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[The-Rogue-Princess]

This story is definitely worth delurking for! I'm looking forward to the next chapter as well. Ah! The canon events! How quickly they approach. It's going to be interesting.

[Addai]

HereBeDragons66 wrote...

(Also, hello everyone! I have reviewed this wonderful story at ff.net, but this is the first time I'm delurking in the forums here to make a comment. Probably won't be the last).

Hellooo and welcome to the pit. 

Howe is a master manipulator, and I figure that he induces people to believe that he's less than he is so their guard is down.  David Gaider said in the forums that Loghain thought he had control of Howe, and that's probably what Bryce thought, too.  I doubt they were close, but they were among the few survivors of the White River battle and that probably would have forged a bond- if Howe were capable of such bonds.

Thanks for your reviews and interest, also to RoguePrincess.    I am working on the next chapter in between playing DA2.

Modifié par Addai67, 10 mars 2011 - 05:44 .

[Addai]

Chapter 24

12 Cloudreach, 9:30 Dragon Age.

"Gareth." There was only silence, so Ellie tried again. "Gareth, sweet, are you going to move sometime soon? I think my rear might be fixed to this chair."

The boy did not allow his mother's complaints to distract him from his examination of the chess board. It was his move and his queen was in jeopardy, so he was being cautious. It once had seemed a good idea to have him observe chess matches between her and Anya, for though it meant being peppered with questions throughout the game about why she was moving as she did, the second set of eyes to ward off Anya's cheating was worth it. In the end, Gareth took to the game as one born. His matches with Loghain were long, silent affairs punctuated by heated disputes and ending in one or the other sulking over his loss. That was usually still Gareth, but he was getting better.

Ellie sighed, stretching, and watched skeptically as the four year-old got up to view the board from the side, leaning with his hands on the table and examining it like his father might do a map. After a few minutes he returned to his chair, sat silently, and at last reached for a piece. Ellie held her breath. This might finally be it.

Just as he was about to grasp the rook, however, they heard a maid answering the door, and a man's voice calling loudly, "Is this the Three Sisters Inn? I had a mind for some ale and one or two of the sisters."  Both Ellie and Gareth exchanged an excited look, jumped up at the same time, and ran into the foyer.

"Fergus!"

"Uncle Fergus!"

Gareth reached him first and had already been swung upside down on Fergus' arm before he released him and turned his attention to his sister. He grinned broadly. "Ah, well if there aren't any tavern wenches to pour my ale, I suppose Smelly Ellie here will have to do." The younger Cousland was now a half head taller than Ellie, his hair a shade darker, but side by side it was obvious they were cut from the same cloth. He lifted Ellie half off her feet as he embraced her and kissed her cheek.

"Fergus, what are you doing here?" As he released her, the siblings exchanged a look. Ellie sighed and answered her own question. "Mother sent you to accompany us to Highever, didn't she? Maker's breath. She knows that Loghain won't let me ride out without an entire regiment of guard as it is."

"Then one more won't hurt, eh? You know how she is. If we all did things the logical way, there'd be nothing left to nag about."

Loghain appeared from the direction of his study. He was in a plain tunic and hose, hair loose after a morning spent in drills and a bath on his return home.

"Teyrn Loghain, hello again," Fergus said in greeting, stepping over to shake his hand. The young man's grin remained, but he straightened up a little.

Loghain lifted his chin in greeting and returned the handshake. "Cousland. You're looking well."

"Ah, muddy, you mean," Fergus returned, glancing sheepishly at the tracks he had made in the foyer. "Sorry about that." Ellie watched her brother and husband, amused that Fergus was as nervous and tongue-tied around his childhood hero as he'd always been.

Loghain was not inclined to be talkative, either, so she stepped in. "And rained on by the looks. Get out of that cloak and boots and we'll have some tea. You rescued Gareth from losing at chess, you know." This provoked sputters of outrage from her son, which Ellie cut off by giving Gareth a little push towards the kitchen, bidding him order up their tea from the cook.

Ellie turned to glance at Loghain, who was still leaning against the door jamb. He didn't smile, but his face softened and he nodded once at her before excusing himself to return to his study. Their argument over the Highever treasury had cooled, mostly because they avoided the subject entirely. Ellie put off their journey north to allow Gareth a little more time with his new tutor, and in the meantime Loghain had been busy with military matters, especially the troubles in the south. It was easy to remain civil when they hardly saw one another.

Over tea, Fergus asked if Ellie had heard the reports. She glanced at Gareth and sent him off to fetch more biscuits. Even with her son out of the room, she kept her voice low. "They thought it was just Chasind squabbles at first, then a Lothering patrol found bodies and a camp that was definitely not Chasind. Afterward one of them took ill and raved, his skin turning black before he died. They think it might be darkspawn, Fergus. You remember the Grey Warden, Duncan? I went to call on him when we heard, but he had left Denerim. He told me he would go to Highever soon to look for recruits."

"There was no Grey Warden in Highever when I left it, unless he hadn't come to the castle yet."

"Some of the other Wardens have gone south to look into it. I'm worried, Fergus." The rumors of darkspawn attack were on the gossip trail, but Ellie had more reason than most to fear. She had not forgotten what Loghain had told her of the witch's prophecy of a Blight in Ferelden. It had haunted Maric, and though he claimed not to believe it, she knew it haunted Loghain, too. The dark circles had returned to her husband's eyes in recent days. It was one more thing that they couldn't talk about.

Fergus waved a hand. "Don't fret about it, Ellie. There are darkspawn raids now and again, and as long as they stay in the Wilds, it works out very conveniently for us. Not so much for the Chasind, though, I suppose."

Gareth returned with the plate of cookies, short the few he had shoved into his mouth in the hallway, which remained only in the form of crumbs on his tunic. Ellie forced herself to brighten a little for her son's sake. "Perhaps you're right. Loghain insists I needn't cancel my trip to Highever because of it. We've put it off too long. If you're up to it, I'd like to leave tomorrow."

"Give me a day," Fergus answered, scooping up several of Gareth's cookies. "I've got some things to buy for Mother."

"Very well." Ellie watched as Fergus and Gareth shoved cookies in their mouth and talked about the trip and about Highever. The young Mac Tir was excited to be going overland. He would not have his own horse yet, but had been learning to ride on one of the royal ponies. Loghain was planning to make him a present of such a pony for Satinalia, though he was holding it as a surprise.

That evening Ellie had a dinner invitation from Lady Bryland, and uncharacteristically, Fergus agreed to go along. After an hour of Habren Bryland's mooning glances and the arlessa's not so subtle comments about how handsome he was, Ellie could see that he regretted it deeply. She made excuses and they left early, walking arm in arm along the muddy paving stones of Denerim's stately Clerk's District, home of the wealthiest courtiers and city home of nobility from other parts of Ferelden. Cutha padded along behind them. The mabari hadn't been received as well as Fergus in Lady Bryland's pristine home.

All in all it was still a genial evening and Ellie decided not to spoil the mood by interrogating Fergus about their family's finances, though questions burned in her mind. She kept to asking him about the servants and about his weapons training. At one point seized by the realization how much she had missed talking to him, Ellie stopped, pulled Fergus into an embrace and kissed his cheek. "I have missed you so, brother. You don't come to Denerim often enough."

"Alright, alright. That's enough slobber now," Fergus replied, laughing. He appeared embarrassed as he pulled back from her, but also pleased. Pulling on her arm, he got them walking again. "I could say the same about you, Teyrna Elissa. You don't come to Highever often enough."

"I've been so busy. Maybe now that Gareth is older, I'll be able to travel more freely."

"And can I expect another niece or nephew soon?" At Ellie's sharp look, Fergus laughed. "Right, you caught me. Mother put me up to asking that."

She smiled, then sobered and walked silently a few moments before replying. "The Maker has only seen fit to give us the one child. Perhaps it is best. Life is complicated for the child of a national hero." For his wife, too, Ellie thought, but didn't say it. It was true, but any trouble she might have was nothing compared to what might come on their son's head as soon as the coming Landsmeet.

"More complicated than for the offspring of Bryce Cousland?"

Ellie gave a small, ironic laugh. "Yes, if you can believe it. Growing up, I had no idea that our life in Highever Castle was simple and charmed, but I see now that it was."

"Simple and charmed?" Fergus snorted. "You're getting forgetful in your old age, big sister. And you don't give yourself enough credit. Gareth looks happy enough to me. He's also smart as a whip and sly as an Antivan. Boy'll be running a gaming ring out of your house soon if you aren't careful."

"I dare say. Don't give him any ideas, Fergus."

At an intersection, they paused and Fergus put a hand over Ellie's. "This is where I leave you."

"Oh, you're not staying at the estate, are you?" Ellie protested. "Rattling around in that big house alone with the servants? Come stay with us. We don't have a lot of room but there's a guest chamber."

"Loghain won't mind?"

"Why should he mind? Come on, I'll race you back." Ellie darted ahead a few steps and looked over her shoulder, eyes flashing in challenge.

"In those boots, Smelly? If you fall and break something, it'll be my fault and I'll have to move in with you and Loghain permanently."

"We'll see," Ellie answered with a smug grin, before turning and darting up the hill toward the gates of the palace district. Cutha was up for the run, and barked his own challenge at Fergus before bounding after his mistress. The younger Cousland shook his head, began to lope, then to pick up speed as he saw that his sister was in fact managing well enough in her skirt and boots.

Fergus won by a length, but both were panting and fell on each other as they reached the gates of the residence, Ellie laughing and the mabari doing bounding circles around them both. "That will teach you to call me old," she said, smacking a hand on his chest.

"Ah yes, your wheezing is quite convincing."

The two siblings were still laughing when they reached the doorway, and were met by a stern-faced Anya, who looked them both up and down and asked if they were drunk.

Fergus' business in the city stretched out to two days, and in that time Ellie only saw Loghain for brief moments as he came to collect things from home. He was calling up the regiments of Gwaren men who were garrisoned outside the city, and some of the Denerim arlingsguard as well.

"It's nothing to worry about," Loghain told her, brushing off her questions as she cornered him on the morning of her departure. "They're just on alert. It's a good exercise, if nothing else. See to your business in Highever and it will most likely have blown over by the time you get back."

"And the business in Redcliffe?" Ellie asked quietly. She knew few details, but he told her that there was indication that Connor might be a mage, and that if this proved true, there would be no need to put Gareth forth as royal heir. Though the boy was innocent, Ellie had never wished for anything more fervently than that Connor Guerrin would show signs of magic.

Loghain's tone was confident. "It's well in hand. Eamon is back in Redcliffe, and he's not going to be troubling us at this year's Landsmeet. I'll see to it that he's detained. Now I must go, and you should, too. Your guard is waiting."

They embraced, and in the moment, Ellie found herself wanting more. She resisted his light pressure to withdraw, encircling his shoulders more tightly. The ache of missing him was worse when the distance was emotional rather than that of geography. Loghain made no protest, stroking her hair lightly, but he also said nothing. Ellie had made a point of chasing him down when he withdrew from her, and gradually he had gotten better about letting her do so. It occurred to her that when she was the one keeping distance, however, he never did the same for her.

Stung at the thought, Ellie pulled back. Loghain was about to leave without another word, but turned back, and for a moment she hoped he would say something comforting. "If things in the south do get worse, I want you to stay in Highever. I might need to go down to the Wilds myself, and you and Gareth will be better off there."

Not so comforting after all. What he really meant, she thought bitterly, was that they would be out of his way. Ellie's cheeks colored with anger and tears stung her eyes. "That's it? You don't want my help at all?"

Loghain's tone turned impatient. "What I want is for you and Gareth to be safe. Sort things out with your father or you won't be satisfied coming home anyway. Now I must go say goodbye to Gareth, and then you both should be on your way. You're losing daylight." After he had gone, Ellie heard his low tones interspersed with Gareth's excited chatter. She had no choice but to be satisfied. That was all she was going to get.

