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Chapter Text

Chapter 1) The Vigil

Layla POV

One month after the Blight, funerals for the dead are held. Those who are missing are given candles, and are assumed to be deceased as well. King Cailan and former Warden Commander Duncan are given their own ceremonies.

Two months after the Blight, Anora Mac Tir, the former queen of Fereldan, accepts Teyrn Fergus Cousland's proposal, and moves to Highever. The ceremony is quiet, but hopeful, and is attended by most of the court.

Three months after the Blight, Valendrian, former hahren of the Alienage, is named 'bann'. Alongside Neria Surana, the court mage, and Lyna Mahariel, huntress of the Sabrae Clan, he serves as an advisor to King Alistair. Talks with Orzammar begin with having a permanent ambassador stationed at Fereldan's castle.

Four months after the Blight, Denerim is repaired, and the reconstruction is celebrated with the wedding of King Alistair Theirin and Lady Elspeth Cousland. The resulting after-party nearly destroys the city again.

Five months after the Blight, rumors begin popping up of darkspawn not retreating into the Deep Roads as is typical for a Thaw. Many hope it is simply a result of the Blight being so short.

Six months after the Blight, Warden Commander Aiden Tabris, and Arlessa Layla Amell of Amaranthine decide it is time to visit the new headquarters for the Wardens: Vigil's Keep. And here is where they discover that something dark is awakening.

"You know; it just occurred to me that you and I never did travel together unless we were in a large group," I noted as we walked down the path. Aiden and I were to have escorts, but both of us were made uncomfortable by how worshiping the guards looked, so we requested to travel quietly, just the two of us. It was much more peaceful. "When you joined up, Cleon was here, and whenever we split up, Nuada and I were paired together."

"That is true," Aiden agreed. He laughed at the observation, ducking under a low-hanging branch. "The first time was perfectly logical. I think the second time was an unconscious 'please, get together already' thing."

"Cad." I grinned to soften the insult and he laughed again. "How are you doing? I know Zevran originally intended to be here with us."

"Same to Leliana, for some reason." Though he looked thoughtful, I had to resist the urge to roll my eyes. Leliana was still interested, and it did not seem like Zevran minded one bit. If anything, I thought he encouraged it. "He's attempting to meet with a Guildmaster so that we can hopefully lessen the number of Crows that come after him, and we don't have to deal with another set of assassins trying to kill us while we're having sex."

"I imagine that was quite the mood killer."

"Well, Zevran thought it hilarious." He shrugged. "Leliana, though, was called by the Grand Cleric for an unknown reason." Maybe it had something to do with her protections of the Urn. "She also suggested we grow roses around the Keep."

"Well, I do plan to make a medicinal garden if there is not one already." I held up my pack. "I even have seeds."

"From that botanist that visited, right?" He helped me over some loose rocks. The path was still not quite cleared thanks to everything, but they were much better than before. "What was her name?"

"Ines Arancia. She's very well respected, and an absolute master of botany."

"She didn't seem to like Wynne very much." He snickered. "What was it? Miss 'I am so special the Fade shines out my bum'?"

"Yes, they do not get along. Wynne thinks her incredibly eccentric." I shrugged. "But she was most kind when I asked her for help. If we find any Northern Prickleweed seeds, though, we need to send them to her. They're rumored to be able to grow on blighted lands."

"Ah, is that what she was researching?" He sighed, looking at the area. "So many people lost everything because of the Blight. It will take years for us to recover." These dark rumors about the darkspawn were not helping at all either. "But, Layla, if you might humor me?"

"What do you need?" I asked, skipping so that I was directly at his side. According to our map, we should be able to see the Keep soon. "You look concerned."

"Well, by this point, we really should have had a welcoming group," he pointed out. I nodded slowly, realizing he was right. "I also think I'm sensing darkspawn."

I managed to hold in my groan until I closed my eyes and confirmed that there were, in fact, darkspawn nearby. "Why is it that something that should be simple is not?" There were many darkspawn around. "There are supposed to be Wardens here. Why have they not dealt with it yet?"

"Maybe this is a recent attack?" We came around the bend, only to see that parts of the Keep were on fire. "Then again, maybe not." After all, you could not get fires that large, even with magic, unless they had been burning a while. "What's that curse Leliana likes? Blood and damnation?"

"I was thinking something simpler, like 'well, damn'."

"That works too." We both drew our weapons as we noticed a soldier being overwhelmed. "Take the left, Layla."

"On it, Aiden!" We both charged forward, he taking the right, and I taking the left. Between the two of us, the darkspawn easily fell. In fact, they fell so easily that I was unnerved. Their movements had been clunky compared to those at Ostagar and the Siege of Denerim. It was almost like watching a newborn attempting to walk, if you had seen a darkspawn during the Blight.

I did not much like comparison. It had some implications I did not want to think on.

"Easy, soldier," Aiden murmured, helping the soldier up. I came next to her and brought up my hands to check her over for injuries. "You're safe now."

"I… thank you?" she replied. She looked confused. "But who are…?" She gasped suddenly, eyes lighting up. "Oh, you're the Commander of the Grey and the Arlessa!" The girl saluted us, before slumping from relief. "Thank the Maker."

"So, what happened?" He glanced around, frowning. I knew he had noticed the same thing I had. There was just something 'off' to all of this. Was it because this was not a Blight or was it something more sinister?

"I have no idea. They came from nowhere." Now, how could that be? There were Wardens here, and they were supposed to sense these things. "I heard screams and people dying, and then someone ordered me to come intercept you two on the road." She sighed. "I thin it was Varel." I thought I knew that name. It seemed familiar.

"Who?"

"The seneschal, steward. Keeps things running for the Wardens." She saluted again. "I completely forgot to introduce myself. I am Mhairi, a Warden recruit."

"It's nice to meet you." Aiden nodded to the Keep. "Is there a way inside?"

"Yes, this way!" Mhair pointed to a hidden path, blocked by an ogre. "I managed to get it before escaping, but then I was-"

The ogre suddenly jumped to its feet with an ear-shattering roar. Aiden shifted to protect Mhairi while I encased its legs in ice. As it tried to move, though, Aiden rushed forward, and I used telekinesis to boost his jump to high over the ogre's head. With a yell, Aiden brought his greatsword down, splitting the ogre's skull, and killing it for good.

Just for good measure, though, I made sure to set the corpse on fire when he landed. I hated ogres.

"Ogres have a rapid regeneration rate," I explained to Mhairi. Her eyes were wide, and she looked ashamed. "You really have to over-kill the stupid things." Aiden walked over, rolling his shoulder. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Aiden reassured. He moved to put his greatsword back on his back, before deciding against it. "I was just loosening up my shoulders. I hadn't expected a fight." Neither of us had. If we had, we would have waited to come with Alistair, Elspeth, Nuada, and Cleon. "Mhairi, that path?" She nodded vigorously, eyes determined. "Then, inside the burning keep. I think that might be a new one." Now that he mentioned it... "Let's go."

Vigil's Keep was made of a strong, stable stone. There were wooden features, of course, but the main part was stone. As a result, the smell of smoke and char all but disappeared once we were inside. It was replaced, though, with the smell of blood and other bodily fluids. Rot had not set in yet, though, which was nice.

"Unbelievable…" Mhairi breathed as we came into the main room. She looked around at the carnage with wide eyes and shaking hands. "There was fighting here when I left. It hasn't been that long." Yes, you could see the remains quite clearly. "The keep has been overwhelmed." She slowly turned, as if she couldn't believe anything she was seeing. "How did the Wardens not sense the darkspawn coming? I don't understand it!"

"How many were supposed to be here again?" Aiden asked. Like me, he did not seem to care about how many dead bodies were scattered near us. I was not sure if that was a good thing or not. The Blight certainly had left its mark on us. "Wardens, I mean."

"Not many. A dozen?" Mhairi turned to face us. "There are other soldiers who came with them, though, and more recruits."

"But we still have the darkspawn creating a very effective ambush." Aiden glanced at me. "I don't remember them being this smart with an Archdemon."

"I do not either," I agreed. It seemed strange. All records indicated that the darkspawn were mindless without the Archdemon, but here we had them somehow becoming smarter with the Archdemon's death. "Do you think…?" I noted Mhairi was listening closely, and so chose to sign the next words: 'do you think this has something to do with Morrigan's ritual?'

'I hope not,' he signed back. Both of us knew Cleon would never forgive himself if so. He barely forgave himself now for it, more so because he had kept it secret. 'Did he ever give you those hugs and sweets you demanded as payment?'

'Yes, he did.' They were delicious sweets too. He, Lyna, and Ashalle made them. 'I think he promised to bring more when he and Nuada met us here.'

'Oh, that does sound good.'

"Um…" Mhairi hesitantly interrupted. I could tell that she felt unnerved. "What are you two…?"

"Cleon is deaf, and prefers to not speak, so we created a sign language based on the sign languages each of the group knew," Aiden explained. The result was our own unique language that we understood perfectly, but others… not so much. "You'll be taught it eventually. It's a pain to carry paper and pen while working in the field. But there's nowhere near enough time." He glanced at me. "Is there a chance you can…?"

"Well, I suppose now is a good time to experiment a little," I replied. Carefully, I drew on my blood magic, and tentatively 'mixed' it with a handful of spell wisps. Then, I let them go, hoping that they would seek out 'fresh blood', 'living blood'. They ended up going in two directions. One went through a closed gate in the distance, likely leading further into the Keep. The other went to a nearby door. "Well, if it worked, then we have living in those directions." I shrugged. "Of course, they could just be seeking out darkspawn."

"Even that is preferable than standing here in someone's intestines. Mhairi, you might want to move, by the way." While Aiden headed for the door we could reach, I gave Mhairi a sympathetic look as she squirmed back. "I can hear fighting."

"Aiden, hold on a moment." I turned to face Mhairi, noticing the paleness in her face. "Are you okay?"

"Y-yes, I'm fine," Mhairi mumbled. She bowed her head. "I'm sorry. I actually survived Ostagar, so some things…" Ah, I had been assuming she was a new recruit, not a traumatized veteran. That… was rather arrogant and patronizing of me, actually. "B-but I am ready and willing to fight, I assure you." Her eyes lit up as she raised her head again. "I've always loved the tales of kings, knights, and nobles, fighting for what they believe is right. While I know the reality isn't as pretty, it still doesn't change how that is the sort of life I want. To fight, live, and die for a cause I believe in. Destroying the darkspawn fits in nicely, especially after you Wardens saved my home." She smiled warmly. "So, I promise. I'll be fine."

"I hope so," Aiden replied. He was smiling slightly. "Your enthusiasm is appreciated, but I'm going to warn you now. Being a Warden is seeing the worst of battles again and again and again." Though, to be fair, we did join up during a Blight. Perhaps things were a little less gory outside of one. The Vigil's condition did not help that hypothesis, but this was already noted to be strange. "Opening the door in three… two… one…"

The door slammed open, and the three of us burst through. However, we only found a mage torching some darkspawn. He turned to face us after waving his hands, and looked rather startled to see us there. I was startled for a completely different reason.

"Er…" he began, glancing around before shrugging. "I didn't do it." Oh, I definitely knew this tone. He always used it to get out of trouble.

"Anders?" I breathed, staring at him. His nonchalant innocence faded for shock. "Anders, what are you doing here?"

"Oh, that is a good question, but I've a few myself." He pointed to me. "Why are you wearing armor for starters?"

"You missed a lot!" I ran over and gave him a quick hug before hitting his shoulder. "Damn it, Anders!"

"Since when do you curse?!" Still, he hugged me back warmly, laughing all the while. "Well, damn. I go off on my own for nine months, and look what happened!"

"Where have you been? Did you not hear of the Tower?"

"Oh, I did. That's why I'm in Fereldan, and not Kirkwall like I had planned." He pulled away and poked my cheek. "The place was crawling with refugees, by the way. I felt so sorry for all of them. If I hadn't heard about the Tower, I definitely would have been tending to them. I only recently got back to Fereldan."

"Why were you in…?" I remembered that Karl had been taken there, and that Anders had tried to reunite with him before. "No, let me rephrase that. You came back?"

"Yeah. I was worried." He shrugged. "Remember, Layla, you guys are my family. I couldn't stay in Kirkwall, knowing that something had happened. How is Neria? Jowan?"

"Neria is the Court Mage of Fereldan now." I tried to keep my voice light, but the next bit of news made them heavy. "Jowan is dead, though. It is… complicated…" It haunted me even now.

"…I see…" Anders closed his eyes, to hold back tears. "Well, I was afraid I'd come back to all three of you being dead. One out of three isn't… so bad…"

"Might I ask what you meant by you 'did not do it'?" Aiden suddenly asked. I knew he was asking more to distract Anders than out of any real curiousity. "I take it you're a friend of Mistress Layla's."

"Ah, yes," Anders confirmed. The slight warmth to his small smile told me he knew what Aiden was doing, and appreciated it. "I'm her older brother, basically."

"Oh, you're going to love meeting Lord Nuada."

"Who?" Anders frowned and looked down at me. "Wait, did you pick up a boyfriend while I was away?"

"Yes, and I have had sex with him too," I retorted, blunt words bringing a blush to my face. Anders gasped dramatically, shaking his head. "Actually, I do think you two will get along." I poked his side, knowing he was ticklish there. "But, seriously, what were you referring to?"

"Well, them?" Anders answered, pointing to the corpses on the floor. It took me a couple of blinks to realize that the mangled pieces of metal used to be templar armor. "I didn't kill them."

"Well, of course you did not. Despite your numerous escape attempts, you are not stupid enough to fight a templar."

"Precisely. I'm more of the run away sort." That he was. Despite his nonchalance and sarcasm, at his core, Anders was always the gentlest of us four. He hated fighting more than anything. "Okay, I will admit that I'm not all that sorry at them dying, but that's more because of how they liked kicking me awake." He sighed. "I know most people adore that, but I'm just so picky. And, you know, they kept dispelling my magic whenever I did try to help."

"Well, that was smart."

"Did you acquire a sense of sarcasm with the rapier?" He leaned away from my attempt to bat him on the shoulder. "Well, you're still short."

"And I've seen her destroy armies," Aiden teased. Anders looked startled by that. "I don't think I've introduced myself. I'm Aiden Tabris, Commander of the Grey. You know Mistress Layla, but you might not know she's the Arlessa now."

"Wait, she is?" Anders yelped. He definitely looked startled now. "But… mages can't hold titles?"

