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[Addai]

Thanks all, I appreciate the readership and the kind comments. 

Modifié par Addai67, 19 septembre 2011 - 03:28 .

[alschemid]

Yay! Another great chapter.
Wating for more... and for some Loghain's love too.

[Addai]

Chapter 35

Summerday, 9:31 Dragon Age. Kirkwall, Free Marches.

Anya pulled Gareth back, his arms and legs still flailing, his tunic sleeve torn half off. The other boy had gotten it worse. That one lay sprawled on the ground, blood streaming from his nose, the other children gathered around chattering and staring. The adults were staring, too. They were mostly Fereldans, gathered in the dirty square in Lowtown for what passed for a Summerday feast.

"Let me go!" Gareth struggled against Anya, wanting to finish the job on the bleeding boy. Over Anya's arm he yelled back at him, "That's for saying my father is a traitor! Bet you won't say it again."

"Gilean..." Anya began, reproving.

"I'm NOT Gilean!" Loud enough for the entire square to hear, he shouted, "My name is GARETH. My father is the Hero of River Dane and he's NOT a traitor! He's not!"

Anya's eyes went wide and she hissed at Gareth to stop, but when she looked back at the crowd, they were all laughing. "And I'm the empress of Orlais," one of the matrons called back, sweeping her apron out. "Welcome to me court, little lord."

"Orlais. No wonder the ale tastes like goat ******," a man said. There were more such calls, but Anya was halfway down the alley and heard no more.

Eventually Gareth stopped fighting her and walked on his own. When they reached the step of Gamlen Amell's house, he dragged on Anya's hand again. "I don't want to go in there. It smells bad and the man is mean."

Anya bent down, taking his shoulders. Gareth's face was hot red, his eyes blazing with anger but shiny with the tears that he always held back. "Now you listen to me, boy. What those others say, that doesn't mean anything. You have to let it go. People are just talking, that's all."

"They said my da killed the king. He wouldn't do that. Cailan was my friend. My da is a hero."

She could see him clinging to these truths like a ship to its anchor during a hard storm. "Gil..."

"I'm not Gil."

"You are now," Anya answered wearily.

"I'm not!" Before she could grab him again, Gareth slipped past her and took off on a run. The mage let him go. An hour later, she sent Alun on to the Hanged Man. She knew the boy would be holed up there with Varric Tethras, listening to the dwarf's filthy stories and eating him out of his last crumb. Since the dwarf encouraged the boy, paid the waitstaff to let Gareth in and to keep an eye on him if he himself wasn't there, Anya considered this just deserts.

When Alun had dragged him home, Gareth shot Anya a black look as he crossed over to his pallet on the floor. She clucked her tongue at him. "What will your mother say to me when she hears you've been running wild in the streets of Kirkwall?"

"I'm Gil Hawke," Gareth answered dully. "He hasn't got a mother." The boy lay down, his back to her, and pretended to sleep.

***

Summerday, 9:31 Dragon Age. Denerim.

"Lords and ladies of Ferelden, hear me. My father is no longer the man you know. This man is not the Hero of River Dane. This man turned his troops aside and refused to protect your king as he fought bravely against the darkspawn. This man seized Cailan's throne before his body was cold, and locked me away so I could not reveal his treachery. I might have already been killed, if not for this Grey Warden."

A ripple of gasps and shocked whispers coursed throughout the chamber. Loghain stood wooden, listening. Though he knew what was coming and accepted the necessity of what Anora had to do in this hall to survive, his daughter's words still hit him like lances. The half-truths and exaggerations were what politics was made of, the game that he and Maric had always hated but had to play. Anora was much better suited to it. Her face was a mask and her voice was solemn, not wavering. Loghain could not tell how much she really believed of what she said. They had not spoken since the day she disappeared and he killed Rendon Howe. Fergus Cousland had been their go-between, and so he still was today.

When Anora finished, Fergus stepped forward. "The queen speaks the truth. Loghain was our hero once, our commander for many years, but no longer. It is time to turn the throne back over to those who rightfully hold it, and to choose another to lead Ferelden's armies."

Loghain could feel his neck hot, his stomach sour. The humiliation burned like a brand. He held it back and looked around the room, trying to read the burst of chatter and the expressions in the gallery. Anora was looking around at them, too, then Loghain caught the worried glance that she cast in his direction. They had hoped that casting blame for the military and political failures of the past year on Loghain would be enough to shield Anora and turn the lords' confidence toward her and the Wardens. Grudgingly, Loghain had agreed to that plan, but the doubt in the room was still palpable. There were cries of "We need Loghain! The darkspawn are coming!" Others were shouting back. It was still an impasse.

Before Loghain could step forward to speak, Teagan's voice rang out from the gallery. "My lords and ladies. I am not a vengeful man, nor is my brother. Nevertheless we are just men. Loghain has failed us, and though we are afraid, we will never stand together so long as the throne is in his shadow. Queen Anora said this herself, but for love of her father she stopped short. I will tell you what the queen is not willing to say." The man's face was long, sorrowful. He hesitated so long that whispering began again. Finally he said, "Loghain must die for his crimes."

Loghain drew a breath. He was not surprised, and in fact it was the logical thing. Fair or not, the failure at Ostagar and the subsequent failure to unite the country had to be blamed on someone. Loghain was determined to shield Anora from it. If there had been another Grey Warden on the floor other than his wife's brother, he might have tried to turn it on them. It would be easy to do. Many still remembered the Grey Wardens' treason two centuries before. They were the ones at the king's side in Ostagar, and Cousland could easily be implicated for stirring up the civil war. Doing so would blacken Ellie, however. And that was also impossible.

"So be it," Loghain said, accepting the sentence. He spoke it aloud, but there was so much shouting in the Landsmeet chamber that no one heard him but the guards standing nearby.

Over the din Anora shouted to be heard, and finally the chamber quieted. "My father must face justice, it is true.  But there is another way." Turning, she beckoned behind her to a dark-haired man in poor leather armor. Loghain did not recognize him, and his mind spun trying to figure out what trick Anora had up her sleeve.

At that moment the rear door of the chamber opened, and a mass of soldiers spilled in to the main floor. They had obviously ridden hard; even from the front, Loghain could smell sweat and horse and metal oil. Out from the middle of them stepped a woman in red steel armor and a black surcoat, a red-plumed helmet tucked under her arm. The banns on the main floor parted to let her and her coterie through. Across the crowd Loghain heard the name "Fox" ripple and echo.

Loghain's heart fell. The thought of Ellie denouncing him had been a comfort just a moment before, because it meant she would be free, and safe. But he had not wanted to go to his death with those words in his ears. He had not wanted her to see it. His knees weakened under him a little.

Anora was waiting for the crowd to settle down again, and staring at Ellie, trying to read her. Ellie's face was impassive. Finally Anora turned once more and gestured at the dark-haired man. "This is Riordan of the Grey Wardens. He was taken prisoner by Rendon Howe, tortured, and rescued by the Couslands. Now I beg you hear him."

The dark-haired Warden nodded at the queen and cleared his throat. "You want to know whether to follow Loghain or to follow the Wardens. Do both. The teyrn is a warrior and a general of renown. Let him be of use." At this, the Orlesian turned to address Fergus. "Let him go through the Joining. Let him become a Grey Warden."

Loghain reared around, staring. The younger Cousland was also obviously taken aback. "You want him to become a Grey Warden?" Fergus, asked, uncertain.

Anora broke in, saying earnestly, "The Joining itself is often fatal, is it not? If he survives, you gain a general. If not, you have your revenge. Doesn't that satisfy you?"

The queen spoke with calm authority. She had planned this, Loghain realized. This was her doing, her arrangement with the Orlesian Warden to save her father's life and bargain for favor with the Warden order. Grimly, Loghain marveled at the art of it.

Fergus was still trying to catch up, frowning and considering. From behind him, a strident voice rose in challenge. "Absolutely not!" Eyes turned towards the speaker. It was Alistair, Maric's bastard. His eyes were blazing. "Riordan, this man abandoned our brothers and then blamed us for the deed. He hunted us down like animals. He tortured you! How can we simply forget that?"

For a time the Wardens argued amongst themselves, Alistair's voice rising in anger, Fergus' low and reasoning. Riordan stood between them, mostly silent, his arms crossed. Occasionally he put in a comment and it was obvious that the argument was two to one, and that Alistair was losing it. Loghain's eyes slipped towards Ellie. She was watching her brother, but as though sensing Loghain's gaze, her eyes shifted to meet it. He did not know what to do. That had not happened to him often, and now when it was most important, he could not see the way ahead. Anora's plan was a good one, a perfect alignment of mutual interests. He did not want to be a Warden, but the thought of dying in disgrace while Ellie and his daughter looked on made him sick with anguish. That it should end that way... What do you want? he thought, gazing at Ellie. Tell me what to do.