As spare as Loghain's company was, Fergus' cheerful and relaxed demeanor made a welcome contrast. They rode out with a complement of five royal guard and ten Gwaren Regulars, and one elated mabari hound. Ellie thought the number of soldiers an embarrassing excess, but with Gareth in tow, she did not put up an argument. Ten was too little to deter bandits from trying their luck at a wealthy party, Loghain insisted.

There was a drizzle as the party set out and the roads were muddy, but by late afternoon they had reached Ornsay on the King's Road. Ellie stood the guard a meal at the Blind Man's Inn, and rented a room there for herself, Anya and Gareth, over the boy's protests that he wanted to sleep out in the rain with the soldiers. Fergus accepted her offer of a room with not a whimper of complaint, though when she retired, he was still in the common room quaffing ale with the officers and playing a loud game of Wicked Grace.

Gareth's long day had made him wearier than he gave on, and in no time he was snoring softly in the large featherbed next to Ellie, Anya snoring more loudly on his other side. Ellie lay a while watching the lone candle burn down, her mind turning between Denerim and Highever.

Late the following afternoon, they had just reached Highever Cross when a message rider caught up to the party. The man made to tip his hat and ride on when he recognized Ellie and reined in, falling in beside her. Fergus rode at her other side, Gareth seated in front of him.

"Teyrna Elissa, greetings," the messenger said, out of breath from his ride. "And Lord Cousland! I knew you was abroad, not when you'd be back though."

The messenger frequented the Denerim to Highever route and Ellie recognized him. "Hello, Trevin. Are you carrying letters for my father? I would offer to take them, but with all these men we'll make slow progress compared to you."

"Very kind of you to offer, m'lady, but no, I'm on urgent business and must deliver these to the teyrn personally. Like as not you haven't heard the latest from the south, if you been on the road."

"What has happened? More darkspawn?"

Falley nodded. "I don't know what's in the letters, Lady Elissa, but I can guess. Talked to the message rider up from Lothering. The guard there met up with large groups of darkspawn getting closer to the village. A whole patrol was wiped out. More of the monsters show up every day, as fast as the guard can kill 'em. They're begging aid and King Cailan agreed. Called an emergency session of his council last night and sent out messengers calling for his armies. They say it could be a Blight coming, your ladyship."

Ellie reined her horse to a stop, and the officer behind her called for the column to halt. "The king is sending troops?"

"More than that. King Cailan's going himself to fight them. Blight or no, it must be very bad if the king is riding to war."

Ellie's mind turned. If Cailan was marching to battle, Loghain would have to go, too. She glanced at Fergus, not able to conceal the worry in her expression even for Gareth's sake.

Rather than be alarmed, the boy's eyes lit up. He was enough of a court child to understand the situation immediately. "Is da going to fight the darkspawn, mamma?"

Before she could answer, Fergus addressed the errand rider. "The king is calling for Highever troops, as well?"

"I expect so, m'lord," Falley nodded. "I was to ride posthaste and not stop."

The Couslands regarded each other solemnly, and Fergus whistled. "Denerim and Highever, too. What are you going to do?"

Ellie glanced about them. The soldiers in their company had overheard, and a buzz of conversation started up. Like Gareth, the guardsmen sounded eager rather than alarmed. Stay in Highever, Loghain had told her. After the intrigues at court, Ellie yearned for home, even a home set in motion for war. In Denerim she would just be in the way. Mother could use her support if Father himself was riding out, as he was bound to do for a royal summons.
The company was waiting on Ellie's word. She stared at the signposts silently. One arm pointed north towards Highever, the other back to Denerim. Eventually she turned her gaze to her brother. He read her choice immediately.

"Off you go, Ser Gareth," Fergus said, easing the boy off his horse and following him. When Gareth was settled in front of Ellie, she reached for Fergus' hand. He grinned at her and clasped it firmly. "Take care, Ellie. Tell Loghain to save us some darkspawn."

Then he was gone, turning up the Highever road with his two personal guard. The rest of the company waited as Ellie watched after her brother a few moments before turning around towards Denerim.

They rode hard and did not stop for the night, pressing through. Gareth finally tired of asking his mother questions about the fighting and eventually fell asleep against her as they rode. It was before dawn when they approached the city.

Loghain found her in the breakfast room nursing a cup of tea, unable to sleep after putting Gareth to bed and washing off the smell of horse. Anya had also stumbled int her bed, unused to such a long ride. The sky was just gaining the pink of dawn.

"I heard the men come in to the guardhouse," he said, keeping his voice low since most of the house was still asleep. "So, you came back."

"I came back." Ellie steeled herself for either rebuke or for indifference, which would be worse.

Loghain regarded her silently a few moments, then some tension went out of his limbs, as though a weight had been taken off. "You needn't have, but I am glad."

Ellie expelled a breath, relieved. She rose and they stepped together, kissing awkwardly. When he released her, she remained close.

"Are you going south?"

"Now I must. Cailan is leaving tomorrow morning, taking the vanguard and the Grey Wardens with him. He ordered me to wait for the eastern armies to muster here before setting off." Straightening, Loghain's voice grew bitter. "It should be the other way around, but he wants to get there first, play Cailan the Savior."

"When will you leave?"

"In two days. Perhaps three." At her frown, he shook his head. "I know what you are thinking, Ellie, but this is not a Blight."

"How can you be sure?" The pit in her stomach was growing. Three days, maybe less. He would be leaving, and if the worst came then that might be all the time they had. "Maric was certain. He was so certain that he risked his own life in the Deep Roads."

Scowling, Loghain replied, "The witch was lying to manipulate us. I could see it in her eyes. She wanted us to gape at her and dance to her tune. Or do you think I am a traitor to Maric? She said that, too."

"Alright. Alright. If you say so." Ellie relented, though she felt no better.

They ate breakfast together and then Loghain left once more. Ellie slept a few fitful hours until the sunlight woke her, and she passed the rest of the morning roaming aimlessly around the house, unpacking and trying to keep from thinking too much. Both she and Gareth were restless in the house, and after lunch Ellie agreed to take him to the palace to see what was going on, accompanied by Anya.

The palace yard was a hive of activity, with a baggage train being prepared with the king's provisions, messengers crisscrossing and royal guard officers directing. As Ellie and Gareth watched, Cailan himself came out. He spoke to a steward, but his eyes soon fell on the Mac Tirs and he approached. Normally the sight of them might have provoked a scowl, but Cailan looked to be in the highest of spirits.

"Elissa! I thought you were gone to Highever. Your father got my message?"

"Your Majesty." Ellie curtsied formally, though as was her wont, Anya gave only a dubious look for obeisance. "We passed the messenger on the road and I turned back. I trust my father has gotten your orders a day or so ago. The Couslands will not fail Ferelden."

Cailan smiled broadly. "He'd better hurry or he'll miss all the fun. And I heard that Duncan was off to Highever, too? What's that for timing?" The king's eyes fell on Gareth, and the two exchanged conspiratorial grins. The boy had never been Cailan's favorite person, but since their adventure in the watchtower they had developed a mutual appreciation that made Ellie nervous. She was about to excuse them all when Cailan said, "Walk with me, Elissa. I need to speak to you privately."

She had no choice but to comply. With a glance at Anya, Ellie left her and Gareth behind and accompanied Cailan towards a quieter end of the yard. For a time neither of them said anything, then the king turned towards her. "This could be a Blight, you know."

Ellie nodded. "I am aware. Your father suspected."

"Just so. I am ready for this. I have never been more ready for anything." Cailan's eyes took on a giddy light and he was caught up in his own thoughts for a moment. They had a harder edge as he turned back to her. "There are going to be some changes when I get back, Elissa. Big ones."

"Your Majesty?"

He smiled again, and Ellie thought that it must be at seeing her squirm. After a long pause, he went on. "Tell me one thing. I want an honest answer and no bluffing this time, no 'Your Majesty' or protests. Did you ever love me, Elissa?"
She met his eyes squarely, and made no effort to soften her tone. "I thought I did. Yes, I loved you, Cailan, in my silly girlish way. Though you have gone on to make me forget why."

Cailan laughed, though his eyes registered hurt. "Very well. You learned this bluntness from Loghain, I take it." Ellie said nothing, and he repeated, "There are going to be big changes. Even after everything you've done, I am still fond of you. I'll do my best to keep you and your son out of it."

"What are you talking about, Cailan?" Her voice was weary. With all that was going on, his threats felt hollow and she was impatient of them. "Whatever you're planning, you won't touch Gareth. If you do, it won't only be Loghain you'll have to deal with. You'll have me and my family."

She expected him to laugh and brush it off as Cailan always did, but he remained serious, and that frightened Ellie more than any threat he could have made. Her blood ran cold at the idea that Eamon or Celene, people who smiled at her, could be whispering threats towards her son, but that was not an idea Cailan could have come up with himself. If either Celene or Eamon wanted access to the throne now and in the future, they would have to find some way to discredit or eliminate the Mac Tirs. They had always counted on the fact that Cailan needed them and he needed the Couslands, but Ellie wondered if resentment over her marriage to Loghain and Anora's part in it was at last tipping the scales. Ellie's mind raced to find some way to get through to Cailan, some ply from their past relationship.

The king had remained silent while she stared, but spoke up again. "Do you know I have a brother? Half-brother, actually."

Ellie's throat was dry. "I've heard."

"From Loghain." Cailan shrugged and took a few steps past her, eyes distant. "There are those who think I should get rid of Alistair, too."

Ellie couldn't believe what she was hearing, that Cailan was actually speaking the words aloud. She shook her head, voice clenching. "You wouldn't. Cailan, you wouldn't. You're not a murderer."

"Nor a schemer, either? Not like Anora." Cailan turned, his brow knit with anger. "It seems I have to be. These people, they think they control me. All of you think that, but you're all wrong. I am the king. I will have a brother, and he'll serve me honorably. It's already done. And when I get this victory over the darkspawn, then we'll see what else I shall have, too." Tone softening, he gestured at her. "Remember what I said, Elissa. Stay out of my way. Now I must go to war. Pray for me." He lingered a moment, wanting a last word from her.

She had only one to give him. "Goodbye, Cailan," she said softly, and turned to rejoin Anya and her son.

By the next day it was settled. Cailan and the vanguard, including most of Ferelden's Grey Wardens minus Duncan, had marched southward. Loghain and the armies of the east would follow the next day. They would rendezvous with the southern lords at Ostagar, the old Tevinter fortress. Highever and Amaranthine would serve as reinforcement. Loghain had decided not to call up the Bannorn other than those closest to the fighting, since the banns were always resistant to royal summons and the threat did not seem to be dire enough to warrant the trouble. Redcliffe would also be left out of it.

Ellie had seen little of Loghain, but the night before he was to march, he came to her chambers after the rest of the house was already asleep. She sat up with one lamp burning, unable to sleep and mind skipping from worry to worry. Husband and wife exchanged a solemn look, then with little preamble Loghain sat next to her on the bed, lifted her nightdress and slid a hand upward to cup a breast. Ellie yielded, lying back. His lovemaking was rough with urgency, more ardent than he had been in a long while. She suspected that he was finally showing her the anxiety that he kept hidden, perhaps also the adrenaline of preparing for battle. Men said that there was an energy in it that fed the appetites. Though she had never been to war, Ellie got glimpses of the feeling from her training exercises. Whatever the cause, there was none of Loghain's usual restraint and care. He pinned her, limbs trembling, and bucked until he spilled into her with a strained groan. Ellie was not satisfied, but for the moment she accepted that his need was the greater, and was glad that he hadn't held it back.