"Technically, neither can Wardens, yet both she and Lord Nuada both hold titles, and Alistair is a former Warden." Aiden grinned. "We just arrived."

"Oh, I figured that. I definitely would've remembered Layla, and even if I somehow missed her, I doubt I would forget seeing such a handsome lad and lovely lady."

"…Are you Antivan?"

"Nope, I'm from the Anderfels. I picked up my personality from the Circle."

"Regardless," I began, interrupting the conversation. "We are in a burning building filled with dead, and Mhairi looks ready to throw up." I tugged Anders's sleeve. "Fall in. You are on healer duty."

"You're a Spirit Healer too," Anders protested. Still, he went over to Mhairi and, with a simple spell, helped ease her nausea. I wondered if she was remembering fallen friends from Ostagar. "What will you be doing?"

"I will be fighting, obviously." I crossed my arms, and looked to Aiden. "Shall we follow the path?" He nodded, and moved ahead. "Let us go, then.

It did not take us long to push through to find the controls for the inner gate. It did take us a moment to get it working as the mechanism had been damaged, but Aiden picked up a few things from Zevran and Leliana, so we managed to get the gate to open. As soon as it did, darkspawn came rushing through, and a random dwarf appeared out of nowhere.

"Oh, we're scared now!" …Who was this dwarf, and where had he been hiding? "Don't come over here! Ha!" Why was he taunting the darkspawn?

The answer came in a giant explosion, one that made my ears ring and brought down stones from the ceiling.

As the sound and dust faded, I tentatively looked down to where the darkspawn were, finding only blackened stains and rubble. Well, that was… unexpected. I suppose it was good to be reminded that just because I went through a Blight, I had seen everything, but I doubted I needed to nearly lose my hearing like Cleon in order to remember that.

"Aiden, I do not recall there being explosives so powerful," I murmured. That seemed to surpass even cannon fire. "Certainly Elspeth and Morrigan did not know of it." I highly doubted either of them would have refused to use them. Both could be incredibly pragmatic.

"Yeah, it reminds me of the gaatlok that Sten once described to me," Aiden agreed. He ran a bloody hand through his hair. "Something about it being a more powerful, more refined black powder thing." He shrugged. "Regardless, it's clear that what survivors are here are not aware that reinforcements have come."

"Well, to be fair, their 'reinforcements are two Wardens."

"Layla, I have literally seen you take out an army of darkspawn, and you froze a port."

"You are never going to let that one go, are you?" I sighed at his smile, and turned to Mhairi and Anders. "How are you two holding up?"

"Oh, I just got a reminder of why I hate explosives," Anders deadpanned. He sighed, rubbing at his ears. "Think there was some damage, but I cleared it up. Mhairi?"

"Yes, I'm fine," Mhairi confirmed. Her eyes were thoughtful. "I had heard there was a dwarven alchemist, the brother of a stonemason hired to check the walls of the Keep." Well, we just met him. "Should we head inside?"

"Yeah, probably. You sure you don't have a ringing in your head?"

"No, it passed."

"Soldiers." He and Mhairi dissolved soon into an argument, and Aiden and I exchanged slightly amused looks. While Anders was being a little pushy, I did notice he was not calling a single spell without permission, so I did not think we needed to intervene. He was just arguing about why he thought it necessary to give Mhairi a check over, reasons Mhairi refused, likely due to how time consuming they would be. She wanted to move on.

"Okay, children, let's just stop there," Aiden finally sighed. He leapt over the side of the second floor and landed below with all the grace of a cat, though with the sound of a stone hitting the ground. "We need to keep going."

"Yes, we do," I agreed. I called on the markings and jumped down too, landing with a bit less grace, but also with a bit of less noise. "Will you two be jumping down as well?" Anders just shot me a dirty look. "Then find a staircase down."

It was a bit fun to tease them with how weird we were.

The inner part of the Keep was far more chaotic than the outer. It remained mostly easily to control, though the clunky way the darkspawn moved still bothered me horrendously. But still, we fought our way through, protecting survivors as we could, and sending them to cleared areas.

At some point, sounds of fighting caught our attention, and we rushed forward intending to reinforce whoever they were. When we opened the door, though, I was surprised to see a lone person fighting a large group of darkspawn alone, and winning. At least, I was surprised until the person paused and turned to wave at us before going right back to killing darkspawn.

What was Oghren doing here?

Oghren cut down the last of the darkspawn, took a swing from his 'water bottle' no doubt filled with some sort of ale, and came over to us. "There you two are!" he laughed, smiling warmly at us. I could not help but smile back. "When these darkspawn showed up, I thought 'just you wait until Aiden gets here and you'll be spitting teeth out of your arses!'" That was a delightful mental image. "Then Layla will come by and take care of the rest!"

"It is good to see you too, Oghren," I laughed, unable to help it. It was nice to see a familiar face, and I had not been able to see him much in the past few months. "I think I last saw you at Alistair and Elspeth's wedding?"

"Yeah, and I won that bet with Teagan." That had involved something about pickle juice. "But ancestor's tits, you two are slow. I've been here a week waiting for ya."

"Waiting?"

"Yeah, I thought I'd give a try at being a Warden." I shared a look with Aiden, and nodded. Something had happened, but we would wait for him to explain. "So?"

"It isn't something you can back out of," Aiden reminded him. He shrugged. "So long as you remember that, I don't mind. I know your strength personally."

"Great to hear it!" Oghren replied. His smile implied that he appreciated that we had not pressed the issue. "Oh, and look who you have. The recruit with a great rack." Oghren!

"Let's keep comments like that more unsaid." Aiden shook his head. "What can you tell me about the situation?"

"I know they got ambushed. Bad." Oghren's voice turned serious. "And I have never seen them pull something like this before." That was bad. Oghren was a veteran of the Deep Roads, meaning he had seen a lot. "There were some soldiers heading to the roof to try and cut off the leader."

"How did the leader get on the roof already?" Aiden bit back a groan. This was definitely not how either of us had thought the day would go. "Which way?"

Oghren's answer was to silently show us the door, and we were soon running through, hoping we could make it to the soldiers before they all died. Along the way, though, I tripped over something, and yelped. I yelped again when I realized the 'something' had been a heavily injured person.

"Rowland!" Worse still, it was a person Mhairi knew. "Rowland, it's Mhairi!" she whispered, kneeling next to him. The man groaned in reply, eyes fluttering open to reveal they were clouded with pain. "Commander Tabris, Rowland is a knight recruited from Denerim like me." She looked back at us, eyes pleading. "We must do something for him!"

I studied the man closely, noticing the deep wounds that bleed sluggishly, and shook my head. I, at least, did not have the power to help him. "Anders?" I whispered, glancing at him. He had always been better at healing than me. "Can you?"

"No, he's beyond healing magic," Anders sighed. His fingers twitched at his side, and I knew he wanted to try anyway. "If I had a field medic kit on me like Irving always said I should, I might be able to combine them…" His tone implied he did not think it would work. "Does anyone have whiskey? It might help dull the pain."

"What about blood magic paired with healing magic?"

"The main problem is that there's some sort of poison in the blood, along with there being too little, and…" He trailed off, looking at me incredulously. "Wait, hold on. Blood magic?!"

"A lot of things happened during the Blight, and I am trying to find nice ways to use it." Still, if there was a poison in the blood… "Let me check." I knelt down and cast my magic on the blood. I recoiled instantly. "It is the Taint." Nothing we could do to save him, save put him through the Joining right now. "There is truly nothing we can do."

"It's… fine…" Rowland managed to mumble, startling all of us. He had a rather sweet smile. "It's fine… Mhairi, relax… soldiers are prepared…" But I could tell by the look on her face that she had desperately not wanted to lose him. Were they close? Was it simply her remembering Ostagar and how everyone had died? There was no way to tell.

"I'm sorry," Aiden whispered. He knelt by Rowland and brushed his hair out of his face. "I'm sorry I did not come sooner." Oh, Aiden… "But please, can you tell me everything you remember?"

"They… they were on us in a moment. The seneschal ordered a counter attack, but they came from… from nowhere and everywhere! The walls, the ground…" It seemed the Vigil was not as secure as we had thought. "The one who leads them has powerful magic and talks." …Did he just said it talked?

"Riordan mentioned being able to listen in on the Archdemon, but I don't think this is the same." Aiden sighed, and glanced at me. "Is there truly nothing to save him?"

"There is none," I confirmed. I drooped, reminded of the others I could not save. It had been a while since then, yet I still… "As Anders said, the best we can do is do something for the pain, or to put him out of his misery now." Mhairi moved to protest, but I held up a hand. "He will not get better. We can do nothing but watch him die."

"In which case, I would prefer to give him a clean death, instead of risking him becoming a twisted ghoul, like what happened to Tamlen," Aiden murmured. He focused on Rowland. "Is that all right by you?"

"Yes, it's fine…" Rowland whispered. His smile was bloody. "It was an honor to meet you. I wish I could have fought at your side…"

"You gave me information that might save our lives, Rowland. Do not doubt that." Aiden pulled a dagger from his boot; I recognized it as his mother's. "Rest easy."

I tugged Mhairi away as Aiden sit Rowland's throat, rubbing her back as she shook. "Mhairi, you do not have to pretend to be unfeeling," I whispered. I gave her a sad smile. "But battles and death are common to Wardens. It does not need to be as dramatic as Ostagar. If you let it break you in the middle of a battle, then you will never be able to accomplish your goal."

"I…" she rasped. She shook her head roughly, and took a shuddering breath. "Yes, of course. I'm sorry."

"It has been a very weird, very rough day." I looked back to the others, and saw them standing. "We are ready here. Are we continuing?" The boys nodded, and headed for the door. "Mhairi?" I glanced at her, and she nodded too. "Stay close to me if you feel yourself panicking."

We followed the boys, and it was not long at all before we reached the door to the roof and burst through. As we did, though, we saw a darkspawn kick a soldier off the roof, and saw other darkspawn holding soldiers hostage. What was this? They had not done this during the Blight, right?

"It has ended… just as He foretold." Maker have mercy. It really was a talking darkspawn. "Be taking this one gently," it hissed as it knelt in front of the older man with armor. "We are wishing nor more death than is necessary."

"That really makes me question how much you thought was necessary," Aiden drawled, walking up. The darkspawn turned to face him. "Let the soldiers go and then we'll fight like we normally do."

"You are thinking you know of our kind?" It shook its head in an almost patronizing way. "It is understandable, but that will soon be changed." He looked to the other darkspawn. "Capture the Grey Wardens." Wait, was all of this just to capture us? "These others, they may be-" Aiden lunged forward, not even drawing his weapon, just punching the darkspawn as hard as he could in the face.

I laughed as he sent it flying. "My apologies," I managed through the laughter. This was just so… ridiculous. We had a talking, thinking darkspawn that had attacked and killed all these people just to get us? "But you would have been better off just ambushing us directly." I used telekinesis to launch all the fallen weapons in the air, wrenching some from the darkspawn. "All you did was piss us off." I wrapped fire around the blades, waiting until they were red-hot. "Die." I launched them with a wave of my hand, focusing to make sure they only hit darkspawn. It was tiring work, and by the time I was done, my vision was graying.

But that did not matter. Aiden had tapped into the power of his Tainted blood, accidentally unlocked by Avernus's research, and was just punching the talking darkspawn to death. While Anders and Mhairi were startled by the display, Oghren just charged forward to take care of the darkspawn I had not killed. He was far too used to our weirdness. Mhairi quickly went to support him, though, and Anders went to tend to the freed soldiers.

It did not take long for Aiden to just twist around and snap the darkspawn's neck before throwing it off for good measure. I stumbled over to the edge, and noticed that Aiden had thrown it right on a jagged piece of rock, ripping its spine as it fell. Just in case, though, I used what little magic I had left to set the body on fire as it continued to fall. Then I turned back, and looked at all the bodies, all the blood. There were so many dead, and there were likely even more injured.

Well, this was a lovely start to my rule as Arlessa.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2) New Start

Aiden POV

He sighs, toying with his knife. He wishes he was anywhere but here. He really wishes he was with his amor, his Aiden. But, alas, he is not. He is waiting for a Grandmaster to find the balls to speak to him directly, casually killing all those they send against him. He doesn't know why they think they stand a chance. Sure, he had not been 'the best' among the Crows, but he is stronger now. He learned many things in Fereldan, better ways. He also has a strong will to survive, a strong will to remain. He has friends he knows he can trust, a love who is waiting for him.

So, he sighs again, and casually drinks some Antivan wine. He hopes Aiden isn't too cold without him.

The bad thing about being used to sleeping with someone? The bed was cold, no matter how many blankets you dragged onto you. But I'd have to get used to it. This would not be the last time Zevran and I would be separated because of duties, after all.

"Practically everything is going to need repairs," I grumbled, looking over the report. The walls needed to be stronger. The gates were ruined. There was rubble all over the place. There were corpses still buried, and the smell was getting nauseating. "What a way to start…" I knew everything sounded too simple. When was anything simple for us?

"Commander Tabris!" A soldier raced up, and quickly saluted. "Guests have arrived," they informed me breathlessly. I thought it might be my friends. "Will you go?"

"Of course." I gestured down the hall. "Mistress Layla is in the infirmary, tending to the wounded. Do not interrupt her, but when there is a free moment, give her the message too."

"Sir!" The soldier ran off again, and I fought off the urge to sigh before heading to the gates. Oghren, Anders, and Mhairi were already there, likely because they had been working to clean up the courtyard.

Alistair and Lady Elspeth were also there, both in deceptively simple traveling clothes and surrounded by bodyguards. To my surprise, I didn't see Lord Nuada or Cleon with them. Had they been delayed? They were supposed to be traveling with Alistair and Lady Elspeth…?

"Aiden!" Alistair called, waving to match sure he had my attention. "It seems we're a little late." He shrugged as I came to stand in front of him. "What a shame. I rather miss the whole darkspawn killing thing." He grinned when I laughed. He had said that specifically to cheer me up. "And I swear, if you kneel, I'm going to cry or something. Rather unkingly, yeah?"

"Then I won't," I reassured. I glanced over and noticed Lady Elspeth looking fondly exasperated. "Hey, you married him."

"I am very glad for that, but it would not hurt him to act a little more formal in official settings," Lady Elspeth gently scolded. Alistair playfully sulked anyway. "What will the Bannorn think of their new king?"

"Is the Bannorn thinking of anything but whatever grievance to next go to war about?" Alistair sighed. He scowled. "That last missive mentioned an apple tree."

