on the matter, she'd often talked to him about it.

"I might have been willing to try and have a child or two if I loved the father enough or for House Aeducan but…I can't speak of the kind of mother I'd make since it would be a reluctant concession on my part. I wouldn't have wanted them and, unless seeing their face would make me all maternal, I can't really imagine that changing," Aunn said, shaking her head. "Things with us were always so complicated and they always would have been. Your marriage doesn't have to be, though. If you can be happy up here, with her, then so be it. You do deserve to be happy, you know."

"Thank you," Gorim told her sincerely. "When I saw you again and especially once you left so suddenly…I was worried that you'd hate me."

"Honestly, Gorim?" Aunn said tiredly. "I've just got so much to do right now and am carrying around far too much baggage as it is. I wouldn't even have the energy to stay angry with you if I wanted to."

"Do you want to?" he couldn't help but ask.

"A little," Aunn admitted. "But it will pass, don't worry. I'm not sure when I'll be in Denerim next but when that does happen then I'll probably have made more progress coming to terms with…everything then I have now. Ancestors know I've already made some progress since the last time that we saw each other."

"Where are you going?" Gorim asked her.

"Well, since Loghain decided to make the Grey Wardens scapegoats and the King's army died with him and the other Wardens, we're calling on the ancient treaties," Aunn explained.

Gorim started. "The treaties? You don't mean-"

Aunn nodded grimly. "I do. Sooner or later, I'm going to have to go back to Orzammar. It won't be pleasant, certainly, but the only other Grey Warden is far too naïve and idealistic to leave in charge of handling that. Still, it won't be for awhile as while we've got the mages on our side we still need to go find the Dalish and check on the man Alistair claims will be able to help us against Loghain. It will be a lot easier getting things done once we're no longer outlaws."

"So you're going to have to face them again," Gorim mused. "That should be fun. If nothing else you should give your brother a heart attack when you see him again. I do wonder if both of you will be able to survive your reunion, though."

Aunn laughed lightly. "And Alistair says he doesn't believe there is such a thing as inevitable accidental fratricide."

"Well he'll have to after you're done with Orzammar," Gorim told her.

"He's not actually allowed into the city so I guess he'll hear about it afterwards," Aunn said.

"Won't that mean that he'll never meet Bhelen and see the resemblance?" Gorim asked logically.

Aunn thought about that for a moment and realized that he was right. "Oh well, you can't have everything. And that might actually be more fun as the people who do go in and meet Bhelen can all back me up on how similar they look and he'll never be able to confirm it one way or another."

"So you're leaving already?" Gorim asked her. "You never seem to stay in one place for very long."

"Well like I said, there's a lot to do," Aunn reiterated. "We're pretty much single-handedly responsible for defending against the Blight Loghain doesn't appear to believe in and we have no idea how long we actually have to do this before the Archdemon appears and the darkspawn really start moving. Not to mention that, as fugitives, it's really dangerous to stay in the capital and so I'm trying to keep our time here to a minimum. I will make sure to stop by the next time I'm here, though, I promise."

"I'll hold you to that, my lady," Gorim said fondly as she walked away.

Alistair and Leliana were standing in front of a display of shoes arguing about whether practicality or style was more important for footwear when Aunn found them.

"Ah, good, you're here," Alistair said upon spotting her. "I told you how my mother was a serving girl at Redcliffe castle, right?"

"After the Guardian told us all about who your father was, you did," Aunn agreed.

"Well, I wasn't my mother's first child," Alistair said hesitantly.

"Oh, does this mean that you have an older brother or sister out there?" Leliana asked excitedly. "I am so happy for you! What are they like?"

"Her name is Goldanna," Alistair revealed nervously. "I've never met her but when I became a Grey Warden I decided to look her up. She doesn't live that far from here and I was hoping that you would go with me to meet her. I would go by myself but I'd probably talk myself out of it just like the last dozen or so times I've tried to go see her and I honestly don't have the slightest idea what to say to her."

"Wasn't Goldanna there in your Fade dream?" Aunn asked him. "How did you know what she looks like if you've never met her?"

Alistair coughed. "I almost met her the last time I was in Denerim. I saw her walking home and everything."

"So you followed her but didn't introduce yourself?" Leliana frowned disapprovingly. "That's just not right. If she doesn't know about you then she can't make a decision about whether or not she wants you in her life, you know."

"That's kind of what I'm afraid of," Alistair admitted. "I mean, why would she? Nothing good came from her being related to me and our mother died in childbirth."

"She won't blame you for that, Alistair," Leliana assured him. "It was a long time ago and she must be old enough and mature enough to see that you were just a baby and couldn't have helped her death."

"I hope you're right," Alistair said, looking like he very much doubted it.

"So where is her house, anyway?" Aunn inquired.

"Oh, right!" Alistair said, digging into his pack and pulling out a scrap of paper. "It shouldn't be that far from here," he said after examining it for a moment.

"Then lead on," Aunn invited.



Alistair stopped suddenly in front of a seemingly unremarkable house in a poor section of town. "This…this is it. This is Goldanna's house. I know it's right by the Alienage and everyone knows that that means she doesn't have much money but I guess since our mother died when she was so young that's hardly surprising. I know she has a few children and I think she remarried but that's really all I know about her. I don't even know what she does for a living," he said, sounding desolate.

"Well that's what we're going to try to find out, isn't it?" Leliana said cheerfully. "Don't worry, Alistair, it will go fine."

"The worst that could happen is that she won't want you in her life but while that might hurt, since you already aren't in it you won't have lost anything," Aunn added.

"That's true," Alistair said slowly. "I'm not even sure that she knows about me. I didn't until I became a Warden, after all, and I only found out by accident. My birth was a secret, after all, and so it's unlikely that she would have been told, particularly as she was just a child and our mother was dead. Still, the longer I put this off the more nervous I get so…"
Alistair took a deep breath and opened the door to Goldanna's house. As Aunn followed him and Leliana inside she wondered if the woman was even home or if they'd need to wait for awhile.

Alistair evidently wasn't comfortable just exploring the house until they found his supposed sister as he quickly called out, "Hello?"

His tentative call was enough to bring forth a tired-looking young woman with light red hair pulled slightly back from her face. "Eh? You have linens to wash? I charge three bits on the bundle, you won't find better. And don't trust what that Natalia woman tells you, either. She's foreign and she'll rob you blind." Aunn felt that perhaps her sales pitch would be more effective if she were friendlier but perhaps the price made up for the attitude.

"I suppose that answers the question of what she does for a living," Leliana declared.

Goldanna narrowed her eyes. "You came in here to see what I do for a living?"

"Not exactly," Alistair spoke up. "Goldanna…I'm your…you're my sister."

Whatever Goldanna had expected to hear, that was clearly not it. "I'm your sister, huh?" she asked skeptically. "How, exactly, do you figure that? If you're here looking for money then you're out of luck because I don't have anything to spare."

"What?" Alistair looked appalled. "No, no of course I'm not here for money! I just…a long time ago our mother was a servant at Redcliffe castle. Do you remember that? She-"

"You!" Goldanna cut him off with an angry, accusing finger pointed straight at him. "I knew it! They told me that you were dead! They said that the child was dead along with the mother, but I knew that they were lying! Why else wouldn't they let me see her?"

Alistair drew back, confused. "They told you I was dead? Then you did know about me. But who told you I died?"

"Them's up at the castle," Goldanna said, waving a hand dismissively. She apparently neither knew nor cared who, exactly, had lied to her, only that she had been lied to. "I told them that the baby was the King's and they just gave me a coin to shut my mouth. Had I pushed the issue of you still being alive I could have gotten so much more…"

"You've just found out that your little brother is alive after all and all you're concerned about is hush money that you might have been able to get years ago?" Leliana couldn't believe it.

Goldanna shot her a disdainful glance. "Oh, don't you judge me. My father had been dead for years and then my mother was gone. She hadn't been able to work towards the end of her pregnancy and they kept her out of sight so that people wouldn't know about the King's baby. I had nothing. They wanted me out of the way because I knew too much and that coin didn't last long. And then I was all alone with not a bit to my name. And now the bastard prince whose birth started it all shows up out of the blue claiming to be my brother? What am I supposed to do? Welcome him with open arms?"

"I'm not sure where you got the idea that I lived like a pampered little prince, Goldanna, because it's not true," Alistair swore. "My life was a lot less grand then that and my very existence is still in large part a secret."

"Oh, so you didn't live the life I think you do?" Goldanna asked mockingly. "Perhaps you weren't raised a prince but maybe you can answer a few questions for me, brother."

"I…" Alistair gulped, not liking the gleam in her eye. "Of course."

"Have you ever gone hungry?" Goldanna demanded.

"Have I ever what?" Alistair didn't see the point of the question. "What kind of a question is that?"

"Just answer it," she snapped.

"No, no I haven't," Alistair conceded. "But that hardly means that I'm spoiled! Many people don't go hungry, you know."

"I have," Goldanna revealed. "Have you ever been thrown out of your home and forced to live on the streets because you had no place else to go? Have you ever suddenly been solely responsible for the welfare of yourself and five other people because your husband drank himself to death? Have you ever had to work all hours of the night trying to make ends meet but knowing that no matter how hard you try it will never quite be enough? Have you ever had people who couldn't even begin to imagine what your life is like look down on you for being ignorant and foolish for having more children then you can afford and call you a **** because there was no father in the picture?"

Alistair didn't answer. He had no idea what to say.

"Well, have you?" she challenged.

"No," Alistair said at last, greatly disheartened. "No, I can't say that I have."

"I thought not," Goldanna said triumphantly. "You may not have been a prince but you've certainly had it better than I ever did and better than your nieces and nephews ever will."

Alistair bowed his head. "I'm sorry, I just…I just wanted to find my family."

"Well you've found it," Goldanna said bitterly, throwing her arms out dramatically. "Now what good will this do either of us?"

"I don't know," Alistair admitted. "I guess I wasn't thinking that far ahead. Still…I have some money. Not much but we can at least help out a little. Aunn, you're in charge of our finances. How much can we spare?"

Aunn considered the matter carefully. She wasn't entirely sure how much living in Ferelden really took, just that a meal apparently cost five silvers. She knew how much armor and weapons cost up here but something told her that that wasn't what Goldanna would buy no matter how much money she had. Once they'd paid for all the armor – which was definitely not cheap – they still had two hundred and eighteen sovereigns. They would likely get more soon, particularly if they kept pocketing everything they could find, but they might need money before then…

"We can spare fifty sovereigns at the moment," Aunn said grudgingly, fully aware that she was only even consenting to that much because of the devastated look Alistair was giving her. She took out a pouch of money and quickly counted out the sovereigns she'd promised.

"Fifty?" Goldanna looked taken aback though still slightly suspicious. "I…thank you. I did not expect such generosity."

"I promise you, Goldanna, that once I'm done stopping the Blight I'll do whatever it takes to make sure that you and my nieces and nephews are taken care of," Alistair promised.

"I'm sure you'll do your best," Goldanna said neutrally, likely not believing he could or would do as he said but not about to openly question him not two minutes after she had just received so much charity from him.

"We should probably go," Alistair said a little awkwardly. "I won't forget about you, Goldanna."

With that, he all but fled out into the street.

Leliana and Aunn exchanged a look before following him out.

Alistair was pacing outside of his sister's house. "Well that wasn't what I expected," he said suddenly. "Not at all."

"What were you expecting?" Aunn asked him.

"I'm not sure, exactly," Alistair replied, looking a little lost. "Maybe…maybe someone to accept me without question? Isn't that what family's supposed to do? I feel like such an idiot!"

Aunn coughed to hide the reflexive laughter she couldn't suppress at the very thought of having a family that accepted her without question. Maybe it was a Surface thing?

"You're not an idiot, Alistair!" Leliana told him firmly. "This first encounter may not have gone the way you hoped but she wasn't expecting to see you and so it was a kneejerk reaction. She probably lost her mother too young and if she really was all on her own…well, that's not easy for anybody, especially a child. When you see her again it may go better. You're the one who has to decide if it's going to be worth it to build up a relationship with her, knowing that it will likely be an uphill battle as she's still suspicious of you even after you gave her the money."

"Ah yes, the money," Alistair sighed. "If she truly is that badly off and I have five nieces and nephews then I suppose I don't regret giving it to her and I will keep my promise to make sure she's taken care of but…couldn't she even pretend to be happy to see me? It felt like she had no use for me besides what I could give her."

"Well, you don't know her," Aunn pointed out. "And it's probably better that she didn't act like she was thrilled to see you anyway."

Alistair frowned. "How do you figure?"

"Because if she was then you might have to wonder but since she was rather unpleasant then you can be fairly certain that she's being honest with you," Aunn explained. "And because she's seen that she can act like that and still get you to provide for her then if she ever does have a change of heart and start acting nicer then you should be able to trust it."

"I suppose that's true," Alistair admitted. "But I'd still rather that she just accepted me from the start instead of making me have to earn it."

"In a perfect world you wouldn't have to," Aunn told him. "But here in Thedas it's not like that. Life is difficult and you're going to find people who are out for themselves, no matter what their reasoning might be. You can't just expect people to hand you happiness, you know, you have to be willing to stand up for yourself and work for it."

"I think I have to agree with Aunn," Leliana piped up. "You have other people who care about you, Alistair, like the two of us. Just the same, we won't always be there and what if you'd have had to face Goldanna by yourself today? You need to be able to start doing what's best for you and not let people push you around."

"I suppose that's true," Alistair said glumly. "That's pretty much the exact opposite of everything I've ever been told my entire life, though, so I'm going to need some time to think about this, okay?"

"No problem," Leliana chirped. "I wanted to go look at the imported perfume anyway…"



Several long, boring hours later Aunn and Alistair dragged a not-even-close-to-being-done Leliana back to Wade's shop where everyone else was already waiting for them outside.

" 'Tis about time you showed up," Morrigan sniffed.

The crystals adorning Shale were now a deep red and Sten was holding a large box of cookies but Aunn decided she really didn't care to ask.

"You'll never believe it," Herron greeted them the moment they stepped inside the shop. "Wade has actually finished a customer order on time! I never would have believed it possible before today but there you have it!"

"Honestly, Herron, it's like you have no faith in me," Wade said ruefully. He was holding what was, perhaps, the nicest set of armor Aunn had ever seen and it looked like it was in her size as well.

As Aunn stepped up to inspect it, her eyes widened as she spotted a familiar symbol. "That…that's…"

"I hope you don't mind, your friend was quite insistent that I put it on," Wade said, nodding towards Zevran.

"I don't know the story behind your shield but that symbol seemed to be important to you," Zevran said with a shrug.

"Thank you," Aunn said, wondering just how returning to Orzammar with the shield of Aeducan and wearing armor with the Aeducan insignia on it would go down. Oh well, it would be quite awhile before she had to find out and Zevran was right: she really would appreciate this.

"Now thank you for all of your patronage and don't take this the wrong way but I never want to see any of you people ever again," Herron said pleasantly. "You'll put us out of business."

"Putting you out of business by purchasing items?" Sten asked, puzzled. "This country makes no sense."

"We could always crush his head," Shale suggested.

"Leaving is probably the better idea," Wynne said, gesturing towards the door.

Once they got outside, they found a brown haired man with a braid hanging down on either side of his face waiting for them. "You're not easy people to find," he announced. "Well, you weren't until I asked Sergeant Kylon. I'm not sure why he knows where fugitives from the law are but isn't doing anything but there you go."

"Can we help you?" Wynne asked.

"I certainly hope so. My name is Levi Dryden and I knew Duncan from way back when the order was first being allowed back into Ferelden. Did he ever mention me?" Levi asked hopefully.

Alistair scrunched up his forehead as he thought back. "I think so. You were the descendent of the last Ferelden Warden-Commander, weren't you? Sophia Dryden? And you wanted Duncan to go check out…something."

"The Grey Warden base at Soldier's Peak," Levi supplied. "My interest is in finding something to clear my great-grandmother's name as she's widely regarded as a traitor to the crown. I would have gone by myself but, well…whenever I try I'm always attacked by the walking corpses and so I decided to appeal to Duncan for help. He said he'd do it but there was the Blight to deal with and now he's dead. If you agree to aid me in reclaiming the base then you can use it for the Grey Wardens again, I'm only interested in the truth and in restoring honor to the blackened Dryden name."

Aunn and Alistair exchanged a look.

"We don't have time at present as we need to head to Redcliffe," Aunn told him. "But this certainly sounds like quite a find. If you'll let us know where the Keep is then when we find the time we'll make sure to go to Soldier's Peak and to let you know so you can accompany us if you wish."

"That's all I ask, Warden," Levi said gratefully. "I know that a Blight's coming so whenever you can spare a moment would be just fine." He took out a map and handed it to them before heading off.

"Not that I'm complaining or anything," Alistair began, "but I am quite honestly in shock that you actually are putting going to Redcliffe before doing whatever other meaningless side-trip occurred to you might be fun…"

Modifié par Sarah1281, 10 juillet 2010 - 08:24 .

[Sarah1281]

Chapter Sixteen: Zombie Apocalypses Are Never Fun

They were roughly half a mile from Redcliffe when Zevran approached her.

"I've a question, if I may," he began.

"Certainly," Aunn said agreeably. They were almost there, it was true, but walking did get dreadfully boring at times and so chances were that anything he might have to say would be a welcome distraction from the monotony.

"I cannot help but notice that you are wearing the new armor that Wade crafted you," Zevran said, nodding towards her officially-good-enough-to-return-home-to armor.

"It's an amazing piece," Aunn explained. "And I feel much more comfortable in it than in my old armor. Not to mention, of course, the fact that it's made from a dragon that I killed."

"You really can't overstate the impressiveness of that," Zevran remarked. "Most people haven't even seen a dragon, let alone killed one."

"There was actually a rumor that there was a dragon in the palace back home," Aunn said conversationally. "I don't think anyone really believed it, though."

"Oh?" Zevran raised an eyebrow. "A dragon in a palace and no one noticed? Do tell."

"It was just that there was an inscription on the throne," she explained. "It dates back from near the end of the Exalted Age. I don't remember all of it but it said something about not trusting the Surface and 'Three standing in position, a fourth signals the throne. Stasis for the beast, so long as a king holds the throne. So long as a king wills it held.' Naturally, this meant that there was a dragon. People do so enjoy their wild legends."

"We are travelling to Orzammar ourselves, are we not?" Zevran asked rhetorically. "I think I should like to look for this dragon."

"If we get a chance to wander about the palace, why not?" Aunn agreed easily. "Although I should warn you that when I was younger my brothers and I spent hours doing just that and we never found anything."

"It might be fun anyway," Zevran declared, undeterred. "Does it bother you that I convinced Wade to put your family's insignia on your armor? Alistair told me the sad tale of your departure from Orzammar but I didn't realize what that symbol meant until afterwards when he pointed it out. I just saw that it was clearly important to you."

"I was surprised, certainly," Aunn admitted. "But not upset, no. The Grey Wardens may not care about your past and offer you a chance to forget it but I'm not interested in that. Simply put, where I came from made me who I am today and I see no reason to pretend otherwise."

"Won't that cause problems once you return, though?" Zevran pressed.

Aunn shrugged. "My return will cause problems once I return. The armor and especially the shield? Well, I've always loved a good scandal. If the good deshyrs and the King have a problem with it then they shouldn't have exiled me and the opinions of anyone else won't affect getting our troops. Mind you, it may lessen the number of troops the different clans are willing to send but there were always going to be problems with that anyway. Maybe if I were a dwarf of warrior or noble caste who won a Proving and became a Grey Warden that way I'd meet with widespread adulation but even being a Surfacer would cause similar problems in Orzammar. Well, similar in that there would be problems at least even if the problems would be of a vastly different nature. Did that answer your question?"

"I believe so," Zevran replied. "I must confess that I've always been partial to a good scandal or two myself. It really adds excitement to life."

"I have a question for you, as well," Aunn told him. "I understand that an assassin is a very useful kind of person to have on your side and I'm not about to turn down any help at this point but you seemed awfully eager to get away from the Crows. I know you said that your life was forfeit since you've as of yet failed to kill me and I think I believe you but it seemed to be more than that. You don't have to answer, of course, but if I knew more about your defection then I would be able to trust it more."

"That's a fair question," Zevran said matter-of-factly, "and as it happens I don't mind answering it. You're right in thinking that part of my motivation is simple self-preservation. You seem a lot less set on my death than the Crows are and have shown yourself capable of handing a dragon of all things, my fellow assassins should pose no real challenge."