Afterward he sat propped and she leaned against him, sheet coiled about her. They spoke of the following day's march, and Ellie told him of what Cailan had said to her.

"So the boy is planning a coup, is he?" He sounded amused.

"Cailan has allies other than us, Loghain. He must, or he would not be so confident as to tell me of his plans."
"It is hubris, no more. Think nothing of it."

Ellie was inclined to believe this also, but she was uncertain. "Be careful, love. He kept saying that I should stay out of his way and that he would try to keep me and Gareth out of it, but he didn't mention you at all. It's as if he doesn't expect you to be a problem."

Loghain laughed harshly. "What, you think he would try to get me killed? I'd like to see him try. I should hope I know better than to fall into any trap of Cailan's making."

His confidence calmed her. Perhaps it was only a case of Cailan's hot air. The king had a talent for empty words. As Ellie sat pondering, Loghain reached up to touch her cheek. His voice was tender, and thoughts of Cailan and politics receded. "You've got lines at your eyes now. Strange that I never noticed them before."

Ellie lifted a hand self-consciously to her face. "Don't remind me."

"No, they aren't imperfections. I think you more beautiful than the day I first saw you. You are going to be a handsome woman long past the day you see my age now."

There was a pause, and Ellie could see him studying her face. It reminded her of their wedding night, when once he had stopped to trace her features. She felt the pit of fear clawing at her once again. Loghain could be thinking that he would not live to see her as a woman of his age. She caught his hand and kissed it, tears welling. "Tell me what I can say to make this easier for you. What you're facing."

"Don't say anything. I will do what I must, as I always do. Just let me look at you." He did so a long while, then moved a sheaf of her hair back from her shoulder. "If I do fall, you'll just move on. You're young. You'll remarry and no doubt find a better man than me. See that you do, Ellie. If he doesn't deserve you, I'll have to come back from the Fade and remove his testicles with a spoon."

Ellie laughed, though the tears caught up with it and choked her voice. "Come back to us, Loghain. You have to come back to us. I am sorry for everything, for what an ass I've been. Not that you haven't been one, too."
Loghain laughed quietly, chest rumbling against her bare arm. "We've both had our share of that, it's true." He reached to lift her chin and lowered his lips to hers. Without breaking their kiss for long, they tugged at and discarded the rest of their clothing and lay back together, Loghain moving his mouth to her breast. Cupping it up to its fullness, he slid his tongue along the peak and then drew it into his mouth, eyes closing as he suckled her. Ellie felt his hardness growing against her thigh, and she was slick with new arousal along with his seed when he reached between her legs to stroke her with a roughened finger. There was no hurry this time. On the contrary, Loghain moved with deliberation and Ellie impressed each sensation in her memory.  Her mind would slip away, but it always came back to the thought that it might be the last time.

They caressed so long that Ellie came under his touch, but neither ceased. Eventually Loghain pulled at her, sliding underneath to settle her astride him. For a few moments he held her hips fast and rocked up into her with eyes closed, satisfying the arousal they had both built up, then he stopped and opened his eyes once more. A hand slid up her stomach, stroking her skin, and he watched her as she moved slowly.

When they came again, Ellie was tempted to more tears but at war with them was a strange, calming bliss. She leaned forward to kiss him and they rolled, lying side by side and continuing their kiss with at first passion and then gently, exhausted but reluctant to stop. The lamp had burned low when they parted and Ellie rested her head on his chest. As Loghain had asked of her, she said nothing. She had wanted him to talk to her, but this time he was right that the words were empty.

The following morning, Ellie took Gareth to the muster grounds outside the city to see Loghain off, accompanied by Anya. He had left early to confer with his officers, but by the time they got there the first of the troops had begun moving out along the West Road.

Loghain had been fitted with the River Dane commander's armor, and he stood with Ser Cauthrien watching the Gwaren men form ranks. Cauthrien noticed them first, and motioned to Loghain to look. Ellie exchanged a smile and nod with the knight, then turned to Loghain. He had knelt down, armor clanking, and grasped Gareth's shoulders.
His expression had been the hard one of command when they approached, but as Loghain smiled at his son, his eyes took on a cheerful twinkle that few outside his family ever saw. "Now then, Gareth, I am off. Behave for your mother. I am counting on you."

Gareth's brown eyes were grave. "I will, da. I hope you kill lots of darkspawn."

Loghain laughed. "Good lad. I hope there are not many waiting to be killed, but we will sort it out." He leaned forward and kissed the boy's forehead, then sat back. Father and son stood eye to eye, their expressions alike. With decision Loghain squeezed Gareth's arms then released him, rising to his feet and turning to Ellie.

She stepped to his side, looping an arm around his waist. "I wish I could go with you. My sword arm is itching."

"Perhaps Anya has a salve to fix that," Loghain replied, smiling. Their eyes held. Finally he leaned down to give her a light kiss, holding her briefly against the cool of his armor. The sound of Cauthrien shouting at the men drew his attention. "I have to go."

"I know. Maker bless you and keep you safe, husband. Please keep an eye on my father and Fergus. Remember what I said about Cailan. Watch him carefully."

Loghain's expression remained gentle, but his tone sharpened. "My task these twenty odd years now. Don't worry, Ellie. Maric's son or no, if he tries anything, it won't be me who gets the worse end."

A clamor of shouts and bows announced Anora's arrival. Ellie stepped away to let Loghain take leave of his daughter. As she did so, she noticed Captain Marwell and Anya standing together, the mage wringing her hands and Alun speaking to her. Ellie could not hear what the guardsman was saying, but in his gruff way he was obviously comforting her. Loghain had wrestled with whether or not to bring Alun with him to Ostagar or leave him to guard his family, but had decided there was more need of him in the south than in Denerim.

As all was at last prepared, Ellie stood with Anora and Anya, her hands on Gareth's shoulders, and watched until Loghain was lost in the long ranks marching down the West Road. She thought of her parents, and of her mother standing in the courtyard of their home watching Father and Fergus march away just as she looked after Loghain. As Ellie turned, her eyes met Anora's.

"He's in the Maker's hands," Anora said.

Ellie knew that in her own standoffish way, the queen was trying to console her.  She smiled faintly. "All of us are."

End chapter 24.

Modifié par Addai67, 16 mars 2011 - 07:03 .

[Esbatty]

That and I still wanna punch Cailan really really hard. In the genitals, thats seems to be the only place that needs some sense knocked into it.

Modifié par Esbatty, 14 mars 2011 - 04:42 .

[Maria13]

I've been meaning to say this for days. I've read this chapter and it's extremely well-written. I admit I am also intrigued: What is going to happen next? What of Ostagar, are you going to be able to exonerate Loghain? And Alistair? What role will he play?

Also I wanted to ask, what did you think of Alistair's appearance as King in DA2, he seemed to be flagging up unrest in Orlais very much as we anticipated. DA3 Trevinter v Orlais?

[Addai]

Maria13 wrote...

I've been meaning to say this for days. I've read this chapter and it's extremely well-written. I admit I am also intrigued: What is going to happen next? What of Ostagar, are you going to be able to exonerate Loghain? And Alistair? What role will he play?

Also I wanted to ask, what did you think of Alistair's appearance as King in DA2, he seemed to be flagging up unrest in Orlais very much as we anticipated. DA3 Trevinter v Orlais?

I can't say much without spoiling.    I will say that I have no interest in exonerating Loghain.  I would rather present his failings in interesting, I hope compelling ways.  It's my view of him that he always did what he did for love- of Maric, Anora and of the country.  He is the overprotective brother, friend and father.  One of the things David Gaider said about him was that it deeply affected him that he was powerless to protect his mother, and this is a key to his character for me.  My story just supplies an additional focus for that overwrought, often shortsighted devotion.

I enjoyed seeing Alistair in DA2 and I did think it interesting that Loghain was vindicated somewhat by what he says!  Of course we don't know the details.  I imagine we'll find out one way or another.

[Maria13]

Well, if you can pull this off it will be a treat indeed, and I don't see why you couldn't what you have done is excellent so far.

I wish slightly they hadn't hammed up Alistair's dialogue as King in DA2 because it detracted from some very interesting points. The thing about Orlais being one of them. I got the distinct impression he'd been to Orlais several times and liked Celene, which was interesting background. I also liked the way he reacted so differently to the characters: He's obviously downplaying that he's a Grey Warden, when Aveline says she was at Ostagar (she is the only one who bows to him by the way, and he gives no sign that the fact that no-one else does bothers him, good for you Alistair), he immediately turns serious and speaks to her fighter to fighter, "the man responsible has paid for that.", a pretty mature response.

[Addai]

Chapter 25

In answer to a reviewer question, I have been playing DA2 and enjoying it, but am as motivated as ever to finish The Arrangement. I know I am not the quickest at updating, especially as these chapters are pivotal and have required a lot of thought and work, but hopefully the result is better for it. Thank you all for your interest and readership, and to SurelyForth as always for the beta support. Dragon Age belongs to BioWare. -A.

***

3 Bloomingtide, 9:30 Dragon Age. Denerim.

Ellie woke to shouting and the sound of Cutha growling from Gareth's room. Bolting from her bed, she ran to the boy's room and found the mabari tugging at his covers trying to wake him. Crossing to Gareth's bed, Ellie turned up his bedside lamp and reached to shake Gareth's arm.

Anya appeared in the doorway soon after, muttering, "Maker preserve us, another nightmare?" There had been several in past days, a rarity for the young Mac Tir.

Gareth started awake, eyes wide and panting. "Mamma."

"It was just a bad dream, love." Ellie sat and stroked his cheek and the forehead, plastered with sweaty locks of brown hair. She turned to Anya. "Fetch him some water, please." Turning back, Ellie's brow knit with worry. Gareth had rested back and lay quiet, fingers fidgeting with the edge of his blanket.

It had been a week and a half since Loghain's departure. Initial reports back from the south were promising. The king's forces had engaged the darkspawn even before Loghain arrived, but the skirmishes were going well. Highever and Amaranthine would have met up and would be marching by now, but might find their muster was for nought. Still, Ellie could not help but wonder if they had not been careful enough with their stories of darkspawn around Gareth. Since his father had set out, Gareth had been irritable, but was a silent wall when she tried to prod him. I am raising another Loghain, Ellie thought, the idea only charming in the abstract. She was outnumbered.

"Do you want to talk about your dream, pet?" she prompted. Silence followed, as she expected. "You're thinking about your da, aren't you? He's alright, Gareth. The battles are going well. He'll write to us himself as soon as he can. Or maybe he'll be back soon, before Satinalia I wager."

The boy turned to look at her, but Anya appeared with the cup of water just then. Gareth sat up and accepted it, took a few long slurps, then let Ellie take the cup and settled back down. She guessed that there would be no more talking, but as Ellie was reaching to tuck in his covers, Gareth spoke up in a small, solemn voice. "I don't want my da to die."

Ellie exchanged a look with her attendant, and Anya slipped out. When his mother reclined against the headboard, Gareth moved closer to her side and she tucked him under her arm. She thought a while about what to say. Her assurances obviously weren't working, but this was little surprise. They sounded hollow even to her own ears. "I want him back, too. Do you remember the game we played when I went to Orlais?"

"The 'magining game."

"That's right. Shall we do it now for him?" Gareth looked up at her uncertainly. Simple ploys to distract or comfort him were not working as well as they used to when he was smaller. The four year-old questioned everything. It was one reason he was so sharp, but Ellie felt a grey hair must appear on her head every time he did it. She persisted. "It helped before, didn't it? A little?" To her relief, Gareth would allow this. He nodded, then turned his head and closed his eyes. Ellie smiled and clasped a small, sweaty hand. "Alright. Do you see him? Picture every little detail. His face, his laugh, the sound of his voice. Concentrate now."