"Oh, that isn't unusual. There's been incidents of that before, such as during the Steel Age."

"We just fought a civil war! Why are they trying so hard to kill each other already?"

"That is where we come in, mi rey."

"I see you two have already descended into bantering like an old married couple," I laughed, finally relaxing. I couldn't help it, and I wondered if that was why they had brought this up at all. "But I am a little worried. Lord Nuada and Cleon?"

"Oh, there was a bandit ambush a little ways back," Lady Elspeth answered with a little shrug. "Cleon and Nuada wanted a bit of exercise. They should catch up before long. How is Layla?"

"In the infirmary. She should be here…" The sound of running made me glance back, and I smiled when I saw Mistress Layla rushing up. "Right now, actually."

"You two have the most horrid timing!" Mistress Layla playfully complained as she slowed to a stop. Her hands and face looked freshly scrubbed, but I saw she had not taken the time to change out of her stained clothes. "You are so mean!"

"Hey, we thought things were all nice and peaceful until your messenger met us on the road!" Alistair defended. He pouted a little before shrugging. "Fine, I'll be serious." Alistair shifted just slightly, and his entire demeanor shifted. That was a lesson from Leliana, if I remembered correctly. "Well, the original intention of this little visit had been a formal welcome. Now, it looks like I'm being informed of a massacre."

"Correct, and we're still getting information as to what happened," I sighed. I barely resisted the urge to groan. "With the exception of possible one Warden who happened to be away, we're back at our original numbers, which is one less than what we had during the Blight."

"All dead?"

"That or missing." I glanced down at the report in my hand. "Half of them are unaccounted for. They might have been taken by the darkspawn."

"Female?"

"No, actually. All the missing are male." If they had been dragged off to become broodmothers, I'd at least have an explanation. But why would they take male Wardens? "This is such a mess."

"That seems like an understatement." Alistair clasped my shoulder reassuringly, and gave me a smile. "I'm not sure what I can do, but if you think of anything, I will do what I can." He turned to Mistress Layla. "That goes for you too, of course."

"I never doubted," Mistress Layla reassured with a warm smile. It fell, though, as she grew serious. "But there really is a lot of work to be done, and unfortunately, a lot of the defense plans we came up with had assumed Wardens would be here."

"What am I? Chopped liver?" Oghren's dry voice almost made me jump. I had completely forgotten about him, Mhairi, and Anders all standing there. "I came here to join the Wardens, and from the looks of it, you could use the extra hands!" Oghren laughed. He knew he had startled me. "Where's the giant cup? I'll gargle and spit."

"Please don't spit it up," I replied. When I saw his grin, I added, "please also don't say whatever you're going to say."

"You're no fun." Still, his grin never wavered. "So?"

"As I mentioned before, so long as you know there's no turning back, I've no problem." I was horribly confused, though. I thought he had been happy with Felsi, and happy in the army. "But while we're talking about that…" I turned to Anders, who suddenly looked resigned. "Anders, what's-?"

"King Alistair, Queen Elspeth, please, be careful!" Who was this woman pushing her way to the front? "This man is a dangerous criminal!" she snapped, eyes blazing with righteous fury. She was wearing armor, so I assumed she was a soldier. "Stay back."

"Who, Oghren?" Alistair asked, looked confused. I was glad I wasn't the only one. "Well, he's a bit of an arse, certainly, but he's got a good heart, and I don't recall any charges being brought against-"

"She means me," Anders sighed, interrupting Alistair. He looked rather resigned. "I'm the runaway apostate being dragged back to the Circle for 'justice'." He scoffed. "As if what templars know of justice could fill a gnat's ear."

"Well, I could argue a bit, but I'm aware of where you're coming from. I did train as a templar, after all, and I know the Chantry focuses more of zealotry than morals in their templars." Alistair looked rather good-natured about all of this, enough to startle Anders. "But what are your crimes, mister? Come, let us hear them."

"Mainly escaping. I might have forged a couple of documents, but that's minor compared to the former."

"Don't lie!" the templar lady snapped. She looked… I'd almost call this comical if she didn't actually hold a lot of power. "You'll hang for killing the templars here!"

"You mean the ones the darkspawn killed?" I asked dryly. That was what she was going after? "We just got through cataloguing all their injuries. Unless Anders has a spell that can perfectly mimic claws and bite wounds, he wasn't involved." Movement caught my eye, and I noticed Lady Elspeth was signing something to me. I smirked when I realized what it was. "Regardless, the discussion is moot. I am the Commander of the Grey Wardens, and I am in need of fighters and, more importantly, healers. I invoke the Right of Conscription to bring Anders in as a Warden recruit."

"What?!" The woman's eyes widened. "Never!"

"That isn't your call to make," Lady Elspeth casually pointed out. She smiled gently, innocently, as if she wasn't the one who reminded me of it in the first place. "The Divine herself recognizes the Right. Unless you wish to disobey her will, and thus the Will of the Maker, you had best give up." The woman grit her teeth and stormed away, muttering under her breath. "She'll be trouble later."

"Of course she will," I sighed. Well, it wasn't like I wasn't used to it. "Well, Anders, you're now a Warden recruit." I turned to look at him. He was staring, shocked, and didn't seem to register anything until Mistress Layla playfully poked him in the side and made him squirm. "You okay with that?"

"Uh… I guess that works?" Anders replied, slowly, batting Mistress Layla's hand away when she tried to poke him again. "Yes, it works." I remembered how resigned I had felt after being conscripted, and resolved to talk to him about it later. "If you're sure."

"I would've found another way if I wasn't." I paused. "Somehow."

"You could have pointed out that by Chantry law, mages are allowed fair trials, and then taken advantage of how everyone in Fereldan owes you their lives to ensure that he really did get a fair trial." Lord Nuada stepped through the crowd, smiling at us. "It seems we're late for the party," he teased as Cleon soon joined him. "Did you save us some refreshments?"

"Nuada!" Mistress Layla squealed, launching herself at him for a hug. He caught her easily, and shifted so that he was carrying her. "We did save you some, but you were too long, so we had to give them away."

"Am I too late for a greeting kiss?" He grinned when Mistress Layla leaned down to kiss his cheek. "It's been too long."

'You two are more sickeningly sweet than the married couple,' Cleon signed, expression droll and signs light. He smiled, though, as Lord Nuada set Mistress Layla on the ground. 'Can I get a hug too?'

"Of course," Mistress Layla replied, giving him a one. "Welcome to the Vigil, or what is left of it."

"Yeah, I noticed the damage," Lord Nuada commented as he walked over to give me a hug. "Cleon and I sensed all the darkspawn blood too, and we sensed more creeping around." Why weren't the darkspawn just leaving? "So, the two of us were thinking we'd stay here."

"Are you two certain?" I asked, startled. The plan had been for just Mistress Layla and I to be here, while those two handled other duties. "I mean…."

'I may be a hero, but I am also a Warden,' Cleon signed, with a little shrug. He patted Mistress Layla on the head when she frowned. 'I have my duties, and they are clearly here.'

"With me, it is a conflict of duties," Lord Nuada explained. His smile didn't fit the words. "So I humbly beg my king, and brother in law, for leave from my duties as King's Champion to combat the threat to our glorious nation." It did fit those words, though. "Besides, Teyrn and King's Champion I may be, but the official word from the Wardens is that I am also your second in command, Aiden." That was true. I wondered why they wanted to risk him dying from overwork. "Remind me again why it's not you, Cleon?"

'They need me to be the hero and go parade across the continent, especially since we aren't telling them why I'm alive.' That was a secret we four would ake to our Calling. 'So, while I am officially a Fereldan Warden, I have the authority of a Commander, and will be traveling too frequently.'

"Whereas I am more likely to remain here in Fereldan due to my other duties." Lord Nuada shrugged before turning to Alistair. "So, my king?"

"I only wish I could get out of things to help out too," Alistair replied. He glanced at Lady Elspeth, who smiled wryly. "Yeah, I know. You and I are handling the political fallout and reparations. We can't do that and fight the darkspawn, so we just have to leave it to our friends." He sighed heavily. "It's no easy task, and I'm sorry, but I'm confident you can do it."

"We'll figure something out between the four of us, just as we did during the Blight," I promised. After all, the four of us figured out how to end the Blight. "If something happens, though, we'll let you know."

"Nuada knows fast ways to contact me anywhere," Lady Elspeth reassured, sharing a secretive smile with Lord Nuada. "If we come across information, we'll send it here." She tapped Alistair on the shoulder. "However, we must be going now if we're to make it to our destination by sundown."

"Please, be careful on the road." I hugged them both, patting them on the back. "Strange things are going on."

"We will, and we'll send a message letting you know we arrived safely." That would be reassuring. "Nuada, Layla, try not to make them drown in sweetness. After all…" Lady Elspeth trailed off, and gave Lord Nuada a look. He nodded in reply, catching whatever silent words were there. "I know you will."

It was only when we were giving them farewell hugs, and I caught the slightly worried looks Lord Nuada and Lady Elspeth gave Cleon and me that I understood what she had been fretting over. Morrigan had disappeared, and Zevran was in Antiva. They were worried that we would be hurt over it.

It was times like this that I remembered the two fretted a little too much, but I was touched anyway. I really had the best of friends.

"The time has come for us to begin the Joining. I shall speak the words that have been said since the first." Those words made me feel strangely nostalgic. Nine months ago, give or take, I heard them for the first time. "Join us, brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant." In Ostagar, where I had stood with seven acquaintances, at best. Daveth and Ser Jory had died then, Daveth from the Joining, and Jory because of Duncan. Duncan died later that same day. "Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn." The rest became my dearest friends, and it seemed bizarre to remember that I hadn't even known them less than a year ago. "And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten, and that one day, we shall join you." Though, considering Wardens and their secrecy, I was really curious as to where Seneschal Varel learned this. Why had Duncan just killed Ser Jory back then, if there were non-Wardens who knew the secret? Was it just because he had attacked? I recalled Lord Nuada saying something like that.

Cleon nudged me in the side, a subtle reminder to get out of my thoughts and pay attention. I was the Warden Commander, and I had to watch the Joining be performed. So, I focused, leaning against the pillar as I watched, tapping Lord Nuada's shoulder when I realized he was reading through something instead of paying attention. He gave me a confused look for a moment before remembering where we were and smiling sheepishly.

Of course, he became less sheepish when he realized Mistress Layla wasn't paying attention either, and kissed her temple to get her out of her thoughts. She blinked owlishly as she adjusted back to the real world, and glanced at the rest of us curiously. Cleon, looking exasperated, pointed to where Anders, Mhairi, and Oghren stood before Varel, who held the same chalice we drank from at Ostagar.

'Why am I the only one paying attention?' Cleon signed. The rest of us exchanged a look and shrugged. 'Oghren is first.' Then we really did have to pay attention. 'What are you even reading, Nuada?'

'Finance reports for Gwaren,' Nuada signed back. He almost went back to them, but Mistress Layla snatched them from his hands. 'As well as a damage report. Gwaren's population got off well from the darkspawn thanks to taking to ships, but the land is itself is horribly tainted. I have to come up with estimated costs for reparations.'

'Didn't you read that on the way?'

'No, that was estimated costs for running the Wardens here, as well as running Vigil's Keep. Since it was given to the Wardens, it's technically neutral territory now, meaning its taxes and upkeep come from a separate treasury than Amaranthine's. The Arling itself is Layla's responsibility.'

'You have got to be kidding me.'

'Look who isn't paying attention now!' I signed, hands sharp to interrupt, but smiling to make the words teasing. 'Oghren is walking up now, and I think Varel is waiting on us.'

He apparently was, since as soon as the four of us actually focused on the group again, he continued with the Joining, passing the chalice to Oghren. "From this moment forth, Oghren, you are a Grey Warden."

"What's this, the sampling size?" Oghren instantly complained. He scowled, looking offended. "Are you making a statement about my height?"

"You're supposed to sip it, Oghren," I called over. I should probably be the silent Commander, but I couldn't help it, especially when he turned his scowl my way. "One sip. Like you're taste-testing."

"Bah, you can't get a good taste from a tiny little sip." Still, Oghren, mollified, took a sip just as instructed. I felt myself tense as I saw his eyes roll back, saw him sway, and I wondered if he would end up like Daveth. But, instead, he just belched and shrugged. "Not bad. Not bad at all." And proved that he truly had a stomach of star-metal because there was no other way he made it through that without passing out like the rest of us.

"Oghren, come over here so that I can give you a health check," Mistress Layla called. She already had her hands up, healing magic dancing around her fingers. "Continue on, Varel. Oghren drinks strange things all the time." Ha!

"Very well," Varel replied. He held out the chalice to Anders. "From this moment forth, Anders, you are a Grey Warden."

"So, we need to drink darkspawn blood?" Anders asked, taking the chalice, but eyeing the contents suspiciously. "That's it?"

"Well, it has Archdemon blood in it too," Lord Nuada noted absently. I knew he was already back to work. Even if the reports weren't there, he was running through what he had memorized. Or had switched and was working on strategies for our little group. The ones we used during the Blight had to be modified. "Bit of lyrium as well. It's basically blood magic, but since its from before the Chantry, and because its tied to the Wardens who are exempt from lots of Chantry laws, no one makes a fuss. Just think of it as a specialty cocktail from a seedy tavern that has a slightly increased chance of killing you."

"Only slightly?" Anders sighed. "Well, all right. But if I wake up two weeks from now on a ship bound for Rivain in nothing but my smallclothes and a brand on my forehead, I'm blaming you." That was… descriptive.

"Interesting." Lord Nuada looked intrigued as Anders sipped from the chalice and immediately began to sway. "Now, was that a joke, or was that a subtle implication that he's expecting us to make him Tranquil?"

'What do you mean by that?' Cleon asked, frowning as he signed. Anders teetered in the background, and I wondered if he would live or die. 'I know little of these Tranquil.'

"I don't know much, myself," Lord Nuada admitted. "But I do know it involves a lyrium brand, and thus results in a sunburst tattoo on the forehead." Anders dropped right then, with a quiet thump. "Well, there's no blood. I think he lived, mi amor." He walked over to Anders and took his wrist, smiling slightly. "Yeah, his pulse is strong. He's fine."

"Excelent," Varel murmured. He smiled slightly before handing the chalice to Mhairi. "From this moment forth, Mhairi, you are a Grey Warden."

"I have awaited this moment," she whispered, smiling gently. Without any hesitations at all, she drank from the chalice, the last bit in it. But I could see the result instantly. She started choking, spewing blood as even more seeped from her eyes. She twisted and writhed, collapsing to the ground. Clawed at her throat as she tried desperately to breath. And soon, she stilled, the blood still trickling down.