"So you wanted to leave but as their no failing policy likely also precludes simply quitting then you waited until you saw an opportunity to be able to escape semi-safely and took it," Aunn surmised.

Zevran nodded. "Indeed. Being an assassin is a living, certainly, and not a half-bad one if you've got any skill and I'm not exactly lacking in that department. It's more about…well, perhaps I should give you some background first. My mother was a Dalish, you see, but she fell in love with an Antivan woodcutter and returned to the city with him. He may have been my father but I am not positive as he soon died of some nasty city disease leaving my mother destitute. She turned to prostitution to survive and was my first victim in a way as she did not survive my birth."

Aunn blinked. "Why didn't she just go back to the Dalish?"

"I do not know," Zevran answered. "She died at my birth, remember, so I do not have any memories of her at all, much less any time for questions of the sort. Dalish clans are constant travelers and so perhaps she feared that she would not be able to find them. Perhaps she tried and failed to. Perhaps she feared that once she left them to go live among the shemlen she would not be welcomed back. I myself ran away from the Crows once to join the Dalish. They were not quite as welcoming or as impressive as I'd hoped. Perhaps it simply never occurred to her that she could go back and perhaps it is something entirely different but I'm afraid that I shall never know."

"We're going to have to find a Dalish clan for our treaties although aside from 'follow the rumors' we're not quite sure how," Aunn confided. "Will you be able to help us? You've found a clan once already."

"Mostly by following the rumors," Zevran said, sounding amused, "but yes, I will endeavor to help you locate them. Now, after my mother died I was raised in the ****house. It was a decent enough life although had I stayed there…suffice to say I was not all that put-out when I turned seven and the Crows bought me. They like their recruits with no other choices, you see, and they like them young. That makes them more malleable and there is more time to train them. The fact that I was elven was only a bonus as far as they were concerned given the widespread elf fetish humans have. I am told I went for three sovereigns which was far more than I was worth at the time given that I had no skills, was all skin and bones, and didn't even know how to hold a dagger properly."

"So you were a slave then?" Aunn asked, a little horrified. There were so many things in her life that she was, if not approving of, at least tolerant of that other people simply could not understand. Morality was…difficult at times. Orzammar could at least say that it didn't hold with slavery if only because the caste system eliminated the need to. It was actually more cost-effective to hire a casteless for a pittance than to be responsible for continually meeting someone's basic needs. So maybe there weren't really any moral qualms that the Assembly had when they disallowed slavery but at least it wasn't practiced. Besides, it was nice to be able to take the position of moral outrage for once. "That's awful!"

"Technically I still am as the Crows never released me," Zevran confirmed. "So I suppose this makes me a runaway. Like I said, it was better than what would have happened to me had I stayed with the ****s. The Crows training was…intense, but those that survived it were rightly proud to do so and some of the finest assassins available."

"Did you say 'survived'?" Aunn queried curiously.

Zevran nodded. "Yes, survived. Not everyone was quite up to the task, I'm afraid, but it was a rather effective, if callous, way to weed out the weaker recruits. It's not all bad; there are plenty of perks that come along with being a Crow. In Antiva, being a Crow gets you respect. It gets you money, women, men…basically, if something can be possessed then you can possess it. Does that bother you? My interest in men? I have heard that it is not done – or at least not openly – in Ferelden though I don't know how things are in Orzammar."

"We have population problems so it's also not talked about," Aunn said simply. "So it's really not a moral issue or anything. And as long as you don't cause too many problems by making Alistair uncomfortable with continuous blatant come-ons – which you could probably do without being attracted to men or even a man yourself and I think Morrigan was doing just that earlier – then I don't see why it should."

"Good to know," Zevran said brightly. "Now, the downside of all this luxury is that you will always be expendable no matter how good you are or how dedicated. Plus you can never leave. Being a Crow in Antiva is a gilded cage, perhaps, but it is still a cage. You asked me why I wanted to leave the Crows, well that is why. I wanted the opportunity to make my own choices for once instead of always having these things decided for me by others. Those are really thoughts for later, though, as for now I am still in danger of being attacked by the Crows and I have pledged myself to your service."

"There's nothing I can really do about potential Crow reprisals until they show themselves," Aunn said slowly, "but once the Blight is over I want you to know that you're free to do as you will."

"I appreciate it," Zevran told her, sounding sincere.

"Oh, thank the Maker!" an unfamiliar voice exclaimed.

Aunn's head turned towards the sound and saw a desperate-looking man with brown hair and a quiver full of arrows jogging towards them. He stopped at a bridge a few feet before he reached them and waited for them to reach him.

"You're happy to see us, I take it?" Aunn ventured once they had.

"I hope that I will be. Have you come to help us?" the man sounded so hopeful it was almost painful.

"We would love to help out if we can," Alistair spoke up. "Especially if it's as serious as I'm getting the impression that it is. What happened?"

That stopped the man cold. "You mean you don't know? How can you not have heard?"

"We know that Arl Eamon is sick," Aunn explained, taking care to keep the annoyance at the most likely unintentional implication that she was being ignorant out of her voice. "But there is a civil war going on and a Blight ravaging the land and so if you mean something besides the Arl's illness then it's hardly become common knowledge."

"I suppose that's fair," the man conceded. "And it would explain why nobody's come to help even though the Arl could be dead for all we know."

"Wait, dead?" Alistair asked, alarmed. "That doesn't sound good. Who are you? And what happened."

"My name is Tomas," Tomas introduced. "I'm nobody in particular, just a militia volunteer. Bann Teagan has been calling for volunteers, you know, to defend us against the attack."

"Bann Teagan?" Alistair perked up. "Arl Eamon's brother? What's he doing here?"

"He came back from Denerim to report on how the Teyrn made himself regent since the Arl was too ill to attend but before he could get into the castle these…monsters have been attacking. I'm not even sure what they are. They're almost like walking dead but I don't know where they came from or why. That's why everyone fears the Arl is dead because the corpses have to come from somewhere, right? Every night they come and every night they take more of us with them. Since every night there seems to be more of those creatures as well, I guess that's further proof that they're walking dead. I…it's gotten pretty bad here. I didn't think we'd be able to last another night. But you all look well-armed. Will you help us?"

"Of course we will," Alistair declared. "Could you take us to Bann Teagan? If he's in charge he should probably know that we're here."

"Right," Tomas nodded. "Follow me, then."

"Way to discuss an important decision like this with the rest of the group, Alistair," Aunn said quietly, rolling her eyes.

"What? It's not like you ever ask for our opinions if you want to, say, go off chasing legends," Alistair pointed out.

Aunn crossed her arms. "We likely saved Brother Genitivi's life and got each got a nice supply of a veritable panacea out of the deal. And assuming the Arl is even still alive, he may need it."

"So you keep saying," Alistair replied. "Besides, were you really about to let an entire village die because…actually, I'm not even sure why anyone would do that. Unless they were Loghain. He'd probably do it because he's evil."

As it happened, Aunn hadn't been planning to do that. After all, they had no treaty obliging the Arl or even this Bann Teagan to help them out and allowing their people to be slaughtered because she couldn't be bothered to stand and fight was hardly the best way to ask them for help against Loghain and, if they were lucky, troops to fight the Blight. "Well you'll never know now, will you?"

"If you were to decide to leave and managed to convince everyone else to just watch from nearby as these walking dead destroyed the town and returned in the morning to try to get into the castle then I'd still have to help them," Alistair declared. "I mean, how could I just stand back and watch an atrocity happen when I have the means to prevent it?"

Aunn didn't bother answering as they had reached the village. At first glance it looked a great deal like other villages she had seen and she quickly located the giant Chantry in the middle of the village. Upon closer look, though, she saw that the few people out and about looked scared and hopeless. There were a few men out practicing firing arrows into wooden posts but they all seemed on edge as well. If she hadn't already known that there was a problem with Redcliffe then this would have tipped her off right away.

They were, to Aunn's mild annoyance, led straight into the Chantry where a harried-looking man dressed in a fine brightly-colored outfit was talking seriously with an older woman in Chantry robes who Aunn could only assume was the local Revered Mother.

"…will have to do for now," the man said with an air of finality as he turned to the group approaching him. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Ah…Tomas, is it? Who are these people with you? I don't recognize any of them?"

"Not even me, Bann Teagan?" Alistair spoke up. "Then again, the last time we spoke I was a lot younger and covered in mud and the Maker knows I was a terror before then so I suppose I wouldn't blame you had you decided to just completely block it out of your mind."

" 'Covered in mud'?" Bann Teagan repeated, drawing a blank. His eyes widened in sudden realization and a smile lit up his face. Aunn had to admit that he was rather good-looking and given that this was a human that was really saying something. "Alistair! I can't believe…we were told that all of the Wardens died at Ostagar! Then again, I suppose that that's hardly the first of Loghain's lies about that day."

"By all rights I should be dead," Alistair said grimly. "As should my fellow Warden, Aunn. We were lucky enough to survive, though, when all the other Wardens died. What has Loghain been saying? We were in Denerim ourselves recently and so heard the rumors but nothing firsthand."

Teagan snorted. "What hasn't our esteemed regent been saying? He'd have us all believe that the Grey Wardens were sent here from Orlais twenty years ago to undermine Ferelden from within and return the land to Orlesian control so they goaded my nephew Cailan, already not taking this serious enough and trying to let the chevaliers kill us all through his naivety, into risking everything for a shot at foolish glory. Oh, and the beacon that was supposed to be lit by the Grey Wardens even though he wanted to send his own men wasn't lit until it was far too late to salvage anything more but the troops that hadn't entered the fray."

"I'm adding three reasons for that which brings us up to eight," Alistair announced. Seeing Teagan's confused look, he elaborated, "I'm keeping track of my reasons to hate Loghain."

"That's hardly true," Aunn objected. "I was at that last strategy meeting before the battle. King Cailan did want to find glory but he also wanted to protect his people and felt ending things there would have been the best way to do it and I daresay that had he succeeded then he would have been right. He was insistent that the Ferelden arguments with the Orlesians were a thing of the past and I don't know enough about Ferelden foreign policy to judge the merits of that but he wasn't just letting them tour the country but rather attempting to enlist their aid in crushing the darkspawn hoard."

"Loghain never has been willing to see the Orlesians as anything more than monsters," Teagan told them. "Given that he lived through the worst of the occupation and was a key figure in the rebellion towards the end, I suppose I can't blame him. Still, I am glad to hear the confirmation of Loghain's falsehoods. Was there anything else?"

"Well, Duncan hardly goaded him. He actually wanted to wait for reinforcements, I think, and mentioned that Redcliffe soldiers could quickly get to Ostagar but King Cailan didn't want to risk waiting," Aunn said, thinking back. "Oh, and the only reason we had to light the beacon was because the Revered Mother on hand put her foot down when the mages were supposed to do it even though had the Tower been crawling with as much darkspawn as were there when we tried to get to the top they probably could have lit it from the bottom of the Tower. I think Cailan was trying to keep Alistair alive, personally, since he was so insistent that he stay where it was supposed to be safe."

Teagan drew back. "You know about…?" He looked questioningly at Alistair.

"I would have had to have mentioned it before coming here unless it came up," Alistair said defensively. "But as it happens, I didn't. Some…spirit guardian thingy did."

"I suppose it can't be helped and it doesn't even matter anymore since my sister and nephew are both dead," Teagan said with a sigh. "I do hope that you all are willing to help us. I only arrived a few days ago myself but the monstrous walking corpses are decimating this village. Should we survive the night, I might be able to attempt to enter the castle tomorrow but things aren't looking good. This is a peaceful village not built for withstanding these constant attacks and morale is bleak. If you don't help then I'm honestly not sure that we can last the night."

"What do you need us to do?" Aunn asked.

"Besides stand and fight?" Teagan asked wryly. "Murdock would probably know more. He's the mayor of the village and you can't miss him. He's the one watching over the archery training. May the Maker watch over you. Tomas, go tell Murdock about the Wardens, if you please."

Tomas nodded. "Right away," he said as he hurried out of the Chantry.

As their group turned to go at a much more casual pace, Morrigan hissed, "Must we really get involved with this? If these fools cannot protect themselves then they do not deserve to make it through the night."

"Indeed," Sten agreed. "What is the point of this? It will not help us stop the Blight."

"What is the point is that we are not being heartless," Wynne said earnestly. "Surely there isn't much worse than leaving those who cannot protect themselves to die when you can stop it."

"What are the odds that we arrived just when Redcliffe needed us most?" Leliana questioned. "We might have easily come and been on our way before problems arose or not made it here until the village fell. I sense the Maker's hand in this."

"Your Maker can keep out of my life, thank you," Morrigan said sourly. "And why does everyone keep talking about their Maker's involvement in things if they also believe that he has abandoned this world? It makes no sense."

"I don't know, Morrigan, but I do know that we need to enlist Arl Eamon's aid and he is much more likely to acquiesce to our requests if we don't just sit back and watch his village die," Aunn pointed out.

"No, people tend to have issues with that," Alistair muttered.

"And he is needed because this Loghain will not admit to the Blight he's already seen?" Sten asked. "This is foolish."

Aunn shrugged. "Perhaps but not liking our situation isn't really going to change it."

"I suppose that having a noble's gratitude could prove useful," Morrigan conceded. "I wish it did not seem to require protecting fools, however."

"It is not worried that it or its companions will perish?" Shale asked. "It is ever so squishy."

"If we can't handle a few walking corpses, what chance will we stand against the Archdemon?" Aunn countered smoothly. "And you weren't here but we did manage to take down a dragon easily enough. Besides, now that we've got you what could possibly go wrong?"

"Well, when it puts it that way…" Shale trailed off, obviously flattered.

"Oh, what's wrong?" Leliana asked suddenly, stopping to talk to a young woman who was sobbing loudly.

"I…I'm sorry, I shouldn't disturb you," the girl attempted to apologize through her tears. "I'll try to keep it down."

"Don't be like that," Leliana urged. "I would like to help, if I can." Ah yes, Leliana was clearly in so much danger of turning out like the woman who had had Leliana imprisoned and tortured for discovering treason that she herself was committing.

"Well…alright," the girl agreed. "My name is Kaitlyn and my mother…she was dragged off by those horrible things last night! I can still hear her screaming…I know that she's gone but my little brother Bevin doesn't get it. He said something about trying to find her and then he ran off! I looked in our house by the square and all around the village but I can't find him and I'm afraid that he may have tried to get into the castle and…and…I'm all he has left and he's all I have left and I don't want my little brother to die too!"

Not only was Leliana clearly in favor of helping this girl and it was a great opportunity to score some points with the villagers by doing something helpful but Aunn found that, as was starting to become a pattern, someone genuinely and deeply concerned about a family member – and it was even a brother in this case! – moved her and made her actually want to help. Sod it all, this could prove to be a liability. "Tell us where your house is and we'll go look for him," she said kindly.

"Would you?" the girl's voice lost some of its hopelessness. "I couldn't possibly repay you…" Nonetheless, she quickly described in greater detail how to reach her house from the Chantry.

"We will bring him back to you," Wynne promised as they took their leave of the grieving girl.

Outside, Aunn quickly spotted a weary-looking man standing a few feet away from where the archers were practicing just as Teagan had described. That must be Murdock.

"So you two are the Grey Wardens, huh?" Murdock said in a gravelly voice. "I heard that they all died with the King. And I didn't even know that they made female Wardens. Then again, I'm hardly an expert on Grey Wardens. A damned qunari could come up to me claiming to be one and I wouldn't know the difference."

"That much is clear," Sten said dryly.

"Ancestors willing, you'll see how capable I am tonight," Aunn said, pointedly not acknowledging his sexist remark. It was the same with some families back in Orzammar although she had never heard it directed at her for even the most traditional of families had better sense than to risk insulting her. Although it was a little strange that Harrowmont, traditional as he was, had never seemed to take issue with her fighting. "Now, Bann Teagan suggested that we ask you about what needs to be done before sunset."

"Too much," Murdock grumbled. "Morale is about as low as it can get. That bastard Lloyd up at the tavern is charging double for ale, our sole blacksmith has barricaded himself in his home because we can't storm the castle to look for his daughter and the men's armor is practically falling apart, and the one veteran everyone knows, Dwyn, refuses to fight. Fool seems to think that he'll be safe locked inside his house with his men if these monsters kill us all. He's a dwarf, too, so maybe he'll listen to you."

"It's worth a try," Aunn agreed. "Was that everything?"

"If you were to somehow find any more men for the militia it would be much appreciated but…yes, those are our main problems," Murdock told her before turning away to yell at a recruit who had just nearly him with an arrow.

"Alright," Aunn said, clapping her hands together. "There are nine of us and we need to go find this Dwyn, deal with the blacksmith, investigate the tavern, and look for Kaitlyn's brother so I suggest we split up. I'll go look talk to Dwyn with Sten, Trian, Wynne, and Morrigan can go find Bevin, Zevran and Alistair can deal with the tavern, and Shale and Leliana can try to deal with the blacksmith. And should anyone find someone who could fight but isn't, try and do what it takes to convince them. Let's all meet back in front of the Chantry when we're finished. "

None of the things on their to-do-list seemed particularly urgent although the sooner the blacksmith came around the better things would go for the militia since he'd have more time to work. If anyone failed, someone else could always give it a try. Since Aunn knew nothing about this Dwyn then for all she knew he might care about the shared species and Sten was the only true warrior she had with her besides Trian. Trian with his heightened sense of smell might be able to ferret out the child's location, Wynne would hopefully be able to convince the boy to return to his sister, and Morrigan seemed like she could do the least amount of damage if she decided to be uncooperative there. Zevran had an air of charm and persuasion about him that would most likely be helpful in dealing with the tavern and Alistair was there to be the responsible one in case he got carried away. Leliana was one of the more sympathetic people travelling with Aunn and so chances were that she'd be able to properly sympathize with the blacksmith and Shale…well, Shale was the only one unassigned and Leliana needed a partner as everyone else had one.

Alistair shot Zevran a nervous look, Wynne pursed her lips in displeasure, and Morrigan glowered at the elder mage but no one said anything about the groupings. Aunn stopped someone and got directions to Dwyn's house before she and Sten took off in search of the renegade veteran.

Dwyn, it seemed, lived by the lake. It was a little odd to think that just on the other side of that lake was the Circle Tower but there it was. If it hadn't been for Aunn's need to see Gorim in person to believe that he was still alive they could have done the sensible thing and gone here right after. Ah, well. Nothing could be done about that now.

Sten tried the handle. "It's locked."

"Not for long it is," Aunn said determinedly, pulling out a pin and getting to work. Sure enough, in roughly half a minute the door swung open and the pair made their way into the house.

Two human bodyguards stepped immediately in front of Dwyn when they spotted the two enter. Dwyn appeared to be middle-aged with dark circles under his eyes and Bhelen's style of beard in a dark brown color. That resemblance irked her slightly but she'd put up with Alistair's resemblance to Bhelen for months now and so there was really no need to let it get to her. This Dwyn was scowling at her which wasn't the most promising way to ask for help – or rather last-minute military service in the middle of an attack by reanimated corpses – but to be fair she had just broken into his house which tended to make people a little peeved. Breaking into her childhood home was considered treason.

"I might as well just leave the door open if it's not going to stop people from getting in," Dwyn said, annoyed.

"It certainly would have saved me a good half a minute," Aunn said pleasantly. "But really, is that any way to greet a fellow dwarf?"

Dwyn gave her the once-over. "You've a highborn look about you. You were expecting some bowing and scraping, maybe?"

He likely wouldn't have thought that – or would have thought it less, she supposed, as it really wasn't that bad if she were being objective – had she shown up before receiving her incredible new armor. That kind of a remark annoyed her, to be honest. Back in Orzammar people were always quietly blaming her for things she had had no part in. The commons had been in disarray for days as the street was hand-cleaned by servants? She hadn't even known about it until she'd asked why everything was so bright and shiny. Did anyone care, though? No, it was vaguely related to her and thus it was her fault. Why did this Dwyn have to make the fact that she wanted to make an effort to look presentable – which didn't hurt or even inconvenience him in any way, shape, or form – into snobbery on her part? Admittedly it kind of was but that was harmless armor snobbery, not looking down on those not as well armed as she was snobbery. Besides, she could have been a sodding casteless and still managed to get this armor given how very little she had left Orzammar with and the fact that all her current wealth had been amassed on the Surface.

"Oh quite," Aunn deadpanned. "I know it sounded like I just requested a little civility but really I expect you to scrub the ground in front of me clean so I don't have to get my boots dirty."