They both did it. The average palace guard might never have seen one of the teyrn's smiles, but Ellie thought of how Loghain looked when Gareth ran to meet him after a long time away. Lines on his forehead would soften and others form at his eyes and mouth as he smiled. The blue eyes that caused people to flinch and wilt could be gentle when he willed them to be, and that is how Ellie preferred to imagine him.

Just as she was getting to the part where Loghain would rise from Gareth and turn to her, Ellie noticed that her son's breathing had deepened. Opening her eyes, she watched him until she was satisfied that he had fallen back asleep, then leaned down and brushed her lips over the place where the dark brown hair curled at his brow.

Carefully Ellie stood and fixed the covers. Cutha lifted his head from where he had curled up at the end of Gareth's bed. The mabari uttered a small "ruff," obviously still uneasy. She knelt down and stroked the black fur. The hound leaned into her hand as she scratched his ears.

"Neither of us can do much about this problem, can we boy?" she whispered. "I'm glad you're here with him, though. That's something."

Back in her own room, Ellie could not return to sleep. She tried to read, then got up and fiddled restlessly around her chamber. At her dressing table, she paused and leaned in to look at her face in the mirror. Loghain had noticed lines around her eyes, and Ellie saw them, too, fine but noticeable. Anya was always slathering creams and preparations on herself, and did have soft, clear skin for a woman her age. She had tried to push the same on Ellie but the teyrna ignored cosmetics as much as possible. Yet if this wrinkling trend were to continue...

Pounding on the front door cut off thoughts of face cream. The housekeeper would normally answer the door, but since she was awake anyway, Ellie pulled on a dressing gown. The visitor's impatient battering of the door continued.
Ellie opened the door to find soldiers there, armed and in full gear. They blocked the doorway and there were more in the yard, twenty or perhaps thirty, some of them moving around to the back of the house.

"Lady Cousland?" one of them asked brusquely.

"That's right. Lady Mac Tir, if you please." Looking around in confusion, Ellie noticed a crest of Amaranthine. "Is my father with you? Are you looking for Loghain? He has already marched south, I'm afraid."

"Oh, we know," the lead soldier replied, smiling.

Ellie had a moment to frown at the odd response before, glancing around, she noticed other leering grins. It was not these that made her afraid, however. The fear came when she saw one young sergeant looking at her with an expression she recognized as pity.

***
10 Bloomingtide, 9:30 Dragon Age. Ostagar.

His first sword strike knocked the crude helmet from the genlock's head. Loghain's backstroke removed the head clean, leaving a toothless maw permanently open in a shriek. Shoving the headless body out of his way with his shield, he advanced and dispatched two more, then looked up as he heard the men cheering. What was left of the black mass was breaking up and trying to retreat back into the trees.

"Archers!" Loghain shouted, reminding them that their battle wasn't over. The men knew not to pursue the darkspawn into the Wilds, but no retreat would be allowed without cost. Bowmen, whose ranks had been scattered during the battle, stood where they were and began firing arrows into the backs of the fleeing monsters. Loghain spotted a felled archer nearby and in one movement kicked the man over, sheathed his sword and dropped his shield at his feet. Nock, aim and fire. The motions were ingrained in him from his youth, first taught by his father to hunt their family's food. Some forty years later, Gareth Mac Tir's instruction served just as well for dropping darkspawn.

When there were no more targets, Loghain dropped the bow and retrieved his shield with only a moment's glance at the young face of the dead archer. He recognized him, a Gwaren man who had been posted to Denerim only that spring. There was no time for regret.

"Burn the bodies," he instructed as men gathered around him. "Everyone washes before you're back at camp. No exceptions, Captain." His officer nodded, familiar with the routine. Before returning to camp everyone washed the blood and filth from their weapons and armor, turning the streams that fed into the Wilds black with darkspawn stench. The king's army and Loghain's forces had not incurred many losses, but more than they should have and not only to battle wounds. The creatures spread sickness and a kind of mania that had gripped some men so powerfully that they raved even though there was not a scratch on their bodies. There was no way to rid the camp of the smell and the diseased blood, but they had to at least try.

After washing himself, Loghain returned dripping to his tent to find Cailan and several of his guards lounging there. Cauthrien followed behind him.

The king jumped up. "You fought them? Why didn't you send word?"

When Loghain made no answer, only began to remove his gauntlets, Cauthrien spoke up behind him. "They hit hard but the battle was over quickly, Your Majesty. A messenger wouldn't have reached you in time. I'm sorry."

Loghain shot his second an impatient scowl for indulging the king's complaint. Since the moment they arrived at the ancient keep, Cailan had increasingly exhibited a different kind of mania than fear of the darkspawn. The battles were growing more difficult and sorties more dangerous, but it only made Cailan the more eager. He had accompanied the Grey Wardens to scout that morning or he would have been in the thick of the battle on the other side of the valley. As always, the Wardens who were supposed to be able to sense the creatures were nowhere to be found when they actually attacked.

"What did you find out about the western passes?"

Cailan heaved a sigh and sat back down, propping his foot up on an arms chest. "It's a waste of time, Loghain. We aren't retreating."

Loghain turned, fighting to keep his voice even. "We've been over this. I would like to know that the possibility at least exists for some sort of retreat. Did you or did you not scout the mountain passes as you said you were going to?"
"They're overgrown. It would take more men or more time than we've got to clear them. Anyway, we don't need them. I already told you our strategy here, Loghain."

"You've told me what your Grey Wardens deem a strategy," he answered derisively. "It sounds like a fine plan. Instead of harrying them to retreat to the Deep Roads, you hope to draw every darkspawn out into Ferelden's heart."

"Scared, old man?" Cailan laughed. Loghain cast him a dangerous look but said nothing. A fight would only give the king what he wanted. Undeterred, Cailan went on. "If they are going to attack Ferelden anyway, we might as well meet the darkspawn all here in one great contest. They are drawn to Grey Wardens like dogs to a fresh kill. We have all the Fereldan Wardens here now save Duncan, and if our Wardens aren't enough to draw the archdemon, the Orlesians should arrive soon enough. Then we'll put an end to this and you can go back to puttering with your maps."

Loghain spoke the word with acid. "Orlesians?"

The king's grin widened. "Maker, did I forget to tell you? Yes, Loghain. I sent word to Empress Celene weeks ago. Orlais has far more Wardens than we do, and she also offered the help of her chevaliers. I expect to get word from the border any day now that they've crossed over."

Loghain felt his face purple. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Cauthrien staring at Cailan in disbelief. "Get out," he uttered from clenched jaw.

Without hesitation, Cauthrien gestured at the others in the tent. "You heard the teyrn. Out." Even the king's men obeyed her.

Cailan had got up from his chair and was fiddling in the provision cabinet. As he found the whiskey he'd been searching for and turned, Loghain's grip stopped his arm in midair. The whiskey sloshed but the king managed not to drop the bottle. "What have you done? Chevaliers, on Fereldan soil?"

Shaking Loghain's hand loose, Cailan stepped away and opened the whiskey, drawing a swig straight from the bottle. "It's done, and there's nothing you can say or do about it. We don't need them, but it's a gesture of... new relations." His mouth quirked again, the smile not quite breaking, as though he were not yet sure himself if it was a good thing. "You need to get used to this, Loghain. I call the shots. Not you, not Anora. The time of you all scheming behind my back is over. You got Elissa. The rest of Ferelden is mine."

"That is what this is all about?" Loghain's voice was laced with contempt. "There's one woman in Ferelden you can't f*ck, so the rest of the country is to fall to either darkspawn or Orlesians, is that it? Have I assessed the situation accurately, Cailan?"

"I'll defeat the darkspawn, Loghain." Cailan was strident. "And I think you know as well as I do that there are two women in Ferelden I can't f*ck. One of them only lies down for you, hard as it is to believe. The other I wouldn't bed if she were the last woman in Thedas."

"By the Maker, I'll..." Loghain had started forward but just then his guard poked a head in to announce a messenger outside. Loghain barked at him where he might shove his blighted message. The man vanished, and Loghain rounded on Cailan again. The king stood, arms crossed, his smirk lingering though his eyes were narrowed.

"You'll do nothing at all," Cailan answered. "I'm giving you a last chance to seal your legacy by even letting you command my armies here. Once this Blight is defeated, you are going to leave Denerim and take your pretty wife and young son back to Gwaren to live out the rest of your miserable days. If Anora doesn't like it, you can take her with you. My father made you both what you are, and I can unmake you just as easily."

Beneath the rage, Loghain discovered a mote of surprise. He and Cailan had often argued, but there was little backbone behind the boy king's protests. This time he actually sounded confident, and for a moment Loghain was reminded of Maric when his friend had finally transformed from quavering fugitive princeling and had stood up to the banns. Nevertheless Maric had found his courage facing an army of Orlesian chevaliers, not with an army of them behind him. Loghain kept his voice even. "You may do what you like to me, but I will not let you destroy Ferelden."

"Ferelden belongs to me," Cailan replied, draining the last of the whiskey and tossing the empty bottle on his cot. He then turned to go, but paused at the door and looked back. "I promise you one thing: No Mac Tir will ever sit on the throne while I live."

When Loghain was alone, he fought the urge to break everything that lay to hand. Anger would not help him now. "Sergeant!" he shouted toward the door. The same guard who had been earlier banned now poked his head tentatively past the tent flap. "I need to send a letter to the queen with the next post rider. Do not let him leave without it."

"Post riders ain't gettin' through, Teyrn," the messenger answered.

"Damn."

"Aye, for the second day now. The darkspawn are too thick in the Wilds."

The teyrn waved the man off and paced, considering. Cailan might be bluffing, but Loghain had to assume that he was telling the truth. That oily chamberpot Ambassador de Bruyn had not been in Denerim when the armies left it. The king must have sent him to Val Royeux with the message, even before the south had called for his aid. This was not about darkspawn. The monsters were only a pretext for some other plan Cailan was cooking up, he and Eamon. Loghain's thoughts turned to his agent, the blood mage Jowan. Even if he had been able to call the man back, this showed that more than ever it was necessary to isolate Cailan from him. If they were all lucky, the mage's poison might be more potent than Loghain had intended.

He recalled the last time they had confronted an Orlesian insurgency in independent Ferelden. That had involved darkspawn as well, intelligent darkspawn who were in league with several Orlesian Grey Wardens and the Orlesian First Enchanter of the mage Circle. Maric was drawn into it, but only unwittingly and because he trusted the Wardens. Now Loghain and his men were trapped in a valley fortress by darkspawn while Orlesians, led by Grey Wardens, were about to cross Ferelden's border. It was as though the events of history were repeating themselves in altered form, like they were caught in a maelstrom and had come back around to where the Fereldans once had been twenty years before. Loghain's mind moved uneasily to the witch. She should be long dead, but he had the feeling she was still watching them. He wondered if it was she who was stirring the pot, or if she only dipped her finger in it now and again.

"Fairy stories," Loghain grumbled, angry with himself for entertaining them at all. It did not matter why things were happening as they were. Come what may, he and his men would have to break free of this fortress and soon. If chevaliers had already crossed the border, they could take Denerim while Ferelden's armies were all unaware. Perhaps it was what Cailan wanted. The boy would make a fine puppet king for a greedy empress, and he was reckless and naive enough to believe he would get the better end of such a bargain. Still, the boy and Eamon would have quite a task to contend not only with the Mac Tirs but the Couslands as well, bound as they were by marriage.

That evening and the next morning were taken up by meeting with his officers and mediating trials for desertion. Loghain slept little, pacing in his tent and walking among the men the night through. Only towards dawn did he rest fitfully, and dreamt of Ellie calling to him.

The strategy meeting the next afternoon was delayed because Cailan was nowhere to be found. Loghain paced while Cauthrien stood patiently by. A half hour late, Cailan strolled in with two guard. His face grave, the king gestured for Loghain to step aside. Wisely, he kept a space between them.