"What determines if someone survives?" I whispered. I expected no answer and, sure enough, I didn't receive one. I could only wonder how many died, and how… fickle this Joining really was. "Cleon?" I turned to him, and he nodded, already knowing what I wanted. "Thank you."

'Of course,' he signed, walking over to Mhairi. He turned her over, gently wiped the blood off her face, and picked her up, carrying her out of the room. We'd hold her funeral later today. I wouldn't allow anything less.

"With the Joining done, there is another matter," Varel whispered, moving to stand in front of me. "There is a criminal in the dungeons, a thief."

"Really?" I replied, mind racing. Would this be 'my' jurisdiction or Mistress Layla's? I might need to sit down and study up on that. "What's unusual about him?"

"He's been locked up for three nights, it took four Wardens to take him down, and he managed to kill some darkspawn with some rocks thrown through the bars of his cell." Well, damn. "I thought you might want to talk to him and see about recruiting him."

"Yes, that seems reasonable." I glanced around the room, and saw Lord Nuada leaning against a pillar, back to reading. Mistress Layla, Oghren, and Anders weren't in sight. "Please, clean up?"

"Of course." He bowed to me. "We'll speak later."

I nodded to him, mostly not sure what else to say, and walked away, catching Lord Nuada by the shoulder. "There's a thief I want to meet," I told him. Lord Nuada just waited for me to continue. "Show me the dungeons?"

"They're this way," Lord Nuada replied easily, reading and walking at the same time. And somehow not crashing into anything. "You're glaring at my back."

"I'm trying to figure out how you're not tripping." There were holes in the steps, but he wasn't missing any of them as we headed outside and through another door with even more stairs. "I know you're familiar with the place, but there's been damage and you only have one working eye."

"It's not all that hard with a little practice." He glanced back at me with a grin. "You'll be doing it too before long. I promise." We hit the bottom of the stairs and walked into the dungeons. "Now, there's multiple dungeons in the Keep, but this one is the only one with guards." And, sure enough, there was one cell all the way in the back that had an occupant. "So, let's see who… this thief…" Lord Nuada trailed off, eyes widening in shock. "Nathaniel?" The thief turned at the name. "Nathaniel, what in flames are you…?"

"Nuada, what did you do to your eyes?" Whoever the stranger was, he was apparently familiar enough with Lord Nuada to not deal with titles. "Scarred and silver?" he breathed, looking a little startled. "Seriously, what did you do?"

"I am going to catch that phrase until the day I die. I'm almost certain of it." Well, it was a rather striking change, and eye colors rarely changed except due to magic. "Aiden, meet Nathaniel Howe." Well, this was awkward. "Nathaniel, meet Aiden Tabris."

"The Commander of the Grey." Nathaniel gave me a very droll look. "Aren't you supposed to be ten feet tall and shoot lightning out of your eyes?"

"I shrank in my last bath," I deadpanned. It earned me a slight smirk. "Very sad." This was all just ridiculous. "So, this isn't exactly…" What was with all the unexpected things? Was this life reminding me that I hadn't seen everything just because I survived a very hectic Blight?

"I'm told the Wardens killed my father," Nathaniel grumbled. His eyes blazed with anger and hurt. "Named Oathbreaker, even after-"

"Your father ordered a purge on my home, the Alienage." I noticed his eyes widened. No one had told him that, it seems. How typical. "We're still counting the dead. So, shut up, sit down, and open your ears. Your father was a monster who deserved worse than what he got." That might have been too blunt. "So, what are you doing here?" There was no answer. "I expect an answer."

"And I am getting my thoughts in order." Nathaniel closed his eyes. "I originally came here… to kill either you or the new Arlessa. Assassinations are easy, and I know this place far better than you two." I glanced at Lord Nuada, worried that his temper might crackle, but he remained calm, listening. That alone told me a lot; Nathaniel was someone he was willing to trust, even after what Howe did. "But when I got in here, I realized I didn't really care about that." He opened his eyes and looked at me. "I just wanted to reclaim some of my family's things. It's all I got left."

"Is it?"

"His mother died years ago," Lord Nuada explained. He held himself rigid, but his voice was calm. "We killed Thomas, his little brother, when Highever was reclaimed. I executed his father. Delilah, his younger sister, is missing, and has been since the Blight started." So many possible fates for her raced through my head, each worse than the last. "His home was given to the Wardens." Then Nathaniel really did have nothing else. "Plus, there is the added stigma of being related to an Oathbreaker."

"How bad is that?" I asked softly. I had never thought of such things before. I never thought I would have to.

"By law, there isn't one. Culturally, though, it can be pretty bad." Lord Nuada sighed, all the tension leaving him at once. "Nathaniel, I swear, on my honor, on my name, that your father deserved everything that happened to him. I can also swear, hard as it is to hear, that Thomas's actions in Highever also legally warranted his death." He looked tired. "But, I am sorry for you and Delilah. You two didn't have any involvement, but you're the ones paying the prices for them."

"And now you two get to decide my fate," Nathaniel pointed out. He laughed bitterly. "Does this count as ironic?"

"Well, I'm certain this is contrary to what you were expecting when you got home, and I've no doubt you're darkly amused by it, but I'm still not sure if it counts since it's not really contradictory or…" Lord Nuada rambled before cutting himself off and shaking his head. "Then again, maybe it is. I don't know. I'm not thinking clearly enough to be holding a literary device discussion."

"You don't like holding them even when you are thinking clearly." Nathaniel shrugged, leaning back against the wall. "Well, go ahead and make your decision. I don't care."

"All right," I replied, narrowing my eyes as I studied him. Varel had thought he'd make a good recruit, but that was likely without knowing his name. "Lord Nuada?" I glanced at him, curious. "Where has he even been?"

"I actually first met him in Starkhaven, in the Free Marches," Lord Nuada explained. "He's been squired there for eight years." Meaning Nathaniel likely knew very little about what had been going on in Fereldan except rumors. "Talented archer, knows how to move quietly, but always was adaptable. Father praised him for it."

"Really?" I shrugged. "Well, then, let's conscript him."

"You… what?" Nathaniel yelped. I almost laughed at how startled he was. "You want a Howe as a Warden?"

"Wardens take in everyone," I replied. "So, sure, why not? We made Loghain one." Not quite willingly, mind. "Let's make you one too."

"I just admitted that I originally came here to kill you."

"Oh, that's all right. I met my lover actually when he tried to assassinate me." I paused before shaking my head. "No worries. You're handsome, but I'm quite satisfied with my Zevran, thank you."

"Did you get hit on the head?" He looked to Lord Nuada. "Is he all right in the head?"

"Oh, no, he's completely and totally insane, just like the rest of us," Lord Nuada replied with a bright grin. I bit back a laugh. "Aiden, I'll handle his Joining. I'm sure you've other work to deal with."

"You sure?" I asked. I pointed to the report still in his hands. "Seems to me you do as well."

"All of us do. That's what happens when war turns into peace." That was a good point. "People need to see the Warden Commander more than they need to see the Warden Constable."

"All right." I shrugged, and walked out of the dungeons. "Welcome to the Wardens, Nathaniel. We'll talk more later."

I suppose I should get to working on drills for the soldiers. Someone had to, and I could use the workout.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3) Strengthen

Nuada POV

He hates himself. He hates himself so much.

He wishes he could be with his friends, helping them through this new threat. Maybe all he could do was make them laugh, but he knows they'd appreciate it. He knows they'd appreciate it more than these nobles he's smiling at now.

He wishes he could be with them. The Wardens were the first, and only, family he had ever known. It kills him that he can't help them. It kills him that he can't be the Warden anymore, when being a Warden was the best thing that ever happened to him.

But he makes sure it doesn't show. He makes sure his smile is genuine, and that he is the perfect mix of approachable and regal. It's a work in progress, but he tries, and he knows it works because the nobles listen to him.

He is the King of Fereldan, no matter how much he wishes he was still just Warden Alistair. He made his choice for his country, his home, his friends, and he would see it through. He'll be damned before he lets himself falter.

Anders was primarily a healer, and though he had some combat magic, he really did need a bit more. He found it exceedingly difficult to cast Entropy spells, but he could cast elemental and primal with ease. Though, given that Layla was definitely a 'magic knight' sort of fighter, Anders could be more defensive. It wasn't like you couldn't weaponize shields; I proved that often.

Nathaniel was a bit more difficult to determine a training plan for. He loved archery more than anything, so he'd likely focus mostly on that. He was naturally rather quiet, and definitely had a more practical, pragmatic, mindset… I could have Cleon work with him to teach him assassin tricks? I didn't think Nathaniel would balk at it, but it would be good to have him train in other weapons too. His adaptability was always good…

Of course, Oghren was giving me some difficulties too. He felt 'out of practice' and wanted to train up. But the trying part was that he had been the teacher during the Blight, so coming up with a new training thing was odd. I might just throw him at Aiden, and have them spar. Oghren knew his abilities far better than I did and, more importantly, he knew his limits.

"So, you think it'll take eighty gold sovereigns to fix the walls, Master Voldrik?" I asked, making sure to not let any of my distracted thoughts appear on my face. I didn't want to accidentally insult him, after all, but these training plans did really need to be made, and made quickly. The darkspawn showed that they weren't going to wait on us. "I'm not sure if that's too much or too little, luckily for you."

"Hey, coin goes and comes, but dwarven walls don't fall," Voldrik answered with a shrug. I didn't know him well, but he had come highly recommended, so I was willing to trust him. "Though it would be better if we had good granite."

"Are we lacking?"

"I said 'good' granite. I can make due with what's been given with me, especially with the gold, but if you want something better than 'decent', you need better than decent granite." He gave me a look. "So?"

"Hmmm…" I closed my eyes and went through what I knew about the treasury. The original budget had been made to account for many, many more people, staying for a prolonged period of time. It hadn't been made for a handful and a bunch of funerals. "Yes, I think it can be afforded." I opened my eyes and jotted down the expense so that I didn't forget. "As for granite, I was once told that the Wending Woods has deposits. When things are a little less hectic, we can send a scouting party to confirm that."

"Excellent." He actually smiled slightly, which grew when I handed him a piece of paper authorizing him to take the money from the treasury. "Oh, Dworkin was wanting to talk to you too. He's insane, but he won't shut up either."

"I bet it's about the bombs." I was really curious about them, truthfully. They were far stronger than anything I'd ever seen, and if harnessed, they could give us quite the edge. "Tell him that I'll meet with him either later today or tomorrow. I have other things at the moment."

"Will do. Nice doing business with you." He paused, giving me a look. "So, how do you like being addressed anyway? Champion Cousland? Teyrn Cousland?"

"If you want a title, I'm here as a Warden, so 'Warden-Constable' is fine." There was too much going on. "But if things get weird or confusing, Nuada works. I'm not picky."

"Warden-Constable since we're doing business, but when that's done, I'll switch to Nuada." He rolled his shoulders, eyeing the gates dubiously. "To work for me."

"I won't keep you further." I gave him a little bow, smirking as he rolled his eyes, and left, scanning the bustling courtyard. Things were still being cleared, and everyone was busy doing something. Layla and Anders were in the infirmary, for instance. Nathaniel and Cleon were on patrol, with copious amounts of paper so Cleon could communicate with the others. Aiden and Oghren were moving debris, and dragging out the crushed, rotting bodies.

I was dealing with the more administrative things. Someone had to, and since the others had picked their duties first, I just went with it.

"Lord Nuada?" Herren called, catching my attention with a little wave. He smiled when I trotted over. "It's so good to see you again," he greeted, voice all honeyed innocence. I knew he was really glad about the massive pay he and Wade got for their relocating here. "Truly, we're honored to be here."

"I'm glad to hear that," I replied, tone matching his. I glanced over to Wade, who was muttering under his breath as he worked on something at the forge. "Are there issues?"

"Oh, Wade just isn't very fond of the cold." Herren spoke quickly, likely to shut down whatever complaints Wade had. They were always like this. "But there was a bit of an issue with materials?"

"Was there?"

"You know how Wade gets." He shrugged. "There's not enough 'proper' metal here to make armor for the soldiers, according to him."

"What is proper?"

"Silverite is preferred." He nodded at Wade, and I saw that Wade immediately perked up a bit at the mention. "Lesser metals will do, but he insists on silverite. And Wade is at his best when presented with a challenge, as you well know."

"Yes, I do." After all, I had commissioned all of our armor from Wade, with the promise of using dragon scales. He made Layla's rapier and Aiden's greatsword from dragon fangs. "We don't have silverite, for now, but I can look into it." There was an old silverite mine in the Wending Woods, from what I remembered. Maybe there were some old deposits that we could use, and thus not have to import raw silverite here. "Will that be acceptable?"

"Of course." Herren's eyes glittered in anticipation, and I thought I saw Wade smile before going back to his shivering. "That was the only issue, I assure you. Terribly sorry to bother."

"No, no, it's fine." I made sure to smile at them both. "Thank you very much for your time. I look forward to your creations." I left then, mostly so that I didn't get dragged into something else. I really did need to check in with Varel on some things, triple-check the budget, check that no one had fallen from the ramparts again because of a loose stone, and-

"Warden-Constable!" The soldier's call stopped me in my tracks, and I made myself smile instead of groan as they ran up and saluted. "Guest at the gates!" they reported. "Teyrna Cousland." What was Anora doing here?

"Well, I had best greet my sister-by-marriage before I get a tongue lashing," I joked, mostly to hide my confusion. "Return to your post. All will be well." I hoped, at least. I really wasn't sure why Anora would be here, after all.

But she was, indeed, here. She was dressed in simpler clothes than I was used to, likely to better fit in at Highever. It was expected that the Teyrna look 'nice', but not overtly so. I wasn't sure if they fit her better or worse than the dresses she had worn as queen, but she at least seemed more relaxed than she had been when I last saw her.

"Nuada, it is good to see you," she greeted, coming over to actually give me a hug. It wasn't quite as warm as her hugs normally were, but it was a warmer one that I expected. That alone told me her cheer wasn't completely for show. "Fergus and I heard what happened. Have you…?"

"We're still gathering all the dead," I explained, pulling away. "But we've had funerals for the first batch. We also had a funeral for Mhairi, a Warden recruit who didn't make it."

"I see." She nodded, eyes thoughtful. "And how is Layla? Has she met with the nobles yet?"

"You're just in time for that."