A moment later Ellie stepped forward, raising her arm for quiet. The nobles' eyes all turned on her, those in back craning to see. She was Loghain's wife and his enemy, and none knew what to expect. The banns standing behind her shifted and casted nervous glances among themselves. They had accepted her leadership, but no one pretended to understand it.

"My lords and ladies," Ellie called. "You know me. I am Elissa Mac Tir, born Cousland. I am the Red Fox. We have fought together and bled together, but it was the blood of our brothers we shed. Now an enemy is coming for us who has no thought for titles or of thrones." Ellie stopped, and began pointing at men in the crowd. "Bann Isley, last winter your men raided your neighbor's cattle and blamed another bann for the deed, so that you could profit twice from their feud. Bann Torren. You denounced Bann Evald as an Orlesian spy to Howe, giving him pretext to attack, using your men as infantry. His hall lies sacked and burned, his children put to the sword." There were several more accusations. Ellie knew these men. Loghain had heard that she had taken hostages. She had their brothers and sons in her own army, and obviously had not been idle at studying them.

Finally her arm swung around to Cormac ap Feil. The bann had entered with her, but stood now with his son and a few liegemen, hands braced on his hips "Bann Cormac. You sacked Gwaren and killed innocent people, set fire to the town. Your men laid hands on me and would have killed me but for your greed for ransom. My son was forced to flee, and we do not know where he is or if he still lives. Yet I do not ask for your blood. I ask for you to fight with me." Ap Feil scowled at her but said nothing. Ellie went on, addressing those in the gallery. "If you have been spared the ravages of war, my lords and ladies, it is by the Maker's grace. Your time is coming. Haven't we bled enough? Haven't enough people died?"

Her eyes swiveled around to Loghain. "My husband has made mistakes. His guilt is not in question, but he always serves Ferelden. Let him still do so. The Couslands and Mac Tirs have an alliance and we stand by it. The darkspawn are coming. If the Grey Wardens will have Loghain, then let him join their ranks."

Loghain felt his tension ease. She had answered his question. He did not know if he liked the answer, but as their eyes held, he saw that she didn't like it, either. What else she was thinking, it was impossible to read. Among the banns, there were black glares. Some saw this as betrayal. They didn't challenge her, however. Either they did not have the will, or they saw that it would do no good.

From the gallery, Teagan called down, "Teyrna Elissa. If we accept these terms, Loghain loses all land and title? He steps down from the regency, and the queen rules alone?"

"All that and more, Bann Teagan." Anora spoke this time, answering. "If he survives the Blight, he will leave Ferelden. You will have no cause to doubt who rules." She had said it coldly, but afterward cast a glance at her father. Down to the last brutal necessity. Loghain's face was impassive, but he felt a strange pride. She had always been willing to move even him, if it meant she kept the throne. Once it had been to marry him off. Now she was maneuvering him again, she and Ellie. Yet they had done well.

"No!" Alistair stepped forward, shaking with rage. "No! I will not stand for this. I didn't want to be king, but if that's what it takes to make sure Loghain gets justice, then I'll do it. I'll take the crown."

Loghain glared back, but found it strangely fitting, and an uneasy guilt nagged at him. He thought of Maric's letter, requiring him to put Alistair in the succession if the need was dire. Maric had left it to him to figure out what "dire" meant. Yet the witch would probably laugh to see this turn of events, Maric's bastard back to condemn him.

Anora turned sharply, beginning to lose her calm reserve. The Theirin in the room was the greatest threat to her rule, if he found patrons in the chamber. "Listen to this! You would put your own selfish desire for revenge above the needs of Ferelden. What sort of king would you make?"

Fergus interjected, his tone reluctant, "Alistair is Maric's son. He has a legitimate claim. If he wants the throne, we have to put it to a vote."

Loghain could see that Anora wanted to find some way to disallow this. The wheels of her mind were turning, calculating, casting for an objection. Loghain could think of a way, but apparently she had not come up on it yet. By ancient Fereldan law, when the tribes of Clayne would come together for their meet and there was a dispute they could not settle, they would let the gods decide. The practice was little used any longer but still survived. Maric had invoked it, to end the war with the Orlesians. Loghain could invoke it now, and challenge this Alistair to a duel. The boy was young but upset as he was, it would be easy to exploit his anger to beat him. Yet there was a chance that Loghain could lose, and Anora's throne was on the line. He kept silent.

Anora was staring down at the floor. Finally she looked up. "There is another possibility. A compromise. It was your suggestion, Warden." Her eyes met Fergus', then she gestured with her head towards Alistair.

Fergus' brow lifted. "If that is what you wish." Turning to address the assembly, he said, "Queen Anora and Alistair might marry and share the throne. The line of Calenhad will be preserved, and our ruling queen still keep her place. I hold this the best course for all of us."

Loghain saw the anger in Alistair's eyes burn lower, turning into a deep resentment. It burned toward Fergus now. The two Wardens stared at each other, but finally Alistair backed down. Snarling, he said, "Fine. If you want Loghain in the Wardens so badly, then you can have him, but you'll not have me. I'm leaving the order to marry this murderer's daughter."

As one, the chamber let out a breath. People could sense that it was all drawing to a close, and against all likelihood, the many swords in the hall had remained in their scabbards. A vote was called for. It proceeded quickly and with no dissent, though Teagan paused long before giving his assent. As the lords were voting, Loghain caught Anora's eye. Her face was white. It reminded him of Ellie, who had stood white-faced on the Gwaren green as she was married to him. Loghain could also see the sadness in Anora's eyes. It was likely that he was the only one who would ever see it.

Ellie was among the crowd and Loghain could not see her anymore. In the voting had heard her say, "I speak for Highever and for Gwaren. Hail to Queen Anora and to Alistair who will be king."

After the voting was complete, Anora said some rousing words about fighting the darkspawn and turned over control of the armies to Fergus Cousland. It was over. Loghain went off toward the back foyer, unsure any longer what to do. His head swam.

Fergus Cousland came up to him. "I have some things to do here. I'll see you back at the palace." Numbly, Loghain nodded, and headed in that direction. People parted from him and avoided his eyes. Some looked angry, others uncertain, even pitying. He hated both and was glad to be in his rooms, away from the scrutiny.

Cauthrien found him there first. "My lord, I heard what happened. A Warden? Can they do that to you?"

Loghain was sitting on a bench by the wall, leaned over on his knees. "It could have been much worse. Here, help me out of my armor. It appears I won't be needing it today."

When he was down to his black tunic and hose, Cauthrien lingered. Loghain did not know what to say to her. She had been with him longer than anyone, always loyal, never requiring anything of him. Now he had nothing more to give her. Eyes downcast, she asked, "My lord, what should I do?"

"I'm not a lord anymore, Cauthrien. And not your commander. You should go on as you have, leading men yourself."
"Was I right to let her ladyship into the hall?"

Loghain smirked at this. "You tried to stop her, eh? She had a right to be there."

"She betrayed you. I thought she might make trouble for you, in the Landsmeet."

"Elissa did what she felt was necessary, then and today."

"As you say, my lord." Cauthrien wove on her feet, half turning to go. She stopped and said, "My lord. Loghain. You are still my commander."

He smiled tiredly. "Thank you, Cauthrien."

Fergus and Ellie came in as the knight was departing. Cauthrien gave them a pointed look as she passed, not altogether friendly. She took slights to Loghain very personally, and was stubborn in holding resentments. A very Fereldan trait. Loghain loved her for it.

He sat back down on the wall bench, avoided Ellie's eyes and spoke to Fergus instead. "You've come to take me off to this 'Joining.' Something the Orlesians cooked up, no doubt."

Fergus smiled. "Not yet. Riordan has some preparations to make, and the mages have to, uh..." He looked back at the hallway, gesturing vaguely. "Do mage things. I'll come collect you when we're ready." Exchanging a look with his sister, Fergus left them.

Ellie stood, uncertain, and finally said, "I got a message from Riven. They've seen darkspawn south and east of Redcliffe. The horde appears to be moving there from Southern. Fergus wants to march as soon as... when they're done with you."

"I don't suppose Riven was doing any good sitting on his thumbs at Gherlen Pass," Loghain replied glumly.

"No. Fergus will send for the Orlesian Wardens, but we agreed. No chevaliers, not yet. Not unless the worst happens."

"They didn't even try to cross. Keeping Riven there so long, that was... a tactical error." He bit down on the gall of this as he said it. It was bitter indeed that not only had he been wrong about both the Blight and the Orlesians, he had been utterly, disastrously wrong.