"Duncan has returned. You'll want to see him and his new recruit."

"And why should I do that? I do not share your enthusiasm for these Wardens, Your Majesty." He spoke the title with irony dripping.

Cailan ignored the jibe. "You know this one. It's Fergus Cousland."

Loghain looked up sharply. "What? Has Bryce gone mad?"

"Bryce is dead. Eleanor, too, and most of the household by the sounds." There was murmuring in the tent as some of the others overheard.

"This is a poor time for tasteless jokes, Cailan."

"I can hardly believe it myself, but it's true." The king moved away and began to unstrap his gauntlets. "Fergus says he saw Howe men attacking the castle, slaughtering everyone down to the women and children. He escaped with Duncan's help in exchange for a vow to join the Wardens once they reached Ostagar. I promised him that once all this is done, I would lead the Highever forces that are here and go to the north to see about Howe." The king paused, regarding Loghain. "I expect you'll want to join me in that?"

Slowly the teyrn bent, bracing on the table. Bryce and Eleanor dead, all the household, and Highever taken. It made no sense. How could Rendon Howe have accomplished such a feat even if he had wanted to? He was resourceful, but this was madness. Loghain's mind turned, trying to assess the field as was his native talent. Orlesians moving in from the west, darkspawn attacking Ferelden's southern flank, and now this. Howe had suspected Bryce of collusion with the Orlesians. Perhaps he had learned of the chevaliers massing at the border and was taking matters into his own hands.

Loghain straightened, shaking his head slowly. Ellie would be devastated. The thought of her grief, and of Gareth's, made his hands shake. It was shortly followed by another image, however, and one even more chilling: Ellie and Gareth surrounded by chevaliers as once he and his own mother had been. All other concerns shrank next to the white fury this idea ignited in him.

"My lord, I'm sorry but we cannot do anything for her ladyship now." Cauthrien was leaning in to urge him back to the present. "The latest scouting reports from the Wilds are dire. It appears that there will be battle, a large one and soon. It can't be avoided."

Loghain nodded once, forcing his thoughts to calm. "Show me."

The reports were indeed bad. A large mass of darkspawn had broken through to the north. They were holding position, likely massing for an attack, but might arrive at Ostagar as soon as that night or the morning. There would indeed be no way to avoid a confrontation, even if Loghain took his forces to Denerim immediately. If they tried to go around, they could get mired in the Wilds. If they tried to break through, his army might be surrounded.

"This is it," Cailan said, his tone laced with triumph. "This has to be the main body with the archdemon guiding them. Why else would they be waiting to form up?"

"We've seen no dragons in the Wilds," Cauthrien countered.

Loghain watched the debate, his eyes mostly fixed on the cheerful Cailan. Not for a moment did Loghain forget that it was Cailan's doing, and Eamon's, that chevaliers were about to march on Ferelden while they were all occupied with darkspawn. Cailan was not only going to doom them, he was reveling in it. The thought crossed his mind, not for the first time, that they would all be better off if their boy king never returned from these battles.

The close tent had become a cacophony. "Enough!" Loghain bellowed, causing all to fall to silence. Shuffling the papers on the table, he drew forth a large diagram of the fortress and the surrounding Wilds. He paused over it, then reached for a charcoal and began scratching lines. "It is apparent that a large battle is coming and can't be avoided. This is what we are going to do..."

When the meeting broke, Loghain returned to his tent and sat down to a small meal the steward had laid out for him. Although he had not eaten all day, he found that not the smallest crust would go down his throat. For an hour he sat torturing a cup of ale, mind swimming. One phrase kept repeating in his thoughts like a drumbeat: "Ellie, forgive me." He did not even know what he was asking pardon for.

The constant back-and-forth of messengers to his quarters would have been a mercy, but they had fallen silent. Finally there came a scratching on the tent flap.

"Come," he barked.

The tent flap parted and his guard leaned in. "Grey Wardens to see you, m'lord."

Loghain rose, resigned. He was not surprised to see which Warden was standing at his door.

Fergus was pacing, but turned abruptly when Loghain appeared. "You heard?"

"I heard." Loghain inspected the younger Cousland. Fergus looked to have aged a full five years at least. There was a shadow of beard on his cheeks, along with cuts and scrapes not yet healed over. The dark amber eyes that were so much like Ellie's were wild and haunted, bruised with lack of sleep.

"Then you know Howe betrayed us. I'm going back north just as soon as this is done. As soon as the Grey Wardens are done with me. You'll help us, won't you?"

"You saw your parents fall?"

"I didn't..." Fergus stopped, his throat seizing as though he might vomit. He didn't, however, and after a moment went on, "I didn't see them die, but Father's side was opened. We were surrounded and they made me leave them behind. I..." Once again the words broke.

Loghain stepped forward and laid a hand on the young man's arm. "I'm sorry."

After a moment Fergus' head came up. "Howe has to die. I'll do whatever I have to do."

"You're here now and there's a large battle coming. I've also learned that there are Orlesian forces on our western border who will want to take advantage of this chaos. When these things are dealt with, we'll see to Highever. Perhaps there is another explanation for what happened. Your father and Howe had been arguing about Bryce's dealings with Orlais."

Taking a step back, Fergus regarded Loghain with disbelief. "Another explanation? Don't you see what he is trying to do? He wants Highever! I tried to get a message to Ellie but the Grey Warden wouldn't let me go to Denerim myself. I'm afraid Howe's going to go after her next."

Loghain's eyes flashed. The thought had not yet occurred to him, but that was because it was too absurd. "He wouldn't dare. If he does want Highever, he'll just challenge Ellie's claim in the Landsmeet on the basis that she's already Teyrna of Gwaren.  She is still heir, but they won't like a dual title."

Fergus shook his head, his mouth twisting. He stared at Loghain as if it was the teyrn who had plunged a sword into his parents. "You're talking about politics when there is a madman killing my family and everyone pledged to us. Our family is yours now, Loghain. You have a blood debt to repay!"

Loghain's voice rose. "I have a country to save, one that includes my wife and son. Do not think that I ever forget it. You can lecture me about honor and revenge later, once that is done."

They were at an impasse and both recognized it. Fergus' face fell. Quietly he said, "The Grey Wardens want me to go through some ritual tonight. It's dangerous and I may not survive it. Please, Loghain, I'm begging you. Get out of here and get back to Ellie. She's not safe. If I die, don't let my family go unavenged."

Loghain's tone eased slightly but remained firm. "If I survive, I will do what is best for Ferelden. I can do no other."

Fergus' hands lifted in a gesture of futility. His voice was weary and bitter. "I suppose it is in the Maker's hands. That's what people say when it's all gone to hell, isn't it?"

"So they do." Their eyes met. Cousland straightened, his resolve returning to him. He said no more.

As Fergus turned to leave, Loghain glanced at the other Warden that had accompanied him but stood off at a distance. It was a young, sandy-haired man, carrying a templar shield though his armor was plain splint. His head appeared to follow a pretty mage that had walked past on her way towards the Circle's tents. Though the young man's back was turned to Loghain, there was a familiarity in his stance and it took only a moment for him to realize who the Warden was. Maric's son was here at Ostagar and apparently snapped up by the Grey Wardens just as Cousland had been. Had that been Maric's great plan to spare the boy taking Chantry vows, or were the Wardens just plucking off all the country's political heirs? At any other time, the matter would have felt momentous. Loghain had too much on his mind, however. That Maric's bastard was in front of him and lost to the Wardens meant little if the country they had once saved from the Orlesians fell to Cailan's betrayal.

By nightfall, no one needed the supposed Grey Warden ability to sense darkspawn to know that the horde was near. Their smell was on the air. Mabari howled and whined in the army camps, but the men were quieter than usual.

Loghain stood in his tent while Cauthrien suited his armor. His mind turned over and over, sifting events. Who would benefit from the Couslands being eliminated or weakened? The same people who wanted the Mac Tirs out of the way. The same people who wanted Orlais to return to power in Ferelden. Willing or not, knowing or not, Howe might have become a pawn for them just as Cailan was being used as a puppet. Cailan wanted a decisive victory, something that would give him enough popular acclaim that he could afford to set Anora aside. If there were no more Couslands and no more Mac Tirs to oppose him, so much the better. Big changes are coming, Cailan had told Ellie before the armies marched south. No Mac Tir will ever sit the throne while I live. Five years before, when he and Anora and Ellie had made a bargain to keep their power and the peace of Ferelden, none of them had ever imagined that Cailan would turn to forces more powerful than their own and turn it all back on them. Loghain heard another voice scratching in his mind, that of the witch. Keep him close and he will betray you, each time worse than the last. Of himself and Cailan, which was the real traitor?

When the last piece was affixed, Loghain turned and reached for his sword.

Cauthrien lingered, watching him. The knight spoke little, never idly, but she knew him better than most. "Do you think her ladyship is in danger? Could Denerim fall before we get back?" Loghain didn't answer, and he knew that Cauthrien took this to be an affirmative. Her tone was earnest. "What are we going to do?"

Loghain sheathed his sword and picked up his shield. "We're going to survive."

There was a final strategy meeting with the commanders. The Grey Wardens were late, but Loghain laid out his map and reviewed the night's strategy. He felt an inward calm that he recognized from his time in the rebellion. Everything hung in the balance, but it was when the stakes were the highest they could be that a man found out what he could do.

"It's as I told you earlier," Loghain recounted. "We rely on the same strategy that the Tevinters used against a large attacking force, a classic envelopment. Draw the darkspawn into the valley, then close the door behind them with a flanking army. I am told that darkspawn are drawn to Grey Wardens, isn't that what you said?" His eyes leveled to Cailan, and the king nodded. "Then we use the Wardens as our bait. They and a few of our best troops will form the ground vanguard in the valley, with archers on the bridge and ramparts above. Lieutenant Riven from Gwaren will lead them..."

"I will lead them."

Loghain looked up, his eyes meeting Cailan's once more. He had anticipated this, and had to force himself not to smile. Whoever was at the head of the valley was not likely to come out again even if the pincer strategy worked. Cailan himself had ensured that none of the mountain passes were clear. There would be no retreat behind him. "It's too dangerous for you to be at the front lines," Loghain replied, knowing what the response would be. The more he pushed Cailan not to do it, the more likely the fool was to insist. Cailan was still Cailan, and Loghain knew how to pull his strings. He had had far more practice at it than Eamon or Celene.

"I don't care," the king answered firmly, true to Loghain's hunch. "I'm going to stand with the Grey Wardens in this assault. This is my victory and I'm not going to sit on the back lines."

There was a long pause. Loghain looked down at his map, and went on carefully. No one could say that he had not warned the boy about what his bravado would cost. "Very well, my men will form the flanking force. You'll have to hold, Cailan, possibly for a long time. The trap can only swing shut once most of the darkspawn are in the valley or they'll catch us in the rear and the flanking army will be surrounded. We will need spotters at a high vantage point to signal when the horde is completely in the valley. This tower..."

They were interrupted as the Grey Warden commander and Fergus Cousland entered the courtyard and took their places next to Cailan. Fergus regarded Loghain and nodded once. He looked shaken, the dark around his eyes even more pronounced, but he accepted Cailan's congratulations at completing the initiation ritual of the Wardens with a firm equanimity. This grim-faced young warrior was so different from the gawky young man that had stood dripping in their foyer some weeks prior that Loghain would have hardly recognized him. Yet the resemblance to Ellie was still there, a jolting reminder.

He had been trying not to think of her and Gareth. It was not possible that he would return to a dead wife and child. The Maker would not permit that his wife would lie bloody and ravaged at the feet of attackers, Orlesians or Orlesian puppets, while Loghain was half a country away unable to save her. And yet the Maker had allowed such an outrage before. Big changes are coming.