"Excellent. I had hoped so." She smiled slightly. "Fergus and I worried for her, and I am well-versed in navigating politics that are all too eager to demand 'perfection' from a woman, while rewarding a man for being 'tolerable'."

"You're also here to show Highever's support for the new Arlessa, and the Wardens who have made the Keep their home." I knew the game. Her laugh told me she'd known I'd pick that up. "Well, I'm glad to see you. I'm not sure about the others, but these are better circumstances, and you did impress Cleon during the Siege."

"Did I?" She looked a little confused. "I shall endeavor to figure out how I did that, so I can do so again." She shook her head. "But, I will help Layla, as I am able. You have my word, Nuada. If nothing else, she is precious to my dear 'little brother'."

"And I am certain my sweet 'older sister' can give her far better advice than I can." But would Layla listen? I wasn't sure. "Regardless, let me escort you in. You must forgive the others for not greeting you. Layla is in the infirmary, Cleon is on patrol, and Aiden is helping with the rubble."

"As they should be." She took my arm and let me lead her into the Keep proper. "But come. Tell me of what you've been doing since we last saw each other? Have you proposed to Layla, by chance?"

"Anora!"

All investigations into the Fall of Highever indicated that Howe had done it all on his own. However, as the nobles of the Arling mingled and chatted, I couldn't help but watch them closely anyway. It was possible he had confederates, and I knew that while some bore Howe no love, others lost a lot with his demise, and even more with the declaration of 'Oathbreaker'. It made me nervy, and it was difficult to trust any of them.

So, I stayed in the shadows, though I gave another reasons for it. It wasn't even a lie. Layla ruled Amaranthine in her own right, and that needed to be known. She was alone when she received the oaths of fealty, and walked with Anora throughout the party.

To emphasize that he was Warden-Commander, Aiden stuck close to Cleon, and I could tell by their signs that they were snarking at everything. Nathaniel and Anders weren't here. Anders didn't want to leave the infirmary, and Nathaniel had volunteered to stand guard on the ramparts. I had no idea where Oghren was, but I could take a guess. There were casks here, after all.

I watched the guests, hunting for anything that seemed off. I doubted there would be anyone stupid enough to conspire against us, of course. We were heroes of the Blight, had slain thousands, and we had the favor of the king. It would be suicide, both socially and literally, to plot a rebellion. But there were other ways to subvert rulers, and I had little doubts they would try it.

Favors were always a way to do that. People would trick rulers into promises, and then jump on them when they were not fulfilled. Others focused on their own interests, phrased as something selfless.

Esmerelle was one of the latter. Though she was a known supporter of Howe, lack of evidence and her own status as the Bann of the City of Amaranthine made her untouchable. She knew it, too, and tried to get Layla to agree to keeping soldiers within the City of Amaranthine, in order to keep the bulk of military with her, while trying to phrase it as an important landmark.

Eddelbrek was a bit more ambiguous. Father had called him a friend, but he'd also called Howe his best friend, so I wasn't so certain on trusting his judgment on people. I wasn't certain on trusting my own judgment, despite having good memories of him. I did know him as the master of the Fereval Plains, and thus the biggest farmholder of the province. This was all the more important, considering it was one of the few farms untouched by the Blight, and thus a key source of food for Fereldan. As such, it was hard to say if he truly was being selfless when urging the soldiers to protect the farms, or if he was protecting his own interests. It was probably both.

Regardless, though, Layla chose the farms when the two of them confronted her. I knew it was because she was all too aware of how much the Blight had hurt, but she was… too blunt. I didn't hear her answer, but I knew by Anora's slightly narrowed eyes and quickly hidden wince. Eddelbrek would be a friend to her, but Esmerelle would not. Esmerelle had the money and power to cause further trouble. Still, I doubted it would be anything substantial for a while.

"You're thinking too much." The voice startled me from my thoughts, and I glanced down to see Oghren, surprisingly sober all things considered. "Girls like the brooding scowly look, but you're going overboard," he teased. "Way overboard."

"Alack, alay, oh woe is me," I deadpanned. It made him laugh. "I thought you'd be drinking your weight in alcohol."

"I did. Now I'm waiting before doing it again." He glanced around the room. "Bunch of fancy schmancy stuff, huh?"

"Welcome to nobility. It's even worse in other courts."

"Bah, its better than Orzammar." That was true. "But you're thinking too much. You're making all sorts of plans."

"I'm the tactician."

"Of course, but seriously, lad." He gave me a serious look. "You're doing okay with them visually being in command, but they need to lead. You've got enough on your plate without doing their jobs."

"I know, Oghren." I sighed. "But things are insane, so I need to-"

"You need to make sure they're making their own mistakes. Otherwise, they'll never really be leaders. I know you're trying, but most of the stuff in earlier really should've been handled by them, not you." He reached up as high as he could to pat my back. "Look, I won't stop you today. But you make sure to tell them what all you're doing, so that they're in the loop. And you leave the rest of those things to them."

"I…" I sighed again. "You're right."

"You just want to help them, Nuada. I get it." He shrugged. "But sometimes, you can only help a person by stepping back."

"Is that…?" No, that wasn't right to ask, especially now. "Never mind. I'll… try to do as you say."

"You're used to overworking."

"I'm a Cousland." Other people's 'overwork' was our normal. It wasn't healthy, but that was just… how we were. "So, I can only promise to try."

"Well, trying will make you stronger, spiritually." He shrugged. "Now, if you don't mind, there's a keg with my name on it."

"Please don't go scaring the guests about talking pants again." I grinned as he snickered. "Later, Oghren."

"Go get a drink, Nuada, and make eyes at your girl. Aiden and Cleon will worry if you don't." Times like this reminded me that Oghren was much smarter than he acted. "But now, to alcohol!"

"Yes, yes." It would be good to relax a bit, and there was that balcony that… "I'll do just that." Then I'd show Aiden and Layla what all I had done, finish some things up, and then I'd…

Chapter Text

Chapter 4) Lost Ones

Cleon POV

She misses him. She missed all of them, of course, but she misses him the most. She misses having his warmth at her side as she sleeps. She misses waking up to his sleeping, peaceful face. She misses his teasing. She misses his smile.

She curls into herself, arms wrapped protectively around her swelling belly. Their child grows in her womb. Their child, with the soul of an Old God… she will raise them well. She will raise them with care. She is determined to not be like her mother. Not when she has had so many good examples of what love, of all kinds, was really like.

Besides, their child… his child… deserves a happy home, much happier than hers.

Sometimes, I wondered if the Creators liked poking at our lives. Just when we were trying to figure out a good way to 'test' all of us on how our training was going, a soldier mentioned that there might be darkspawn still in the Vigil. Dworkin's bombs made the deep cellars cave in, leaving pockets. Possibly. It seemed perfect for our needs. Too perfect, really. I wondered when the punch to the gut was going to come. Things never went well for us for long.

'The Vigil goes deep, real deep,' Nuada signed as we walked down the stairs into the cellars. 'Some of the areas have been crumbling for decades. This area in particular was always a 'do not play' zone.' He paused as his head tilted to the side and nodded. 'Nathaniel just reminded me that there are some cells down here, and crypts.'

'If we fight undead again, I'm leaving the Keep to it,' Aiden grumbled, scowling as he signed. 'Redcliffe was more than enough.'

'Actually, what Nathaniel was trying to say is that some people might've run down here.' All of us paused as we caught that implication, and then Aiden, Cleon, and I gave Nuada a look. 'Oh, don't look at me like that!' Nuada scowled in response. 'This isn't a case of me thinking you knew something! This is a case of me not knowing, or remembering, something. I just know more about the Keep than you three; I don't know everything about said Keep!'

I knew I wasn't the only one to be skeptical, because Nuada's scowl only deepened. I felt bad about it, but at the same time, I remembered how he would often forget to tell us things. The fact that he stormed ahead, noticeably agitated, told me, though, that he really hadn't known. But I could also tell that he wasn't going to accept an apology right now.

So, instead, we kept heading down, soon coming into an open space. Dead soldiers and deader darkspawn were scattered about the room, as if they were broken dolls. In the center of that was a mabari, breathing noticeably labored.

I knelt beside her, carefully checking her over while the others checked the room. She was distressed, and her fur was patchy, covered in mud and blood. Slowly and carefully, I petted her, focusing on calming her down. I found a small scroll bound to her, but I chose to focus more on her. One of the others took the scroll instead, to make it easier on me.

There was some sort of commotion over my head, but I focused on the mabari, noticing how her breathing evened. I sensed no Taint in her, but I wondered if she would survive…

Someone tapped my shoulder, drawing my attention up to see Layla hovering over me. She took my hand and spelled out a name: 'Adria.' Then she let go so that she could sign, 'the scroll is a message from her, stating that there are people taking shelter below in the cellars. She's an old retainer of the place; Nathaniel mentions she was like a mother to him.'

'Well, that's all the more reason to save her,' I signed back. However, I couldn't leave the mabari like this. 'Let's get a soldier to tend to the mabari first, though.'

'If you give me a moment, Anders and I might be able to heal her.' She crouched down by the mabari and brought her hands up to call her magic. Anders soon joined her, and the two of them cast some sort of healing spell.

I watched the spell, worried that it wouldn't take. But, thankfully, it did, and it wasn't long at all before the mabari was able to slowly get to her feet. She teetered, of course, but she was standing. That was a good sign.

'I will take her up,' Layla signed. She smiled wryly when I looked at her. 'This looks deeper than I thought.' She pointed to a door and I saw that it had been opened while I'd been tending to the mabari, and that it clearly led to further below. 'I cannot leave the infirmary for that long. So, I will head up.'

'Stay safe,' I signed, automatically. She made a face and I smiled sheepishly before standing and nudging Anders to follow me. The others were heading below; I assumed Layla had already told them she would not be joining us.

So, instead, we kept on going, and soon found a horrifying sight. There were people in the cells here. Living people, but just barely. Considering how long it had been, they had to be suffering from dehydration and hunger. At least, I almost hoped? The other explanation was that they had turned to eating the corpses of the soldiers or darkspawn, which were… well… I preferred thinking the former.

I stayed back as Aiden and Anders talked to the prisoners, keeping my back to a wall. Nuada and Nathaniel worked on opening a door that I assumed led further down. Oghren poked at the corpses, checking if they were all really dead, but the slow way he moved told me he was more doing that to have something to do. It felt like he had something to say as well, based on how he kept opening his mouth before snapping it shut and shaking his head. I wondered what it was.

But then, there was no more time to wander. Aiden and Anders opened the cells to let the prisoners out, and Oghren volunteered to lead them out. Since Nathaniel and Nuada had gotten the door open, the rest of us continued down. Dread pooled in my stomach, though, the farther we went. My instincts were screaming, and I had a very, very bad feeling about all of this.

My bad feeling was confirmed when we stepped out of the hall and into another open area. The Taint was thick enough to smell, and when one of them turned, I saw black splotches on their face, and the glazed look in their eyes. Just like Tamlen, but just a little less. Not quite as far gone, but would be soon. A ghoul.

A hand snatched my arm, and startled, I whirled to see Nathaniel beside me. He talked rapidly, and I stared blankly before using my free hand to cover my ear. His eyes widened and he let go of me to snag Nuada. The two of them talked quickly before Nuada sighed and brought his hands up. 'That woman is Adria,' he signed. I assumed, at least. He more pointed to Nathaniel and then used the sign for 'mother', but that was the only meaning I could figure out. 'He wants to know if there is a way to save her, and Aiden is too busy trying to calm down Anders to explain.'

'And you are not explaining because…?' I signed back, giving him an exasperated look. 'You know they can't.'

'Well, I was hoping I was wrong.' He shrugged and turned to Nathaniel, making sure to sign so that I could stay in the conversation. 'As I told you before, Nathaniel, there is no way to save them. I don't think even the Joining would work when they're this far gone.'

'But…!' Nathaniel hissed, posture stiff and eyes blazing. Nuada calmly signed for me. 'There must be… Please, she is…'

'I am sorry. But considering they're about to attack us, I don't think we'll even get the chance to check if the Joining could work.' He pointed for emphasis, and I saw the ghouls were prepping to fight, with broken knives they could barely hold. This was… 'You can fall back if you need to.'

'…No.' Nathaniel shook his head, and looked so resigned that I felt like crying. 'I owe her that much.' He had his bow up and the arrow notched, not really taking a refusal. 'Please.'

Nuada nodded, and glanced at me to silently ask if I thought it was a bad idea. I simply shrugged, and nudged the others to target the other ghouls. It wasn't hard. There were many. But it was almost like another training session, for all the effort it took. We were trained warriors; these were civilians who had been transformed into ghouls. They couldn't, and didn't, put up much of a fight.

So, after a second that felt like eternity, all of the ghouls were dead. The one named Adria had two arrows in her chest, showing that Nathaniel had been the one to kill her, just as he asked.

Oghren arrived after that, bringing with him some soldiers. The tired look in his eyes told me the real reason why he'd gone back: he had known this was all we were going to find. I felt a flash of resentment that he hadn't told us, but I supposed it made sense. He hadn't known, and he'd hoped he was wrong.

The soldiers said something. Aiden brought up his hands to translate for me, but I waved it away. I didn't need to know what they were saying. The hero-worship in their eyes made it clear what it was, and surrounded by the corpses of those we couldn't save? That was the last thing I needed. Instead, I just lingered back, feeling so tired and like I needed to take twenty baths in the hopes of getting the blood off. I was used to mercy kills, but something like this…

I didn't start paying attention again until Voldrik the stonemason walked up. Only then did I signal someone to start signing for me. Oghren gladly cooperated.

'So, this is how humans ply their stonecraft?' Voldrik said, studying the large amount of stone blocking the hall. 'Disgraceful.' He rolled his eyes, and looked so offended that I couldn't help but grin. 'Barely last a few centuries.' He shrugged, and turned to face us. 'I wager that these tunnels go deep. Based on what I sense, I'd guess they'd go even into the Deep Roads.' That would explain the ambush then.

'That presents a problem,' Nuada signed. His hands were light, but his expression was serious. 'There are entrances all over the Keep. Even if the place was fully staffed, there would be no way to guard them all. Our best hope is to find a single point to guard this area.'

'True, very true.' Voldrik shrugged. 'Still, it wouldn't surprise me if there was one. This area is set up almost like a thaig. I understand that Highever might have a former one they use as a refuge.'

'You're talking about Lowever.' Nuada nodded, turning thoughtful. 'That is one of the theories about it.'