Ellie moved closer, taking a seat on the bench some space from him. Loghain stole a quick glance at her. She had also removed her armor, and looked to have found somewhere to wash and change into fresh hose and tunic. He felt a sudden ache in his groin, and cursed it silently. That was the last thing he should be thinking about.

"I'll speak to the Grand Cleric tomorrow," Loghain said at last, forcing the words. "If I live, that is. She won't object to an annulment. You should still be able to keep your title, and Gareth, too, I hope. That bastard of Maric's will make trouble, but Anora should be able to manage it."

She nodded, not looking at him. Her face was taut. "About Gareth..."

"I tried to send word, but no ships are crossing. We should keep trying, tell them to stay away. Alun should keep him there until the Blight is defeated."

Ellie rubbed a hand over her eyes. "I should have gone with him." Her voice broke. "He begged me to go. If I had done it, I would never have involved myself with the banns. I wouldn't have... killed those people. Your men."

Turning his head to look at her fully, Loghain answered vehemently, "Don't you blame yourself. Not for any of it. You probably saved Gareth's life. He'll be alright. He's our boy, yours and mine." Loghain paused, then drew a bloody scrap of leather out from his pocket and handed it to her. From her face, he saw that Ellie recognized her glove immediately. "They brought it to me. The message said Bann Matthus. I don't know now if it was really him or Howe all along, but they were going to try to unseat Anora. I couldn't risk that, so I tried to find you by another way."

"Bann Matthus? Oswin." Ellie's thoughts worked, then her face blanched. "That's why you had those men hanged. You were looking for me. Holy Maker."

"I just wanted you to understand."

Ellie was gripping the glove, and shook her head. "What a bloody awful mess. I didn't think this could get any worse."
"You should have come to me," he said quietly. "Sent a message. Maker's breath, I thought you were dead."

"And I thought you were trying to kill my brother." She forced a teary smile, adding, "A tactical error."

"So it seems." After a moment's silence he reached a hand to her shoulder, touched it tentatively.

Ellie flinched. "Loghain. No. I can't."

He drew back. "It's alright." There was an impasse then. After a long silence, Loghain lifted his brow and said, "'The Red Fox'?"

She laughed, embarrassed. "That wasn't my idea. I needed to hide, but had it been left to me, I'd have been Ser Winifred or something."

"Charming. You won the banns over, at any rate."

"It wasn't hard." As his eyebrow flew up, she explained, "You were losing them, Loghain, even as it appeared that you had won everything. Empress Celene taught me the danger to such a situation."

"Oh, wonderful. You're applying strategy from Orlais now."

"I'm serious. You remember the tournament I fought in, the game the Orlesian nobles were playing? They wanted to make Cailan look foolish, to anger him so that it would ruin the diplomatic mission. All along Cailan thought he was winning, but it was only a facade."

"And I suppose you also learned the art of disguise in Orlais," Loghain replied wryly. "You played a knight then, too, as I recall."

"Maybe," she allowed, smiling. "You always said to study your enemy."

Loghain watched her, aching now in his throat more than the lower regions. It had been months since they had sat like this, just talking. There had been no one at all to talk to in that long. Afraid that she would leave if the conversation flagged, he asked, "Highever is secure?"

"Yes. If my father was in the hole before, we're under the hole now, but I gave what I could to re-stock the castle. I think that we should use Highever as a last stand if the rest of the country falls."

"Good. A desperate plan, but you've done well to think that far ahead." Loghain's eyes lowered. "Thank you, for what you did in the Landsmeet."

"It was the right thing. Killing you, that would have served no one." Ellie turned towards him. "Fergus said that Anora was telling the truth about this Joining. You could die from it."

"I suppose." He met her eyes. "Get the annulment, Ellie, even if I die tonight. Denounce me, make it official."

"That would make it as if we were never married?"

"Do it for Gareth's sake. I need to know that my disgrace won't hurt either of you, that you'll have an income and some standing left. Please. And... tell him I'm sorry. I didn't want any of this, for you or for him."

The tears in Ellie's eyes began to spell and Loghain felt some in his throat, too. Blindly she reached out for his shoulders. He turned quickly, drawing her close, and his breath seized as a shock of gratitude hit him. Resting his chin on her head, Loghain rocked her, closed his eyes and tried to banish everything else but this sensation. To his relief, Ellie made no move to withdraw. Eventually he rested back, her head lying warm and heavy against his chest.
Some hours later, Fergus found them propped in the corner. They both had slept. It was late, close to midnight, Loghain thought.

"Sorry," Fergus mumbled. "Everything's ready."

Ellie stood when Loghain did. "I'm coming with you."

Her brother winced and shook his head. "I'm sorry, Ellie. That's not possible."

As Loghain moved away, Ellie reached out to grab his sleeve. "No." Her voice was edged with panic.

He turned back, regarding her with a surge of tenderness. Whatever happened next, she had just given him a great gift. Loghain removed the hand from his sleeve, clasped it and brought it to his lips. Ellie stepped to him and he lowered to meet her, kissing her. When he released her, calm had settled in him. For the first time, Loghain began to think that he might survive this, whatever it was that Wardens did to people.

Anora was waiting at the door of the chamber where the ritual would take place. She stood taut, her fingers working nervously. "Father. I..."

The practiced speech didn't come out. Loghain knew she was thinking of what had happened during the Landsmeet, of her denunciations and the scheming around him., and agonizing over it. Eventually she would remember that she had done exactly as he had raised her to do. Laying a hand on her arm, he said quietly, "Anora. Be the queen you were meant to be. Nothing would please me more."

She blinked, nodded, and after a moment stepped aside to let them pass. Inside the chamber, the Orlesian was waiting, a large chalice in his hand. Fergus followed Loghain in and the door swung heavily behind them.

***

The darkness was burning. He choked on acid fumes. They were in his throat, his eyes. The agony was unbearable, but he clawed himself up. There was danger here, enemies all around, he could hear them whispering, hissing, soft screeches. The darkness was complete. Then he began to see them, crawling over each other like a mass of insects, all trying to move forward. Loghain knew where they were going, because he had a sudden powerful urge to go there, too. He had to see. He groaned, straining to move.

Voices came closer, not the whispering, but real voices. One of them familiar. "He'll make it. He's going to make it." That was Fergus, Loghain recognized dimly. His wife's brother. He sounded happy. There had been a ritual, some kind of test he had to pass. Loghain could feel the stone floor of the palace beneath him, the dull pain of a bruise where he had fallen.

Before he could fully come to, the darkness drew him back in. Then Loghain saw what he had been straining towards. A massive creature sat amongst the crawling figures. Its lizard neck arched, and two glittering eyes regarded him. He saw razor teeth, and it uttered what sounded like hissing laughter. Words formed in his mind. "A new plaything. Come and play, little one. Or simply wait. I am coming for you."

Repulsed, Loghain struggled to wake, but he was paralyzed. When great wings flapped and the creature lifted away, he felt both relief and a great longing ache. He tried to follow, pulled onward as though by an invisible drag.

When he woke some time later, he found that they had moved him. He was in a bed, no longer on the floor. A lamp burned. Loghain blinked at the light, pained by it. When he groaned, there was movement. Someone was sitting next to him on the bed. He felt fingers stroking his forehead, and heard Ellie's voice. "It's over. You did it, Loghain. Rest now."

It wasn't over. It was just beginning. Groaning again, Loghain hooked an arm around Ellie's hip and held on to her as though her warm weight could anchor him. The dreams came for him anyway. Darkness closed over, and the whispering grew louder.

Some hours passed and he stirred. The lamp was burning low, nearly out. Ellie lay sleeping in the bed beside him. Loghain's head pounded and there was an evil, burning foulness in his mouth and stomach, but he sensed that he might sleep now, really sleep instead of stumbling through waking nightmare. He hooked an arm across Ellie's waist, slid closer to her, and closed his eyes.

Loghain woke with the sun in his eyes, alone in the bed. He blinked at the window, laid a hand across his forehead, and tried to forget the sights and sounds of the night. They were still with him. The whispering was not as insistent, but it was still there. The realization that it might always be there, waking or sleeping, made him sick with dread. His stomach still burned from foulness, and also now from a voracious hunger.

At a sound, he looked up. Ellie came out of the study and stood by the bedside, smiling. "You're awake. How do you feel?"

"Don't ask," Loghain grumbled. He glanced around. "Water?"

"I'll get it." She disappeared into the other room and returned with a pitcher and glass. Loghain sat up and took the water. She asked, "You had bad dreams?"

"That term has new meaning." He drained the glass and reached for more.

Ellie gave him a nervous glance while she poured. "You spoke in your sleep. You talked about a dragon."