Dwyn shifted and the sword he had strapped to his back came into view. He opened his mouth to respond with something probably biting but Sten beat him to it.

"That sword. Where did you get it?" the qunari demanded.

"From a fellow named Faryn up near Orzammar," Dwyn replied, nonplussed. "Don't tell me that you came here for that? Particularly as you seem to have just spotted it."

"Surrender my blade or I will retrieve it from your corpse," Sten said flatly.

"Hey, Faryn may have taken your sword but I bought it fair and square," Dwyn protested. "And it was rather with the good faith assumption that the previous owner was no longer among the living."

"I do see your point," Aunn conceded. "Alright, tell you what: I'll give you six sovereigns for it. That's likely above market price but it is rather imperative that we get that sword and I'm sure this is all very inconveniencing."

Dwyn had the sword removed and was holding it out for her to talk almost before she finished speaking. She accepted the blade, quickly passed it off to Sten, and fished out the agreed upon amount.

Sten held the blade reverently in his hand, looking for all the world as if – as sappy as it sounded – the sword completed him. Aunn had known that qunari swords were important to them, had even heard Sten refer to his sword as his soul, but watching him with it now made it clear that she'd never fully understood what the weapon meant to him. "Asala," he murmured, running a finger carefully over the blade.

"There, that wasn't so bad now was it?" Dwyn said, sounding satisfied. "Now if there's not anything else?"

"No, there is. Murdock says that you won't join the militia," Aunn told him. "And we were rather hoping we could change your mind."

Dwyn snorted. "What, did Murdock think that sending a fellow dwarf to do his recruiting for him would make me all misty-eyed with thoughts of home?"

"It must have," Aunn shot back. "As practically the first thing you did once you saw me was accuse me of acting like an Orzammar noblewoman."

"Well you were," Dwyn insisted lamely. "The way you asked me why I didn't give you a proper greeting and all."

Aunn rolled her eyes. "Stick to that story, then. And there's no shame in getting misty-eyed with thoughts of home. I've been known to do that myself on occasion." Or rather, she never stopped. Still, no point in dithering over semantics.

"I'm not sticking my neck out that door for less than one hundred silvers," Dwyn declared stubbornly.

"Great," Aunn said brightly. "I just gave you six times that much."

Dwyn shook his head vehemently. "Oh no, that was for the sword."

"Oh just do it," Aunn said impatiently. "You know that you'll wait and wonder all night if you don't and you'll actually stand a better chance out there with everyone else than just you and two other people should these reanimated corpses slaughter their way here."

"Fine," Dwyn sighed. "I suppose you do have a point and being one of only three survivors doesn't seem like a good plan even if the dead don't find me. By the stone, if I wanted a fight I would have just stayed in Orzammar."

"You left Orzammar on purpose?" Aunn inquired. She supposed it made sense. Most Surface dwarves were either born on the Surface or who had chosen to leave their homes behind for whatever reason and as Dwyn did not bear the brand of a casteless his life had clearly not been as bad as it could have been there. In fact, judging from his current status as town fighter, she'd wager a guess that he'd been born into the warrior caste although she did not know of him personally. "Why?"

Dwyn shrugged. "Too much fighting all the time. Fighting each other, fighting the darkspawn, what kind of life is that? Nothing but blood, ash, and dust. Me? I wanted more so I came up here and took it." The look he shot her was a challenge, as if he were daring her to judge him.

Instead, she said simply, "Taking your life into your own hands instead of living and dying like they would have you do? I can respect that."



Aunn and Sten had been waiting outside of the Chantry for quite some time before the rest of their party showed up. She knew that the others had been successful as the news reached Murdock who was standing within hearing range of them. Still, it wouldn't hurt to hear it from them.

"So how did it go?" Aunn asked. "On our front, Dwyn had Sten's sword so we bought it off of him and then he reluctantly came down here to join the militia."

"Never leave me alone with him again!" Alistair exclaimed, looking mildly traumatized.

Zevran chuckled. "It wasn't that bad, surely Alistair. We convinced that charming young woman Bella to serve free ale."

"After you spent an hour flirting with her, promised to give her money to start a new life after the battle, and threatened to assassinate the owner of the tavern Lloyd if he didn't join the militia," Alistair accused.

Zevran shrugged, unperturbed. "Your point being? It worked."

"Do you even have five sovereigns?" Alistair demanded.

"Not as such, no, but I was actually hoping that our illustrious leader could help me out there. Bella has big dreams, you see, but can't afford to get away from her horrible job with her lecherous employer," Zevran explained, sounding mildly amused. "And he really is quite the sadist, if I do say so. Did you know that he actually built the tavern at its current location? On a cliff? You can imagine how safe that is for his poor, innocent, trusting drunk patrons."

"Remind me after the battle and I'll think about it," Aunn said vaguely.

"Oh, and we also found out something rather disturbing," Alistair said gravely. "There was an elf in the tavern and everyone kept telling us how suspicious he looked and so we went to go talk with him. I've got to agree, he really wasn't being subtle. We made him join the militia but before he did he showed us a letter from Loghain ordering him to watch the castle and report on anything he hears. This was a few weeks before the walking dead started showing up so I don't actually think Loghain was involved with that – besides, evil or not he's no mage and if he hired one then why bother since the Arl is already out of the picture – but this is enough to convince me that number nine on my list is 'poisoned the Arl.'"

"There might actually be some merit to that idea," Aunn said thoughtfully. "I suppose we'll find out more tomorrow after the battle making it more important than ever that we stand and fight tonight. The main entrance to the castle seems blocked but Bann Teagan seems like he might know another way in and if he dies so do our chances of getting to Arl Eamon."

"And so our recruitment efforts were wildly successful," Zevran declared. "Although by 'our' I really mean 'my' since Alistair mostly just stood around looking aghast. And once Lloyd had left to go forcibly volunteer to help defend his home, Bella was in charge by virtue of being the only other person who worked there and she started giving out free ale. I would hope that this is a pre-walking dead apocalypse thing and not just a general business practice or else I can't imagine that she'll stay in business for long. Well, unless she gets really nice tips which is always a legitimate possibility with drunk men and pretty girls."

"I was able to convince Owen easily enough," Leliana spoke up. "He's hopelessly drunk but it doesn't seem to be impairing his smithing skills."

"The smith was trying to drink itself to death but the bard stopped him," Shale expounded. "Apparently the smith was needed to prevent the squishy militia from suffering more casualties then need be."

"He didn't really want to die," Leliana claimed, looking sympathetic. "It's just that his daughter Valena was one of the Arlessa's maids and so he hasn't heard anything and has been worried sick. He took the villagers' need to defend themselves here as evidence that nobody cared about his daughter but I told him that we were going to go up to the castle tomorrow assuming that we all survived the night. He made me promise to look for his daughter while I was up there and since he realized that his daughter's best chance involves us not dying he agreed to start working again."

"I thought it was a waste of time to promise such a thing but the bard pointed out that she need not keep it," Shale revealed.

"That's not what I said!" Leliana exclaimed. "I said that since we were going to be poking around the castle anyway that we'd probably stumble across her without having to expend much extra effort. It was really good that we came when we did, you know. He had out a piece of robe and I don't even want to think about what would have happened had we come by later."

"It would have hung itself, no doubt," Shale said, sounding bored.

"I had gathered that, yes," Leliana said, a little annoyed. "Hence why I didn't want to think about it but thank you ever so much for spelling it out."

"I'm a golem," Shale deadpanned. "I live to serve."

"We found the child just fine," Morrigan reported. "Once we got inside the house your dog led us straight to a wardrobe where the boy was huddled frightened in the back of. He claimed he was trying to defend his house. His will to protect himself and not rely on others is admirable but the execution…not so much."

"Bevin didn't want to come out of the wardrobe but my 'chastising unruly apprentices' got him out almost before he realized what was happening," Wynne continued, sounding pleased. "Sometimes the newer children are frightened when they first arrive at the Tower and so hide wherever they can think of and so I have had a lot of time to perfect my technique for luring them out."

"What a surprise," Morrigan murmured under her breath. "People running away from Circle mages and you in particular."

"I must say, I had never quite understood the issues so many people had with Orlesians until we met," Wynne said sourly.

"And then what happened?" Alistair prompted.

"The poor child said that he was looking for his father's sword so he could protect his sister," Wynne recounted. "I promised him that we would protect all of them and then sent him back to the Chantry to wait with Kaitlyn." She hesitated. "Those poor children…they're not nearly old enough to take care of themselves yet and they have no one else here in Redcliffe and possibly in the whole world…we really should check up on them after the battle to make sure that they'll be okay."

"Fine by me," Aunn said easily. "Now if that's all it's almost sundown so I should go see if Murdock has anything else last minute that we could take care of or where he thinks we could be of most use."

The others waited where they were as Aunn approached Murdock again.

"You…" Murdock shook his head. "I've still seen nothing of your fighting ability but I can see that you were let into the Wardens for your ability to work sodding miracles if nothing else."

"Miracles?" Aunn repeated, raising an eyebrow inquisitively.

"Yes, miracles," Murdock confirmed, his voice incredulous. "You didn't just bring Dwyn and his two men down here to join the militia and convince Owen to reopen the smithy like I asked, oh no. You did both of those which did wonders for the men's morale and made sure that we're properly equipped and so won't go down so easily and more. The tavern is serving free ale and that coward Lloyd and newcomer Berwick both joined up as well. I honestly never thought I'd see the day old Lloyd would do something useful for this village but I suppose that desperate times and whatnot. Besides, we need every able-bodied man that we can get."

"I was glad to be able to help," Aunn said neutrally.

"You did more than help, Warden," Murdock told her, actually sounding sincere. "You even managed to find that lost little boy that girl was looking for earlier."

Aunn started a bit at the unfamiliar form of address. Technically she was a Warden it was true but she didn't like being addressed like that as if the fact that she happened to have consumed darkspawn blood was really the most important thing about her. During a Blight to people who didn't know her but knew that Grey Wardens were their only hope, that might indeed be the most relevant thing to know about her. Still, it could be all too easy to lose herself in the anonymity of the Wardens with their uncompromising neutrality in everything not directly related to killing darkspawn and their lack of a past. She wasn't about to let that happen to her so easily. "Aunn," she said quietly but firmly. "Please call me Aunn."

Murdock looked a little surprised but nodded. "Aunn, then. I never thought I would say this but thanks to you and your friends we might actually stand a chance tonight. The militia has never been this ready before and our need has never been greater. Are you ready to help us make a stand?"

"Of course," Aunn said immediately. "Where do you want us to go?"

Modifié par Sarah1281, 10 juillet 2010 - 04:19 .

[Sarah1281]

Chapter Seventeen: The Creepy Little Child


It wasn’t like Aunn had never stayed up all night before. On the contrary, she had done so for an entire month once she had finally been allowed to decide when to retire instead of having a bedtime forced upon her. The difference was, usually she had gone to sleep after her all-night escapades instead of attending a ceremony to celebrate the fact that, against all odds, no one had died that night and that they could finally head off to the castle.
 
Technically, Aunn didn’t have to attend but if she didn’t then she would miss out on people applauding her – and that had happened a lot less often since her exile so she really needed to savor it – and on Teagan’s goodwill which was very important as they’d need him to get into the castle. If Eamon was alive then Teagan would be the one explaining about them and if he were not then chances were Teagan would be their best chance of getting an ally to deal with Loghain.
 
Aunn was also making sure to keep an eye on Wynne. Sure, telling Ser Perth about the oil in that abandoned shop had seemed like a good idea at the time but the flaming undead were able to do quite a bit of damage before they burnt themselves up. Morrigan steadfastly refused to waste her magic healing people that weren’t part of their group and so Wynne had to pick up the slack by healing everyone else. Unfortunately, she seemed to have overexerted herself and collapsed in the middle of the fight but a few moments later she’d appeared to be fine. It was reminiscent enough of what Petra had warned her about that it had her worried, though, even if she still wasn’t particularly fond of the elderly mage. Wynne had promised her an explanation later but the middle of the fight was hardly the best place for a lengthy conversation and the middle of a ceremony was hardly any better. At any rate, there were too many of them for everyone to be standing up in front of the crowd and so only she and Alistair were required to take part in this and he had made it clear that she was the one people should be focusing on so he could feel free to zone out if need be.
 
Lloyd was almost more trouble than he was worth during the fight. Aunn could hardly call him a coward – despite his clear reluctance to join the militia in the first place – after the way he’d run all over the place constantly seeking a new opponent to face armed only with a common kitchen cleaver but man had keeping him alive been almost a full-time job though at least his tendency to keep running at fresh enemies meant that she could multitask. Normally, Aunn wouldn’t have bothered since the bartender oh so clearly had a death wish but she’d had gotten so fed up with the defeatist attitude in Redcliffe the previous day and the way several people – Murdock included – didn’t think her presence and that of her companions would make a difference that she had recklessly promised that there would be no casualties on her watch. Ancestors knew keeping that promise had almost sodding killed her but she had managed it.
 
Teagan had finished the part of his speech about little acts of heroism and the power of Redcliffe Village and turned to her. “I bow to you, dear lady. The Maker smiled on me when he sent you here in our darkest hour.” Once again, the implication that Ferelden’s absent Maker had had anything to do with her arriving when she did annoyed her but she supposed she knew what he meant. It really was impeccable timing and if she hadn’t gotten sidetracked with Haven she may very well have came and went before the plague of walking dead had hit them and who knew what would have happened then?
 
Teagan nodded to a young man standing just short of the Chantry steps and he hurried up to offer a helm to the bann before retreating back out of the center of attention. “Allow me to offer you this: the helm of Ser Ferris the Red, my great-uncle and hero of Ferelden. He would approve passing it on to one so worthy.”
 
Aunn inclined her head as she accepted it. “Thank you, Bann Teagan. I am honored.” Granted, she had no plans to wear it, ever, given her distaste for helms but it would be so very gauche to publically reject such a prize. Maybe Alistair or Sten could make use of it or even Zevran.
 
The Revered Mother stepped forward then. Even if they had all made it through the night there had been plenty who had not made it in the days preceding Aunn and company’s arrival. “Let us bow our heads and give honor to those who gave their lives in defense of Redcliffe. Now they walk with He who is their Maker. Long may they know the peace of His love.”
 
As most in the crowd said ‘So let it be’, Aunn murmured, “May the Ancestors give them welcome.” Granted this was a human death ritual for humans and perhaps a few elves but she felt it would be disrespectful to say nothing and she wasn’t about to start acting like an Andrastian.
 
After a few more minutes of the Revered Mother going on and on about the dead finding peace in the Maker’s embrace or some such nonsense, Teagan announced that their victory was such that he could attempt to enter the castle – a disheveled old man Leliana had identified as the blacksmith nodded seriously at this – and that he would be waiting at the windmill before dismissing them.
 
Aunn had wanted to go directly after him but she was held up by her companions.
 
“We should see how Bella’s doing,” Zevran said, gesturing towards a pretty and well-endowed young human.
 
“Who’s Bella?” Aunn asked as she followed him over to her.
 
“She works for Lloyd,” Alistair explained. “Or worked…she took over when Lloyd joined the militia and I’m not sure he got around to taking the place back from her yet. Or if he’ll be able to. People really seem to prefer her in charge.”
 
“Ah, my dear Bella,” Zevran greeted the girl with a kiss on the hand.
 
She giggled. “Well if it isn’t one of our dashing heroes. I can’t thank you and your friends enough for saving us.”
 
“Think nothing of it,” Zevran said with an imperious wave of his hand. “Now, I believe I made you a promise.”
 
Bella’s eyes widened slightly in realization. “Oh, you mean about helping me leave? I wouldn’t try to hold you to that, not after everything you’ve done.”
 
“Oh no, we wouldn’t mind at all, would we, Aunn?” Zevran asked, looking pointedly at her.
 
Aunn glanced around. There were several people looking on curiously to see what she’d do. Fighting the urge to roll her eyes – it simply wouldn’t do to appear uncharitable, after all – and inwardly cursing the fact that Zevran had forced her hand and almost certainly had done it on purpose, Aunn smiled and reached into her pack. “By all means. Would five sovereigns be enough for you to start a new life?” Perhaps she shouldn’t have phrased it as a question but if this girl had any tact at all then she wouldn’t demand more.
 
Bella froze. “That…that could get me all the way to Denerim,” she breathed. She gazed at Aunn with a dumbfounded expression. “And what would you be wanting in return for such a gift?”
 
As if she would ever demand something in exchange for aid in front of so many witnesses. If she had wanted something and couldn’t get away she would have phrased it like ‘If you do such-and-such I will be most grateful and will do my utmost to help you achieve a better life’ as it would make her look a lot better. “Just promise me that you won’t end up in another tavern,” Aunn said graciously. “You can do better than that.” Or at least she’d be able to with five sovereigns. Five sovereigns wasn’t exactly a lot of money but it was enough to purchase four new outfits back in Orzammar so it was likely to be enough money to travel to a different location up here.
 
“Thank you. No one’s ever…I can never repay you but if I ever see you again then I’ll certainly try,” Bella promised. She turned to go, making plans as she did so. “I have to pack and then hire a coach. Or would the coach not be able to leave immediately so I’d need to hire one and then pack? Oh, I can’t wait to quit my job…”
 
“That was a good thing you did there,” Wynne said approvingly.
 
Aunn didn’t actually care if Wynne approved of her behavior – though she knew she wouldn’t of her reasons – but there was no need for pointless conflict so she just nodded.
 
“Oh look, it’s Kaitlyn!” Leliana exclaimed. “We should go make sure she’s going to be okay.”
 
“Why not?” Aunn asked rhetorically as she began to follow Leliana towards the girl they’d helped the day before.
 
“Hello,” Leliana greeted her with a smile. “It’s good to see that Bevin hasn’t run off again.”
 
“Yes, hopefully he’s learned his lesson,” Kaitlyn said, ruffling her brother’s hair who made a face but didn’t say anything. “It’s all thanks to you all that we’re safe.”
 
“What are you going to do now?” Leliana asked, genuinely concerned. “Where will you go? Will you be okay?”
 
“With mother and father gone we’ll have to go stay at an orphanage, I suppose. We might even be separated,” Kaitlyn admitted, biting her lip. She shook her head as if to forcibly stop dwelling on being separated from the only family she had left. “At least we’re both alive, thanks to you. And who knows what would have happened if you hadn’t found Bevin.”

“There must be something we can do for her,” Leliana said, looking beseechingly at Aunn.
 
Wynne nodded her agreement, as did Alistair.
 
Well…if she had given five sovereign to the tavern server Zevran had flirted with then she could do no less for these two who were still young enough to be taken to an orphanage without her intervention. And really, who was she to just stand back and watch a family get destroyed because she was cheap? “Perhaps we could help you get to Denerim? We’re not intending to go back for quite awhile but we could pay your passage. I assume five sovereign would be enough?”
 
It was almost comical to see the way Kaitlyn’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets and her jaw dropped open. She mechanically accepted the money as she tried to find her voice. “I…this is more than I ever dreamed of! Thank you! That’s so incredibly kind of you! Bevin and I have family in Denerim and now we can afford to hire a coach to take us there! We will never forget this. Come on, Bevin, let’s go find one now!”
 
“Are we done throwing away money now?” Morrigan asked, annoyed. “We’ve lost ten sovereign now to two pretty young things. One would almost think your tastes are more of the feminine persuasion.”
 
Out of the corner of her eye, Aunn could see Leliana watching for her response with rapt interest. She smiled. “I can promise that my tastes most certainly are not of the human persuasion.” She glanced at Zevran and added just to be safe, “Or of the elven persuasion for that matter.”
 
“Truly?” Zevran asked intrigued. “That makes you quite a rare specimen indeed.”
 
“Why are we even talking about this?” Aunn wondered aloud. “We’re supposed to go meet Bann Teagan at the windmill, remember?”
 
“Let’s stop wasting time,” Sten agreed.
 
The trip to the windmill took longer than it should have as people kept stopping to wish them well and to thank them for having saved Redcliffe but it could have been worse: at least they were no longer being hit up for money. Or rather, Aunn was no longer having her companions hit her up for money on behalf of everyone they met.
 
They found Teagan standing with his hands behind his back and staring up at the castle. “Odd how quiet the castle looks from here. You would think there was nobody inside at all,” he said, turning around as he heard them approach.
 
“That is entirely possible,” Shale pointed out. “The dead that came from the castle had to have come from somewhere, right?”
 