'The Dwarven kingdom used to sprawl all across Thedas before the first Blight. If this Keep is built on top of an old thaig, then there would be that one path, easily. That's how they were made.' Voldrik looked at the stone. 'We just need to clear this first. It will take a while, though.'

'If that is the case, then there is no reason for us to linger,' Aiden signed. He looked sadly at the corpses, and I knew I wasn't the only one who felt ill. If we had realized sooner what had happened, what was going on, could we have saved them? How could we defeat a Blight and still not have the strength to save the people around us? 'For now, we have more for the funerals.'

Falon'din, watch over them and grant them peace.

'We have spent too long here.' Aiden's signs were sharp, and it was clear by how he paced and how much he glowered that he was angry with himself more than anyone. 'There were people who needed help, yet we ignored them.'

'No one told us,' Nuada signed. He was sprawled out on the floor, providing a barrier to keep Aiden from pacing the length of the room. 'The mabari will be fine, though.'

'Oh, well, that's great!' Aiden's signs continued to be sharp, agitated. 'Hooray for us! We saved a-!' Of course, Nuada pulled out his leg from under him, resulting in Aiden falling with a thud that made the floor vibrate and the table tremble.

'You done?' Nuada sat up, looking completely unamused. 'The way that I see it, we did all that we could. You arrived during an ambush and saved the place. You worked on strengthening everything so that something like this did not happen again. We cannot become obsessed with the ones we-!'

'Like what nobles did with the elves that died?!' Aiden was back to signing, sharper than ever. Layla and I exchanged alarmed looks, and gave up pretending to work on potions and balms. 'Oh, boohoo, look at those we couldn't save, even though we make the laws?!'

'Damn it! I told you that politics plays a long game!'

As the two of them descended into some sort of argument, with barely any signs for me to keep track, I turned to Layla. 'Did I miss something?' I signed. She looked as confused as I did. 'What are they saying?'

'It is nothing that I can really follow,' she signed back. She looked worried. 'I have never seen them argue before.' Honestly, Aiden and Nuada had always done their best to avoid arguing with anyone. I wasn't sure if it was good or bad that they argued with each other. 'But, whatever it is, I am assuming it has something to do with some of Alistair's new policies?' She shrugged, telling me that she had no idea what those were. 'Should we intervene?'

'Do we have to get in the middle of that?' I glanced over again and saw the two were really into whatever this argument was. 'I would rather not.'

'I agree.' She sighed, shaking her head. 'I think we need to go out and do something if only to give them time to cool their heads.'

'Same.' So, I pushed aside the potions and balms we had been working on and looked to some of the reports given to us. 'Looks like there are two hunters who stumbled across a cave of darkspawn and an entrance to the Deep Roads.'

'There is also a request from the merchant's guild to look into the caravans that were ambushed on Pilgrim's Path, near the Wending Wood.' Layla pointed to it. 'How about I take this one and you take the other?'

'Yes, I like that idea.' Not really, but I knew the Wending Wood. There were Clans who wandered there often. If this was a Clan attacking shemlen for being too close, I wasn't sure if I could resolve it peacefully. I might have grown, yes, but I remembered how merchants often treated my people. 'I would suggest, however, that you take Aiden. Our last trip to the Deep Roads wasn't kind on him.'

'More importantly, Nuada might be more willing to confide in you.' She looked a little annoyed, and I had a feeling that there were some issues simmering there too. 'I think I can get Aiden to talk about what is going on as well.'

'Then that's what we'll do.' I was concerned by these arguments, but at the same time, I wondered if it was just a consequence of us trying to rebuild after a war, and having different backgrounds. We hadn't initially gotten along during the Blight, after all, even if we avoided most arguments. 'I want Oghren to come with us.'

'You should take Nathaniel too. He and Nuada could talk some.' She shrugged. 'Anders and I have catching up to do anyway.'

'Then let's go with that.' I glanced to the side, and noticed to my surprise that Aiden and Nuada were… working on something. 'What happened?'

'I think Nuada changed the subject.' She pointed to the paper between them. 'I heard something about supplies or budget?'

'I see.' I frowned, though, as I noticed that both of them were holding themselves stiffly. They hadn't reached a conclusion; they had just thrown it into the corner to work on something else. That wasn't healthy… and, then again, this was expected. Both of them were used to swallowing their anger. Even if they got a bit better during the Blight, they still would have the old habits. I was sure Layla and I also had habits we needed to continue to grow out of. Like how I was naturally biased against shemlen during Dalish-shemlen conflicts.

So, I pushed myself up slightly, nudged them in the back to catch their attention, and waved them over when they turned to look. We always did most of our growing when we were out solving problems.

Perhaps we needed to be a bit more mature to rebuild everything.

Chapter Text

Chapter 5) Vengeful Forest

Layla POV

Her joints ache. She'd never experienced that pain before. She'd always been lucky, as she got older, that her body remained the same. Oh, there were wrinkles, spots, little signs of aging. But physically, she'd been strong and without pain.

Now that isn't the case. Slowly but surely, her body is deteriorating, a subtle reminder of how she had been dead, and came back. She is a walking corpse, an abomination who has some sanity. But this won't last long. She knows it can't.

A feeling of gentle reassurance washes through her, and she smiles slightly. The Spirit of Faith does its best to ensure that she is happy and calm, perhaps as an apology for forcing this change on her, for bringing this pain to her. She wishes she knew how to send back 'it is okay'. But maybe it knows anyway.

For now, though, she has her duties. There is a conclave, and there is a selfish desire she wishes to see. Her son… she wants to see him once before she dies. She wants to see how he grew up. Who had he taken after in looks? Did he have magic? Was it magic like hers? She had so many questions, and now… now is the time to see them answered.

After the Conclave. The Circle couldn't afford to break off just yet.

I imagined that the Wending Woods were lovely on a normal day. It was certainly nice to be in a place that was not quite so brown. However, some of the color was orange and grey due to fire and soot. We also had bodies strewn about. It was clear just what happened to the caravans we were supposed to be investigating. They all died.

It was probably a very bad thing that I barely reacted. I just tried to save those I could, and finding that there were none, I sighed and kept moving forward. Anders had been sick once or twice.

"Aiden, might I ask you something?" I asked as we walked down the path, away from the burning caravan. Anders trailed behind us, perfectly silent and looking miserable.

"Did you not just ask something, Mistress Layla?" Aiden instantly teased. He glanced worriedly at Anders too, but did not say anything. I knew he did not want to coddle Anders, even if he did want to help him.

"Are you developing a habit of answering a question with a question?" I grinned as he rolled his eyes. "Fine, I shall revise the statement. Might I ask you about something serious?"

"Granted that I hold the right to refuse."

"Of course." I glanced back at Anders one more time before diving in. "It is the argument you and Nuada had."

"Oh. That." Aiden sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. He looked around the area, checking for attackers. His eyes narrowed at the nearby cliff. "Layla?"

"Hold one moment." I called on my blood magic and stretched my senses to see what I could find. "I think it is simply a wolf." It did not 'feel' like anything bigger.

"They'll likely avoid us, then." Aiden shook his head. "Right. Argument." He took his time to gather his thoughts, so I waited patiently, using the blood magic to check the surrounding area. "Alistair is working on getting reparations for the Alienage, beyond what has already been granted, and strengthening the laws in general for our protection."

"That seems like something you would like." I paused as I remembered what Nuada had said. "Oh, but they are moving slowly."

"Yes, that is the rub." He drooped. "That is definitely the rub."

"We are heroes. Can we not capitalize on that?"

"Loghain tried that." He sighed. "We have more political allies, but honestly, Alistair's hold on the throne isn't that strong, Mistress Layla. A hidden bastard is convenient, and even though the Landsmeet voted Lady Elspeth as queen and gave Lord Nuada Gwaren, there are many who think they put Alistair in as a puppet king so that the Couslands could rule. There are just as many who believe Eamon is the puppeteer, and given how he treated Alistair until he was 'useful'..." He shook his head. "Many also think Alistair was pushed forward just to drive Anora out of power. Many think that it is sexist, and condemning a woman for being ambitious."

"That is not why we…"

"Yes, I know. But we cannot know why people voted the way they did that day." He ran a hand through his hair. "Even Lord Nuada admits that it is possible Fergus set Anora up for a fall so that he could have her help running Highever. He doesn't want to believe it, but he admits the possibility."

I felt icky just hearing it. "So, even though we saved the country from the Blight, we cannot really do much."

"We can, but slowly. I understand that. Logically." He groaned. "But emotionally, I can't accept it. My people have suffered so much, and now they have to wait even longer?"

"So, you and Nuada argued, because he knows how these things work." A little anger bled into my voice there, and I sighed. "Oh, I should not have said that."

"It seems you have some problems as well." He smiled gently. "So?"

"…I suppose I am a little… vexed… with how Nuada runs around helping, but then disappears when I actually have a question?" That seemed to be the best way to describe it. "Anora is a bit of the same. I feel like they are just waiting for me to fail and then they swoop in to save things, but…"

"I cannot speak for Anora, but Lord Nuada…" He shook his head. "No, I find that very hard to believe for him."

"Logically, I understand that. Emotionally, I feel like he is leaving me." I sighed, whimpering a little. "It does not help that because of duties, we have not seen each other much. I am lonely. But I do not know how to explain that to him, especially since he seems to be just fine."

"Because Lord Nuada always shows his thoughts on his face." His voice was dry, but he smiled when I scowled. "I suppose I should also mention he's used to losing things to duty. How many times did we hear him and Lady Elspeth justify pain with 'I am a Cousland'?"

"It was far too many for my liking." I glowered at the ground, kicking a stone as we passed. "But that is what is going on. I fear snapping at him about it, but that might be good for both of us anyway."

"I wonder…" He looked thoughtful suddenly, crossing his arms. "Lord Nuada is aware that he has bad habits. Many of these habits are detrimental to his physical health." He glanced at me. "Again, I cannot speak for Anora, but I wonder if Lord Nuada runs when you seek advice because he fears you developing those bad habits."

"He could just say that."

"Again, this is Lord Nuada. When does he just say anything?"

"I suppose you are correct." I knew it would be rough, being in love with him. But the happiness he brought me was worth it. "So, if I may return to your original problem, I wonder if Nuada cites the slowness to keep from being angry himself?"

"You know; you're probably right." He sighed. "He and I will have a proper talk when we get back."

"That would be nice. It was unnerving, seeing you two argue."

"You and Cleon should argue to show us how odd it was."

"I would rather not."

"Are you two done?" Anders suddenly asked sulkily. He looked annoyed when we both whirled. "I've just been the awkward… whatever… for a while."

"…Right, we're traveling with only three people," Aiden murmured. He facepalmed. "I'm sorry, Anders. I'm used to not having 'odd' numbers to travel with."

"Of course, we also wished to give you time to recover," I pointed out hesitantly. I still should have checked on him, though. "You may think of it as payback for those conversations you, Neria, and Jowan had over my head?"

"Those conversations were Neria and I talking about our lovers," Anders retorted. "And Jowan taking notes." He waggled his eyebrows, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Though, Layla, if you need tips for pleasing a male lover…" He laughed as I went red. "Thought so~"

"Well, what about me?" Aiden asked, smirking. "What if I ask for tips?"

"Well, dear Commander, I would be happy to oblige!" Anders snapped his fingers. "Though, I think some of my tips won't work for you. They involve magic."

"Magic?"

"I have this delightful little electricity trick that the girls at the brothel liked, for instance." Anders grinned. "You can also use fire magic to heat up your hands, and bring warmth to… ah… certain areas?"

"Just say the word. I'm not going to care."

"For shame! I never said what areas!"

"I am not listening!" I yelped, covering my ears. My face was burning. "Lalalalala, I am not listening! Lalalala-"

A sudden pulse of magic stopped all conversation, and I could only stare as the trees bent to block our path, as if they were alive. What was…?

"More scavengers here to prey on the misfortune of others?" The voice was dry, almost brittle, and the owner of the voice could give Morrigan lessons on smugness. She stood on the cliff above us, posture tense with anger, and her expression was somewhere between a glare and a snarl. "No, that likely isn't it," she continued when none of us answered her. "You are too well armed, and the shem do not let their mages out of their cages."

"I take it she hasn't heard of 'apostates'," Anders muttered as she continued to grumble to herself. His eyes narrowed. "If she were a little older, I'd be worried about an apoplexy."

"I thought I noticed anger, but is it really so much?" I asked him, keeping one wary eye on the trees. She had to be the reason why they had moved, after all. I sensed the magic in her just as clearly as her anger.

"Yeah, it's a lot." Anders winced slightly. "If I'm not careful, I'll be overwhelmed by it."

"How would that…?" I snapped my fingers as I remembered. "I had forgotten about your Empathy."

"It's fine. It's just my luck I get something rare."

"Tell me later," Aiden hissed. He glanced back at us. "She's focused on us again."

"You will not drive me from these woods!" the girl snapped, eyes blazing in fury. Anders winced, and I reached over to take his hand. "The shemlen couldn't do it, the darkspawn couldn't, and neither will you!"

"Miss, we are Wardens." Aiden pitched his voice carefully, keeping his tone neutral but authoritative. "We are looking into some troubles here."

"Oh, so, you're here to battle the darkspawn?" Her anger faded almost instantly, and I frowned. That was not healthy. "Well, that's fine. If you see any merchants, though, tell them to release my sister or more of their men will die." She shrugged. "Now go, deal with the darkspawn, and stay out of my way!"

Branches enveloped her, and then she just… disappeared, leaving behind only the echo of her words.

Well, that was a way to make everything serious again.

"So, explain this Empathy to me again?" Aiden asked as we continued to walk through the woods. I wondered if he truly did not quite grasp it, or if he was using the conversation as a distraction. The woods were eerily quiet, with little to no signs of animals. All the adventure books I read at the Tower made it clear that was a very bad thing.

"The absolute basics of it is that I can sense people's emotions," Anders explained, clearly having no issues with going over it again. "It can be helpful in figuring out what's wrong in a patient that can't communicate, and it lets me project a calming influence to keep them stable while I work."

"Can you project other emotions?" Aiden held up a low hanging branch so that Anders and I could pass. We were just wandering about, looking for signs of… anything. "Like anger? Fear?"

"In theory, yes, but I'd have to be in pretty close proximity to hold it for an extended time." He shrugged. "So, it's not really good for influencing people. It's better for a shock thing."

"I wonder if it'll work on darkspawn." Aiden let the branch fall behind us. "So, I take it it's not something a lot of mages have?"