Loghain nodded. "I think it was the archdemon." He paused, then said, "You once told me 'dragons seem to follow you.' I'm afraid that's got new meaning, too."

She watched him, worried, but then a voice called from the outer rooms. It was Fergus. Ellie called back and Fergus entered, crossing his arms and smiling at Loghain. "It gets better. Sort of."

"How very reassuring." Loghain sat up carefully, laying a hand on his stomach. He glanced up at Fergus, realized that this young man had already undergone the same ritual, sometime between the massacre of his family and the ruin at Ostagar. The knowledge cast his wife's little brother in a new light. "So. I passed your test. What now?"

"Now we march. Riordan is going on ahead to Redcliffe. We need to follow as soon as we can."

"And I am to be under your command?"

Fergus stirred on his feet, glancing at Ellie before looking back. "I know it's strange. Listen, I'll need your help, if we're to have any chance at all. I'm glad to have you, but if your men hesitate to follow my orders..."

"Relax, Cousland. I am beaten. My men will follow you because I will do the same thing I always have: Fight beside them." That prospect cheered Loghain suddenly. There was surely one way to quiet the whispering, and that was to beat on something with a sword.

The Cousland Warden hesitated, appraising, and finally nodded. "Very well. Ellie...?"

"I'm coming with you. I've sent Roslyn back with messages to the Bannorn to muster at Redcliffe."

Loghain stood. "Fine. Good. Before I chase any dragons, I'm going to find breakfast. I'm so hungry I could eat a dragon, whole."

Fergus grinned. "Au feu? With hot sauce?"

"I'll follow your orders, Cousland, but spare me your attempts at wit."

"Enough talk of dragons, you two." Ellie pushed Fergus back out the door, then turned to look over her shoulder. "I need to go out and see my men are ready. I'll stop in the kitchens and order you a breakfast. Are you alright, Loghain?"

That was a complicated question. He was stripped and disgraced, recruit in a foreign order of dubious connections, filled with black poison in mind and body. Anora was to be married to a Theirin by-blow, another Cailan. Yet her throne was intact and did not need his patronage to secure it. Gareth was most likely alive, out of the way of both the Blight and his political troubles, at least for now. One way or another he was going to lose Elissa, but at least she was whole and had stood with him in the Landsmeet. The concern in her voice was sincere. Even with the dragon waiting ahead of him, Loghain saw that he was better than he had been in a long time.

"I am well, Ellie," he answered with a faint smile. "I will see you later."

Modifié par Addai67, 26 septembre 2011 - 03:05 .

[Addai]

Chapter 36

This is the final chapter of The Arrangement, with a short epilogue to follow. A few kudos are in order.

Any thanks must start with the Makers- the Dragon Age writers- in particular David Gaider and Mary Kirby, the talent behind Loghain Mac Tir. They did the hard work. I'm sorry for fondling your characters. Not too sorry, of course.  I owe additional debts of inspiration to George R. R. Martin and more recently to Cecelia Holland, in particular her novel Great Maria.

Without SurelyForth's prodding, this story would never have seen the light of day. After encouraging me to write it, she then proceeded to patiently preview each chapter and keep my spirits up. It's truly all her fault. Gareth owes Surely a debt, too, for giving him a friend in Kirkwall. Her character, Wilhelmina, is "the" Hawke in The Arrangement. In a universe where Wil Hawke is not fostering exiled Mac Tirs, she lives in the stories Maps and Legends and Life and How to Live It.

Thanks also are due to the regulars of the Loghain fan thread at BSN. Because of them, I had a PhD in Loghain before I wrote a single word. Thanks, guys, for embracing a "hater."

To my readers: Wow. You absolutely blew me away. I am amazed and gratified that anyone would read my drivel, let alone offer so many kind reviews and notes on BSN. If anyone ever asks me why I spent hours of my life writing a story with someone else's characters, I'll tell them that a big reason is the built-in community.

A little more than a year ago, I sent the first two chapters of this story to SurelyForth with comments amounting to "am I crazy?," "people will hate this," and "why do I love it so much?" I did not want to write a long fanfiction epic, but the story would not let me go. Following the madness has been quite an experience. Thank you for coming along for the ride.

Now, the archdemon awaits...

***

6 Bloomingtide, 9:31 Dragon Age. Moor Cleghan, off the West Road.

There were few dice games or drunken songs as might have otherwise cropped up in an army camp. They had only a few hours to rest before the army would march again, and there was little food. Nothing was to be had in Denerim at any price. They had marched too quickly to scour the countryside. The Wardens were counting on there being more food at the other end of the march, in Redcliffe.

Loghain made the rounds of his officers, who were all tired but in good spirits. Despite their misgivings about taking commands from a young Warden, they were glad to have Loghain with them and to be marching, not lingering around Denerim watching their places be usurped by Howe bootlickers. They didn't care that Loghain had no title. They had never cared about that.

There was more trouble on Ellie's side of the camp. Highever and Bannorn forces had joined them on the way west, and there was squabbling. As he passed by, Loghain heard men shouting and Ellie's voice among them, mediating. He had to smile a little. By now she must know that not even the Maker himself had patience enough to lead a Bannorn army.

Briefly he checked in on the royal tents. Anora had insisted on accompanying the army. Though Loghain was worried, it had not proven a bad idea. She wanted people to see her, to know that she was in charge. All along the march, crowds had come out to see the army pass by. They cheered lightly for the Wardens, far more heartily when they recognized the queen. Loghain would see she stayed in the middle column, well away from any fighting.

Anora was well attended and weary from riding, so Loghain left her and went out. Everyone was tired, and soon even the Bannorn side seemed to quiet down. He found a spot among the Gwaren troops and laid out his bedroll. A squire helped him out of his armor, taking it away to be cleaned. As Loghain was stretching out on his side, he heard a light step behind him and the clink of mail.

"Loghain."

He started, turning. "Ellie. Everything alright?"

In the darkness he couldn't see her face, only her outline. "I'm fine." She hesitated, then said, "I have a tent."

Loghain tensed as he caught the implication. "I'm fine here."

"It's not for you. I'm asking for me."

His brow shot up, but he made no reply. Rolling to his feet, Loghain looked around and brushed himself nervously, then turned to follow Ellie through the camp. His heart was pounding, though he managed to keep his hands from shaking as he helped her undo the straps on her mail. The camp was crowded, and Loghain could feel eyes on them. He ignored the looks.

Inside the small tent, there was hardly room for two. Loghain sat beside Ellie and she put her arms on his shoulders, gazing at him, so close their breath mingled. "Thank you," she said softly. "I'm scared, Loghain. I didn't think I would be, but I am. Fergus is so afraid. So are you, I think."

So that was the explanation. Even if Ellie wanted only his comfort, in the close quarters of the tent there was no way to hide from her that he was already aroused. Acutely aware of the light pressure of her hip against his groin, Loghain swallowed, grasping for a coherent word. To his relief, she said nothing more, only laid her mouth against his, her tongue slipping out a moment later to touch his lips. He groaned and shifted, opening to the kiss. She took charge and he allowed it gladly, too gone with lust to wonder at this turn.

There was something about the darkspawn blood in them. Fergus had mentioned it, blushing like a maid as he explained that the taint accelerated hunger and other physical appetites. It had also been months since Loghain had been with his wife. Whatever the reason, he was straight and hard as an unseasoned youth. Ellie apparently noticed, as well. She slid herself onto him, and gave a yelp of surprise when he grasped her hips to settle more deeply. Afterward he let her move on him as she would, his arm clenched around her waist to help her leverage. The others outside the tent would hear, he knew, but didn't care.

It was over too soon, and even as she shifted to let him slide out, he wanted to do it again. Instead he held her, face laid against her neck and still breathing hard. Ellie stayed close, limbs snaked around him. Loghain stroked her back with one hand, resisting the exhaustion that dragged on him. She turned her face and kissed languidly at his cheek and mouth. Finally she rested her forehead against his cheek and murmured, "I have missed you."

He sucked in a breath. Words were inadequate, so he said nothing. They only had a few hours, and what lay at the end of the march in Redcliffe was uncertain. She needed sleep, they both did, but for once he could not even say the practical thing.

Some time later Ellie stirred and lifted her head. "I spoke with the Grand Cleric. She said you sent her to me."
Loghain felt his throat clench. He had indeed done so, back in Denerim, knowing Ellie would hesitate to seek an annulment on her own accord. It had not been easy. "This is the right thing, Ellie. You know it."

"You understand nothing." Her tone was still languid with tiredness, but reproachful. "All these years you have been with me, made a child with me, and you still don't know me at all."

"I know you too well," he said. Their embrace loosened, and he regarded her across the small space. "You're not going to do it."