Teagan looked trouble at the possibility. “I can’t just accept that and I won’t! I’m going to go inside and look for survivors and, more to the point, my brother and his family. I had a plan to enter the castle once the village was safe. There may be more walking corpses tonight but for now we have time to try and find out what’s going on and put a stop to this madness. There is a secret passage here, in the mill, accessible only with my family’s signet ring.”
 
Aunn blinked. That was useful and far more sensible than storming the gates which was what she feared that it would come to. “Why didn’t you mention this earlier? We could have gone yesterday?”
 
“I’m afraid that that was exactly why I didn’t mention it,” Teagan said grimly. “The village needed the warriors and I knew you’d leave if you knew that you could get in.”
 
“But if we had gone in yesterday we could have avoided the fight last night by confronting and destroying whatever is causing all of this,” Aunn countered.
 
“Ah, but who is to say that we would have succeeded before sundown? You arrived in the afternoon yesterday and I didn’t think there was time,” Teagan explained. “Not to mention that the village was in pretty poor shape yesterday and couldn’t possibly have survived on its own. I couldn’t risk it. If there is another attack tonight then at least many of these monsters were wiped out last night and the village is in much better shape to be able to fend them off. I-Maker’s Breath. Isolde?”
 
Aunn turned to see a desperate-looking middle-aged woman in a fine dress running towards them. “Teagan!” she called out, slightly breathless. To Aunn’s annoyance, she had an Orlesian accent only slightly less annoying than Marjolaine’s. “Thank the Maker you yet live!”
 
“Isolde?” Teagan said again, looking like he was afraid that she would disappear if he took his eyes off of her for a moment. “I thought for sure you were dead. How did you…what has happened?”
 
“I don’t have time to explain,” Isolde said, shaking her head. “He doesn’t know I’m gone. I slipped away once I saw that the battle was over and I must return soon before he notices because I do not think that would go over well. Teagan, you must come with me, and alone.”
 
“Who is ‘he’ and why would he be upset that you’re gone?” Aunn asked shrewdly. “Is he behind the corpses attacking?”
 
“I…who is this woman, Teagan?” Isolde asked, confused. Her eyes drifted over the others. “And everyone else?”
 
Alistair rolled his eyes. “Surely you must remember me, Lady Isolde? It has not been so long since Connor was born and I was sent to the Chantry.”
 
“Alistair,” Isolde said, her tone harsh and unforgiving. “What are you doing here?”
 
“They are Grey Wardens, Isolde,” Teagan quickly interceded. “I owe them my life as does everyone in the Village.”
 
“Oh,” Isolde looked quite taken aback and a little embarrassed. “I would explain pleasantries but considering the circumstances…”
 
“The circumstances you won’t tell us anything about? Who is the man you spoke of?” Aunn challenged.
 
“I know you need more of an explanation,” Isolde said grudgingly. “But I do not know what is safe to tell nor do I have the time to get into it.”
 
“I have yet to come across a situation that is so complicated that you can’t even attempt to summarize it. For instance ‘a demon did it’, ‘everyone else was killed by darkspawn’, ‘my father was the King’, or ‘my brother framed me for fratricide.’ All very complicated stories but easy enough to summarize although more detail may be required later.” To Aunn’s amusement, Isolde flinched both at the first example she had listed and the third one. The Alistair reference – or even reference to her, not that Isolde would know that – was expected but what about the demon one? Had she had a bad experience with a demon? Was this mess all do to a demon? “And what do you mean by ‘safe to tell’ anyway?”
 
“There is a terrible evil in the castle and I fear it may be a demon. The mage responsible was caught but still it continues! He won’t tell me how to fix it and so many are dead…Teagan, you must help me! Poor Connor is so frightened! He’s going mad and I don’t know what to do. You’re his Uncle, Teagan, you’ll be able to reason with him!” Isolde begged desperately.
 
“Is Arl Eamon even still alive?” Aunn demanded. Hopefully Isolde would at least answer that since she didn’t seem willing to explain very much about what was going on.
 
“He is, yes,” Isolde confirmed, a trace of relief seeping into her voice. “But for how much longer, I don’t know. He wasn’t pleased when his army failed to wipe out the village.”
 
“I don’t like this,” Teagan said slowly. “But with the King dead we need my brother more than ever. I will go with you, Isolde. But first I need to have a private word with Aunn and Alistair.”
 
“Oh, thank you, Teagan!” Isolde cried out, grateful. “I will be by the bridge when you are finished.”
 
Teagan, Aunn, and Alistair moved out of everyone else’s hearing range to discuss their next move.
 
“I hope the Arl will be okay,” Alistair said, eyeing the castle. “He seems to be incapacitated in some fashion as Lady Isolde didn’t mention hime except when we asked and you’d think Connor’s father would be more convincing than his uncle.”
 
“I agree,” Teagan said grimly. “I had heard rumors of my brother’s illness but for it to be this serious…we have to get in there.”
 
“This is a mistake,” Aunn said flatly. “You’re going to face what is likely a demon with only an unarmed woman beside you? Are all the reanimated corpses even dispatched with? You’re just going to get yourself killed.”
 
“You may be right,” Teagan conceded. “But what else can I do? Trap or no, I have to see if I can help Connor and Eamon. I have to try, if nothing else. They’re my family.”
 
The words hit Aunn hard. It was one thing for the likes of Kaitlyn or Mathias to care about their family members, they were commoners and things worked differently for them. This man before her, however, was a noble just as her family was but where her family had done nothing to save her when they weren’t actively trying to destroy her, Teagan was knowingly walking to what he knew very well might be his death for the small chance that he’d be able to help his.
 
“Make no mistake,” Teagan said, misreading Aunn’s silence. “I have no illusions of being able to deal with this alone. You two, however, have proven quite formidable and you’ll have others to back you up. With any luck I’ll be able to…distract this demon while you use my signet ring to sneak in. What do you say?”
 
“It’s dangerous,” Alistair said bluntly. “I don’t like it.”
 
“Neither do I, to be honest,” Teagan admitted. “But what choice do we have? You need Eamon as well or you wouldn’t be here. Ser Perth and his men are watching the castle gate for trouble. If you can open it then they should be able to help you but I don’t think there’s anyone else. Remember: whatever else, Eamon is the priority here. Connor, Isolde, myself…we’re all expendable.”
 
“I don’t believe that,” Aunn said quietly. She still couldn’t quite believe that he was willing to walk into a demon’s den for the sake of his family but she didn’t want to see this end badly. “I’ll find a way to save you all, I promise.” She wasn’t sure how she’d be able to pull this off but when she actually promised something, she meant it.
 
Teagan smiled a little at this. “You are brave as well as beautiful, it seems. The Maker smiled on me indeed, when He sent you to Redcliffe. If only this had been...” he trailed off as he placed his signet ring into Aunn’s waiting hand. “But I can delay no longer. Allow me to bid you farewell... and good luck.”
 
“Good luck to you, as well,” Alistair told him, watching as his almost-uncle returned to Isolde. Once Teagan was gone, he glanced Aunn’s way. “What was that all about?”
 
“What was what all about?” Aunn asked innocently.
 
“Bann Teagan called you beautiful,” Alistair said, almost as if it were an accusation.
 
Aunn cleared her throat. “Well, Sten and I finished convincing Dwyn to join the militia far sooner than anyone else showed up and Sten was too busy being in awe of his restored sword to say much to me – plus he’s not a big fan of idle conversation at the best of times – and so I went in to go talk to Bann Teagan. He’s a very charming man.”
 
Alistair almost choked. “You mean you flirted with him.” It wasn’t a question.  
 
“Hey, cut me some slack; I’m only dwarven here! He’s the first noble boy I’ve encountered who actually cares about helping people more than politics. By the Ancestors, if he were a dwarf I would have probably proposed on the spot…” Aunn said a little dreamily.
 
Alistair looked a little uncomfortable. “Right, well, let’s just move on, shall we? We’ve got to hurry after Bann Teagan before it’s too late.”
 
“Fine by me,” Aunn said, amused at just how awkward this was making him. She followed Alistair into the mill and quickly spotted what must be the passage that Teagan had spoken of. She pressed the signet ring to the wood and it opened up. Aunn wasn’t quite sure about the wisdom of using such a fragile and un-enduring material to craft the entrance to a secret passage out of but it really wasn’t her problem when the wood inevitably rotted and needed to be replaced.
 
Silently, the eight of them made their way through the secret passage not encountering a single soul. They stepped through a door out to where what Aunn assumed was the castle began do to the presence of more of the reanimated corpses. That was expected. What wasn’t, however, was the frightened cries coming from the next room over. They fought their way towards the direction of the voice and saw five or six of the creatures standing in front of a cell, trying to get in. Leliana’s bow felled two of them before the group could reach them and Morrigan and Wynne’s magic took care of the rest. It really was useful to have ranged fighters at times.
 
“W-who’s out there?” the voice demanded. “Is it someone alive? Oh please tell me that it’s not more of those creatures…”
 
Aunn stepped closer to the cell and saw that there was a bruised and dirty human man in mage robes standing with his back to the back of his cell.
 
“You don’t look like the Arlessa’s guards,” the mage said, sounding confused. “Did you come from outside the castle?”
 
“We did,” Aunn confirmed. “Who are you and why are you in here?”
 
“My name is Jowan,” Jowan introduced.
 
“Jowan?” Aunn asked, surprised. “As in, Caunira and Angélique’s missing friend Jowan?”
 
Jowan looked stunned. “I…yes, yes I am. You know them? Is Angélique alright? Caunira wouldn’t help me escape from the Tower but Angélique agreed to but I couldn’t take her with me and we got caught and I’ve been so worried about her and Lily.”
 
“I don’t know who this ‘Lily’ is,” Aunn replied. “But even though Angélique appeared to be in some kind of trouble she was fine.”
 
“Thank the Maker something’s worked out at least,” Jowan said with a relieved sigh. “My poor Lily, though…I hope she’s alright…But you asked why I was in here? I can’t believe you don’t know. I thought everybody knew.”
 
“Clearly we don’t,” Aunn said, once again resenting being told she should know things that she didn’t and it wasn’t like Isolde was at all forthcoming when they had met. “So just tell us.”
 
“Alright. Lady Isolde has decided that I must be behind all of this mess even though I was locked up here when it all started,” Jowan began. “I may have poisoned the Arl but I didn’t-”
 
“Wait, what?” Alistair interrupted. “You poisoned the Arl? Why would you do such a heinous thing?”
 
“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” Jowan said defensively.
 
“Oh, I’ve heard that line before…” Zevran murmured.
 
“Didn’t you already speculate that that happened yesterday?” Aunn asked.
 
“Well, yes,” Alistair conceded. “But it’s one thing to have a theory and it’s quite another to meet the man responsible for poisoning Arl Eamon.”
 
“What could possibly make you think that poisoning a man was a good idea?” Wynne demanded, her hands on her hips.
 
“I was captured by Templar’s following my escape from the Circle after being outed as a blood mage and set to undergo the Rite of Tranquility,” Jowan explained. “I was brought to Denerim but then Teyrn Loghain – and I know that sounds really unlikely but I recognized him from his portrait at the Tower and so I knew that it really was him – came by and told me that Arl Eamon was a threat to Ferelden stability and that if I poisoned him then he’d settle things with the Circle for me so I could go back and not be a Tranquil. It’s not like the poison was even supposed to kill the Arl, either, just incapacitate him. Of course, once I got caught poisoning her husband, Lady Isolde won’t believe anything I say about not being behind the attacks.”
 
“I thought you looked familiar,” Wynne said grimly. “Of course I also thought you were dead. It might have been better for this village if you were.”
 
“Oh don’t say that!” Leliana said, a little upset. “Everyone deserves a second chance.”
 
“This was Jowan’s second chance,” Wynne muttered.
 
“Very merciful, Wynne,” Morrigan mocked. “I must confess, I can hardly believe that this man is a blood mage. I suppose that this just goes to show that you can never really tell…”
 
“Why were you even here?” Aunn wondered. “I mean, you’re not even trying to hide the fact that you’re a mage and mages don’t generally have the freedom to wander around from what I understand.”
 
“That’s true, we don’t,” Jowan admitted. “But Lady Isolde brought me here to tutor her son in secret so he could learn to hide his abilities. She was terrified that the Circle of Magi would take her son away for training and she knows that contact with the outside world is…not encouraged. I only had a short time with Connor and he’s still so very young that he doesn’t know nearly enough to pull something like this off, though, or how to resist a demon in the Fade. Then again, since I’ve never faced one myself I wouldn’t know how to begin to help him with that.”
 
“Connor…a mage?” Alistair gasped. “I don’t believe it.”
 
“I could be mistaken but I think we’ve got more pressing concerns at the moment,” Aunn pointed out. “Like whether Connor’s even alive or possessed.”
 
“This would not have happened had his tongue been removed,” Sten said matter-of-factly.
 
Jowan looked warily at him but said nothing, probably because as extreme as removing someone’s tongue was Sten was right that had it been done they wouldn’t be in this mess right now.
 
“You’re right,” Alistair nodded. “It’s just so…you never expect this to happen to the people you know.”
 
“Please, let me out,” Jowan pleaded. “I want to try to make things right. Everything’s spiraled out of control – again – and I just want to be able to make things right for once.”
 
Aunn considered it. He seemed sincere but he was also desperate and they knew next to nothing about him or what he was capable of. “I think it might be best if you stay here for now. Not to worry, though, I’m sure you’ll get your chance soon enough.”
 

 
“You remember how I said that I missed this house?” Alistair asked as he stabbed yet another suit of armor that had decided to attack them. “Well I lied. I hate it. It’s a horrible place.”
 
“Oh, I don’t know,” Zevran said, examining the new dagger he had liberated from the armory. I’ve found some very nice loot. Although some of it was disappointing. I mean, you’d think an Arl would be able to afford some nicer jewelry,” he said, holding up an amulet and examining it critically.
 
“Let me see that,” Alistair said, snatching the amulet away from the elf. “This looks just like… it must be. And you found it here, did you say?”
 
“Yes, on the desk of that last room we were in,” Zevran answered, frowning a bit at having his prize stolen.
 
“This was my mother’s amulet,” Alistair breathed, looking at the necklace almost in awe. “I’m sure of it. But I don’t understand…I threw it at the wall. It was broken!”
 
“Clearly someone fixed it,” Morrigan replied, disdainful. “Although if it was really so cheap as all that I have no idea why anyone would even bother.”
 
“I bet the Arl did it because of how much Alistair means to him,” Wynne hypothesized.
 
“Maybe,” Alistair said vaguely. “He might have even brought this with him one of those times he tried to visit me but I wouldn’t let him. Stupid, stupid child.”
 
“You were only a child,” Leliana said soothingly. “All that matters is that you learn from them and try to be better today than you were yesterday and better tomorrow than you were today.”
 
“Self-improvement is a worthy goal,” Sten declared.
 
“And humans do have ever so much to improve on,” Shale agreed. “In fact, you could start now and do nothing else for the rest of your lives and you would still not even have scratched the surface of all the improvements you’d need.”
 
“I think we get it,” Aunn cut in. “Alistair, I’m glad that you were able to recover your mother’s amulet and hopefully you’ll get a chance to talk to Arl Eamon about it.”
 
“I think we’ve found Bann Teagan and the Arlessa,” Ser Perth announced as he came around the corner and beckoned for the group to follow him. They had let him and his men into the castle when they were escorting the blacksmith’s daughter – whatever it was it had started with a V – to safety as she wouldn’t go on her own and Leliana was honestly concerned that if anything happened to the girl that her father would kill himself. Aunn didn’t really know much about suicide (surely it had happened but non-joining the Legion suicide had been considered dishonorable so it was covered up by embarrassed family members) but she did know that doing nothing when it could easily be avoided just by going a little bit out of their way to make sure that the maid stayed safe would just make her look horrible. Besides, even if the girl was a cowering mess when they came upon her she had at least been smart enough to realize that the walking dead went after people when they ran and to slip away when everyone else was attempting to flee.
 
Following Ser Perth, Aunn saw a few thoroughly dismembered corpses – it was unpleasant to have to do but really the only non-magical way to stop the corpses from getting back up – and some equally torn apart suits of armor. Leliana had come across a man still clinging to life if only just and insisted on staying with him until he passed on. That didn’t take very much time, admittedly, but once he did then he interrupted Leliana’s impromptu funeral rites but attempting to bite her as he had become one of the monsters. Trian seemed to take particular offense with the reanimated dead dogs.
 
Ser Perth’s men were standing in front of the large door that they were led to but they stepped aside as their leader pushed open the double doors and strode inside.
 
Aunn couldn’t truthfully say that she was expecting the site that met her eyes. Teagan – determined, dignified Bann Teagan – was dancing about and waving his hands to the amusement of a small child who clapped along and laughed in a voice far deeper than he should possess while a terrified and trembling Isolde watched on, wringing her hands. 
 
The child held up his hand imperiously as his gaze flickered towards the intruders into his private realm and immediately, Teagan stopped his little show and scrambled to go sit at the feet of the boy who was presumably his nephew like a dog. “Ah, so these are our…visitors,” the boy said, his voice still sounding dark and twisted. It wasn’t normal for someone to sound this distorted. In fact, it almost reminded her of the sloth demon she had faced back at the Circle Tower. Could this boy be a demon? “And this is the one who defeated my soldiers?” he pressed. “The ones I sent to reclaim my village?”
 
“Y-yes, Connor,” Isolde confirmed, unable to even look at her son.
 
“And now it’s staring at me,” Connor complained. “What is it, mother? I can’t see it well enough.”
 
Aunn wondered what made him think she was staring if he couldn’t even tell what species or gender she was. Perhaps he just wanted Isolde to verbally identify her?
 
“This is a dwarf, Connor. You... you've seen dwarves before. We've had them here at the castle...” Isolde said, trying and failing to stay calm for Connor’s sake.
 
“Had them? For dinner, maybe. Looks like a tough chew, maybe in a nice stew,” Connor mocked. “Shall I send it to the kitchen, Mother?”
 
Aunn’s eyes hardened. Possessed or not, this child was really starting to irritate her. “So this is it? Connor’s the one whose possession is killing everyone?”
 
“He didn’t mean to!” Isolde insisted, getting a little hysterical. “He’s just a little boy! This is all that mage’s fault. He did this to my son!”
 
“Oh yes, mother, always blame others for your own problems,” Connor said disgustedly. “But let’s keep thing’s civil. Tell me, woman, why are you here?”
 
As if he didn’t already know. “I’m here to help,” Aunn claimed, reasoning that that sounded better than telling a child – albeit a possessed one – that she was here to stop him.
 
“How very vague,” Connor said, sounding deeply amused. “Who are you here to help? Mother? Father? Me? Yourself?”
 
They were all one and the same, really. Once the demon was gone everyone except the demon would be better off. “To help all the people that you’ve terrorized, of course,” Aunn declared.
 
“Terrorized? Me?” Connor asked with exaggerated innocence. “Don’t be absurd, we’re all just having a good time. Isn’t that right, Uncle?”
 
“Marmalade!” Teagan replied, clearly still out of it.
 
“I don’t like it when people try to spoil my fun. Honestly, between saving that stupid village and interrupting me now you’re seriously beginning to bore me,” Connor said, making the childish complaint somehow seem like a threat. Of course, when he turned and fled a moment later it nearly ruined the effect of Bann Teagan and several other miraculously still living guards all attacking at once.
 
“Try not to kill them if at all possible,” Aunn instructed. “That said, if you can’t simply incapacitate them then do what you have to.”
 
Isolde ran to a corner of the room so as to not be in the way as the battle commenced. Aunn herself was facing Teagan. While killing brainwashed but still living guards wasn’t an idea outcome – particularly as they’d just get up and start attacking again once they were dead – they really couldn’t afford to sacrifice Teagan as he was the one in charge with Eamon laid up by poison, Connor a child and possessed, and Isolde proving herself a spectacular failure at handling pressure well. Fortunately, Teagan was the only one she had to deal with because it was far, far easier to kill someone than it was to get them out of the way non-lethally. Eventually, though, she managed to get him to lose his balance and then when his head was at a more reasonable height she slammed her sword into it and he went down hard.
 
Once the sounds of battle stopped, Isolde turned around and once she saw Teagan lying on the ground she rushed to his side. “Oh Teagan! Teagan! Please wake up!”
 
“He’ll be fine,” Aunn assured her. “I’ve knocked people out that way before and there hasn’t appeared to be any lingering damage.”
 
“Just the same, I would rather not discuss anything further until my brother-in-law is awake,” Isolde said with an air of finality.
 