"Nope!" Anders grinned. "Layla doesn't have it at all~"

"Layla is capable of turning me to mulch with a punch, even with all the armor, so I don't think it matters." Aiden smiled and Anders blanched. "Layla, you want to show him on that rock over there?"

"No, I do not," I replied, smiling slightly. It made me happy that he jumped to my defense, even if it was not necessary. "Anders is just making a joke. I was once jealous over the ability before I learned the consequences."

"The consequence being that I sense emotions of people," Anders groaned. He ran a hand through his hair. "Normally, it's not a problem, especially since I'm all nice and trained in the ability. But if there's a particular strong emotion, I can get battered." He sighed, drooping. "You ever want me to describe the emotional anguish someone being beaten to death experiences, let me know."

I remembered that day clearly. A templar had tried to molest a mage, but another mage stopped him. So, he had turned his rage on her. By the time everyone managed to get there, the second mage was dead. Greagoir had been so furious that he executed the templar himself. Things were safer for mages after that, but it didn't change what Anders had 'felt' during the whole thing. That had been the day I stopped being jealous.

"Are there others like it?" Aiden asked, wisely changing the subject. We hit a fork in the path and he led us down one at random. "How do you find and train these things?"

"Yeah, there are a few others," Anders answered, perking up slightly. "Foresight is one, the ability to see or sense the future. I think Cleon might have that, actually."

"Cleon isn't a mage."

"But he has a strong mage potential, which can be enough for one of these to grow. But not very strong, you know?" He shrugged. "So, he doesn't see the future, but he's got very sharp instincts. I think, anyway. There's not a lot of research on this."

"Why not?"

"Well, it's only within the last twenty years or so that people decided this was actually a thing, and not mages being oversensitive."

"So, like those 'warrior mages'?"

"What's that?"

"I shall explain later, but you would find it very interesting," I cut in. I frowned, slightly, feeling my magic 'buzz'. "But it has to do with mages whose magic flows through them differently." Finally, I held up a hand, making them both stop. "I sense blood." I sensed a lot of blood, truthfully. "It's this way."

Quietly and carefully, I followed power the blood left behind, knowing that Aiden and Anders were only a step behind me. It did not take long at all for us to find the giant pit of bodies. The smell alone was nauseating, and I knew there was no hope of survivors here. So, I turned away without looking too closely, instead choosing to follow a slight sense of 'living' blood that was a short distance away. I heard sounds of a scuffle, and knew that Aiden was dragging Anders away. Anders was kind, and would have wanted to check if anyone could be saved, even if it seemed impossible.

My heart ached for my friend, but I could not say anything. It took all my concentration to follow the 'living' blood. Thankfully, though, it did not take long to find the source and, on seeing him, I knew why the sense had been so weak. He was not long for this world.

"Who are you?" I whispered as his eyes slowly focused on me. Aiden and Anders fell in beside me, and I shifted to hold Anders's hand, partially to give him comfort and partially to keep him from running for the man. His hand was slick with blood. "Why are you here?"

"Olaf… my name is…" the man rasped. He was sprawled on the ground, with an injury to his leg bleeding sluggishly. He smelled of rot and the Taint. "Came with friends… militia… to drive off the elves. But the darkspawn were too quick." He shook his head. "Ripped apart. Biting claws and teeth from shadows." He shuddered. "Everyone dead. Dead, soft meat falling from cracked bone, melting into the earth." His mind must have snapped from the trauma. That was why he spoke so… brokenly.

"You said 'elves'," Aiden whispered. His eyes were somehow both gentle and hard. "The one we encountered mentioned a sister. Are you the ones responsible?"

"No. That was darkspawn." He shook his head, hard enough that I worried he'd snap his neck. "Darkspawn slaughtered them. Slaughtered us. Took our steel. Left in the camp." He started laughing. "Now, she thinks we're to blame. Hunts all in her rage, while they watch." He started hacking. "Ah… darkness…"

It took a few seconds to realize he had died. For an almost dead guy, he had certainly talked quite a lot.

"So, all these people died because of a… misunderstanding?" Anders breathed, breaking the silence. His eyes went wide. "Maker, that's… horrible…" Clutching my hand, he looked to Aiden. "We have to stop her. Tell her she's wrong."

"You are correct, but there is something else that worries me more," Aiden whispered. He stared at the corpse. "If he's not completely mad, then the darkspawn framed the humans. That requires some keen intelligence. To plot. To take advantage." He sighed and turned to face us. "That is not something darkspawn should have."

"That is all the more reason to find her quickly, though. If they went through that much trouble, then maybe they're plotting something and she's unwittingly helping." Anders set his jaw stubbornly. "I can find her, easily."

"How?"

"Same thing I was explaining to you earlier. I can use Empathy to track her." He hesitated before adding, "besides, with this much death, the Veil is thin, and that much anger in her will attract a rage demon. I think the situation is bad enough without flaming abominations."

"That would be very, very bad," I agreed, shivering. I leaned a bit more into Anders. "Abominations keep many of the abilities of their former selves, and this girl bent the trees."

"...All right, I give," Aiden sighed. He smiled wryly. "Let's save a girl from herself. That might be good for all of us." He nodded to Anders. "Do what you can?"

"You got it," Anders murmured. He closed his eyes, and I knew he was stretching out his senses. I knew he had found the girl when he started trembling. "Got her." He opened his eyes and nodded to a hill not far from where we are. "She's there. There's sorrow in the anger, so it might be where…"

"Well, maybe she'll be more willing to talk if we're surrounded by the dead." Aiden started down the path. "Let's go."

"We're behind you, sir."

It took a while to pick our way up to the camp. It was well hidden, and there were many sudden drops in this part of the woods. But, eventually, we made it to the camp. It was strangely clean, save for the scattered weapons and the little bits of blood. I wondered for a moment how this was so, but then saw the signs of hasty cleaning, of badly mended tents. Someone had done their level best to restore the camp to how it had been. It was all too easy to figure out who. After all, the girl was in the center of this empty, silent camp, kneeling in prayer beside several carefully constructed graves.

Aiden deliberately kicked a stone, catching her attention. She whirled to her feet, magic blossoming in her hands. She glared when she saw us, but made no move to cast a spell.

"I thought you were here only for the darkspawn," she growled instead. Her magic flickered around her protectively. "What are you doing here?"

"We just want to talk," Aiden sighed. I really regretted not having Cleon with us. He probably could have gotten her to calm down quickly, just by their shared heritage. "Specifically about how the darkspawn tricked you."

"Impossible. Darkspawn are mindless-"

"I am a Warden who fought during a Blight. I know how darkspawn are supposed to act." Aiden's voice was dry, and it was clear he was not going to let the girl ramble. "Lies are supposed to be believable. Though, I can see a pretty clear flaw in their set up, just looking around."

"And that is?"

"Why would they just leave their weapons behind?" He paused, waiting, and the girl flinched. "You thought of it too, but then you let your rage and self-righteousness overwhelm you in your grief. Yes?"

"I…" She shook her head. "Humans were always, always… they had recently tried to burn us out! It was far more logical that they… when they always…!" Her magic disappeared, her concentration broken. "Why would the darkspawn do this?" Her voice cracked and she hugged herself to hide her shaking. "Why would they kill everyone, take my sister, and frame shemlen?"

"Well, if there was more than one girl missing, I might have an idea, but I don't know why they stole only one." He shrugged. "We're going to find out. Do you want to come along?"

"You will let me?" Her eyes shone, but she quickly flinched back. "I… you have no reason to trust me."

"But I don't have a reason not to trust you either. Not really."

"I fell for the deceptions, and killed all these people!" She shook slightly. I wondered what she felt, and glanced to Anders, but he only shook his head. "But, you…" She sighed. "No, you've already taken that into account. You choose to let me come anyway."

"Yes, I'm smarter than the average 'flat ear'." Aiden's voice went even drier, and she winced. "Yes, I know how Dalish tend to view city elves like myself. Cleon told me, but that doesn't really-"

"Cleon? Cleon Mahariel?" Her eyes lit up. "You know him?"

"We're friends." Aiden crossed his arms. "Does it matter?"

"Cleon Mahariel is one of the greatest of the Dalish hunters, respected by all the Keepers. He is the pride of the Dalish, and especially the Sabrae Clan." She had a small blush on her face, and I almost wondered if she had a crush on him. "He's… oh, enough of that!" She went back to scowling. "How do you know him?"

"He became a Warden during the Blight, and is now the Hero of Fereldan, slayer of the Archdemon." Aiden's eyes narrowed as she smiled smugly. "I am Aiden Tabris, Commander of the Grey Wardens." She gestured to me. "This is Lady-Warden Layla Amell, Arlessa of Amaranthine." He gestured to Anders. "And this is Warden Anders, head of our healers." Anders had no such title, but I had a feeling he was doing what he could to make this girl listen.

"I see…" It seemed to have worked. After all, she bowed respectfully. "I am Velanna, former First of my Clan, since you care for such things." Though, her voice went back to smug dryness. "Do you know where the darkspawn might dwell?"

"We will want a place with tunnels," I chimed in, mostly because I thought Aiden had talked enough. I smiled as she turned her attention to me. "They live below, in the Deep Roads."

"In that case, we will want to head to the abandoned mine, to the north," Velanna answered, pointing down the path. "I can show you."

"We welcome the aid."

"Especially from such a looker," Anders instantly teased. "Wow, can you imagine what her sister would look like though?" He whistled appreciatively and laughed as Velanna glared. "Easy, easy. I can see what happens to those that take your sister away from you." He bowed with a little dramatic flourish. "If you will lead, then?"

Velanna muttered something under her breath before stomping down the path. Anders followed her easily, but I lingered as I noticed Aiden sigh and rub his temples.

"Are you okay?" I asked, stepping to his side. I brought my hand up to heal him, but he shook his head. "What is wrong?"

"If Cleon knew this had something to do with Dalish, I'm going to have a few words," Aiden grumbled. "I should have expected something when he chose to go to the Deep Roads."

"He said the journey was not kind on you."

"It wasn't any kinder on him." He sighed. "Well, I can scold him about it later, and I do mean 'scold', not argue. That's not fun for any of us." No, it was not. "We're being left behind."

With a squeak, I realized he was right, and both of us bolted after Anders and Velanna, catching up to them just as Velanna used an earth fist to bust open the locked door and lead us down the rickety staircase. It was moist, filled with mold and moss, and I swore it was going to collapse underneath us.

But, surprisingly, it held up. It was not until we made it to the bottom of the staircase that we ran into trouble. A glyph pulsed under us, brimming with powerful magic. It wrapped around us, and everything started spinning.

"Shh…" A voice echoed through the air, and I dragged my attention up as the world started to turn black. "Sleep…" There, up on a cliff above us, was a strangely elongated person and a dwarf. I knew the person was the source of the magic. "All will be well."

As the magic dragged me to slumber, I wondered why the voice thought we would trust it when it pulled a trick like a Sloth demon. I could only pray that I would not have to travel through the Fade, again.

Chapter Text

Chapter 6) Silver Shadows

Aiden POV

He had missed his home. Finally, everything was right. It was the right smells, the right noise. It was all 'right'.

Yet, even as he thought that, he found himself thinking nostalgically for the smell of pine and dog. The crackling fire instead of the roar of the sea. The laughter of his companions, instead of the chatter in the streets here. He missed them. He missed them.

They shook a number of things. He had reinterpreted orders just to stay and help. They had taught him that there was strength among the bas. When the Qunari came to conquer them, he found himself hoping he would not see them on the battlefield.

Now, he waited. The Arishok was not here, out on his own mission, and so, there were discussions as to who would hear his report. He also knew they were discussing whether or not he needed to be re-educated. He was certain he did. But, strangely, he couldn't bring himself to care. In his eyes, he had simply saw the spirit of the Qun in bas. Perhaps that was not a bad thing.

He hoped that they were well. After they had fought so strongly, they deserved a bit of rest.

I was on something cold. Stone? I thought it was stone. A slab of cold stone. Slowly, I opened my eyes, narrowing them as I tried to focus on what was around me. A cage… some golden things… another cage… light… blinding light...

"So, you are the Commander of the Grey Wardens…" A darkspawn, talking quietly as it leaned over me. A Warden next to him, a dwarf who looked almost like a genlock, but with decaying skin. "Do not be frightened. Your injuries have been tended to."

"What are you?" I tried to say. It came out as a slurred jumble though sounding more like 'waru'.

"I apologize for what I must do. I do not wish to be your enemy."

"Explain to me." Again, they were slurred. This time, I couldn't even figure out what it sounded like.

"Now is not the time for this. Rest."

The world spun again. Still, I struggled to remain conscious, fighting weakly as it took my arm and held some magic over it. As he did, I saw him look to a dwarf, as if they were having a silent conversation.

"The Taint is stronger in him than in you, but not as deadly.. There is more power, but the cost is halved. A more powerful Warden…" It looked to me, and I saw its eyes were masked. How did it see? "It would be easy to make an argument that he is no more of an 'elf' than I am. Not when the Taint has changed him so."

I blacked out.

When I woke up again, I saw I wasn't in that weird room anymore. I was in a cell. Again.

I groaned as I slowly sat up, shaking my head. It was like Fort Drakon again. But I supposed it was better. There wasn't as much red. I appreciated that part, at least.

Slowly, I looked to the sides, stretching my neck. Mistress Layla and Anders were in one corner of the cell, talking quietly. Velanna was in a different one, glowering at what had to be the most offensive dust in Thedas.

I thought about saying something, but decided against it. Instead, I focused on slowly stretching, trying to remember what happened last time I was awake. I thought of the words I heard and flinched. 'More powerful Warden'. 'No more of an elf' than a darkspawn was. I knew what had happened. I accidentally drank that damn potion, awakening the power of my Tainted blood. Whatever it was, it was right. I had more abilities than most Wardens. You really could make an argument that I wasn't 'an elf' anymore. What elf could punch someone's head off? Not even Sten could've done that. An ogre could, though. Maybe…

I shook my head, punching my thigh to use the pain as a focus. It didn't matter. It didn't matter at this moment. I had, had, to escape from here.

Footsteps caught my attention. Someone trying to be stealthy, but failing miserably. Curious, I stood up and headed for the bars of the cell, wondering who approached. It didn't take long for the person to appear. A young elf girl, wearing badly fitting armor. She looked just enough like Velanna that I had a guess who she was.