"No, I'm not. You want an out, Loghain, and I'm not giving it to you."

"Maker's breath, stubborn as ever." He smiled a little as he said it, touching her face and then resting his hand on her back once more. In spite of his better inclinations, he was glad. None of it was likely to matter anyway. After seeing the darkspawn minions and the archdemon in his dreams, Loghain finally understood the magnitude of what they faced. There was little chance any of them would survive. He had had to plan as if they would, but did not believe it. She might, at any rate. In his dreams now, he saw what his own end would be. If he was afraid, it was for her.

As if reading his thoughts, Ellie said, "I do not give you leave to die for us. I know that's what you want to do now, after the Landsmeet."

"You think the darkspawn will take your opinion into account?"

"I'm not talking about them. I'm talking about you. We need you. Not as a martyr, but as a father, as my husband. I want you back."

The pain of these words was unexpected, and Loghain wished she hadn't said it. "You shouldn't be thinking about this, Ellie," he said, suddenly tired. "It will only make tomorrow more difficult. You admitted that you're frightened. If you cling to me, you won't be able to lead your men."

"Don't throw that back at me, you bastard," she answered, pushing angrily at his chest. "I know what I have to do tomorrow. I beat you, or have you forgotten?"

At another time he might have been angry, but instead he laughed. It must be the sex, the smell of her skin. In the background of his mind were the whispers of the archdemon. He was drunk on it all, too tired and too close to the frail edge between life and death to be speculative. Somehow, beneath his conscious mind, the idea that Ellie had been his adversary delighted him. "So you did," Loghain replied, smiling, his c*ck stirring against her leg.

"And maybe I need to remember what I'm fighting for," she said, still arguing.

Loghain shifted under her, wedged a knee between Ellie's legs to open them. She was slick with his fluid and her own. He rolled her to her back, resisting the urge to enter her immediately. Instead he lifted her tunic up with one hand, the other pressing her shoulder back against the bedroll. Hungrily he followed the contours of her belly and then her breasts with his fingers, wishing for a lamp so that he could see her. Under his touch, Ellie relaxed, and he firmed the grasp on one breast, teasing at its point. He bent, nipped at it with his tongue. He would be patient now. This had always been better when he could manage it, this waiting. Only when Ellie was already poised at a brink did he slip his hand between her thighs, circling and stroking her gently until she came with a strained cry. The sound was so arresting that he was tempted to grasp himself and finish it.

Rejecting that notion, Loghain bent down, pressed a kiss to her mouth and slid into her. Even then he checked himself, the satisfaction of holding Ellie beneath him and jabbing into her too good to end quickly. Just for a few moments to be nothing but a man with a woman, not a teyrn, with no duty or argument coming between them, that was a relief he had not thought to have again. Sometimes Ellie had lain quietly when he took her like this, but more often she grappled back, clutching him, and that made it infinitely better. So she did now, urging him on.

Afterward they lay side by side, his arm looped over her shoulder. She was slumped against him, relaxed, the built-up distance between them gone. Loghain kissed at her ear and she mumbled, already sleeping. He reached across to loosen a vent flap and let some air into the tent, then did not fight his own tiredness. It seemed that he had only just closed his eyes when a squire came scratching on the front of the tent, calling for them to wake.

Ellie was quiet as he helped affix her armor, giving him knowing glances. Both of them were shy, remembering their night and feeling hurried into the bleakness of the day before them. There were shouts and grumbling as the men got each other awake and stumbled around trying to remember where the privies were.

"This is fine mail," Loghain said, choosing a neutral topic. "Red steel, isn't it? Not as good as your silverite." That was in Gwaren somewhere, he suspected. Or in Antiva by now, sold off by looters.

"This will do." Her face was hard again, and she glanced across his shoulder, already thinking of all that had to be done.

He caught her chin in one hand, and bent to kiss her. "Thank you," he said as he released her, meaning to thank her for all that she had said and done that night.

"I told you," she answered with a hint of smile, "that it was for me, not for you."

"All the same." He hesitated, then rested his hands on her shoulders. "I don't think it matters, but for what it's worth, I don't want to die. I want to come back to you, since you are so foolish as to have me."

Ellie smiled and caught a breath, relieved. "Thank you, Loghain. It matters to me."

Her words cut off as a squire approached and stopped nearby, holding Loghain's armor. Loghain glanced at him, then back at Ellie. He kissed her quickly and said, "I'm glad." They clasped hands and then he let her go.

***

Ellie was about to pass by the little chapel and stopped, looking in. A few arlsguard were there, huddled in private prayers. Candles flickered in the dim hall. A maid was fiddling with the brazier. The Revered Mother had been killed in the attack on Redcliffe Castle, the details of which Lieutenant Riven refused to discuss with anyone but Loghain. Thinking about the deaths here, Ellie had a sudden, pained memory of Mother Mallol. It had been long since she had last attended a Chant. The last time had been before the massacre at Highever. It seemed hypocritical to pray now, when all she wanted to do was beg.

They had had a long day's marching down the West Road, and as they neared Redcliffe late that night, scouts went out regularly but returned with the peculiar news that no darkspawn had been seen at all. Only when they got close to the village did the Warden army hear otherwise. There had been battle in the village and around the castle, but Riven's forces had easily prevailed. The bulk of the force was camped at the muster grounds near Rainesfaire, while Anora, Ellie, Loghain and the rest of the Warden party had come up to the castle.

Here they heard the news that Riordan believed the attack on Redcliffe only a feint for a much larger attack, probably on Denerim. Ellie had expected Loghain to grumble about this terrible misjudgment, but he did not. The Joining had made him milder on such matters. The creatures used the Deep Roads, he said, and there were so many of them that they could afford such feints. There was nothing to do but prepare to march back in as much haste as the royal army had come. The men needed rest, however, and the quartermasters needed time to get food. Orzammar's forces had begun arriving but after their long march they also needed time to form up. The officers would spend the night in the castle and hope to march at first light.

A woman's voice spoke at Ellie's elbow as she lingered. "Will you pray with me, Teyrna?"

Ellie turned, startled. She had met Isolde a few times in Denerim and had always found her haughty and distant. Eleanor Cousland had said that these were walls against the mistrust of the other nobles for the Orlesian woman. Isolde did not look haughty now. Her face was lined and her eyes bruised looking and haunted.

"Arlessa. I'm not sure..." Ellie began. Upstairs, Isolde's husband lay in a coma and would likely die, a result of Loghain's actions. That Isolde spoke to her with anything but hatred put Ellie on guard.

"Please. Let us pray for our sons, yours and mine."

Not knowing how to refuse, Ellie nodded once and followed Isolde into the chapel. Before the brazier the arlessa knelt down on one knee and Ellie followed, her armor clanking lightly. It was awkward and painful to kneel on bracers, but she took this as a penance, and clasped her hands together. Isolde began to pray out loud, following the ritual chant. At first she began in the common tongue but as her prayers grew more fervent and personal, she slipped into Orlesian. Ellie listened silently, eyes closed. Her mind turned to the time she had visited the Great Cathedral in Val Royeux. She had missed her son so much then that in an off-guard moment she would start, wondering where he was. Ellie no longer expected to see her son around the corner. She wondered if she would ever see him again.

"Gareth," she whispered, and when Isolde paused in her prayers, Ellie realized that she had said the name aloud. Awkwardly she continued on, "Holy Maker, keep my son. Guard all the children, the helpless ones. When this is over, let them remember how to laugh again and not be afraid. Keep Connor Guerrin at your side and smile on him. Comfort his mother. Help us fight for all their sakes." It was not much of a prayer, and her voice was shaking. She could think of nothing else, so Ellie stopped, feeling self-conscious, and rose to her feet.

Isolde remained on her knee, but glanced up at Ellie and gave her a sad smile. "Thank you." As Ellie left she heard the arlessa resume her whispered prayers.

Back in her chamber, Fergus was waiting for her. He sat in a chair, elbows on his knees, head hanging. "Brother," Ellie said as she entered, "You look more dismal than I feel. Don't be so hard on yourself. Riordan thought the attack would fall on Redcliffe, too."

He looked up. "It's not that."

Ellie lifted a brow. "Alright then. While you mope, help me out of this armor."

Fergus rose from his chair and complied. After a moment's silence he said, "You know how even when there's death all around you, coming at you so fast you can't do anything but just lash back at it, how even then you need to feel that there's a limit to it, that there's a line you wouldn't cross? No matter what it cost you or... or other people?"

"Fergus, you can start making sense any time now," Ellie said, eyeing him. He only shook his head, frustrated. Whatever this was, it was obviously bothering him a great deal. She sobered, and said quietly, "I don't think that I've told you yet, brother, how proud I am of you for all that you've done. Mother and Father would be proud, too."