And so there was really no choice but to wait. Isolde did consent to sending guards down to drag Jowan up to them so that when Teagan awoke they could continue without further delay in attempting to understand the situation and formulating a plan. For twenty minutes Aunn watched the door that Connor had run through warily but no one appeared. Finally, just as Morrigan had begun to generate sparks on her fingertips out of sheer annoyance, the bann stirred.
 
“Oh, thank the Maker!” Isolde cried out, kneeling beside him. “You’re alright!”
 
“Isolde,” Teagan said, wincing in pain. He ignored the hand his sister-in-law offered and forced himself to his feet. “You knew that would happen.”
 
“I..no, I didn’t!” Isolde insisted. “I knew that something was wrong with Connor, certainly, but I told you that I feared he was going mad!”
 
“Yes, but you neglected to mention that by ‘going mad’ you really meant ‘a demon who has been possessing everything in sight has taken residence in Connor’,” Teagan said pointedly.
 
“I didn’t know that he would possess you,” Isolde argued. “He had enough been possessing corpses. And Jowan is the one who put the demon inside of my son!”
 
“I did nothing of the sort!” Jowan protested. “A mage can only force another to become an abomination by having a demon lying in waiting and torturing the second mage until they accept it inside of them. I was locked up for days before hearing anything about Connor!”
 
“Then what do you propose happened?” Isolde asked skeptically. “He just went off and found a demon all on his own?”
 
“That’s exactly what I’m suggesting,” Jowan confirmed. “Or, at least the demon found him. Demons generally don’t force themselves on the living, they encounter people – usually mages – in the Fade and trick them into letting them in. All this happened after Connor found out that I was poisoning his father. He was never supposed to die but if Connor didn’t know that and thought that the Arl’s life was in danger…if the demon agreed to keep him alive then Connor might have agreed to let it in. He’s far too young to really have any idea of what that means and I never got to explaining that to him either.”
 
“So what you’re saying is that this is all your fault,” Isolde refused to budge from that position. “You poisoned my husband and you failed to even adequately do the job you had been brought here to do.”
 
“I…yes,” Jowan conceded, bowing his head. “I’m sorry.”
 
“However this came to be, we simply cannot let it continue,” Teagan declared. “The demon is quiet for now but who knows how it will remain so?”
 
“I would not normally suggest killing a child,” Alistair spoke up hesitantly. “But if he’s an abomination then I don’t think we have a choice.”
 
“We…we do,” Jowan disagreed slowly, sounding as if he were almost afraid to continue speaking.
 
Isolde’s eyes met his and there was hope in them for the first time Aunn had seen. “Tell me. How can we save my son?”
 
“There are two ways to stop an abomination,” Jowan explained. “The first is, as he said, to kill the possessed person. The second is for a mage to go into the Fade and to encounter the demon. Unfortunately, this takes many mages and a good supply of lyrium, which we’re sorely lacking. But…I’m a blood mage and so I can send another mage into the Fade by myself.”
 
“Ah, but there’s always a catch,” Morrigan pointed out.
 
Jowan swallowed. “There is…instead of lyrium I would need to use someone’s life force. All of it, in fact.”
 
“Why not just use half of the life force of two people?” Shale wondered. “Or a third of three people?”
 
Jowan looked a little embarrassed. “I…am not the most experienced of blood mages. I know I could pull off the ritual requiring sacrificing one’s life but anything more complicated than that is beyond my capabilities.”
 
“Absolutely not,” Teagan said firmly. “I can’t ask anyone to-”
 
“I will do it,” Isolde spoke up, sounding strangely peaceful now that she had found a way to save her son. “This all started because I let Jowan into the Castle, because I wanted to hide Connor’s powers. He’s just a child…if there must be a price paid in blood then let it be my blood.”
 
“Isolde, you know that Eamon would never allow this,” Teagan told her sounding surprised that she was even considering such an option.
 
“Well thanks to my bringing Jowan here, Eamon isn’t here to make this decision,” Isolde countered. “I am. It looks like it’s going to come down to me dying or Connor dying. You can’t ask me to just sit by and let them kill him. Not when there’s another way.”
 
“Isolde,” Teagan said, a lot of his earlier anger fading in the wake his sister-in-law’s steadfast determination to fix things and to keep his nephew alive.
 
Aunn watched the scene uncertainly. While Isolde had certainly not been making the best choices and her determination to keep her son – however justified it was and Connor’s current predicament made even that seem like a bad move on her part – had cost the people of this castle and those in the village dearly, she’d had good intentions and she was trying to fix the mess she caused. She could respect that. She was actually a little envious. Connor was lucky he had a family that was so concerned for him, even if they didn’t always express that in the most positive of ways.
 
“I agree that Lady Isolde should have the opportunity to give her life for her son’s if it comes to that,” Aunn spoke up. “But Jowan said that mages and lyrium could work just as well as blood. The Circle Tower isn’t far from here and they owe us for stopping their own demon infestation not too long ago. Do you think we’d have time to appeal to them?”
 
“Wait, what?” Jowan looked startled. “There was a demon infestation at the Circle?”
 
“Uldred was teaching other apprentices like yourself blood magic,” Wynne told him, pursing her lips. “And then he got himself possessed by a Pride demon. Demons were everywhere…Greagoir almost had to annul the Circle.”
 
“I’m not sure,” Teagan said, thinking hard. “That would certainly be the best situation if we could pull it off but it’s a two-day round trip and that’s assuming that the mages would be able to leave immediately. We really can’t count on the demon in Connor remaining passive for that long.”
 
“And yet if we kill Connor now or do the ritual then we’ll never know if we could have gotten a better ending,” Aunn replied. “Which is why I’m going to propose a slightly risky compromise. I can take off for the tower with Alistair and Leliana and leave everyone else here. This way, I won’t run as much of a risk of being ambushed and not making it to the Tower and back and there are still a lot of people here. Keep an eye on Connor and if it looks like he’s going to try something then either Wynne or Morrigan can do the ritual with Jowan or, if it’s too late for that, one of the people I’ve left behind can kill him.”
 
“You’d be willing to risk your own men to save my son?” Isolde asked, looking both stunned and grateful.
 
“If push comes to shove then I fully expect my friends to be able to deal with one demon,” Aunn clarified. “They’ve dealt with worse, after all, and I have faith that they can do it before Connor can send anything against the village. I cannot guarantee the safety of those within the castle, however, which is why I’m mentioning it. You guys will be the ones most at risk here and Connor is your family member so I’m leaving the decision up to you.”
 
Teagan and Isolde exchanged a look.
 
“As I have said, this is more my fault than Connor’s and so if anyone should have to pay the price it is me,” Isolde said at last. “If I’m willing to lay down my life for a blood magic ritual to save him then how could I not be willing to risk being killed in the process of making sure that Redcliffe doesn’t suffer more? Though we’ll need to make sure to notice something’s wrong before it comes to killing him.”
 
“I agree with Isolde,” Teagan said firmly. “I came here knowing very well that I could be killed and now that I have an idea of what we’re up against that hasn’t changed. We’ll wait as long as we can but please, hurry.”
 
Oh, Aunn would hurry all right. She still had a happy ending to deliver, after all, and she’d be damned if she let a demon get in the way of keeping that promise.

[Sarah1281]

Chapter Eighteen: Not Such A Waste Of Time

Alistair had been fretting all day. It was hardly surprising as every minute they spent rushing towards the Circle Tower was a minute that Connor or Isolde could be spending getting slain trying to stop the demon. Not to mention, of course, the possibility that someone might be killed before the demon could be stopped. Aunn knew that Alistair wanted desperately to be back at Redcliffe so he could see for himself that everything was fine but she honestly thought that he was better off here. Granted he had no way of knowing if Eamon’s wife and son were still among the living but staying behind at Redcliffe would have just meant a lot of frustrating waiting around as he would have had no idea how far off the mages were from arriving. This way he could actually see what they were doing and know how long it would take them and just sitting around at Redcliffe hoping the demon chose, against all odds, not to attack again would be maddening. If Connor or Isolde were to be killed, Alistair shouldn’t be there to witness it, to be a part of it. While it was true that he had spoken in favor of killing Connor, there was a difference between logically knowing that something was the safest option – particularly when one took into account his Templar training – and actually being okay with going through with it. Knowing Alistair, if his suggestion had been followed he’s just end up blaming himself. It was best to just remove him from the situation altogether.
 
Aunn didn’t think any of her companions wanted to be involved with killing Connor or Isolde but how much they even cared varied. Leliana, in all her repentant kindness and mercy, would probably handle it the worst which was why Aunn had brought her along. She might or might not refuse to go through with it but she definitely did not need to be in that position. Aunn had almost taken Wynne due to her extreme disapproval of their blood magic ritual first backup plan but if they did go that route than either she or Morrigan had to enter the Fade and if Morrigan couldn’t or wouldn’t do it then Wynne would be needed.
 
“Why is this taking so long?” Alistair asked again, bouncing his let up and down as he leaned forward in the boat that was taking them to the Circle Tower as if that would make them get there any faster.
 
“Lissy can only go so fast,” the ferryman, Kester, said, sounding mildly offended. “If she’s good enough for Greagoir than she’ll have to be good enough for you.”
 
Alistair sighed. “I’m sorry, that didn’t come out right. I just really need to see Irving and it’s hard to wait.”
 
“Well, we’re nearly there,” Kester assured him, appearing to be mollified by Alistair’s apology.
 
“I do hope we make it in time,” Leliana said quietly. “Redcliffe has suffered enough.”
 
“It’s really a good thing that we’ve already solved their own demon problem or the odds of us making it back in time wouldn’t even be worth considering,” Aunn remarked idly.
 
“I’ve thought about what you’ve said, you know,” Leliana told her abruptly. “About how I don’t have to hide who I am in order to be a better person than Marjolaine? I wanted to thank you. I really think you’re right.”
 
“I was happy to help,” Aunn assured her as the boat finally docked and Alistair all but ran for the Tower. “Let’s follow him, shall we?”
 
By the time they had caught up with Alistair, he was already standing before a confused-looking Irving. “And so I don’t even know if it’s too late but we have to go back and try anyway and so even though I know that the Circle is still rebuilding we really need your help,” he was saying.
 
“A child at Redcliffe is possessed, you say?” Irving asked uncertainly. “And it’s the Arl’s son? I don’t see why you would need our help to kill one abomination given how you cleared out the Tower not long ago. Unless…do you mean to confront the demon in the Fade?”
 
“We do,” Leliana nodded. “If we return with you in time then we can end this peacefully but if not then Jowan will have to kill Arlessa Isolde in order to save Connor.”
 
Irving’s eyes flashed. “Jowan is there?”
 
“Oh yes,” Aunn confirmed. “He cause all sorts of problems up there when he decided to poison the Arl so I imagine you and the Templars would be quite eager to get your hands on him again which would be quite easy to do if you come with us…”
 
“Redcliffe is not far and a child’s life is at stake,” Irving declared. “Catching Jowan is just an added bonus. If you can wait for half an hour then we will be ready to take off.”
 
“Half an hour,” Alistair murmured. “It might not sound like a lot but what if we get back and we find out that we missed saving Connor by twenty minutes? We really don’t have this kind of time.”
 
“Calm down, Alistair,” Leliana said soothingly. “Panicking won’t make them go any faster and it will just make the time seem like it’s going slower.”
 
“I highly doubt it can feel any slower. How long has it been since he left?” Alistair demanded.
 
“Less than two minutes,” Aunn reported, already feeling that Alistair was right that this would be a long half an hour, albeit for different reasons. She closed her eyes and wished she knew how to mediate or something else that would make time seem to speed up.
 
“Excuse me,” a voice called out hesitantly.
 
Aunn turned around to see Caunira and Angélique approaching them.
 
“You do remember who we are, right?” Caunira continued.
 
“Yes, of course,” Aunn nodded. “You and Angélique helped us to save the Circle when we passed through here a few weeks ago.”
 
“We heard the commotion when you arrived again and managed to hear the tail-end of your conversation,” Caunira revealed. “So what we want to know is whether you really-”
 
“Have you really found Jowan?” Angélique interrupted impatiently. “Is it true that he caused a plague of the undead? That was what the rumors having been saying about Redcliffe at any rate as Greagoir couldn’t get in contact with the Redcliffe Chantry.”
 
“Oh, please,” Caunira scoffed. “How could he possibly get up to something like that? Jowan’s not malicious and I don’t see how he could be so stupid as to start something like that, even if he has made quite a few horrible decisions lately.”
 
“That…would be a pretty accurate description of what’s been going on, actually,” Alistair admitted. “It wasn’t Jowan’s doing, though. Well, not directly at any rate.”
 
“So is he okay?” Caunira pressed.
 
“For now,” Leliana answered. “Although all of Redcliffe’s problems started when he poisoned the Arl which is a capital offense as it is so things do not look good for him.”
 
“Poor Jowan,” Angélique said, sounding vaguely sad. “Who ever would have thought that hiding out in a village with its own Chantry and which is but a day away from the Circle Tower would be a bad idea?”
 
Caunira stared at her. “I do hope that that’s a rhetorical question, Angélique, but sadly I can’t even tell right now.”
 
“You say the strangest things, Caunira,” Angélique said breezily.

“Irving won’t let us come with him,” Caunira said, ignoring Angélique in favor of getting back to the reason the girls had approached them in the first place. “Especially not Angélique and certainly not after she’s finally managed to convince Greagoir – and by she I mostly mean everyone else since she didn’t seem to care – that she wasn’t a threat or a blood mage.”
 
“That’s probably for the best, then,” Aunn replied. “If he should escape you two would be the first to be blamed regardless of if you were really even involved at all.”
 
“I would definitely be involved,” Angélique announced cheerfully.
 
“We know,” Caunira groaned. “I wouldn’t be but just the fact Jowan would think to ask me and Angélique would be involved would be enough for them to get suspicious.”
 
“What are you asking us to do?” Leliana asked.
 
“I know that he’s done a lot of stupid things and he’s gotten Angélique into a lot of trouble but getting her involved,” Caunira began, “but it’s not like he’s a bad person, he’s just…almost physically incapable of making rational decisions. From the sounds of it, the Arl will want to execute him. You might think sending him back here will make him safer as he’ll either be made a Tranquil which he thinks is worse than death or he will actually be killed like Greagoir wants to do to him. I’m not holding out much hope, mind you, but if you can do something to try and help him, would you?”
 
“If there is a reasonable third option, I will certainly consider it,” Aunn promised.
 
“I suppose that’s all we can ask,” Caunira said with a sigh. “Thank you.”
 
“Yeah, Jowan may have horrible taste in women but I don’t want him to die,” Angélique agreed.
 
“Lily was a very nice girl,” Caunira disagreed.
 
“And Jowan chose her over me!” Angélique cried out.
 
“Were you even interested in him?” Caunira demanded.
 
“No,” Angélique replied promptly, “but since when does that have anything to do with anything?”
 
Caunira eyed the Templar standing in the corner of the room watching them. “We should probably go. If we stay here any longer and Jowan does manage to avoid death and tranquility then we’ll probably be blamed.”
 
As the two mages hurried away, Alistair just shook his head. “You know, one good thing about coming here, for all its problems, is that it never fails to make me truly appreciate just how much Duncan saved me by making me into a Grey Warden…”


 
It wasn’t like the eleven mages that Irving chose to accompany him to Redcliffe – and Caunira had been right that neither she nor Angélique had been picked to go – didn’t understand that it was an emergency because they certainly did. What they didn’t appreciate, however, was the breakneck speed that Alistair insisted on taking them whenever they were on land.
 
Still, all of Alistair’s hurrying seemed to be worth it as they managed to arrive back in Redcliffe a full three hours sooner than they had been expected and to a non-further-massacred village and castle, to boot.
 
“Is he-?” Alistair started to ask the minute he charged into the main hall where Teagan and Isolde were pacing restlessly.
 
“He’s been quiet,” Teagan confirmed. “Your friends have been watching him.”
 
“Thank the Maker that you have returned so swiftly!” Isolde exclaimed gratefully. “And thank you for heeding their urgent summons,” she said, addressing herself to the mages.
 
“The Circle would never turn down a child in need,” Irving said virtuously. “Where is the child?”
 
“He’s upstairs,” Teagan revealed. “Every so often, one of the people Aunn and Alistair left behind to keep watch over him comes down and reports that he’s still quiet but we haven’t seen him since he fled upstairs two days ago. Apparently he’s standing near my brother’s room but hasn’t gone in.”
 
“Do we need him for the ritual?” Isolde asked, beginning to move towards the door.
 
Irving shook his head. “No, it is probably best that he not realize what is going on or the demon might try to disrupt the ritual. Once it senses the mage we’re sending in coming after it, the demon will likely be too preoccupied to cause much trouble but as the threat to it will be ended prematurely if it interrupts the ritual I do not think we should risk it.”
 
Aunn nodded her understanding. “Alright. How soon do you think you can prepare the ritual?”
 
Irving glanced over at his fellow mages who had been hard at work setting up. “As soon as you decide who you are sending into the Fade we should be able to proceed.”
 
What, so now it was up to Aunn to decide which of the fifteen mages present to send into the Fade? What did she really know about the Fade aside from that it was a horribly dull and exasperating place she deeply pitied all non-dwarves for having to travel to nightly and that she most definitely did not belong there? She really knew very little of rituals as well or what would happen to a mage that failed to do what they were supposed to. Leliana had claimed that if you died in the Fade while you were sleeping you just woke up but what would happen to a mage who had been sent there with a ritual while they were awake?
 
“As the First Enchanter you are more experienced than any of the mages you’ve brought with you, right?” Aunn asked. “And more so than Wynne?”
 
“Perhaps,” Irving allowed. “Although Wynne has always had a natural affinity for the Fade.”
 
So Aunn had heard and yet when they had all gotten trapped in the Fade at the Circle Tower that hadn’t done much to help her realize that she was trapped even though Angélique and Morrigan and immediately known where they were and Caunira had realized where she was soon enough. In fact, she was pretty sure Sten had realized that he was in the Fade and he wasn’t even a mage. She wasn’t sure if she should count herself as having realized it as she had only recognized that something was wrong until the demon masquerading as Duncan had attacked her.
 
“I’m nearly positive that Morrigan didn’t get an opportunity to do something like this at the Orlesian Cirlce,” Aunn continued, diplomatically not questioning with Wynne’s supposed hitherto unseen talent with the Fade. “There’s Jowan, of course, but he’s…well, I’m not sure that that would go over very well.”
 
“We can’t possibly leave something so important in his hands!” Isolde agreed right on cue. “He who started all of this…”
 
“I don’t know if he can be trusted or not,” Aunn said neutrally. “But since other people here do not trust him then even should he do the ritual perfectly and drive out the demon then people will always wonder.”
 
“Am I right in thinking that you would like me to be the one to go into the Fade?” Irving asked curiously, raising an eyebrow.
 
Aunn nodded. “I am at that.”
 
“It is rather a large thing you ask of me,” Irving said slowly.
 
“I don’t want to take any chances when it comes to saving this child,” Aunn said firmly. Against all odds, a happy ending was still in sight and she’d be damned if she let one old man’s hesitation to commit himself prevent her from getting it. “And I know that you’ll be happy to help. I could really tell when I first met you right before I saved you from Uldred that you were the type to go above and beyond the call of duty if it meant saving someone.”
 
“You’re too kind,” Irving said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. He knew that she’d just pretty much forced his hand as how could he back out now without looking horrible in front of everyone there? “I will do as you ask.”
 
“If no one needs me here then I’m going to go check on Connor and to let the others know that the ritual has begun,” Aunn announced, heading to the door Connor had run through two days before and making her way up the set of stairs she soon came across. The first person she saw was Shale standing guard at the top of the stairwell.
 
“It is back,” Shale greeted her. “The demon child has been quiet while it was away.”
 
“That’s good to hear,” Aunn said, a little relieved. Sure Teagan had told her that nothing had happened but he hadn’t seen it for himself and only had her companions’ claims to go by. It was much better to be hearing it now from Shale who would know for sure.
 
Shale inclined her head. “It’s very strange. The demon child mostly just stood in the same spot for two days and occasionally muttered to itself. Are all demon children this strange?”
 
“I have no idea,” Aunn confessed. “This is the first one I’ve ever encountered. Maybe the demon is dealing with problems in the Fade or something. Connor could be fighting it, I guess. I would recommend that you don’t call Connor a demon child in front of Teagan or Isolde. They would…not react well.”
 