The king's chatter was a blur, and Loghain heard himself agreeing to a plan to have Grey Wardens light the signal beacon from the Tower of Ishal. Rage could make one numb, but it could also bring clarity. It didn't matter if the Wardens were in charge of the battle signal, though it might mean they could send his army in to be caught from the rear. An idea was forming in Loghain's mind, and it was better if the Wardens were in charge of that crucial aspect of the battle.

"It's set then," Cailan proclaimed, as though the battle had already been won. "I cannot wait for that moment! The Grey Wardens battle beside the king of Ferelden to stem the tide of evil."

He could not countenance it any longer. Turning away, Loghain saw Ellie in his mind's eye, this time not bloody and beaten but standing. She was not his mother. It would not happen again, not to Gareth, not to any Fereldan child. Ellie would fight, as Rowan once had, and she would not have to hold out for long. Loghain would see to that.

"Yes, Cailan," he answered as he walked away from the assembly. "A glorious moment for us all."

End chapter 25.

Modifié par Addai67, 04 avril 2011 - 02:08 .

[The-Rogue-Princess]

Glorious! Well-done again Miss Addai. The way you potray Loghain is amazing. I hope you've been enjoying DA2!

[Schratty]

"A glorious moment for us all."

Oh, snap! Sh!t's about to get real! Awesome work as always, Addai. So glad to see the story continuing to progress, despite the distraction of DA2

[Addai]

Thanks guys! DA2 is a distraction but one advantage of sharing the PC with the man is that I'm on timeout whether I want to be or not. lol

[Esbatty]

Great chapter!

[Maria13]

I really do like how you make Loghain understandable if not likeable, I mean he's setting Cailan up to be killed here...

I also like the partial glimpse of Alistair. His nemesis? Who knows? There may well be a tussle later between Alistair and Fergus as to who gets him first...

[alschemid]

And so it begins!!

I was afraid of how this would turn out... but turned out great!!

[Addai]

@ Maria: In the game of thrones, you win or you die! Sorry, I couldn't resist. I've got Sean Bean on the brain and Schratty's not helping.

@ alschemid: One thing I'm realizing from reviews is that some people write AU stories because they don't like some aspect of the game/ novel story and want to change it substantially. That was never my intent. I like the game/ novels' story and just want to play in the gaps and with the what-might-have-beens. Whether it works in the end or not, we shall see.

[Maria13]

Yah, "Winta is coumin..." I can't wait, it opens here in the UK the day after in the US...

[Schratty]

Addai67 wrote...
I've got Sean Bean on the brain and Schratty's not helping.

I'm sorry, Addai...am I...distracting you?

[Addai]

*leers* Sean as broody, honorable Ned Stark is too much. Too much!!!

BTW Maria, I'm sure you noticed what I had Alistair doing in his little cameo. Obvious!

[Maria13]

Oh, yes, he likes to check out the mages... That and his love for magic stuff is the Elven blood showing through methinks...

BTW if Fergus has any sense he'll allow Ali to accidentally on purpose take out Loggy since big sis is married to him...

Modifié par Maria13, 05 avril 2011 - 09:58 .

[Esbatty]

Man Cailan makes me want to write a quick one-off from the Ogre's POV of whuppin' the King's Ass with the Archdemon singing their victory.

[Maria13]

I actually feel sorry for Cailan. Hardly knew his mum. Neglected by dad. Married off too young to someone totally incompatible... As with Loggy, I can see where he's coming from. And that is kudos to Addai.

[Addai]

Yes, Cailan has his POV as well. He sees himself as taking back the throne that is rightfully his and getting rid of those around him who have tried to manipulate him, as well as moving the country forward as he believes his father would have done if he hadn't been held back by Loghain.

All of this is in the original game story, at least in seed form. Of course I'm including the metagame knowledge that Cailan was about to divorce Anora as of Ostagar.

[Morwen Eledhwen]

Addai67 wrote...

*leers* Sean as broody, honorable Ned Stark is too much. Too much!!!

Just to back up a second, Addai, I turned on my cable movie station last night in the middle of a film starring a relatively skinny, incredibly young-looking Sean Bean --with a mullet. (It was 1990, we can perhaps forgive him.) Still had the voice, of course --though he was trying to affect a South African accent. My eyes and ears were relatively pleased but my brain could only handle so much of it. I think this is an encouraging sign, though --they must be dragging out anything they can find with him in it to capitalize on the new series. So there looks like hope for lots of Sean coming to a small screen near you. . .<3

[Addai]

Chapter 26

6 Bloomingtide, 9:30 Dragon Age. Denerim.

She had not even fought them, and then it was too late.

Lulled into hesitation by the fact that these were her father's own liegemen, Ellie was surrounded before she could comprehend what was happening. Only when she heard one of the men say "get the boy" did her fight instinct engage itself. By then there were two men holding her arms, and more came to assist them as she kicked and threw herself, screaming for Gareth. Unlike his mistress, Cutha recognized the intruders immediately for what they were. Ellie's cries were soon overtaken by the sounds of a terrific battle from the direction of Gareth's room.

A blind, wild terror gripped Ellie and, charged with adrenaline, she managed to slip her captors. They caught her again in the hallway, tackling her from behind and pinning her there while in the background men who had had flesh torn from their bones screamed and the mabari growled and yelped as he fought. When the hound was finally silenced, Ellie could hear Gareth crying. He was alive, but as she turned her head Ellie saw men dragging him towards her room. Struggling, he was trying to dig his bare heels in.

"Gareth!"

"Mamma!" A door slammed, shutting off his cries.

"Please don't hurt my son," she heard herself begging. "Please, I'll do anything you ask."

The man whose knee was pressed into her back ground it in more fiercely. "Cousland b*tch. We ought to cut you right here."

The lead soldier appeared from the foyer and started barking orders. "Get her up. I told you we don't touch the teyrn's wife, damn you."

Ellie was hauled to her feet and herded along the gore-soaked hallway. As she passed, she saw a lump of bloodied meat lying across the doorway of Gareth's room, visible in the moonlight from the window. Cutha was no longer recognizable as the war hound he had been. He had taken some of Howe's men with him, however. She could see a body slumped against Gareth's bed, and there were men moaning in pain. None of it was comprehensible. The sole and only thing that Ellie knew was the terror of seeing her child torn and broken like that.

When they opened her door and shoved her through, however, she found him crying but unharmed, crouched on the floor between soldiers that towered over him.

"Gareth!" The men parted and allowed Ellie to hold him. She clutched her son tightly, then pulled back. "Did they hurt you?"

"They killed Cutha," Gareth answered miserably through his tears.

"I know."

"Why, mamma? Why? What do the men want?"

Ellie wished she knew. Holding Gareth protectively, she glanced up at the men, trying to gauge what was going on. The sole lamp in the room cast shadows over their grim faces. Others soon entered, herding Anya and the elven couple who had kept house and garden in the past year into Ellie's room. They were the only servants who lived in the cottage permanently, the others coming and going during daylight hours.

"Which one is the mage?" a soldier demanded of Ellie.

The leader interrupted, growling, "Aldric, you stupid ass. She wasn't no elf. It's got to be the old woman."

Aldric seemed to agree with the reasoning. He gestured at Anya. "You the witch? Go heal our men over there. No tricks or it'll go hard on the boy."

Anya shot a look across to Ellie, who nodded once, eyes pleading. With reluctance, the mage accompanied them back out into the hall.

Turning back to Ellie, the lead soldier scowled and pointed at her. "None of this was necessary, you know. We're here for your protection. There's rioting in the city and Teyrn Howe is concerned for your safety."

Teyrn Howe. In the confusion, Ellie barely noticed what must have been a slip of the tongue. Her fear turned to anger. "You have a funny way of protecting us, barging into our home in the middle of the night with weapons drawn. You will all pay for this."

The soldier opened his mouth to reply, but something in what she said put him back on his heels and his mouth snapped shut. He withdrew, barking orders for the men to search the house for weapons.

Ellie stood, lifting Gareth with her, and rested him down on her bed, taking a seat at his side and watching the men tearing through her closets and chests. Gareth's pajamas were streaked with blood but there was nothing to be done about that. Some minutes later Anya returned, pale and exhausted, and sat down next to them. "You alright, ladyship, you and the little teyrn? You're not injured?"

"We're fine," Ellie replied. That was true for the moment, but it was apparent that something terrible was happening. Try as she might, Ellie could not think what. That Rendon Howe's men should attack and imprison them made no sense.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Gareth tugging on her dressing gown. "Is da going to come home soon?"

No doubt he was envisioning, as she could, Loghain's sword cutting a swath through the men tearing up their home. It was a satisfying image, but an empty one. Her husband was far away, unaware that anything more was amiss in their home than the usual scraped knees and quarreling maids. Ellie took a moment to berate herself for being so helpless. She brushed a hand along her son's arm. "It will be alright, pet. Try to sleep."

They spent a long night huddled together on Ellie's bed, with men standing guard at the doorway. More were in the yard. None would answer her questions. At morning's light the housekeeper was made to fix breakfast for al the soldiers, and Anya called again to attend to the wounded. Ellie did not leave Gareth for a moment. He had slept fitfully and woke with bloodshot eyes, mournful when he looked at his mother, sullen when one of the captors appeared.

By afternoon the gardener, under the soldiers' supervision, had removed Cutha's body and buried it in the yard. His wife set about cleaning up the blood. Ellie and the others were allowed to move abut the house, though soldiers watched them closely and turned them back if they attempted to go outside. The smell of smoke was in the air. There seemed to be some truth to what the men said about rioting in the city. Ellie kept Gareth close by, bathing him and eating lunch with him in her room. The lead soldier from the night before returned that evening. He was more polite than he had been on the previous night, even apologizing for the death of Ellie's mabari.

"I demand to see Queen Anora," she responded stridently. "And I want to talk to your lord. If you are here by Rendon Howe's order, then he must answer for this outrage."

"Oh, you'll see him sooner or later, my lady," the man replied, a grin pulling at the corner of his mouth. "He said so himself."

The promised meeting came the following day in the parlor. The arl was obsequious and apologetic. "I am so sorry, Elissa. This all is very unfortunate. My men let their zeal get the better of them. Nevertheless their anger is understandable, since they saw many of their fellows die at your family's hand."

Ellie blanched. "What do you mean? What is all this, Rendon? Please just tell me what is going on."

Howe's face fell and he shook his head. "It is all my fault. I should have taken the matter to the seneschal, but Bryce was an old friend and I wanted to give him another chance to come clean himself." He lifted his hands in a helpless gesture. "I confronted your father with what I had learned of his traitorous dealings with the Orlesians. He flew into a rage and ordered his men to attack me. We were forced to defend ourselves. I fear the fight did not go well for your family, Elissa. I am sorry. Your father is dead."

There was a silence, then Ellie uttered a laugh that sounded like a sob. "This must be a joke."

Rendon shook his head. "I fear there is more. Your mother was battle maiden before you, as you know. When she, too, joined the fray... We had no choice. Your brother, as well. I am afraid that the Couslands are no more. All but you and your son, of course."

"You're lying."

Howe ignored her and went on. "I was on my way here to give you the sad news when we encountered rioters from the alienage, no doubt taking advantage of the absence of guard due to the war in the south. Do not worry, my lady. As trustee of Highever I am bound now to your protection. I will hold the north until we can settle any claim you or the young Mac Tir may yet make. We can hope the Landsmeet will not hold your family's betrayal against you."

"You son of a b*tch." Ellie jumped up, and Howe's men moved to restrain her again, catching her arms. Though her mind had refused to believe it was possible, it was becoming apparent what the game was. With most of Highever's troops gone to the south, Howe had overturned thirty years of friendship and his vows of fealty and hoped to usurp her family's teyrnir. "You will never get away with this. Loghain is going to cut you into little pieces, but only if I don't get you first."