His mouth worked briefly. They lifted Ellie's mail shirt over her head, and when she had settled her tunic, saw that Fergus was staring at her as though trying to size something up. "I saw you and Loghain walking together last night." He waited for her nod before continuing. "When this is all over, do you think that he and you will want to... if you can, I mean. Do you still love him, in that way?"

Despite the gibberish, Ellie understood the question. "I know that it may be hard for others to understand, after everything. I don't know what will be possible, but I do hope that we can have something. I do love him in that way." It felt good to say it. Loghain was too practical, and shouldered too much blame to allow himself to picture a future. Someone had to be the hopeful one.

Fergus was still watching her, considering. He did not look relieved, but eventually nodded, his voice grave. "I see. Thank you. I didn't mean to pry."

Ellie did not understand why he was asking or why it seemed so important, but she let it go. Loghain came in while they were finishing with her leg pieces. He and Fergus exchanged a pointed look, and when Ellie noticed, she glanced between the two men with a growing unease. While they discussed whether to leave men behind in Redcliffe, she went in to the washroom to clean herself and dress for bed. Fergus was gone when she came out, and Loghain was sitting in much the same she had found her brother, with his head hanging.

"What is going on?"

"Nothing." Loghain lifted his head and smiled at her. Glancing at the bed, he shifted, looking sheepish. "May I sleep here tonight?"

"Of course."

He rose and went to take his turn in the washroom. While he was occupied there, Ellie brought her pack to the bed and began pawing through its contents, organizing them. Her hand fell on a black vial Neria had given her. It held an elixir meant to give protection against the darkspawn taint. The Warden party had been using up their small store already. It made Ellie guilty to think of swallowing the precious stuff, knowing that in any fight with the darkspawn, some who survived the battle would die later of Blight disease.

Loghain came out and, tossing his clothes over a chair, and slid in behind her on the bed. Running a finger along her neck, he said, "I could get used to this shorter hair."

Ellie shivered at the touch, but she was not going to let him off so easily. "Tell me what is going on," she insisted. "Why you and Fergus look so glum."

"You don't need to know."

"Stop that, Loghain." Half-turning so that she could look at him, Ellie said angrily, "Stop trying to shield me. If we've learned anything from these past months, it's that we can't hide things from one another."

Loghain frowned, and the hand stopped its motion, resting on the small of her back. "As you wish." He told her, then, about another Warden secret, about what was required to see the archdemon destroyed for good. Ellie remained still, listening. Of the three in all Ferelden who could do this thing, one was her husband and the other was her brother, the only remaining family she had. It was one thing to think you might die in battle; quite another to know that you could not win unless someone you loved died for you. Ellie wondered if this was what a death sentence felt like, or if it was worse.

"Find more Wardens," she said, mind moving frantically. "Conscript them if you have to."

Loghain shook his head. "Whatever it was they gave me to make me a Warden, there is not enough of it. I got the last."

"What about the Orlesians?"

"It is doubtful they will make it in time." He stroked her back, and Ellie marveled at how calm he was. His expression was sad, resigned, but seemed more taken with looking at her than with what he had just told her. "Don't fret, Ellie," he said, entreating. "One life, that is not too much to trade for destroying this thing. Let's not talk about it anymore. Here, let me see you."

He tugged at her nightdress, and Ellie gave in, though her mind still reeled. His hands grasping her shoulders, Loghain laid her back and rested on one elbow at her side. He swept a hand up her stomach, eyes following the motion and then holding hers as he leaned in to kiss her. After some time of this he stopped and pressed on her side, turning her over to her stomach. One hand moved down and rested at the curve of her buttocks. Ellie heard his breathing grow more ragged.

She murmured in anticipation, and Loghain lowered his mouth to tease slowly along her spine. When he reached its sensitive base, his hands moved in behind her and opened her. The nagging fears receded as arousal took them over. By the time she rose to her knees, Ellie held the dragon at bay in a distant corner of her mind, the fear only giving an edge of desperation to it all. They slept a little, then woke and had each other again, then slept some more. With dawn gloom filtering in the window, Ellie lay staring at it, and the fear came back in force. She was sore and spent, but when Loghain stirred she held him there, not letting him leave.

"Come on," he said at last, nuzzling at her ear and then rolling away, pulling her hand after him. "Let's get it over with."

With that phrase echoing in mind, Ellie took to the long trudging with a heartsick determination to get past whatever waited for them. When at last they crested a rise in the North Road and saw Denerim burning, a choking anger overtook her fear. The whole army felt it. Only moments before they had been weary and bleak-faced, but now the soldiers roared and shook their weapons in the air. For a time Ellie and the other officers were occupied with holding them back long enough to organize.

They held the majority in reserve and took a forward force to clear the field ahead and break through the west gates. Most of the darkspawn were already inside the city. When the first forces had secured the gate, they held there to wait for the rest of the army to come up.

While she waited, Ellie's eyes followed the black shape that careened and whirled over the castle mount. The dragon. Across lines of soldiers, she saw Fergus looking at it, too. Loghain was not. He was huddled with his men over a map of Denerim, pointing and arguing. Turning her eyes back, Ellie watched the archdemon wheel and float in a long dive. It disappeared among the buildings and then soared up again, dark spots falling from its claws back to earth as it rose into the air. Men, Ellie realized. It was tossing men around like chaff. There were shouts of dismay around her, from the other soldiers who had seen. That sound brought Ellie out of her stupor. Loghain was right not to look. The men should not see her afraid. She steeled herself and turned back to get her orders.

***

Ellie woke, gasping. My sword. Holy Maker, where is my sword? It was nowhere to be seen, but she spotted a discarded blade a short distance away. Crawling towards it across the blood-spattered stones, breath coming in ragged gasps, Ellie swiveled her head to watch for an enemy approach. Not long before the rooftop of Fort Drakon had been crawling with darkspawn, but now she saw only bodies. Sword again in hand, Ellie flipped over and wiped at the muck on her face, trying to figure out what was happening. They had been fighting the archdemon, trying desperately to score the thick hide while fighting off his enraged minions at the same time. Something must have knocked her back, and impossibly far. It was too quiet. There was crying, men groaning out, but the dragon's roar had stilled. Maybe it was already dead.

Loghain. Fergus. If the dragon was dead, then so would one of them be. They had seen Riordan fall from the archdemon's back before they even got to the tower.

Ellie fought to her feet and stumbled forward, almost tripping over a wounded darkspawn. It was screeching, a horrible, pitiful sound. With a shout, Ellie drove her sword down through its open maw, silencing it. She moved on. The other darkspawn she saw weren't fighting anymore, only shrieking and running in circles. With a frenzied satisfaction Ellie cut down a few more, making her way up the slope of the roof's floor toward where they had been fighting the dragon.

She saw its hulk lying still. Soldiers, some of them wounded, moved past her toward the stair. "The Wardens!  Where are the Grey Wardens?" she shouted. At first none answered, but finally one of the soldiers pointed.

Ellie ran in that direction and saw Fergus bent over, struggling to his feet with the help of a militia man. "Oh thank Andraste," Ellie gasped as she reached him. "Where is Loghain?"

Fergus shrugged and straightened, obviously pained with wounds but standing of his own accord. Together they looked, turning over bodies. At last they found him, lying tossed against the platform wall like a doll. With a shout Ellie ran, knelt to grasp at her husband's shoulders and rolled him to his back. Pulling off her gloves, she brushed at his face, wiping the blood and black darkspawn filth from his eyes.

"Loghain," she said, voice hoarse with fear. "Loghain. My love, wake up." She shook him, willing him to open his eyes.

Fergus knelt beside her, then slowly reached a hand past Ellie's shoulder and put his fingertips to Loghain's throat. A look crossed her brother's face that Ellie could not read and feared to interpret. It might have been amazement.

***

4 Kingsway, 9:31 Dragon Age. Highever.

Gareth ran on ahead, up the slope toward the older part of the castle. It was his first time in the vast keep since he was a baby, and just as Ellie and Fergus had done when they were little, he found no end of delight in exploring its hidden corners.

"Don't go too far," Ellie called uselessly.

She caught up to him as he was pushing on the iron grate of the old dovecote. "What is it, mamma?"

"It's where they used to keep the carrier birds before we had a post. And the dinner birds, too, I suppose." Ellie stepped behind him and brought out her castle key, unlocking the grate and pushing on it. It swung back with a rusty groan. Gareth ran in, and Ellie bent to follow him. Autumn sun streamed through the ruined roof and lit the dust kicked up by their footsteps. "Your uncle Fergus and I used to climb here," she said, squinting up to the ceiling.