“I am not afraid of squishy humans,” Shale insisted, sounding outraged at the very thought. “Still, I would like to avoid the whining one’s screeching.”
 
“The whining one…that would be Isolde, I take it?” Aunn hazarded a guess.
 
“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” Shale asked rhetorically.
 
“My mistake,” Aunn said with a small grin. “Anywhere, the ritual was just about to start when I came up here so it’s probably in process now. I’m going to go tell the others.”
 
“Does that mean we can leave this place soon?” Shale asked hopefully. “Good. I do not like it here. Everything’s so very breakable, even more so than usual. And the construction…it’s driving me mad.”
 
Aunn’s smile widened. “You know, if I had any doubts that you were from Orzammar that would have dispelled them quite nicely.”
 
“I don’t recall having ever been to this ‘Orzammar’ but given that there is a great deal about my past that I don’t remember, even just my past from before I was frozen, that might not mean anything,” Shale commented. “Still, if the people of Orzammar are less inclined to make such fragile things then I wouldn’t mind being associated with it.”
 
“I may not know how, exactly, you were made aside from the Anvil of the Void being involved but I know that you came from Orzammar,” Aunn told her. “That is where the Anvil was located before it was lost and Caridin, who created the Anvil, didn’t tell anyone of any other way to create a golem and so I don’t know if it’s even possible.”
 
“Caridin…” Shale repeated slowly. “I think…I’m nearly positive that I’ve heard that name somewhere before. He was a dwarf, you say?”
 
Aunn nodded. “He was. He was the father of all golems, so to speak, and you never would have come into being without him.”
 
“You know, I believe that I’m going to actually look forward to heading to Orzammar, then,” Shale said, sounding quite surprised.
 
“Me too, oddly enough,” Aunn admitted. “Not that that’s going to stop me from putting it off, of course.” She turned away from the golem and headed into the room in front of her where she saw the rest of her companions spread out across the room surrounding Connor who appeared not to notice them.
 
“I’m back,” Aunn announced unnecessarily.
 
“So we see,” Sten agreed. “Did you bring your mages?”
 
Aunn nodded. “They’re downstairs now. I don’t know how long it will take but if we don’t get a sign up here then I suppose that someone will remember us and come find us sooner or later.”
 
“I’m going to go see this ritual,” Morrigan announced before exiting the room.
 
“I would like to talk to you,” Sten told her bluntly.
 
They were already talking, but Aunn figured that he meant a more private conversation than just discussing whatever he wanted to discuss in front of everyone else so she moved over to lean against the wall he was standing by.
 
“Yes?” she prompted.
 
“You found my sword, my Asala,” Sten began.
 
“So I did,” Aunn agreed.
 
“This occurred three days ago and yet I have neglected to thank you and this is inexcusable,” Sten continued. “You have returned my soul to me and have allowed me to return home once this Blight is finished.”
 
Somehow, Aunn knew a faux-modest ‘it was nothing’ wasn’t really the best way to handle this. Since it clearly was something to Sten, and something important at that, it would just end up insulting him. “I am glad I was able to help you,” she replied instead.
 
“Finding a single lost blade in a war-torn country in the middle of a Blight,” Sten marveled, shaking his head. “I had recently begun to think it was sad that you had missed your purpose as a soldier but now I think that you must be an ashkaari.”
 
“An ashkaari?” Aunn repeated, hoping she’d pronounced that right.
 
“Indeed,” Sten confirmed. “I haven’t found an exact translation in your language but ‘an enlightened being that helps others’ comes close enough.”
 
Aunn smiled at him. “Well thank you, Sten, I appreciate that.” She paused. “You really think I missed my calling as a warrior? I do enjoy fighting quite a bit, I’ll admit but following orders…not my thing.”
 
“It would have been easier had you been raised for that,” Sten assured her. “That’s why it is so tragic when someone is given the wrong purpose. It took me awhile to reach this conclusion since you look like a woman.”
 
“I do?” Aunn looked surprised. “I never knew…”
 
“I was confused as well,” Sten said, either not getting her sarcasm or – more likely in Aunn’s opinion – choosing not to indulge it. “You looked like a woman but were clearly a warrior.”
 
“And these two are mutually exclusive, I take it?” Aunn asked dryly.
 
“Yes,” Sten said seriously. “Everything and everyone has a place and a purpose. Men are soldiers, laborers, and ashkaari. Women are priests, artisans, shopkeepers, and farmers.”
 
“Didn’t you just say I reminded you of an ashkaari?” Aunn reminded him.
 
“Once I had accepted you as a soldier, seeing you as an ashkaari was not so much a stretch,” Sten said wryly. “Especially since you found my Asala.”
 
“So did you ever decide whether I was really a woman or not?” Aunn couldn’t help but wonder, morbidly curious despite herself.
 
“I am unsure,” Sten admitted. “In Seheron you would not be but this Ferelden is so…disorderly. They may very well give people the wrong purposes. What I do know is that you are a Kadan.”
 
Not knowing what that meant either but now wanting to have to ask for the second time in only a few minutes, Aunn looked hopefully at Sten.
 
Obligingly, he elaborated. “It’s a term for someone you value highly meaning ‘where the heart lies’.”
 
Feeling that she was almost certainly not grasping how big a deal this was but that it was monumental nonetheless, Aunn nodded respectfully to the qunari. “Kadan it is, then.”
 
Before Sten could say anything in response, Connor’s eyes rolled back in his head and he fell over.
 
“Is the demon doing something?” Wynne cried out, stepping close to the child. She quickly checked him over. “It appears that he’s just unconscious. I think this means the ritual worked.”
 
“I’m going to go check,” Aunn declared, making her way to the door. “If that’s true then Irving will either have already come back or will be on his way back soon.”
 
Aunn hurried past Shale, down the stairs, and back into the large room where the ritual was still taking place. The eleven mages Irving had brought with him were standing in a circle, their eyes pure white as they waved their hands. Irving stood in the center of the circle, completely motionless. Alistair and Leliana were hanging back as they watched the ritual but Morrigan was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps she’d gotten bored of watching? Nothing really seemed to be happening even if Irving were presumably going to come back to reality soon.
 
“Connor lost consciousness,” Aunn announced.
 
“That…that’s a good thing?” Isolde asked uncertainly.
 
“In all likelihood it is,” Aunn confirmed. “He’s not dead so we figured Irving probably had confronted the demon.”
 
“That I did,” Irving confirmed in a low voice.
 
Aunn turned to look at him. He appeared tired but otherwise fine and the mages surrounding him had lowered their arms.
 
“What happened?” Teagan demanded urgently. “You said you confronted the demon? Did you kill it? Is my nephew going to be alright?”
 
“He should be fine,” Irving assured the worried uncle. “There was a boy that had the form of Connor that I had to follow through the Fade. I saw your Arl, Eamon. He seemed confused and worried for Connor but unharmed, though trapped in the Fade.”
 
“That would explain why he won’t wake up,” Isolde said thoughtfully. “The demon did this?”

Irving nodded. “Indeed. I spoke with the boy several times but he kept insisting that I leave and that the demon was helping his father. Eventually, the boy revealed that it was not really your son at all but the demon masquerading as him. She offered to teach me blood magic in exchange for allowing her to keep the child.” The way Irving practically spat out her offer left little doubt what he thought of the demon’s proposal.
 
Still, Isolde had to know for certain. “And…you turned this demon down?”
 
“Of course I did!” Irving told her indignantly. “I wouldn’t be much of a First Enchanter had her proposal tempted me and I can assure you that had I any inclination to learn blood magic, which I don’t, then I wouldn’t need to learn it from a desire demon at the expense of a child’s soul. I turned her down and I struck her down. Whether the demon still exists or not is uncertain but she has gone from your son. I do not know how much of this he will remember but with the knowledge of all the destruction his possession has wrought and a little instruction on the ways of demons, Connor will not prove so easy a target should she or any other demon try again.”
 
“I did not mean to offend,” Isolde apologized. “I just…my son…you have no idea how glad I am to hear this. I must go to him at once!” she declared, promptly turning on her heel and heading up to see the boy.
 
“Thank the Maker that is over with,” Teagan said wearily, rubbing at his nose. “There’s still the matter of Eamon, of course, and whether he still lives now that the demon is gone given that according to Isolde it claimed to be the one keeping my brother alive.”
 
“I don’t know how much this is worth but Jowan said the poison wasn’t supposed to kill the Arl but just to incapacitate him,” Aunn offered. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted Morrigan sneaking back into the room.
 
Teagan frowned. “I’m not sure I’d trust anything that that would-be assassin has to say but…that would actually explain something that’s been bothering me. Eamon fell ill a few weeks before Ostagar. It was one of the reasons he didn’t insist on showing up even though Cailan said they’d be fine without him. I believe Jowan may have been around then and if the entire sickness was due to Jowan…I’m not sure if that’s a better situation or a worse one.”
 
“How so?” Alistair asked, not really following.
 
“On the one hand, it is easy to get your hands on a faster-working poison than whatever Jowan had been dosing Eamon with,” Teagan explained. “It may not have been able to imitate an illness but Jowan really didn’t seem to be thinking of the repercussions of his actions and being caught poisoning Eamon so I doubt he would have insisted on using a slower-acting poison. Besides, if someone had said before Ostagar that Loghain Mac Tir would have had Eamon assassinated – especially the assassin himself – then he would have been laughed out of the room. No one would have bought it.”
 
“I can see why that would point towards Loghain not wanting to kill Arl Eamon,” Alistair grudgingly conceded. “But how would that make the situation worse?”
 
“If the Arl fell ill before Ostagar due to Jowan’s poison then that means that Loghain was planning something that he needed Arl Eamon out of the way for before then,” Leliana realized.
 
Teagan nodded grimly. “Exactly. He claims that he had no choice but to retreat at Ostagar. I don’t know if that’s true. I don’t believe that it is but even if it were then clearly Loghain was up to something nefarious before then.”
 
“Speaking of Jowan,” Irving spoke up. “I had heard that he’s still here?”
 
“Ah, you want to see him then?” Teagan asked rhetorically. “Of course. We still need to decide whether we’re going to decide his fate or leave him for Eamon if, no when he recovers.” He nodded to a pair of guards who left the room to go fetch the errant mage.
 
“I suppose one good thing we can say about this is that we’ve finally got something stranger going on than the situation with Dagna,” one of the younger looking mages mused. “It’s too bad it involved so many abominations but it would almost have to to beat that in terms of strangeness.”
 
“Dagna?” Leliana asked, sensing a story.
 
“Dagna is a dwarf from Orzammar,” Irving informed her. “She’s very…interested in magic. She keeps sending letters asking if she could live at the Tower and study magic.”
 
“Study magic?” Aunn asked blankly. “You mean study the theory of it? She can’t possibly have missed her lack of ability to actually do magic.”
 
“She hasn’t,” Irving confirmed. “She seems very erudite from her letters but the one time we had business in Orzammar since the letters started coming her father wouldn’t tell us where she was and we could not find her on our own. We’ve tried writing her back but from her letters it’s clear she’s never received any replies.”
 
“Would you have allowed her to study up here?” Aunn asked, surprised. “Leaving Orzammar without being a Grey Warden or being sent to the Surface for ambassadorial purposes means that you have to give up your caste and family and even if you come back to visit you’re officially dead to them.”
 
“I had heard that Orzammar was rather…invested in keeping its people within its walls,” Irving said diplomatically. “But if she’s sure that this is what she really wants – and given that we’ve been receiving monthly letters from her for seven years now I think we can safely say that it is – then I would not stop someone who wanted to learn from being given the opportunity.”
 
“We’re going back to Orzammar at some point within the next few weeks,” Aunn revealed. “I can’t promise anything but should I happen across someone named Dagna with an intense interest in magical theory would you like me to tell her you said it’s fine for her to come up and study with you?”
 
“That would be most appreciated,” Irving said gratefully. “I’ll do one better, though: before we leave I’ll write a letter accepting her at the Circle you can deliver if you get the chance.”
 
“Bann Teagan!” one of the guards sent to retrieve Jowan cried out as he ran back into the room. “The prisoner…he’s gone!”
 
“Gone?” Teagan repeated, stunned. “But…how?”
 
“Was there any blood in his cell?” Irving asked sharply. “Jowan was never a very accomplished mage in his own right but blood magic is very, very powerful. If he managed to cut himself then he probably would have been able to flee. That is how he escaped from the Tower, after all, and we’re located in the middle of a lake. If he can get away from there then your dungeon should have given him no trouble.”
 
But the guard was shaking his head. “There was no blood anywhere near his cell, we checked in case someone might have killed him and gotten rid of the body.”
 
“Could he have escaped without blood magic?” Aunn wondered. She actually had her own theory about what had happened that she’d need to talk to Morrigan about later but there was really no need to voice her suspicions to people who would be very displeased to hear them. “Was anyone guarding him?”
 
“No,” Teagan admitted with a frown. “Someone probably should have been but we have so few men up here and we wanted them all to be here in case something happened with Connor…are you suggesting he picked the lock?”
 
“It’s definitely a possibility,” Leliana agreed. “Picking most locks isn’t difficult if you know a few basic tricks. Are the locks in the dungeon anything special?”
 
Teagan shook his head. “No, they’re just basic locks. We’ve never had anyone actually succeed in picking them, although I suppose if anyone had tried a guard would have noticed and put a stop to it.”
 
“And I did hear him saying something about having destroyed his phylactery before escaping the first time,” Morrigan added. “I suppose that should make it a great deal more difficult to use his blood and magic to help you locate him.”
 
Irving stiffened at the rather obvious unspoken accusation that using a mage’s phylactery to hunt them down was blood magic but did not rise to her bait. “Indeed. The Templars will need to be notified first thing. Since he’s already proven himself a danger to himself and others and poisoned an Arl, I imagine that there will be a great many people very eager to fine him.”
 
“He can’t have been gone for long,” Teagan pointed out. “Someone brought him a meal a few hours ago and he was still locked up then.”
 
“When we met him before he didn’t seem all that inclined to escape,” Alistair said thoughtfully. “He actually begged us to let him out so he could try to fix the mess he made by poisoning the Arl so I’m not sure that he even could. Why would he change his mind on leaving? Maybe he realized that it had been long enough for representative the Circle to get here?”
 
“Perhaps,” Teagan said dismissively. “All we can do for now is to put out the word that he’s escaped. He can worry about puzzling over his motivations after we figure out what to do about Eamon.”
 
“And we should probably see if Connor has any lingering effects of his possession once he wakes up,” Alistair suggested.
 
Without further ado, Teagan, Alistair, Leliana, Morrigan, and Aunn headed upstairs to see what the situation was like sans demon possession.
 
Connor was still unconscious but instead of being just left on the floor like everyone else had been content to do, Isolde had his head cradled in her lap with a heartbreaking expression of hope on her face.
 
“Your Arl is still alive,” Zevran announced the minute they entered the room. “We spoke to Connor while he was possessed. He didn’t really seem to get much of what was going on but he did say that ‘she’ wouldn’t let him leave this room as ‘she’ really wanted to stay close to his father and he warned us that if we tried to go into the Arl’s room then he wasn’t sure what she would do. After he collapsed, I went inside and while your Arl won’t wake he does not appear to be dying.”
 
“Now that Connor is alright and Redcliffe is no longer in danger of being destroyed we can focus on reviving Eamon,” Teagan told them in a brusque, business-like tone. “The trouble, of course, is that we don’t know enough of what was done to him and now that Jowan’s fled we can’t even question him on it.”
 
“What’s this?” Isolde demanded, her eyes flashing as she looked up at them. “He’s gone? Of all the…We’ll look for him, of course, but we may not find him in time. We need my husband back now. Since we know so very little we’re still in the same position that we were before. We need to find the Urn of Sacred Ashes.”
 
“Isolde, you know that that’s just a myth, a legend,” Teagan told her, sounding as though he could hardly even believe what she was suggesting.
 
“And all myths and legends have their basis from somewhere,” Isolde stubbornly insisted. “Besides, it’s not like we have any better options.” She turned to Aunn. “You’ve done so much for us already and I will already never be able to repay you for making sure my mistake didn’t cost Connor his life or his mother – for he never would have forgiven himself for that – but if you could, do you think you might be able to look for the Ashes?”
 
Aunn really couldn’t help the smirk that came over her face just then.
 
“Oh, don’t even say it,” Alistair warned her.
 
Aunn blithely ignored that. “And you said going to go find the Urn and retrieving some of the Ashes was a waste of time.”
 
“That’s because it was a waste of time,” Alistair countered. “Just…one that happens to be very useful right now.”
 
“Are you saying…” Teagan trailed off, shaking his head. “You’ve found the Urn of Sacred Ashes?”
 
“Technically, Brother Genitivi found it,” Aunn corrected him. “I’ve got to say, that was a very wise investment on Arl Eamon’s part. We followed his notes to where it was located, however, and rescued him from some insane cultists before passing through a series of tests to reach the Urn. Furthermore, we tested the Ashes and they really work.”
 
“But…how…this is just so…” Teagan sputtered.
 
“Would you really question a miracle, Teagan?” Isolde asked with a smile, sounding warmer than Aunn had ever heard her or – judging by the look on her fellow Warden’s face – even Alistair had for that matter. “Come, let us go revive my husband.” Slowly she stood, still gently cradling he son.
 
“Since he’s your almost-Uncle who raised you and you’re the only reason we’re even here in the first place, I vote that you use your pouch to revive him,” Aunn whispered to Alistair who just rolled his eyes but didn’t refuse which Aunn took to mean that he agreed.
 
“Eamon…” Teagan said, gazing down at his brother. “He looks so much older that he did the last time I saw him. I suppose the poison must have done something to him…or the demon did.”
 
Aunn observed the comatose Arl dispassionately. He did look rather old and feeble just lying there like that. He didn’t appear to be in particularly good health but given that he’d been poisoned that was hardly surprising. He was dying at any rate which was always a good thing. His hair and beard was a dark gray color – and not a bad attempt for a human – and there were numerous stress lines on his face. Aunn wondered how old he really was since Teagan seemed surprised to see him looking even this old. Her father had looked much older at fifty but given he’d been the King of Orzammar for decades that was hardly surprising and Lord Harrowmont, a full decade older than her father, had appeared to be much younger than him.
 
“When we tested the Ashes it was on a wound sustained from fighting a dragon,” Alistair declared, taking Aunn’s ‘advice’ and using his own pouch of Ashes. “We just put some Ashes on the wound and it disappeared but since this is poison we’re dealing with and there is no obvious wound to apply it to, I recommend having him ingest some.”
 
Glancing at Teagan and Isolde who both nodded their approval, Alistair tilted Eamon’s head back and dropped a pinch of the Ashes into his mouth. “Now…we wait.”
 
Connor began stirring in his mother’s arms and Isolde started, nearly dropping the boy.
 
“Mother?” Connor asked, sounding both sleeping and confused. “What’s going on? What happened to the bad woman? Is father okay?”
 
Isolde very carefully set her child on the ground. “Your father is still alive, yes, and with any luck he will be waking up shortly. We’re waiting for him to do that and that bad woman is gone. She won’t be able to hurt you anymore.”
 
A shadow crossed Connor’s face. “But…she did hurt others, didn’t she? And she made me do it. I don’t even remember everything but…people died. Because of me.”
 
“You put your trust in a demon and that was foolish,” Morrigan told him bluntly. “They will never make a deal with a mortal that is worth it in the end. Still, you did not know that and you are fortunate in that you will live to learn exactly how foolish your actions were.”
 
As far as Morrigan went, that was actually fairly comforting but from the twin glares Isolde and Wynne sent her they did not agree.
 
“A lot of people are dead, yes,” Isolde reluctantly admitted, probably because the damage had been too great for her to be able to successfully hide it from him for long. “But it wasn’t your fault, of course. You were just trying to help your father.”
 
“At the Cirlce, he will learn how to avoid the temptations of demons,” Wynne said gently. “It’s likely that he didn’t even realize what he was dealing with until the bargain had been struck.”
 
Isolde froze. “I…that is hardly something to concern ourselves with right now. There is a civil war going on and a Blight on top of that. No one is going to be sent anywhere until this is all worked out.” Aunn got the feeling that should Connor be sent to the Cirlce Isolde, living so close as it was, would be a frequent guest there. No, Connor would not feel abandoned even if the Ferelden laws of inheritance apparently required that Eamon would need to find a new heir.
 
“What made her go away?” Connor wanted to know.
 