Howe removed a letter from his cloak pocket. "But you see, Elissa I was acting on Teyrn Loghain's authority the entire time. If anyone wishes to challenge that fact, I have the proof right here." He held the letter out, the seal of Gwaren visible on it.

Ellie regarded the letter a moment, then spat towards him, the spittle grazing Loghain's letter on its way to Howe's chest. Her voice was seething. "Loghain was investigating my father, but that is all. If you think that gives you license for murder, you'll find out differently when he and his armies return."

"I think you mean if they return, my lady," Howe answered. "As the Maker wills." His lip curled briefly, then he turned and was gone.

The soldiers released Ellie and returned to their posts. She sat, shakily, and rested her forehead on one hand. Her parents and Fergus, gone. Highever taken. Over and over she examined the phrases as from a distance and tried to force them to sit in her mind. Howe had to be telling the truth. Only if he felt he had a strong upper hand would he have dared to imprison her. He waited now to see if Loghain would return from Ostagar. Gareth could not inherit Highever, but Ellie realized that it was likely that Howe did not know this. Even if he had, it might be too fine a point to matter. Cailan might even be in on it, and in any case would be glad to see her gone. With horror Ellie recalled that he had said that "big changes were coming." He might finally have gotten his revenge for her marriage arrangement, and a more pliable lackey in Highever.

The shadows lengthened around her. Finally Ellie returned to her room and sat down to the dinner the housekeeper had laid out. She said nothing to Anya or Gareth of what Howe had told her. Though he no longer cried and didn't complain, Ellie knew that Gareth was afraid. He had not left her chamber since the first night, and refused to go back to his own even to retrieve his toys and books. It was just as well, for though the housekeeper had cleaned and cleaned, she was still finding spatters of blood in the room. The bedclothes had been soaked through. Ellie tried not to think of her Highever home. When she did, all she could picture was a river of blood pouring through it.

Anya watched Ellie closely while they ate, and later on when Gareth was in his bath, she approached. "What should we do, m'lady?"

Ellie shook her head. "I don't know." Any plan she could conceive of to get out, or to get Anya out to find Anora or other help, ended in her memory of the soldiers dragging Gareth away while she lay helpless to stop them. Loghain, her mind called out, willing him to hear her. She had let these men corner her, and now Gareth might have to pay the price for it.

That night, they were startled awake by shouts and the sound of fighting from the front door. Directing Anya to stay with Gareth, Ellie took a lamp and went to investigate. When she reached the foyer, soldiers pushed her back, but not before she saw a man laid out on the doorstep with his neck half sliced through. In the dim light she recognized his face. It was Trevin Falley, the messenger who often made the journey back and forth from Highever to Denerim. There were other men dead in the yard, but the shouting had stopped.

Falley was trying to get a message to her, and had found other men from Highever still loyal to her father. They had tried to fight their way through. Ellie recalled the messenger speaking of his young children. His eyes were open, wide with anguish, and seemed to stare at her in reproach.

Stumbling back to her chamber, Ellie sank onto the bed next to Anya. "We can't stay here. They're going to kill us. They're going to kill all of us."

"Aye," Anya answered, brown eyes flashing. "I was waitin' for you to realize that, m'lady."

Ellie glanced at the mage, then down at Gareth. Despite all he had been through, the fear seemed to have gone from the little boy. He met her gaze evenly, trustingly. With decision Ellie looked back to Anya. "I'm not going to let them have my son."

"No, m'lady."

"Even if we can get out, I have no idea where to go. Anora might be prisoner, too. Howe's soldiers could be all over Denerim."

Anya hesitated, then leaned in, whispering. "I been thinkin' on it. There are some people in the city I know who are good at hiding. If we can just get to them, they'll know what to do."

"Apostates." Ellie was calm, and also kept her voice low. The fact that they were actually making a plan had settled her.

Nodding, Anya replied, "Aye, secret mages. They'll help us, I know they will. We just have to get out of here."
Ellie looked around. Howe's men had searched the house and taken all her weapons, but perhaps they had not thought to search her boots. Jumping up, she crossed to them and felt a rush of joy when she flipped open the boot sheath and found her Gwaren toothpick still there.

Leaving it in the sheath, she returned, whispering, "Some of Howe's men were killed tonight. They might not have reinforced them yet. I can take at least one with no noise, I'm sure, but if the others raise a cry... No matter what, we can't risk Gareth."

"Men don't yell if they're asleep."

Ellie shook her head. "They don't sleep on duty, and surely they would... Wait, do you mean magic?"

"I'd much rather tear innards, but that'd bring others, as you say. So a sleep or paralysis spell will have to do. Trust me, m'lady. I had years of nothing else to do but study on such things. I know what I'm about."

Gareth spoke up for the first time. "Are we gonna leave, mamma?"

Ellie lifted a finger to her lips to warn him to be quiet, then hesitated, watching him. "We have to, pet. Can you be brave? No matter what happens, I want you to get away, Gareth. Just run and don't look back. Run, do you hear me? Can you do that?"

"They killed Cutha." Gareth spoke calmly, and rather than make him afraid, this outrage seemed to set his determination.

"I know, sweet. I'm sorry." Ellie took the boy into her arms and held him, cheek resting on his head. It was a terrible risk, but more dreadful was the thought that the men might come for Gareth at any moment and she would have done nothing. Tears filled her eyes. When she turned her head slightly to look at Anya, however, the mage's expression was set firm.

"You said it yerself, m'lady. We have to do it, and we should do it now."

Ellie fought back the claw of fear she knew would unsteady her dagger hand if she let it take hold. If they managed to escape, there was no guarantee that they could hide for long or make it out of Denerim. If Cailan was in on Howe's plans, then their fate, and likely Anora's too, rested on one thing. Ellie formed it in a wordless plea. Loghain, please hurry.

14 Bloomingtide, 9:30 Dragon Age. Teymouth Green, north of Lothering.

They were told not to strike tents, but in short order the meadow was filled with the smoke of cookfires. Much as he wanted to march on to Denerim without a stop, Loghain knew the men needed a meal and his officers to hear from him. Grim-faced, the men reported in one by one. Cauthrien stood beside Loghain, arms crossed. The Gwaren banner snapped in the wind behind them. It was a southerly wind, adding the stench of death to the smell of roasting meat from the breakfast fires.

When the officers had assembled, Loghain raised his voice above the camp din. "I know you have questions. None of us are happy about quitting a field where our brothers are still fighting. It was necessary. You all saw what I saw, or you have heard from those who did." He looked around at the officers, trying to read their faces. Some nodded in acknowledgement, others appeared more doubtful.

"There was no end to the horde," a captain from Gwaren supplied. "We would have been overwhelmed." Though there were a few nods, others did not acknowledge this, and there was grumbling. Not everyone agreed.

Cauthrien spoke up, dark eyes blazing. "If the Teyrn says we had to leave, then we had to leave."

Loghain lifted a hand to quiet his second, but shot her an approving glance all the same. Turning back to the others, he lifted his chin. "We might have won. I have confidence in you and in your troops, do not doubt it. But at what cost? Men, I have learned that an army of chevaliers is massing on our western border. They may already have crossed into Fereldan territory. There are four legions of them, along with Grey Wardens. It may be that these Wardens were acting in concert with some of those at Ostagar, but that is something I will see to. Some of you have fought chevaliers before, or your fathers have. Four legions." He let the number sink in a moment, then went on, "We must unite ourselves before we can meet this threat and the remaining darkspawn. In the days of King Brandel, Ferelden lost not because of Orlesian might but due to Fereldan disunity and cowardice. We lost many men last night, but their sacrifice will not be in vain. Lieutenant Riven, you and your division are to ride up the North Road in all haste to intercept the Orlesians and turn them back, by force if necessary."

The lieutenant with coal-black hair straightened as his name was spoken. He had been Loghain's choice to lead the vanguard that stood at the head of the valley in Ostagar, and had Cailan not stepped in, the teyrn knew he would have accepted the post though it meant almost certain death. He was the son of a war veteran, as able and Fereldan as many a Gwaren soldier. Riven was also quick to smile, but his mouth was now twisted in a frown. "We are not enough to take on four legions, Teyrn Loghain. Not nearly enough. With Grey Wardens too? Spies they may be, but they're also fierce fighters."

"I know," Loghain agreed. "You will need to pick up reinforcements on your way. Most of the Bannorn did not send troops to Ostagar. I will give you a writ of authority to conscript as many as you need, still keeping haste as your priority. Secure Gherlen Pass if possible, and if they are too much for you then fall back and harry them as you can until you get reinforcements. Once Denerim and the queen are secure, I'll send as many men as I can."

Riven's face remained grave, though he nodded. "And the ports? The Orlesians could land troops by ship. Someone should inform Highever and Amaranthine."

Loghain's cheek twitched. The news that something had happened in Highever had not spread far. They all their hands full fighting darkspawn. "I have reason to believe that Highever is secure for now. When I reach Denerim, I'll send word on from there."

"What about the king?" The question had come from one of the men at the rear of the assembly, but all faces turned to Loghain expectantly.

He didn't hesitate. "Ferelden has no king. He fell to his own arrogance and to the false promises of the Grey Wardens. Rest assured, men, that Queen Anora will not make the same mistake. She is your sovereign now, and you will do everything in your power to defend her and this nation."

"The nobles will support us?" another man, closer to the front, asked. As experienced soldiers, all the men and women in the assembly had had to reckon with the whims of nobility. Not all of Ferelden's nobles were soldiers, let alone capable ones, but they had the power of life and death over those under them nonetheless. The traditionalists among them considered Anora and Loghain commoners, beneath their own level despite their accomplishments. This view was strongest in Redcliffe, but had pockets of support in the Bannorn as well, as the extremists of the Dragon Society tried to exploit. It was a fact that made his soldiers revere the Hero of River Dane the more.

Loghain's fist clenched reflexively. "Leave them to me."

As the officers were dismissed, a page informed him that someone was waiting to speak with him. "A mage, ser," the boy said nervously. There might be a horde of darkspawn close by, but one mage in their midst was also cause for anxiety.

"I'll see him."

A few moments later a bald, hawk-nosed man dressed in a dark leather and chain robe approached. He had a black hardwood staff, set at the top with a milky crystal stone, slung over one shoulder. Loghain recognized him from the strategy meeting the night before the battle. Only the previous night, and yet it seemed like an age had passed since then. "Speak quickly, ser mage," he ordered curtly. "I have little time to spare."

The mage bowed. "I am Senior Enchanter Uldred, of the Circle of Magi."

"I remember." Loghain's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Were you not in the battle?"

His dark eyes flickered, whether from guilt or nervousness Loghain could not tell. "I was, with several of my fellows. I am afraid... well, your grace, here we all are. With so few of us and so many of the darkspawn, we were lucky to get out with our lives. You intend to fight on, do you not?"

Loghain gestured noncommittally. "If the darkspawn do not return to the Deep Roads, naturally we will. I must see to the safety of the Queen first."

"As you should. With King Cailan dead, there will be much unrest. Tell me, your grace, is it true that you alone of all the nobles in Ferelden have maintained a court mage? This, despite the tyrannical restrictions placed on us by the Grand Cleric in recent years?"

"She is my wife's bondmage, not mine."

"Yes, but I understand you intervened with the Grand Cleric to keep her in your wife's service."

Loghain could see Cauthrien hovering nearby, waiting to confer with him. He gestured impatiently. "Get the point."

"Immediately, your grace. My point is this: In the troubled times ahead, those of us who are of like mind and common interest must help one another. If the Chantry's restrictions were loosened, mages might be of great help in your battles. I have influence in the Circle, and reason to believe I may soon have more. You and I may be able to help one another."