Gareth had already spied the convenient chinks in the round wall, and began spidering his way up the side. Ellie sat on an overturned barrow and watched him, remembering the day that she and Fergus had almost fallen here. It had been an instructive event for a brash, overconfident young girl. Because of her carelessness, Fergus might have been hurt badly. In the end, she had caught him and they climbed down together, still shaking, each later trying to convince the other they hadn't really been scared. Sometimes, even when you deserved it, the worst didn't happen.

"Come down now, Gareth."

Eventually he obeyed her. Outside, they made their way through the deserted courtyard and climbed up the slope of a collapsed battlement. It had long since been overgrown with a thick carpet of moss, as if the castle would here submit to becoming a hillside. Only at the very top was the worked stone visible, the jutting remnants of a tower. It was on the seaward side of the castle and far below they could see the village, beyond it the harbor with its crowded sails. A cutter was coming in from the Waking Sea.

Gareth ran on a bit, exploring, and finally came back to against her shoulder, watching the ship. "Where's it coming from, mamma?" he asked, pointing, then turned serious eyes on her. "From Kirkwall?"

Ellie bit her lip at that name. "Oh, I don't think so. It looks like it's coming in from the east, wouldn't you say?"

"Mm."

She glanced surreptitiously at the boy. His eyes were hers, but with his brow knit and in profile, Gareth was much his father. He had been home only one week and was still more withdrawn than he had been even before the war. It was as if he did not trust that what he saw around him would last. He would not talk about Anya at all.

"Gareth. I want to say something to you," Ellie said quietly. He turned toward her, and she ignored the suspicious look, pressing on. "You know I would never have sent you away except to save your life, don't you? I didn't want to leave you. That was the hardest thing I ever did." Her voice caught and, unwillingly, her eyes filled.

Her son mumbled something and straightened, his face drooping. He clearly wanted to be elsewhere. Quickly Ellie said, "I'm not crying because I'm sad, Gareth. I'm happy. I'm just very happy to have you here with me, that's all."

That was a little safer. Gareth nodded, even allowed a brief smile, and looked up shyly at her. "Your hair is short now," he said, as though noticing it for the first time. "Like Wil's."

Wil was Wilhelmina, Anya's kinswoman, with whom they had shared a hovel in Kirkwall. That Gareth would talk about the place was an opening. Cautiously Ellie took it, asking, "Were they good to you? Did you like her?"

Gareth nodded and shifted his gaze back to the ships. She thought that might be close of the subject, but a moment later he brightened and volunteered, "Wil's got a mabari. Like Cutha, only not as old. And she taught me how to use a sword. I can't hold a real one for too long. Not yet."

"That was very nice of her." Despite herself, Ellie felt a pang of jealousy, and a helpless gratitude. She owed this family everything, strangers who had no reason at all to risk themselves for her little boy. There was no way to repay a debt like this. She felt like crying again, and sniffed, trying to stem it.

A moment later she felt Gareth's finger, grubby and roughened from hard play, brush over her cheek. He was tracing the jagged scar there, his face thoughtful. Ellie had gotten it from the rim of her own helmet mask, smashed into her face by a Bannorn mace. Though the helmet had saved her, she might still have died but for the mages. She held herself still, then smiled at Gareth when his hand fell away. He stood next to her a few minutes more, rocking with nervous boy energy, and finally whirled away and ran up the hillside, shouting as if a berserker army were coming over the battlements. It took some effort to get him back to the family rooms for dinner.

That night, Loghain and Fergus returned to Highever, a week earlier than Ellie had expected them. After the Battle of Denerim, the remnants of the darkspawn horde had fled in every direction, some of them east toward Amaranthine, some west toward Orlais. The Wardens gave chase until they were satisfied the last bands had gone into the Deep Roads. In the meantime Ellie had boarded the first ship she could find going to Kirkwall.

Gareth was already asleep when the men came in, but Ellie took Loghain to look in on him. The boy woke while they stood in his doorway. "Mamma?" he asked, sitting up. His voice was fearful. Nighttime visitors had rarely meant anything good in his experience.

Loghain went forward and sat down on the edge of the bed. When Gareth realized who the figure was, he made a small noise of astonishment and launched into Loghain's arms. A few moments later Ellie was shocked to hear the boy begin to cry. He had not shed a single tear since she saw him on the pier at Kirkwall. Now, the more tightly his father held him, the more fiercely Gareth cried. Still half-asleep and caught off guard, his defenses had fallen. It was right, Ellie knew, but it cut her to the heart to hear this proof of the anguish and lostness of her son's last year. Finally Loghain slipped from Gareth's arms and held the boy's face, kissing the tears from his cheeks, his own eyes streaming.

"It thought you'd die," Gareth said, his voice hitching between sobs. "I thought you'd die."

Loghain shook his head, his own voice strained. "No. No, I didn't die, lieutenant." He pressed an earnest kiss to Gareth's forehead, then held him against his chest until the boy's crying eased.

Gareth refused to go back to bed, so Loghain lifted him up and carried him out to the parlor. Ellie sat with them, listening to Gareth's plapper. When their son had finally fallen asleep against Loghain's side, they talked a while about the darkspawn and the news from Highever.

"Where is Anya?" Loghain asked, his hand ruffling slowly over his sleeping son's hair.

Ellie scowled, so enraged that it took he a moment to answer. When she did, she spat out the words. "The templars took her, Maker damn them all. She was alone at home with Gareth when they came. They took him, too, in case he was a mage, but let him go a few days later. Alun says it's something about Anya's family. The authorities wanted a lever on this woman Hawke."

Loghain looked unexpectedly sorrowful. He glanced down at Gareth, his jaw set. "I'll ask Anora to look into it."

"I have to get her out, Loghain," Ellie said, keeping her voice down so as not to wake the child. "I fought with them as much as I dared, but I was afraid to do more with Gareth still in Kirkwall. That place... even with the Blight, Ferelden is a haven compared to that place."

"Anora will see to it. Come. Let's get him back to bed."

Loghain lifted Gareth and carried him back to his room. Before they got to the hallway again, Loghain caught Ellie and drew her to him, kissing her. Eventually she sank against the wall, taking him with her. Against her ear he said, "I have to go to Montsimmard."

She tensed. It was part of Anora's deal with Redcliffe and the banns, but Ellie had guessed Loghain would be sent somewhere in the Free Marches. Pulling back to look at him, she asked, "Orlais? Is that someone's idea of a joke?"

He let out a wry laugh. "My daughter's, evidently. Anora also asked that you come down for the wedding and that bastard's coronation. She wants to speak with you. I'll leave from there, I imagine."

Ellie's heart sank. The wedding was only a few weeks away. She had known that it could not last, but knowing did not make it easier. Still, they had been spared the worst. It was something. Reaching up, Ellie drew Loghain's mouth down to hers again. There was little time, and none to waste.

Modifié par Addai67, 05 octobre 2011 - 12:09 .

[Costin_Razvan]

Ah well I might have hoped for a vastly different ending but it is suitable enough.

Good read. If you wanted to capture Loghain's tradgedy you did so well...I dislike it since I believe in a happy ending, though of course my interpretation of that is different.

Oh and thanks for taking the time to recognize us Loghain thread fans.

Modifié par Costin_Razvan, 04 octobre 2011 - 04:57 .

[Addai]

Epilogue

Many thanks to Clariana for allowing me once again to borrow her character Chantal. It will be well worth your time to go read Clariana's newly finished story, The Dark Ritual, and her other fine work. –A.

***

10 Harvestmere, 9:32 Dragon Age. Imperial Highway, the Orlesian Heartlands.

Chantal swiveled around to look at the riders behind the carriage. Ellie glanced over at the petite blonde woman, then turned to follow her gaze. The carriage was surrounded by a small entourage of Fereldan bodyguards and a larger Orlesian force. Gareth was among them, riding a horse too big for him, having flatly refused to ride with the women in the carriage. Chantal waved at the boy, then turned to look at Josath ap Feil, trying to get his attention. These two had had a small conversation before the party started out, consisting of the princess talking and Jo-jo staring. Now, as he rode, the Fereldan man's eyes remained trained ahead and his expression serious, but his cheeks reddened visibly. That was enough for Chantal.

She turned back, laughing. "I do love Fereldans. When we heard that your queen was sending an ambassador to us, we were so delighted that it should be you, Teyrna Elissa. Grandmère most of all."

"The Empress is very kind." Ellie doubted very much that the Orlesian court was happy to have her in its midst. They had no doubt hoped to receive someone more pliable. Then again, Orlesians loved a challenge. Chantal had said something about getting out to see the countryside and giving their new ambassador an escort for the trip, but Ellie suspected that the empress also wanted someone to keep an eye on her and on Loghain. She guessed that the Orlesians saw both promise and risk in having such prominent Fereldans among them.