“There was a ritual, Connor,” Isolde replied, eager to speak of more pleasant subjects. “The Grey Warden Aunn went all the way to the Circle Tower to bring back mages to come save you and one of them, Irving, went into the Fade and forced the demon to leave.” Ah, yes, again with the ‘Aunn did it’ instead of ‘Aunn and Alistair.’ While Alistair had been eager to place her in charge, he was still a Grey Warden and Isolde was rather pointedly skipping over his involvement. It seemed she really did resent his very existence, didn’t she?
 
Connor’s eyes met hers. “Well…I don’t remember but thank you for saving me and I’m sorry if I did anything bad to you.”
 
“Don’t worry about it,” Aunn said, making a half-hearted attempt to be comforting. “I’m fine.”
 
“I am so glad you’re alright,” Teagan said, moving swiftly from his brother’s side to his nephew’s and sweeping him up in a big hug. “You have no idea how worried we’ve been.”
 
“I’m sorry,” Connor said again, burying his face in his uncle’s shoulder.
 
Eamon began coughing then. Teagan set Connor down and the pair of them along with Isolde rushed back to the bed.
 
“Teagan?” Eamon asked, puzzled. His voice sounded rusty from lack of use in the weeks since he’d been poisoned. “What are you doing here?”
 
“I came to Redcliffe to tell you of Loghain’s regency in the wake of Cailan’s death but there were…complications,” Teagan said wryly.
 
“Cailan’s dead?” Eamon asked, his eyebrows shooting up.
 
“You hadn’t heard? I see that explaining what’s been going on will take a lot longer than I had thought that it would,” Teagan murmured.
 
“I had this dream…where is Isolde?” Eamon demanded suddenly.
 
“I’m right here, Eamon,” Isolde said, grabbing one of her husband’s hands and clutching it in her own.
 
“And Connor? Is he alright?” Eamon pressed, not yet relaxing. “I was looking for him but I couldn’t find him. Something was wrong…”
 
“I’m okay now, Father,” Connor assured him. “There was a demon but she’s gone now.”
 
“A demon?” Eamon repeated faintly. “Did Jowan do that, too?”
 
“Not exactly,” Alistair spoke up. “Connor accidentally got possessed after Jowan poisoned you so I suppose you could say that it is his fault, but only accidentally.”
 
“I’m going to kill him,” Eamon growled.
 
“That might be easier said than done given he’s escaped,” Alistair replied.
 
Eamon’s brow furrowed. “Wait…Alistair? Is that you? What are you doing here?”
 
“It’s a long story but we need your help,” Alistair said earnestly. “Loghain killed Cailan and has now gone mad with power and is trying to let the darkspawn kill us so the Orlesians can’t take over the country.”
 
“That’s…one way of looking at it certainly,” Aunn remarked. “It’s not quite as bad as all that, I don’t think, although Loghain is now the regent and we do need your help if we want to stop the Blight.”
 
Eamon looked back and forth between the two. “Perhaps you’d better start at the beginning…”
 
 

[Raonar]

You know, I definitely approve of not having all the other potential wardens disappear into thin air. Having Surana and Amell alive actually sat well with me (yes, I am commenting on a previous chapter, so sue me)

And I approve of someone FINALLY blurting it to Irving that phylacteries are a form of blood magic.

Modifié par Raonar, 31 juillet 2010 - 04:53 .

[Sarah1281]

Raonar wrote...

You know, I definitely approve of not having all the other potential wardens disappear into thin air. Having Surana and Amell alive actually sat well with me (yes, I am commenting on a previous chapter, so sue me)

And I approve of someone FINALLY blurting it to Irving that phylacteries are a form of blood magic.

Since my Surana wouldn't have anything to do with Jowan's idiocy and my Amell is the type of person who never really has to face the consequences of their actions, I figured it would either be showing up or becoming two of the abominations you have to kill in the tower and that would be quite an inglorious end.

I do wonder what the Chantry's thought process is on justifying phylactories. Using blood to power spells at all seems to qualify something as blood magic and it's the mage you're looking for's blood that seems to power the spell to track them. Knowing them, they've left a huge loophole for using phylactories so that no one can call them on it but still.

[Sarah1281]

This was done by Nonvita. The piece had four other characters in it as well, but since only this one is mine it's all I'm including.

These two are by Payroo. The top is a family portrait and the bottom is Aunn and Gorim sneaking away from a feast for some alone time.

[Sarah1281]

Chapter Nineteen: Turns Out the Son of a King is a Prince


It took over an hour to explain to Eamon everything he had missed and it probably would have taken longer if Morrigan hadn’t threatened to turn him into a toad if he didn’t stop interrupting to complain about Loghain. Eamon had asked to be alone to consider recent events before they discussed their next move and so Aunn was waiting in the library, studying a map of Ferelden intensely. Zevran had told her that the Dalish elves preferred large forests and so the Brecilian Forest seemed like their best bet to find a clan. Apparently once one clan was convinced to help them then they could contact more of their people and the Dalish rarely turned down a request for aid when it came from one of their own.
 
The door to the library creaked open and Aunn automatically tensed. While there was technically nothing to fear now that the demon was gone, staying in a castle formerly overrun by the undone left her a little on edge. There was nothing to worry about however – well, probably – as Connor stuck his head in. Seeing that she was alone, he ventured further in.
 
“Hello,” he said nervously. “You’re Aunn, right? The Grey Warden?”
 
“One of them, yes,” Aunn confirmed. “Why?”
 
“Mother said that you saved me,” Connor answered. “Like I said, I don’t remember much but what I do…it’s not good. There are so many dead…nearly everyone in the castle and a lot of people from the village, too. Everyone says it wasn’t my fault but if it weren’t for me, there wouldn’t have been a demon.”
 
“Everyone makes mistakes,” Aunn began. Feeling that was rather inadequate, she continued, “Granted, getting possessed by a demon who then attempts to completely decimate Redcliffe and that partially succeeds is a pretty big mistake but Connor…how old are you?”
 
“Twelve,” came the slightly defensive reply.
 
“Twelve…” Aunn repeated, shaking her head. She couldn’t imagine dealing with anything like this when she was that age or several years older and yet he seemed to be handling it remarkably well. Of course, who knew if he were really coping well or just putting on a brave front. “Connor, I’m nearly twice as old as you, did you know that?”
 
Connor shook his head, clearly wondering what that had to do with anything.
 
“It’s only been three years since people have stopped seeing me like a child and until a few months again, everyone was very determined to make sure that I never got up to anything dangerous. Sound familiar?” Aunn inquired.
 
Connor began to nod vehemently then stopped. “It wasn’t enough.”
 
“Parents – particularly noble parents like yours and mine since they have the means to do it more – always want to protect their children,” Aunn said seriously. “They don’t always succeed. The way the Chantry handles mages is far from perfect and so once your mother found out that you were one, she didn’t want to admit it. She tried to get you some training so that you wouldn’t be found out and wouldn’t accidentally hurt someone but she put her trust in the wrong person. I know you don’t want to hear this, but you are just a child, Connor. It’s the job of your parents and other adults to take care of you. Yes, you were the one to ultimately fall for the demon’s deception that led to all of this destruction but the adults in your life should never have let you get into a position to be so unaware and for that demon.”
 
Connor was quiet for a long while. “You’re right,” he said at last. “I don’t want to hear that it wasn’t my fault. I don’t believe it and no matter how many times I hear it I don’t think I will believe it. Still…there might be something to what you said. I wasn’t the only one who messed up. Thank you.”
 
“I’m glad I was able to help you,” Aunn said sincerely. She hadn’t intended to identify so strongly (and perhaps over-identify, she wasn’t sure) with the Guerrin family when she’d caved in and came here at Alistair’s insistence but here was the first noble family she had ever met that had actually legitimately placed the other members of their family above themselves no matter what the consequences – although that had not always proven to be the best course of action – and openly cared for each other. Given her own severe issues with her own family and their willingness to kill each other and overlook such deaths for their own ends, how could she not? She had wanted so badly to give this human House the happy ending her own would never achieve. It had been a terrible risk but in the end being reckless had paid off. If she hadn’t then Isolde or Connor wouldn’t be with them still and, in addition to the fact she always would have wondered if she could have saved them, it would not have put them in the best position with Teagan or Eamon.
 
Connor reached into his pocket and pulled out a letter. “When I was thanking the First Enchanter for going into the Fade and confronting the demon for me, he gave me this to give to you. He said he was about to leave and that this would help you convince someone of something when you got to Orzammar.”
 
“Ah, Dagna’s letter,” Aunn realized, accepting it. “Thank you for delivering that.”
 
“You’re welcome,” Connor replied. Unlike most people, he didn’t seem thrown off by a little common courtesy, probably because he would have been raised to employ it himself just as she had. He glanced nervously towards the door. “I’ve really got to go. Mother starts to worry when she can’t see me for more than a few minutes.”
 
He walked back over to the door and opened it. “What?” he asked, speaking to someone she couldn’t see in the hall. “Oh, she’s in here.”
 
Aunn frowned. Connor was clearly referring to her but who was looking for her? She got her answer when Wynne came into the room. She held back a groan. She had been doing such a nice job of avoiding the old woman and her ‘oh, why won’t you answer such a simple question like whether or not you blame yourself for your brother’s death?’ Still, she supposed she knew that it could not go on forever.
 
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Wynne said, sitting down on the chair across from Aunn and making it very clear that she wasn’t about to be deterred no matter what she was interrupting.
 
Aunn forced a smile. “Not at all, Wynne.”
 
“Good. I feel like we haven’t really gotten a chance to talk since I joined the group,” Wynne began. “I’ve spent plenty of time getting to know Alistair but not much with you and as the leader of the group that strikes me as a little worrying. I hope you won’t mind me asking a few questions.”
 
As it happened, Aunn would rather stab herself than answer any more of Wynne’s ‘simple’ questions. “Be my guest.”
 
“Tell me, how did you become a Grey Warden?” Wynne began.
 
Aunn stiffened slightly. She had made it very clear when she’d told Alistair and Morrigan the tale that one of them was supposed to let everyone who joined up with them after that know what had happened. Wynne had been with them for a few weeks now. How was it possible that he – for Morrigan had been pretty upfront about her lack of desire to do that – hadn’t had time to tell her? “You don’t know?” she asked carefully.
 
“No, I do,” Wynne assured her. “I just wanted to hear it from you.”
 
“You heard it from Alistair, then, who heard it from me,” Aunn replied, her tone cold. “I am not going to repeat it here because you want to see what my version says about me or whatever else your reason may be.”
 
“I suppose that’s fair,” Wynne accepted grudgingly. “It’s strange to think that we’re travelling with a Princess. I suppose Alistair’s father was a King as well but he was never acknowledged while you were raised as royalty so it’s not quite the same. Still, you can no longer have a title, can you?”
 
Aunn frowned. “What do you mean ‘can no longer’ have a title? While it is true that I currently don’t have one and may very well never have one again, there’s nothing but my exile – which is more of a political matter than something that makes me incapable of gaining one – that would prevent me from having one. It may just be a matter of semantics, but not happening to have one and being incapable of possessing one are two very different things.”
 
“I wasn’t really talking about your exile,” Wynne explained. “You’re a Grey Warden and that means that you cannot have a title.”
 
Aunn snorted. “Really? I do not claim to know enough of Surface politics to know whether Ferelden or even all the Surface lands have a law in place preventing Grey Wardens from carrying titles but I was never a Surface Princess. In Orzammar, not only would being a Grey Warden not prevent me from carrying a title but it would be the only thing letting me keep one if I ventured up here.”
 
“It’s not a law in any nation I’ve heard of that stops a Grey Warden from holding a title,” Wynne conceded, “but it is a Grey Warden policy. They are called upon to give up their past lives – and their titles are a rather big part of that – to serve the greater good.”


“Wynne, I’m going to be honest with you here,” Aunn said flatly. “I am not looking to be a hero of legend. I am not looking to be some pinnacle of virtue and self-sacrifice. I am not looking to be a Grey Warden ideal. I am looking to do my job and end the Blight and should I survive that I don’t know what I’ll be doing but I can assure you that it will not be living a life dedicated to helping others at the expense of myself. I get too easily frustrated with those who cannot or will not help themselves to ever think I could be someone who did that. For better or for worse, that’s simply not who I am.”
 
“That’s what being a Grey Warden means to you?” Wynne couldn’t believe it. “Just stopping the Blight?”
 
“And killing quite a few darkspawn on my way to do it, yes,” Aunn confirmed. “Isn’t that what the order was founded to do? Fight darkspawn and end the Blight? No matter where I go when this is over I can’t possibly ignore the darkspawn but making an effort to fight them does not mean living as a Grey Warden forever and helping to rebuild or recruit or whatever else that people that I’ve never met and whose authority I do not respect would have me do. Should a miracle occur and I could go home, fighting darkspawn would almost have to be a part no matter what kind of a person I was.”
 
“Well, yes, technically you’re right. But…that’s not all that a Grey Warden is!” Wynne protested. “It is about serving others, no matter who they are. It is the guardian who serves those that she guards and not the other way around, after all.”
 
“And since when are you such a great expert on the Grey Wardens, Wynne?” Aunn asked pointedly.
 
Wynne flushed. “I never claimed to be. I’ve heard the legends, of course-”
 
“So have I,” Aunn cut her off. “And I rather expect I have a better idea of what a threat the darkspawn pose than you do. Did you know that the day I was exiled I was sent into a section of the Deep Roads that had been completely cleared of darkspawn only two days before? You wouldn’t have known it by the way the place was crawling with them. You clear out one section and they’re back just as strong within forty-eight hours. It’s a rather disheartening fact and it makes our efforts seem futile but they’re important because without periodic Deep Roads cleansing than who knows how many darkspawn would be near Orzammar or if they would have moved against the city itself.”
 
“I’m not denying that you understand the darkspawn threat,” Wynne attempted to mollify her. “I’m just trying to explain that there is more to be a Grey Warden than that.”
 
Aunn sighed. “Look, if you’re going to get all philosophical on me and start waxing poetic on how it’s the duty of those with power to look after those who don’t have it then I’ve heard it all before. My father is a King, after all, and he’s told me those same things but more in a manner that I felt he knew what he was talking about than you’re doing. Being a Grey Warden is not about making everyone’s life better unless you count keeping them from being swallowed up by the Blight as that, in which case I suppose you could say that.”
 
Wynne pursed her lips but said nothing.
 
“In case you haven’t noticed, I am rather going out of my way here and other people’s lives have improved. If I didn’t, though, if I had a legitimate reason to need to kill, say, every villager in Redcliffe or every mage in the Tower personally in order to better defend against the Blight then that would also be a part of being a Grey Warden and far more so than thinking that we’re some kind Paragons here. Individual Wardens may be and that’s certainly the impression we’re trying to give Ferelden right now to combat Loghain’s accusations but you know what the position of the Grey Wardens as a whole is?” Aunn asked.
 
Wynne shook her head, looking like she was trying very hard not to say something biting.
 
“ ‘Whatever it takes.’ Now, as Duncan and the others died within a few weeks of our association and they refused to share much with someone who had yet to become a Warden and Alistair is still new to the Wardens as well, I don’t claim to be an expert on them either. Maybe their ‘whatever it takes’ credo still draws a line somewhere but as we have no experts here we’ll have to rely on our own discretion. I do know that any order that is willing to burn down an entire town and thus kill everyone trapped inside in order to stop the potential spread of the taint isn’t ever going to be the great heroes you’re looking for, Wynne,” Aunn concluded. “And I would really appreciate it if you could stop relying on me to live out your romantic notions of how a legendary Warden ought to be.”
 
“I can set that my advice isn’t welcome,” Wynne said frostily as she stood and marched towards the door without looking back.
 
Aunn sighed. That had been far more than she should have said. The whole point was for people to think as Wynne did about the Wardens and so correctly them was hardly in her best interest. Just the same, Wynne probably wouldn’t desert them because she didn’t like Aunn – particularly given how fond she was of Alistair – and so it wouldn’t be the end of the world. Aunn doubted that Wynne even believed her view of the Grey Wardens but rather accepted that she didn’t fit the mold of what the ‘real’ Grey Wardens were like.
 
Normally, Aunn preferred those that followed her to at least respect her if not outright like her but Wynne…she could not stand Wynne. She hadn’t really had much of an opinion on the elderly mage prior to going through the gauntlet other than finding her ideals to be a tad excessive and mildly irritating. Once Wynne had turned judgmental at her very real, very private issues and her refusal to share them with people she barely knew, she hadn’t been able to stand her. It wasn’t rational, certainly, but she didn’t feel Alistair’s Loghain-hate was rational either and that wasn’t about to stop him. She at least tolerated if not outright liked everyone else in her group but Wynne…
 
Even had she not put herself very firmly on Aunn’s bad side with her hasty judgments regarding the guardian and the question of whether or not she had failed Trian, it was likely that the pair wouldn’t have gotten along anyway. Aunn was simply not the Grey Warden Wynne felt that she should be. Aunn was a Grey Warden because she had undertaken the Joining. She was a Grey Warden because she was planning on stopping the Blight. She was a Grey Warden because she was committed to fighting darkspawn. She was not a Grey Warden because she intended to play the part of a martyr and sacrifice herself for others. If other people didn’t like that, then too bad. They could become a Warden themselves and do it ‘properly.’ It was always easier to expect something of others that you weren’t willing to do yourself. 
 
Wynne fit a mold Aunn had seen many times before. People always assumed that age equaled wisdom and experience. If someone lived longer they usually had a better chance to have experience and achieve wisdom, true, but just because someone hadn’t died by the time they were fifty didn’t mean they necessary had. Ser Blackstone had been so certain he could take her down before their match had even started because he was twice her age and Wynne had assumed she was desperately longing for a mentor for much the same reasons. Both were wrong, of course. Ser Blackstone had been easier to beat than Adal Helmi and Aunn yet had to see anything that made her think Wynne had any wisdom to impart at all. She certainly seemed to think she did but then she was also convinced that she had an affinity for the Fade despite evidence to the contrary. Wynne spoke with authority and yet everything she said Aunn had heard before. Was the ability to spout platitudes and sound knowledgeable really was wisdom was all about? Aunn rather doubted it but if she was wrong and it was then she frankly wanted no part of it.
 
Intellectually, she knew she was being rather hard on the mage and perhaps even unfair but she really wasn’t in the mood to care. Yes, Wynne didn’t have to volunteer to help them – even if her motives did appear to be mostly to get out of the Circle that had needed her help – but they didn’t have to like each other and Aunn was positive that after their confrontation Wynne didn’t like her any more than she liked Wynne. As long as they could keep it civil most of the time then they should be fine. Even Alistair and Morrigan were fine and didn’t let their animosity get in the way of their mission and they were openly hostile! Yes, she shouldn’t have said what she did – even if she felt it was true and maybe now Wynne would take her lectures elsewhere – but she didn’t think there would be any lasting harm and she honestly couldn’t bring herself to regret any of it.
 
A few minutes passed in blissful silence as Aunn continued to pore over the lap before Morrigan’s voice rang out. “I passed Wynne on my way here and she certainly looked as though someone told her how little her oh-so-helpful advice was wanted. That was you, I presume?”
 
“It might have been,” Aunn admitted. “Were you the one who let Jowan out?”
 
“It was just too pathetic seeing him like that,” Morrigan responded. “He was a blood mage, he had power and yet he allowed them to cage him thus while they summoned the sheep of the Circle to take him back to the Templars! I could hardly sit idly by and allow such a thing. I did go down to see him and opened the door but in the end he was the one who chose to throw off his shackles and pursue freedom.”
 
Aunn nodded. “I thought so. That was reckless, particularly if he continues to be as inept as I’ve heard but if he’s caught he’ll probably know better than to blame us and I suppose Caunira and Angélique will be glad that he’s managed to finally escape. I know I’m certainly not going to turn you in.”
 
“Yes, I knew you’d be more sensible about it then that fool would,” Morrigan sniffed, clearly referring to Alistair. “And speaking of, the Arl wants to see you and him to discuss what complicated strategy they have for taking on Loghain since they won’t simply find him and kill him.”
 
“Yes, Ferelden is just strange like that,” Aunn remarked dryly. She gathered up her things and followed Morrigan down to the room she had first found an addled Teagan performing for his possessed nephew in. Eamon was there looking solemn as well as a relieved Teagan who couldn’t take his eyes off his brother. Isolde was nowhere in sight but if Connor’s words were any indication then she’d probably be with him and such a strategy meeting was really no place for a child. Alistair was also standing by and he nodded to her as she arrived with Morrigan.
 