"As much help as you were to our armies last night?" The man's face darkened and he sputtered, but Loghain cut him off with a lift of his hand. He paused, considering. There had once been a mage who had cut a different impression than most Circle mages he had seen. Wilhelm was court mage to Rowan's father and had fought in the rebellion. Between his spells and his golem, he was like an army unto himself. Even Anya, rumpled matron that she was, had proven her usefulness. She had also once reproved Loghain for not seeing mages as tools to be employed the way he moved soldiers on a battlefield.

Loghain glanced at Uldred, sizing him up. Something was shifty about the man, but the country was at war on two fronts and it was not the time to be choosy. "I make no promises, but if you can secure this influence you say you can, then I will see what I can do for you. I don't need more child minders, however. Only battle mages will be of use to me."

Uldred smiled, seeming elated at the teyrn's proposal. "Nothing worthwhile comes without risk, your grace. Trust me when I say that with even a few mages such as myself and my allies, you will have more power than that of all your armies."

"We'll see about that." Loghain turned, dismissing the mage, and stepped over to where Cauthrien was waiting.

By midday the armies were moving again, a little more than half taking the West Road towards Denerim with Loghain, the rest moving off to the west. Loghain sent out messengers, as well, summoning the lords of the Bannorn to Denerim. When all this was arranged, he turned his remaining men north and made for the capital. Though it was a hard march, every minute was a interminable span. There were no messengers on the road, nothing to indicate what was going on in Denerim.

Two days later, Loghain found himself standing in an empty house. There had been no Orlesians in Denerim's streets, but Ellie. He went through the house calling for Ellie and Gareth, his voice echoing on the walls. Heart pounding with fear, he rushed to the palace was told to find the queen meeting within with Rendon Howe. Loghain burst through the meeting chamber doors and took in the sight of Anora seated at the table, Howe standing next to her. In only a few seconds he closed the distance with Howe and shoved at his chest with a gauntleted hand. He still wore his armor and greatcloak, stained by the road and by darkspawn blood.

Howe's eyes flared and he seemed to shrink as Loghain bellowed, "Where is she?"

"Your grace, I..."

"Where are my wife and son? If you so much as laid a hand on either one of them, you are a dead man."

"They're missing, Father," Anora said quietly.

Loghain turned on her as though to rail at her, too. "Missing?"

Howe answered. "Your grace, I sent men to see to the Teyrna's protection. She took it upon herself to leave with the boy. I have men out searching for her, but she has not been seen in some days."

"Because you also took it upon yourself to slaughter her parents?" Out of the corner of his eye, Loghain saw that Anora was not shocked by the news, and that was confirmation. So it was true. Bryce and Eleanor had really been slain. He kept a menacing gaze fixed on Howe.

Lifting his hands, Howe conceded. "I had no choice, your grace. Bryce attacked me when I confronted him with what I knew. He meant to kill me and to keep his treachery quiet, but I have witness testimony that he was about to help King Cailan bring an Orlesian force into Ferelden. For years he had been allowing Orlesian agents to enter the country through Highever." Howe paused, regarding Loghain and asking hopefully, "Tell me, is it true, then? Has Cailan really fallen?"

"Cailan is dead." Loghain saw Anora move once again, her head sinking into her hands. He turned to her and softened his tone. "The darkspawn attack was too numerous and Cailan had insisted on being on the front lines. We had no choice but to pull out with what troops we had left."

Howe shifted. "Then you still have your army?"

Shifting his gaze back to the arl, Loghain eyed him suspiciously. The question had seemed an innocent one, but he couldn't help but think that Howe sounded disappointed. "Yes, I have my army. They're going to turn this city inside out to find my family. You had better hope that they do, Rendon. Now leave us. I would speak with my daughter alone."

Howe frowned and hesitated, but finally retreated. Loghain watched him go before turning back to his daughter, stepping to meet her as she rose. "Are you alright? What in the Maker's name is going on?"

"Father, I am so glad that you are alright. We heard reports that you were on your way back to Denerim, but it is hard to tell rumor from truth." She smiled briefly before resuming her earnest expression. "It's true. Howe has taken Highever, and his men are all over Denerim now, as well. We were actually fortunate that he arrived when he did. There was rioting in the city, mostly in the alienage, and the guard was overwhelmed. I don't know what happened to Elissa and Gareth. The first I knew of their disappearance was after the fact. As I said, everything is so confused..."
"I told you to watch over them. How could you let this happen?"

Anora's cheeks colored. "What was I supposed to do, Father? Cailan emptied the palace of royal guard, leaving me with dotard courtiers and the servants. You could have left some of your men to replace them, but you didn't. I've done the best I can to restore order."

The accusation stung but was an accurate one. Loghain turned, pacing. "If there has been no ransom demand, then perhaps Ellie did leave on her own." It was also possible that Howe had killed them and disposed of the bodies, but that was not a scenario he would allow himself to face until he had to. "Where could she have gone? Have you searched the Couslands' estate?"

"I sent Erlina. There was no one there." After a long silence, Loghain felt Anora's hand on his arm. "Go home, Father. You look exhausted. We'll keep searching."

His eyes shut, and behind them there was blackness. He was beyond exhausted, but Loghain feared sleep. There were too many nightmares lying in wait. To the image of a man in golden armor being trampled into the mud by darkspawn feet, wearing Maric's face instead of Cailan's, now would be added that of white bodies floating on the Hafter River. He saw Ellie and his son staring up at the sky with wide, empty eyes.

"Father."

The pressure of Anora's hand stirred Loghain from the standing half-sleep. He blinked, allowing her face come into focus. "I have to find them."

"We will." She hesitated, swallowing, then seemed to steel herself. "Did Cailan suffer? Was it... did he..."

Loghain's jaw set. "It's done, and you are free of him, Anora. There is much to do, but I have to find Ellie and Gareth first. I am putting my men on guard here. Howe does not leave this place until I am sure my family is safe."

"I understand." She let him go, stepping back.

Two days later, he was standing in the watch post of the city guard loudly berating the guard captain when he noticed the man, Kylon, looking past him at someone who had entered from the street. Loghain turned. The visitor was a woman in a dark cloak with hood drawn.

When she saw his face, Ellie pulled the hood back. Her face was ashen, and there were dark circles under her eyes to match his. "Loghain."

They both closed the distance in a matter of seconds, Loghain taking her face in his hands and kissing her. "Where have you been, Elissa?" His tone was reproachful even as he continued to kiss her, heedless of the guard that watched them. Abruptly he pulled back. "Where's Gareth?"

"He's safe. You're alright?" She gave him a quick, anxious inspection.

"I'm fine. Why did you leave the residence? I've been looking all over the city for you."

"I know, and you're not the only one." Her eyes flashed and she related to him the account of Howe's men coming to the house, their imprisonment and the escape they made past men put into a strange waking sleep by Anya's magic. Ellie had not had to bloody her dagger at all. "He's been out looking for us ever since. We hid, moving from house to house when necessary. Where is Howe now?" She glanced nervously behind her, apparently expecting the arl to appear at any moment.

"In the palace. Come home now, Ellie, and bring Gareth home. Nothing will happen to either of you, I swear. I'm here now."

"You heard about my parents and Fergus?" Loghain nodded, took a breath, then gave her the news that Fergus had made it to Ostagar and had become a Grey Warden there. Her eyes widened with hope, but it faded again when his expression remained sober. Ellie supplied the rest. "He is dead, too. Dead at Ostagar, with Cailan's armies."

"I'm sorry, Ellie."

Her eyes took on a dull, weary rage. "Howe has to die. You need to put this right, Loghain. If you do not, then I will."

Loghain reached up to brush back a lock of her hair. The formless guilt he had felt already in Ostagar returned. Even though the worst of his fears hadn't been realized, he had failed her and Gareth nonetheless. Despite this, he would not make empty promises simply to comfort her. Too much had changed, and too much was yet unclear. "Come home."

Her anger receding back to a dull sadness, Ellie leaned up to kiss his cheek. "I am glad you are well. I thought I might never see you again." Before Loghain could reply, she turned quickly, drawing her hood up again as she departed. He thought to set men on her to follow her, but she was gone in the crowd before he could summon them.

They returned home that evening after nightfall. Loghain met them in the foyer and caught Gareth up into his arms, crushing him against his chest until the boy squirmed. Releasing him, Loghain bent to one knee and held Gareth's arms, staring as though he had forgotten what his son looked like. He and Ellie were wearing plain homespun, workmen's garments.

Though his father was speechless with relief, Gareth had no such limitation. "You came back, da. Did you win the war? When you was gone we had to run away. Anya and mamma and me. We stayed with a bunch of people and couldn't come home, and Cutha's dead."

"I'm home now, Gareth, and all that is past. No one's going to hurt you."

"Cutha died," the boy repeated. "He fought those men and they hit him with their swords. I tried to fight, too, but I didn't have a sword and there was lots of them."

"What those soldiers did was a terrible thing. It was a mistake." Out of the corner of his eye, Loghain saw Ellie flinch and look away, but he kept his eyes trained on Gareth. "They shouldn't have done that. You were very brave, lieutenant, and you took good care of your mother, just as I asked you to do. I'm proud of you."

Gareth glanced uncertainly at his mother before a smile cautiously broke and he seemed to accept the praise. "I'm glad you're back, da."

Loghain's voice was hoarse. "So am I."

Though Ellie kissed him lightly and moved about the house, helping Anya to fix them a dinner of the staples left in the pantry, she seemed not to be fully present. Both women spoke in hushed tones. Gareth took a bath in Ellie's room and alone of all of them seemed gradually to recover his spirits, giggling as Loghain pulled nightclothes over his head and hoisted him up to carry him bodily to his own room. Releasing the four year-old to his own feet, Loghain crossed to light the bedside lamp. When he turned back, he saw that Gareth still stood in the doorway, one hand worrying the fabric of his pajamas. The boy's eyes moved warily around the room.

Loghain approached and rested a hand on his head. "Come on, lieutenant. It will be alright. To bed with you." After a pause Gareth complied, crossing to his bed and climbing in. He watched, silent and serious, while his father drew up the covers and composed them. When that was finished, father and son regarded each other silently. On any other night he would have offered a story, but Loghain guessed that real events had overtaken the pleasant terrors of their usual tales. Brushing a hand over his son's dampened brow, he repeated softly, "It's alright. You're safe, my boy. Sleep now."

Ellie was waiting for him in his chambers, and accepted his embrace, though her arms were rigid. She smelled of lye soap and wet wool. As Loghain kissed her hair at her temple and then at her ear, she gradually relaxed and brought her arms up around his back. He was not surprised when her shoulders shuddered and she began to sob. Likely she had been holding it back all the while, ever since hearing the news of her family. When the storm seemed to ease, Loghain released her and caressed her cheek, brushing the remnants of tears from her cheek with his thumb. His voice was quiet, entreating her. "Give me a few days, Ellie. The city is in an uproar and there are Orlesians..." He stopped as he saw that Ellie's expression remained weary and blank, unmoved. "Just give me some time."

Her reply was hollow but emphatic. "He must answer."

Ellie turned and after a moment Loghain followed, extinguishing the lamps. He held her, resisting his own much-needed sleep as he waited for her breathing to slow. Some time later the door cracked open and small footsteps approached. A moment later Gareth climbed into the bed and wormed his way between his parents, settling in between them with a sigh. Loghain made room, then reached an arm across both his son and his wife. They were alive. It was all that mattered, but was still cold comfort. Apart from this bare fact, it was obvious that nothing was the same, nor ever would be.


End chapter 26.

Modifié par Addai67, 13 avril 2011 - 04:13 .

[Maria13]

I'm sorry, you've addicted me too now...

Hmmm, Loghain may end up having to dodge Ellie too...