"It is an advantage for your son, too, no?" Chantal asked. "He will receive the finest education."

"Yet grow up hardly seeing the teyrnir he's meant to rule someday.  But yes, I expect he'll end up quite the unusual young man."

"This would be true in any case," Chantal replied wisely. It was certainly true. Even after only a few weeks in Val Royeux, Gareth Mac Tir, son of the Hero of River Dane, was quickly learning the Orlesian language. He was quiet, but when in the right mood spoke with worldly authority about his travels in the Free Marches and Ferelden to courtier and servant alike.

The princess' tone turned eager. "Tell me about this new king of yours, Teyrna Elissa. A commoner and completely unknown, can that be true? They say he is handsome."

"I will not argue with that," Ellie said, smiling. She remained silent a while, thinking over how to answer. Most of her impressions of Maric's son were made from afar, watching him first at the Landsmeet and with Fergus, then at the wedding and coronation. She did have a brief audience with him before leaving Denerim. Alistair had been tense, barely concealing his bitterness toward her. He still resented Loghain's survival, all the more because the smallfolk did not. A Mac Tir would also continue to hold a teyrnir. At the celebration of the Blight's defeat, the new king had grandly offered the Hero of Ferelden a boon, and regretted it when Fergus requested that Gwaren remain Gareth's birthright.

Nevertheless Alistair had grudgingly admitted to Ellie that Fergus and Loghain saved his life during the siege of Denerim. Fighting against impossible odds after the surprise attack on the capital, the new king and his honor guard had been forced to hole up in a room in Fort Drakon until the Wardens rescued them. Alistair had then joined the fighting in the palace district and acquitted himself well, rallying the defenders.

"He is a warrior above all, our king," Ellie replied finally. "I believe he would have liked to remain one rather than rule a country. That is a something my husband can understand. Such men, they are always soldiers at heart."

"And you are, as well, or not? I still remember your performance at our tournament."

Smiling faintly, Ellie shook her head. "No. First a mother, I think. I would not have expected that in my youth, but Gareth changed my mind."

"And your husband, he is content to be a simple Grey Warden, after holding such power in Ferelden?"

"He is content to be alive. I would say that Loghain finds the Warden life agreeable enough. He likes training the young recruits. That is my impression from his letters, at any rate. I have not seen my husband in nearly a year."

"I am eager to meet him, the great man himself." Her enthusiasm seemed sincere. The Orlesians also loved contradictions, and they could romanticize anything. Naturally, there was a limit.

"Not all of your countrymen agree," Ellie replied, giving the princess a pointed glance. "Thank you for your information about the plot on his life."

Chantal frowned and made a soft clucking noise. "These ignorant brutes. These…" She shook her head and muttered an Orlesian curse that Ellie did not understand. "They have no sense of the future, of what can be. Of what must be."

"We have that sort, as well."

"A pity," Chantal said, sighing. She reached for her flask. "Shall we have some wine?"

The party arrived in Montsimmard toward evening. The princess and her guards turned off toward the country estate of some noble who would house them, and Ellie rode with Gareth and the others on toward the Warden keep. Loghain was not there but would return soon, they were told. Gareth begged to watch the swordplay going on in the practice pit. Ellie left him under the watch of their guard and went out to stretch her legs.

Outside the walls of the keep, the road snaked on a down slope toward Lake Celestine. The waters of the lake were grey, a bank of dark cloud hiding any sunset. A few drops of rain slashed Ellie's face. She found a disused gazebo, weeds grown in around the steps, and took a seat on a stone bench facing out over the lake. For a time she watched the clouds roiling, then reached into her dress pocket and took out Loghain's last letter. There was barely enough light to read it, but she had all but memorized its words anyway.

Elissa,
Shall I start every letter with an apology for not writing more often? Let us call that a given and be done. All is well here, as well as can be. I'll say this for the place, we do get decent recruits. That is likely due to the fact that the Orlesians still do not accept commoners as chevaliers, with few exceptions. I am happy to profit from their stupidity.

I believe you that you could not find a more suitable tutor for Gareth in Highever than this Chantry brother, but the boy learned more useful skills in Kirkwall than are to be had from such a creature. At least Gareth could win some coin with his new mastery of Wicked Grace. I am only a fair hand at the game myself, but the lad will still never beat me in chess, not if there is any justice.

As to your plan to spend winters in Montsimmard. It is not a fitting place, Ellie, not for you or the boy. This is a soldier's den and despite its Orlesian airs, a mean one. I can feel your scowl from here. You are a warrior and used to such places. I also admit that your company would be very welcome. The winters are not as hard here as in Ferelden, but the bed is still cold. Nevertheless you would be more comfortable if you stayed in Val Royeux, and it would be better for Gareth's lessons. Think on it. I will not bother to insist. I am well aware, after many reminders, that I am not allowed to forbid you anything.

L.M.T.


Ellie had begun folding the letter to put it back again when she heard a footfall on the path behind her. She turned to see who approached, then stood, smiling.

***

* After defeating the Blight and being hailed as the Hero of Ferelden, Fergus Cousland left the Grey Wardens to assume leadership of his family's teyrnir at Highever. Letters from Weisshaupt inquiring about the unexplained survival of both Fereldan Wardens were returned unanswered.

* Six months after the Blight ended, Warden Commander Neria Surana led a defense at Amaranthine arling against remnants of the darkspawn horde. Though the darkspawn were once again defeated, the ancient port town burned to the ground in the fighting. Many blamed the mage Warden and whispered that it had all been a cover-up for terrible blood magic rituals. The incident and rumors drew templar attention to Vigil's Keep. Neria disappeared shortly thereafter.

* Cormac ap Feil took a mortal wound in the Battle of Denerim. His son Dunnet assumed his title at what was left of the shattered Stedburg. The younger ap Feil would remain a thorn in the crown's side. He did allow a portion of his lands which had once belonged to his mother's family to be portioned off so that it could be re-chartered, with his sister Roslyn as bann.

* Requests from Queen Anora for Anya Amell's release from templar custody in Kirkwall went unheeded. At Empress Celene's intercession, the Divine at Val Royeux agreed to look into the matter, but her many promises bore no fruit. At last Her Holiness agreed to provide Elissa with a written release order in exchange for returning with information on conditions in the troubled city. Ellie made the journey to Kirkwall, but when she arrived was told that Anya had died in the Gallows a few days earlier, under circumstances no one would explain.

* Alun Marwell had remained in Kirkwall, taking work with various mercenary companies, during Anya's imprisonment at the Gallows. After her death, he returned to Denerim and retired from military life. Queen Anora granted him a pension for his many years of service in the Fereldan royal guard.

* Three years after the end of the Blight, Regan Mac Tir was born in Val Royeux. She was eight years old when her father made his last journey into the Deep Roads.

Modifié par Addai67, 04 octobre 2011 - 06:37 .

[Addai]

Costin_Razvan wrote...

Ah well I might have hoped for a vastly different ending but it is suitable enough.

Good read. If you wanted to capture Loghain's tradgedy you did so well...I dislike it since I believe in a happy ending, though of course my interpretation of that is different.

Oh and thanks for taking the time to recognize us Loghain thread fans.

Thanks Costin.  I'm glad you took the time to read along and finish it even though it didn't end up being your cup of tea exactly.

I don't see the end as a tragedy myself- bittersweet, certainly.

Oh and of course I acknowledged the fan thread.    Having hashed and re-hashed the story from Loghain's perspective was very helpful, especially for things like Ostagar.

Modifié par Addai67, 04 octobre 2011 - 10:54 .

[The-Rogue-Princess]

Once again, excellent work, it has been an honor to read the Arrangement, thank you so much for all the time you've put into this. You've made a Loghhain lover out of me!

[Bleachrude]

Nice story...but I'm not sure how this ISN'T a happy ending for Loghain and Ellie.

Indeed, exactly what did Loghain lose?

[Addai]

I think Costin means that Loghain lost politically and gave up too much to the banns, but he can speak for himself.

Thanks for reading and commenting, all!

[phaonica]

If Loghain and Ellie were able to stay together after the Blight, that's exactly the happy ending I was hoping for. After Loghain's conscription and exile, I was worried that that wouldn't happen.

[Addai]

I promised myself when I finished that I'd buy another commission from MaevesChild as a reward.  Here it is.    NSFW

[Maria13]

Good choice, Addai, sexy as hell... so she takes commissions?

[Addai]

Maria13 wrote...

Good choice, Addai, sexy as hell... so she takes commissions?

I begged and needled.