“Ferelden’s really fallen apart since I was poisoned, hasn’t it?” Eamon asked rhetorically. “Cailan dead, a Blight stirring, a civil war breaking out, Loghain declaring himself the regent and the Grey Wardens traitors…I know the Wardens that Maric let back into the country were all from Orlais but deciding they must all be here to destroy us – especially when the only two left are a dwarf from Orzammar and Alistair – is rather taking it too far.”
 
“Something must be done,” Teagan said grimly. “Or we won’t need to wait for the darkspawn to destroy us.”
 
“It seems to me that this all started when Loghain bypassed the Landsmeet to declare himself Anora’s replacement,” Eamon said slowly. “That was a mistake. Anora might have been able to keep the throne with Loghain’s support as Cailan left no heirs but now there’s no way they’ll accept the Mac Tir’s essentially stealing the throne. The only real way to settle this seems to be a Landsmeet. Even should Loghain win it will help the nation as it means that his regency will have legitimacy.” He paused then continued dryly, “That said, I would rather he not win or we may all be hung as traitors to the Crown.”
 
“Then you’ll challenge Anora’s claim yourself?” Alistair asked hopefully.
 
Eamon shook his head ruefully. “If I could, I would but that would cause problems. I’m popular, so is Anora. She’s the widow of the former King, I’m the brother of the wife of the King before that. It could be done, theoretically, but it’s a very weak argument and we’ve got one better.”
 
Teagan started. “You don’t mean…Alistair?”
 
“You are so lucky the guardian told us before this moment,” Aunn muttered to Alistair who stood frozen in shock.
 
“He’s an unrecognized bastard with no legitimate claim to the throne and no formal training, true,” Eamon conceded, “and so he’s not the perfect candidate either but he will have others around to advise him until he can rule on his own and it’s not like anybody will be able deny he’s Maric’s son.”
 
“What?” Alistair burst out, suddenly finding himself able to move again. “I don’t even…doesn’t anybody care about how I feel about this? About the fact that the years I’ve been told that I was not an heir to the throne and couldn’t be in a position of leadership are being overturned just like that?”
 
Eamon looked at him seriously. “Of course it does, Alistair. We can hardly make you King if you refuse the position before the Landsmeet, after all. Tell me, do you want to see the Blight stopped? Do you think that a united Ferelden is the chance we have of doing that? Do you really want to see Loghain profit by what he’s done and keep his ill-gotten throne?”
 
“I…” Alistair started to say. He slumped. “No, no I don’t. Would it really have to be me, though? If no one has a legitimate claim to the throne then it’s about politics and who people like more, right? Wouldn’t you be a far stronger candidate than me?”
 
“If I support you then all those who would support me will also support you,” Eamon explained. “They’ll know that I’ll be here to help you with any problems you might have in your first years of ruling. I’m also not getting any younger, Alistair, and my son is a mage. If Isolde and I have any more children there’s no guarantee that they won’t end up mages as well. That’s hardly the ideal start to a new line of Kings. Not to mention that while there are some that don’t feel that blood is the only deciding factor – and to some extent I agree as I wouldn’t even think of suggesting this if I thought you wouldn’t be able to handle it – there are plenty of others that see the Theirin bloodline as a powerful symbol dating back to the founding of Ferelden and would not see it so easily lost one generation after we saved it from the Orlesians.”
 
Alistair frowned uncertainly. “You really think I can do this?”
 
“I do,” Eamon confirmed. “Just look at what you’ve managed to accomplish so far. You’ve dealt with whatever demon infestation the Circle Tower was facing, enlisted their help against the Blight, found the Urn of Sacred Ashes and procured some with which you revived me, saved Redcliffe from a plague of the undead, saved Connor from his possession without needing to sacrifice Isolde to do it, and have a plan to gather more allies.”
 
“I hardly did it alone,” Alistair objected.
 
“No one ever does,” Eamon pointed out. “And you won’t be left alone once you take the throne, either, Alistair. No one wants to see you fail here. The stakes are simply far too high.”
 
Alistair was quiet for a moment as he considered Eamon’s words. Finally, he sighed heavily. “If this is really what it takes to stop Loghain and save Ferelden then I’ll do it.”
 
“Excellent,” Eamon said, clapping his hands together. “Of course, I’ve been out of the action for quite some time and Loghain’s had time to set his plans in motion so it will take a few weeks to find out more about the situation and to rally my allies to prepare for the Landsmeet. That should give you enough time to work something out with Orzammar and the Dalish. When that’s done, I’ll be waiting here and, if all goes well, we can head to Denerim for the Landsmeet together.”
 

 
Fortunately, the were persistent rumors of the Dalish camping out in the Brecilian Forest but as they were said to never stay in the same place for long and so they all wanted to hurry up and get to the forest before the elves left. Teagan was sorry to see Alistair go but he, like Eamon, had much to do to prepare to challenge the regent and he knew how important the Grey Wardens’ mission was.
 
As they were passing through the Bannorn on their way to the Brecilian Forest, however, they came across an older man looking deeply unhappy as he tried to reason with some soldiers who clearly weren’t buying whatever he was telling them.
 
“Unless I’m much mistaken that’s one of Cailan’s honor guards,” Wynne revealed. “I can’t remember his name, though, for the life of me…”
 
“One of Cailan’s men?” Alistair asked, pulling out his sword. “Then these men must be Loghain’s!”
 
“Or, you know, one of his allies,” Aunn pointed out. “Or they could even be after him for a completely unrelated reason.”
 
It was too late, though, as Alistair charged the men. The leader looked up, saw a fight about to start, and quickly stabbed the former honor guard in the stomach. There weren’t even enough guards for each of the group to have their own and so within a few minutes they were free to focus on the stabbed honor guard.
 
Aunn was hardly an expert on human or even dwarven physiology but it was clear that the man before them was dying.
 
He looked weakly up at them. “Please…tell me you’re not one of them.”
 
As he clearly didn’t have much time left, Aunn refrained from pointing out the rather obvious fact that if they were with the people who had stabbed him then they wouldn’t have attacked and killed them. “We’re not,” she assured him. “Who were those men and why were they attacking you?”
 
“They were Bann Loren’s men,” the man revealed. “He’s one of Loghain’s allies despite his wife and son having been up in Highever when they died. My name is Elric Maraigne. I was one of King Cailan’s honor guards at Ostagar. The battle couldn’t have been won, though-”
 
“Yes it could have,” Alistair growled. “Let’s not go making excuses for Loghain.”
 
“Even King Cailan didn’t think so,” Elric continued as if he hadn’t heard Alistair.
 
“…Really?” Aunn asked uncertainly. That hadn’t been the impression she’d had.
 
Elric shook his head. “No, that was just him putting on a brave face for the men. He had a lockbox full of letters and other things he didn’t want falling into the wrong hands when he fell. He gave the key to me and told me to keep the contents safe for him. I…I deserted, though. I should have given my life for my King’s but we all knew there was no hope and I had to keep the key safe from the darkspawn or the Orlesians or…or anybody else who might try to take it!”
 
There really was no point in judging a dying man even if he was clearly projecting his own insecurities onto Cailan. “Do you still have the key?” Aunn inquired.
 
Elric reached shaking fingers into his pocket and pulled out a small silver key. “Here it is. Please, it’s at Ostagar. If you can find the chest, if you can keep what’s inside safe…it may be a matter of Ferelden security!”
 
“We’ll make sure that no one unsavory gets the key,” Aunn promised.
 
Elric wasn’t dead yet but he was fading fast and so Leliana knelt down and prayed with him until he passed.
 
“Are we going to do this?” Alistair asked. “Return to Ostagar? Getting these papers sounds important but no one should be able to open the chest without this key, right?”
 
“Someone could always take the chest and then find some other way to get it open,” Zevran pointed out. “Maybe your average lock-picker couldn’t do it but if what’s inside is so important then surely they could enlist the help of some experts.”
 
“I suppose that’s true,” Alistair said grudgingly. “But the darkspawn have swallowed up Ostagar. Surely there won’t be anyone who would use these documents against Ferelden there yet.”
 
“You’re probably right,” Aunn told him. “And I’m not sure they’d know that there are highly sensitive documents left behind there. Just the same, we shouldn’t put it off for too long as the minute the darkspawn recede they’ll be at risk from scavengers, if nothing else. We may not have time right now but when we do we should go see what’s become of Ostagar. It should give us a far better idea of what kind of future we’ll be facing if we fail.”
 

 
“Are you sure we’re going the right way?” Shale demanded. “We’ve passed that tree before.”
 
“I know where I’m going,” Zevran insisted. “Sometimes you need to wander around for awhile before the Dalish decide to grace you with their presence. When I last encountered a clan they saw fit to leave me wandering about for nearly two days before they revealed themselves to me.”
 
“So you annoyed them into showing themselves?” Morrigan asked archly.
 
“I suppose that that’s certainly one way of looking at it, yes,” Zevran confirmed.
 
There was a rustle of leaves and suddenly three Dalish hunters stood before them, or at least Aunn assumed that they were Dalish. They were certainly elven and had very elaborate facial tattoos which made Aunn wince in sympathy. Those really looked like they hurt but, like with the brands forced on the casteless, it seemed like a good way to identify a group existing outside of mainstream society. The difference, of course, being that the Dalish appeared to live apart by choice not by the misfortune of their birth.
 
“See? I told you I knew what I was doing,” Zevran bragged. Aunn wondered if it was a coincidence that they had shown themselves after Zevran had declared his intention to annoy them by stumbling around their forest until they did or if these hunters were just trying to save themselves a potential headache.
 
“Halt, outsiders,” the woman in charge ordered, holding up her hand in emphasis. “The Dalish have camped here. I strongly recommend that you go elsewhere.”
 
“We’ve actually been looking for the Dalish,” Leliana spoke up.
 
The woman looked highly skeptical. “Oh really? Most of you are shemlen and it’s hard to believe we could have business with you. One of you is of my kind, true, but not one of us although I could swear that I’ve seen him somewhere before...”
 
“Seen me?” Zevran asked, far too innocently to be believed. “Why, the very thought! Until I saw you I did not truly believe that the Dalish even existed!”
 
“Weren’t you telling your friends you’d encountered Dalish before?” the woman asked suspiciously.
 
Zevran shrugged. “I was just trying to make myself seem more knowledgeable. A terrible thing to do, truly.”
 
“If you say so…” the woman said, sounding disbelieving. “Your leader is, oddly enough, a durgen’len.”
 
“What’s a durgen’len?” Aunn asked neutrally, wondering if she should be insulted or not. She hated having to ask but consoled herself that it wasn’t as if she had ever had any opportunity to hear whatever elven language that word was a part of before. Of course, if it were an insult then there was really no guarantee she’d get an accurate translation but that was just a risk that she would have to take. She knew that ‘shemlen’ meant ‘quick children’ although why elves called humans that was beyond her. It was probably a cultural thing anyway.
 
“It means child of the stone,” the woman explained. “And it is how my people refer to dwarves.”
 
Well that wasn’t so bad. She had met plenty of humans who didn’t seem to be aware of that aspect of dwarven culture and yet these Dalish were apparently so aware of it and its importance that that was how they referred to her entire species. That was definitely a point in these people’s favor.
 
“And I’m not even sure what that is,” the woman said, gesturing to Shale.
 
“I am a golem,” Shale said proudly. “I hate birds and like to crush things.”
 
The woman gave her a strange look. “I see. I honestly don’t see what business any of you have with us or why we should concern ourselves with your worries.”
 
“I am a Grey Warden and I need to speak with your leader,” Aunn informed her.
 
The woman’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “A Grey Warden? That would certainly warrant an audience with our Keeper…if you’re telling the truth? Why should I believe you?”
 
“Seriously?” Alistair groaned. “We need to start making Grey Warden badges or membership cards so this kind of things doesn’t happen.”
 
“Do many people go around pretending to be a Grey Warden?” Aunn asked, honestly curious. She’d never had anyone outright unwilling to believe her before. Well, there had been Murdock, he supposed, but he hadn’t really cared one way or another and had just pointed out that he had no way of knowing. Perhaps there was something in Alistair’s badge idea after all?
 
“Well…no…” the woman admitted. “And I suppose that if you’re not the Keeper can handle it well enough. Very well, follow me and I will take you to our camp. My name is Mithra and I’d advise you to remember while there that my people are largely hunters and will have our arrows trained on you at all times.”
 
“Sensible,” Sten declared approvingly.
 
“To think that we’re really going to find the Dalish,” Wynne said wonderingly, shaking her head in amazement as they began to follow their Dalish escorts.
 
“Have you always wanted to meet a Dalish clan or something?” Alistair asked her.
 
“Not me, per se,” Wynne replied. “Aneirin – you remember me mentioning him? My former apprentice who fled the Tower? – always had a fascination with them. He said that one day he’d find them and go live with them. It seems…wrong, somehow, that I’m living out his dream of meeting the Dalish given the not inconsequential part I played in his death.”
 
“Aneirin?” Mithra asked, making not even a cursory attempt to pretend that she hadn’t been eavesdropping on them. “We have an Aneirin in our clan. He came to us some time ago as a child, really, from the human realm. He spends most of his time in the forest but, provided that you are being upfront about your identities and your intentions, you may get a chance to meet with him and see if it’s the same one you once knew.”
 
“Oh, I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Wynne protested, suddenly flustered. “It’s been so long and it’s probably not even the same one. Aneirin is probably the ‘Thomas’ of elves.”
 
“It really isn’t,” Mithra told her, looking annoyed at her presumption. “But suit yourself, shem.”
 
“I really think you should take this chance, Wynne,” Alistair said earnestly. “It may very well be as you say and it’s someone completely different but in that case you’ve lost nothing because you already believed him to be dead. What if you’re wrong, though, and it is him? Could you really not take this chance to find out one way or another?”
 
“I…you may be right,” Wynne admitted. “I don’t know, though. The thought that my hasty actions may not have killed him and might very well have actually given him a better life is too much to hope for, too painful to see that hope shattered.”
 
“So why did that Mithra think she’d recognized you?” Aunn whispered to Zevran. “And why did you pretend you hadn’t met a Dalish before?”
 
“What makes you think I was pretending?” Zevran answered her question with one of his own.
 
“Call it a hunch,” Aunn said impatiently. “And what’s the story?”
 
“I might have met Mithra’s clan before when I joined the Dalish for a few weeks,” Zevran conceded. “And it might have been this clan I came to. They…weren’t very welcoming and it didn’t work out. It’s probably best not to mention it to any of them. They’re even more finicky than the Fereldens I’ve encountered.” 
 
They walked the rest of the way in silence.
 
When they arrived at the camp, Aunn looked around curiously. All the…not quite buildings but at least dwellings appeared to be mobile which would certainly be a necessity if they were really as nomadic as she’d heard. There were elves everywhere which really did make sense as this was an elven clan but she’d never seen so many before – although she’d be the first to admit, to herself, that her experience with elves was severely limited – and it was reminding her rather uncomfortably of how similarly out of her depth she’d been upon first coming to the Surface. Most of the grown elves had the same kind of intricate tattoos on their faces that the hunters they’d found had but none of the children did. Perhaps it was some Dalish coming of age custom? There was a very tense atmosphere about the camp which wasn’t a good sign.
 
Mithra led them to an elf that was completely bald and who had a mage’s staff. Was this their leader? What had they called it? A Keeper?
 
“I see we have guests,” the Keeper said, turning to face them. He certainly didn’t look that old but, given that this was an elf and a mage, Aunn suspected that her notions of age might not be suitable here. “And rather eclectic ones at that. Why have you brought them before me, Mithra? You know that we have no interest in trading until we can deal with our…problems.”
 
“I do, Keeper Zathrian,” Mithra said, bowing her head, “but this durgen’len claims to be a Grey Warden and so I thought it best to let you handle it.” Well that answered the question of who this was and even provided a name for them to address him by.
 
“I’m a Grey Warden, too,” Alistair spoke up. “Just in case anyone was wondering.”
 
“Two Grey Wardens?” Zathrian raised an eyebrow. “Very well, Mithra, you’ve done well to bring them to me. You may return to your post.”
 
“Of course,” Mithra said respectfully as she left them alone.
 
“Well, now, Grey Wardens: why have you come here? Have you come to tell us of the Blight spreading across the land?” Zathrian wondered. “I can assure you that we are already well aware of it and will be heading north once we’ve dealt with a few difficulties we’ve been having. Or are you hear about the ancient treaties? If you are then I apologize but at this time it simply isn’t possible for us to honor them.”
 
“Why not?” Alistair asked, confused. “Oh, and yes, that is what we’re here for. Although if you didn’t know about the Blight we would, of course, have mentioned that.”
 
“While I cannot claim that I want to lead my people into war, this Blight threatens all of us and so is I could then I would but right now…This may take a little explaining,” Zathrian told them. “Walk with me.”
 
He led them over to the outskirts of the camp where there was a tiny community of cots, each one holding a pale and feverish elf.
 
“Oh, those poor people!” Leliana cried out. “What’s wrong with them?”
 
“The clan has been in Ferelden for the past month. As is our custom, we came to the Brecilian Forest,” Zathrian began. “We are always on the lookout for dangers, whether they be from mad mages, shemlen treachery, or creatures of the forest. But this…we were ambushed by werewolves. We drove them back but not before they had managed to infect many of our warriors. We’ve managed to use our knowledge of healing and magic to slow the spread of the curse but in time if nothing is done we will be forced to slay them to prevent those that do not outright die from the affliction from turning into the same mindless beasts that attacked us and finishing the job.”
 
“Flemeth tells tales of a time when packs of possessed wolves, akin to abominations, roaming the land. It was a terrible age now long past,” Morrigan said thoughtfully. “I suppose this is a remnant from then?”
 
“Indeed,” Zathrian replied, nodding. “The humans warred against and destroyed these creatures. No doubt their tales of those days grow ever more inaccurate. They never were very good at sticking to the facts if they thought that the truth didn’t sound interesting enough.”
 
“Can nothing be done?” Leliana demanded. Zathrian’s accusation certainly applied to her but Leliana was clearly too busy worrying to take offense which was probably for the best.
 
“Nothing,” Zathrian confirmed. He paused. “Unless…the curse stems from one great wolf. We call him Witherfang. It was from him that the curse started and through his blood that it spreads. If you could bring me his heart then I could cure my hunters and we would gladly join you in standing against the Blight. I must warn you, however, that this will be no mean feat.”
 
“I hadn’t thought it was,” Aunn replied. “Surely if it were that easy to accomplish you would have simply done it yourself and not waited for your people to die.”
 
“You are correct,” Zathrian acknowledged. “I might be able to take on Witherfang and win but I cannot risk leaving my people unguarded. I could come back triumphantly with the heart only to find that my clan has been massacred. The heart will not break the curse, of course, and so anyone that transforms is lost to us for good. Only those that have been infected but remain elven are not yet lost to us.”
 
“Have you considered seeking outside help before now?” Alistair asked seriously.
 
“From whom? The children of the stone? The shemlen? Do you truly think they have time to spare for us?” Zathrian scoffed. Aunn wasn’t sure about the humans – for wouldn’t the thought of werewolves returning galvanize them into action even if they didn’t care about the Dalish? – but he had a point about her people. It was going to be a challenge convincing them to head to the Surface to fight the Blight, much less deal with Surface problems like werewolves.
 
Alistair shook his head. “I was actually thinking of other Dalish clans.”
 
“I can’t risk them as well,” Zathrian replied. “Not to mention that it would take time to get a message across, time we don’t have. We have our ways of finding the other clans but it’s hardly precise.”
 
“We’ll find this Witherfang for you,” Aunn promised. “Do you have any ideas where we should start looking?”
 
“I believe he has taken up residence in the ruins to the east of here. You won’t be able to go directly there, I’m afraid,” Zathrian cautioned. “There’s a barrier, you see, but there are ways to get around it and some of the people you may encounter in the forest should be able to help you with that. The forest also has a dark and violent history so the Veil is torn and spirits occasionally come out to possess things living or dead.”
 
“Ah, just like the Circle Tower and Redcliffe, then,” Alistair remarked. “Good. We’ll know what we’re up against.” He stopped and looked confused. “Wait, did I just say that encountering demons and spirits was good?”

[okiness]

Love it as usual! I really like how you seem knowledgeable about all the terms and never forget them, and your reactions and introspection is good. Yay!

[Sarah1281]

okiness wrote...

Love it as usual! I really like how you seem knowledgeable about all the terms and never forget them, and your reactions and introspection is good. Yay!

I'm really glad that you liked it.

Getting the lore right is always one of my priorities.