Velanna's gasp confirmed it, though. "Seranni!" she yelped, running to my side. She gripped the bars with one hand and reached through them with the other. The elf girl took the hand easily and Velanna smiled. "Oh, Creators, you're safe…" The smile faltered slightly as the girl stepped into the light. "What did they do to you?"

"They haven't done anything to me," the girl replied, smiling reassuringly. However, I did have to wonder if she had the Taint. There was something off with her eyes, but I didn't want to sense for it to find out. "It's not me he wants." She shook her head and let go of Velanna, hunting through her pockets. "I'm going to get you guys out of here."

"All right." Velanna sighed and stepped back. "Let us out, and then we'll go home."

"Oh, Velanna…" She sighed and tossed us the key. "That's all I can do for you."

"What are you-?"

"Hold on a moment," I urged, doing my level best to imitate Lord Nuada whenever he wanted to be extra persuasive. Velanna glared, but I ignored her. "Can you tell us more about what's going on? You must know something?"

"No, I don't," she retorted, bluntly. Before I could be disappointed, though, she pointed to a nearby door. "That's his lab. Maybe you'll find something there?" She glanced over her shoulder and bit her lip. "I have to go."

"Seranni!" Velanna called. But Seranni disappeared into the shadows, not even looking back. "Wait!"

"I think she has her own plans," I replied. Velanna's response was to snarl at me. "We have to get out of here." I turned to Mistress Layla and Anders, both strangely quiet as they looked at me. "Lab or no lab?"

"We need to head to the lab," Mistress Layla replied. She stood and stretched, tilting her head curiously. "Is this like Fort Drakon, by the way?"

"Well, it's quieter, and we just had to deal with humans at Drakon." I smiled as Velanna's scowl deepened, and Anders looked confused. "Lord Nuada and I broke out of there during the Blight."

"How in Andraste's knickers did you do that?" Anders yelped. He stood up as well and looked at us like we were insane. "That's a high security prison!"

"You may ask Lord Nuada," I replied lightly. I snatched up the key and opened the cell. "At the moment, I want to get out of here."

"Perhaps we might be able to find our things as well?" Mistress Layla asked. She sighed mournfully. "I know I shouldn't be attached to material things like armor and weapons, but I do like them."

I gave her a confused look before I finally realized that I was dressed in different clothes. All of us were. They were soft, as if freshly laundered, so I hadn't noticed. However, there was no way I was letting that bit of absentmindedness slip.

So, instead, I smiled slightly. "Let's hope so, Mistress Layla," I said, pushing the door open. There was a slight creak, but nothing more. "But you want to go to the lab?"

"Yes," she replied. She glanced at Anders and Velanna, gauging their reactions. Anders smiled; Velanna glared. "I think we can find out more. Maybe even why they pulled the deception." At that, Velanna flinched and dropped her head. "So, shall we?"

"Yes."

Carefully, we all left the cell, and headed into the lab. Though I kept expecting some sort of trap, there was nothing of the sort. There was just cages, gold things, and books. Lots and lots of books. The three mages immediately went to them, opening and whispering over what they found. I focused more on the nearby desk and the notes scattered across it.

Through them, I learned more about the 'deception'. It had been because of a 'Seeker', for unknown reasons, it was the writer who allowed the ruse, all to collect the elves. There was nothing on why it had wanted them. I hunted through the rest of the notes anyway, more confused than ever. Blood was mentioned a lot. Old Gods. Songs. Keeping things from Seranni.

One line in particular, however, stood out among the spidery writing. 'Perhaps I should have killed it while it slept.'

I wondered what the 'it' was. Then I wondered if I really wanted to know. Probably not, but I had a feeling I would find out anyway.

After hunting through the lab where we found more questions than answers, we pressed forward, doing our best to avoid patrolling darkspawn. We were lucky, most of the time, and the few times we weren't… well, there were three mages. The darkspawn remained eternally unlucky.

However, we eventually came across a room crawling with darkspawn, and there were no other paths to take. Normally, this would be the point where I sighed and jumped into battle, but I had no armor or weapon, so I wanted to avoid that. That was when I noticed something convenient. So convenient that I was willing to believe in divine providence just because of it.

"That ballista is very conveniently aimed," Anders drawled, speaking for all of us. It was aimed right at a precariously balanced statue of Andraste. "Why is there a statue here?"

"This might have been a rest area for the miners," Mistress Layla answered. She glanced around the area curiously. "Doesn't it look a lot like the chapel in the Circle?"

"You'd know more than me. I never spent much time there." He glanced down at the swarming darkspawn. "While I am always up for a bit of iconoclasm, is it going to get all of them?"

"Not in the least," Velanna grumbled. She'd been prickly the entire time, and I was rapidly growing tired of it. "But the trees here are old and strong. I can get the rest with ease."

"That would leave Layla and I with nothing to do, so I'm all for it," Anders joked. He snickered when Velanna glared. "I kid, mostly. We'll look for the path forward."

"Be careful," I told them. They both smiled and walked off, sticking to the shadows. I noticed Mistress Layla was better at it than Anders, and wondered if she'd gotten lessons from one of the rogues. Then I decided it didn't matter, and went to the ballista, checking that it worked. Everything looked fine, at least for a single shot, and it was perfectly aimed already. This really was strange.

"If you're wondering if Seranni set that up, I doubt it," Velanna murmured. She was next to me, already calling to her magic. Clearly, she didn't want us wasting time. "She was never good at anything involving weapons."

"Well, you'd better than a Creator then," I whispered back. I glanced at her. "Ready?"

"Of course."

"You know; I am helping you. You could be a little less snappy."

"...I'm sorry." She looked contrite. "I have never been good with people, not even as a child. I never got the point of games, for instance, and knew even less about how to interact."

"You can start by remembering we're here to help." I didn't even wait for a reply, just braced myself against the ballista. "Firing in three… two… one…"

The ballista bolt flew and hit the statue perfectly. It fell on the darkspawn, and they screeched in fright and confusion. It only increased as Velanna's magic made roots and vines twist and curl, suffocating and skewering the darkspawn.

When I noticed some darkspawn actively trying, and failing, to save their fellows, I found myself feeling very disturbed, and very ill.

"...I thought darkspawn were mindless," Velanna whispered once the screams ended. She looked shaken. "They had…"

"Something is going very weird," I replied. I made myself focus, and filed this information away for later. "Just our luck, of course. First a Blight and a civil war, and now this."

"I suppose the Creators have great faith in your abilities." She sounded so sincere that I bit off my sarcastic retort. She meant it as praise and reassurance. It would be rude to throw that in her face, especially when I had just told her to not be so prickly. "There are the other two." She pointed to where both of them were waving below. "Shall we?"

We met up with them and continued on, navigating the caves. Every once in a while, I noticed bright, shining silver threads in the wall, and wondered if we could use them to help with our army. I made a mental note to tell Lord Nuada about them, and filed it away for later.

In the next open area, we found our things. Four ghouls wore them, looking ready to fight to keep them. However, they were… they were 'just' ghouls. They didn't have our abilities. Layla and I killed ours easily. I punched mine's head off; Layla decapitated hers with a spirit sword. When the bodies fell, we stripped them down and donned our armor and weapons again. I relaxed at the familiar weight, even as I wondered why ghouls were here. I wondered why they had our things.

I might have wondered other things, but Velanna and Anders retrieved their things before I did. We burned the bodies, and left them still burning as we left. They would serve as a good 'shield' against darkspawn coming behind us. Some part of me felt ill at thinking of living beings that way, but the rest of me reminded it that they were enemies and, more importantly, we needed to get out of here to tell the others about that weird darkspawn.

Having our things, though, made us all relax, to the point that we actually talked instead of remaining silent. Most of it was just simple things. 'How are you?' and 'Wow, this mine is huge'. Then Velanna and Anders decided to banter, and Mistress Layla and I had to struggle to not laugh.

"My fireballs are bigger than yours," Velanna told Anders bluntly, without any sort of preamble. She looked rather smug about it. "Much bigger."

"It's not the size that counts, Velanna," Anders replied, with great dignity. His smile, however ruined it.

"Did they tell you that in the Circle?" She clucked her tongue and shook her head. "They were trying to spare your feelings."

"The Circle lied to me?" He gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. "Andraste's Sword! My world is falling apart!" He grinned and shrugged. "More seriously, though, is that my smaller fireballs do have a purpose. It's much easier to sterilize a needle or cauterize an injury."

"Then it's on purpose?"

"I am a healer first and foremost, Velanna. I'm not very strong offensively anyway; I can't access Entropy skills. My magic is tailored for mending wounds, and so is my training." He smiled wryly. "I'm also an Empath, so the smaller, quicker fireballs make it more likely that I don't get too overwhelmed in the middle of a spell and make it spin out of control."

"...Fine." The words were snippy, but I almost thought I saw grudging respect in her eyes. Almost.

It was still enough to make me smile as we continued on. However, that smile fell as we stepped out into an open area, and found two dragons waiting for us. Dragons.

"Why was it so easy to escape from a high security prison when escaping from a vermin infested mine is so damned hard?" I groaned, palming Vigilance and settling into a stance. "Velanna, with me! Anders, follow Mistress Layla's instructions!"

I had wanted to say more, but the dragons decided that it was a good time to try and cook us with fire breaths, so I had to focus far more on not dying. Mistress Layla, thankfully, figured out why I wanted two groups quickly. She and Anders focused on one dragon while Velanna and I focused on the other.

Velanna's spells were focused on two things, I noticed. Fire and earth. She combined them easily, often attempting to skewer the dragon's wings with burning roots. She didn't succeed a lot, but it wasn't from a lack of trying, and she threw fireballs whenever it tried to escape into the air.

As she kept it busy, I focused on darting in close. Several times, I had to jump back because of Velanna's spells, but a quick look at her startled face proved that she was trying to not get in my way. She just had no idea how to fight with someone.

It proved to be all right, in the end. One of her roots managed to catch the dragon in a wing, and pinned it just long enough for me to jump up and slam my greatsword down to smash its skull into pieces.

As the body flopped to the ground, I checked on Velanna briefly before focusing on Mistress Layla and Anders. I debated helping, but they soon proved they didn't need it. Anders froze the wings and Mistress Layla slit its throat as it hit the ground with both her rapier and her spirit sword. The blood from both dragons pooled under our feet, and some part of me wondered if we were helping bring the dragons back to extinction with how many we kept finding and killing.

We stood there among the dragons, trying to catch our breath, before I got the feeling something, or someone, was watching us. I jerked my head up and looked around, trying to figure out who else would be there. Finally, I thought to look up. There, on a platform high above us, was that darkspawn and that warden I recalled from the time I first woke up. With the was Seranni.

Silence reigned as we just… stared at one another. I tried to figure out what the three wanted; I had a feeling the three were trying to determine what to do with us.

Finally, they chose to leave. They walked away in silence, and the darkspawn wrapped magic around itself, to the point of levitating, and sealed the way behind them with stones and rubble. The others breathed in sharply, so I assumed it was an impressive bit of magic. I didn't care, really. All I knew was that the message was clear. This was a very powerful darkspawn, and we would not be able to follow it for now.

"Why is she with that monster?!" Velanna screeched, shattering the silence and making me jump, Anders yelp, and Mistress Layla squeak. She didn't care. She just flailed about, movements jerky and sharp. "We must go get her!"

"How?" I asked softly. She whirled on me, eyes blazing. "In case you didn't notice, the way is blocked." Her eyes flicked up again and she grimaced as reason slowly sunk in through her emotions. "Likely, they disappeared into the Deep Roads."

"The home of the children of stone…" Her eyes widened, and then narrowed with purpose. "They say Wardens can sense darkspawn, even deep underground."

"Yes, but it takes a while for it to kick in. Trust me."

"That doesn't matter." Her eyes glittered with determination, and fury. I seriously worried about her anger issues. "I would become a Warden. Give me the ability to hunt these monsters down!"

"Becoming a Warden isn't something you throw away." I drew myself up to my fullest height. "Even if you leave, you will be dogged by darkspawn. You will die, in battle, broken and alone, and that's if you survive the Joining. Otherwise, you'll die choking and drowning in your own blood." This wasn't something to take lightly. "You will remain in the shadows to protect thankless people from the shadows. We are the Grey Wardens, between light and dark, and it is a duty that cannot be forsworn."

Everything was silent as I waited for Velanna's reply. I absently noticed that Anders looked a little ill, but I left him to Mistress Layla. I kept my attention on Velanna, to impress on her the seriousness of this request.

Finally, though, she whispered, "I pledge my service to you in exchange for the power of your Order." She looked me right in the eye. "I will not run from duty, if you can accept my selfish reason for joining."

"So long as you understand, I gladly accept your offer," I replied. I allowed myself to smile. "Try to get along with the others, please."

"I'll try." Her rueful smile told me that it would be a work in progress. But so long as she tried, I wouldn't yell. Neither would the others.

So, instead, Mistress Layla took her arm and babbled about the people Velanna would have to deal with while Anders led the way out of the mines at last and I trailed after them, to make sure we weren't ambushed.

I could only hope the others weren't having quite as crazy of a time. I somehow doubted that would be the case, though. It was us, after all.

Chapter Text

Chapter 7) Last and First

Nuada POV

The elderly mage hurts. It hid it well, but she knew. When one didn't require sleep, one saw far more than they wanted. Like couples moving over each other and moaning frequently. Disgusting, really.

But the elderly mage hurt, and it bothered her. It bothered her that she could not do anything for the elderly mage. It bothered her that she could not find their… companions… and ask for assistance. No, all it could do was follow and pretend to not notice.

And kill those damnable pigeons. At least that was an annoyance she could still deal with.

"Looks like this section of the Deep Roads collapsed onto itself," Oghren observed as we made it to the bridge in the Knotwood Hills and carefully descended down the rickety staircase. "Must've built a bit too close to the surface."

"Is this a recent thing or something that's always been none and no one did anything about it?" Nathaniel asked. He was easily the wariest of us on the staircase, and it took me a second to remember he'd told me about a bad fall down some stairs a long, long time ago. "Both seem equally likely, and I can't remember hearing much of this area."

"I can't say I've heard much of anything either, so I'm going to guess the former," I answered. It was really hard to sign for Cleon and travel down these stupid stairs, all the more so because Cleon was behind me. After all, for some stupid reason, I'd ended up taking lead down these things. "Why am I in front again?"

"You're the one who was stupid enough to let himself be volunteered."

"That sounds about right." I sighed. "Regardless, all I remember about the place is that it's inhospitable, filled with gnarled and dying trees, completely infertile, and prone to rockslides and sinkholes."

"Most of which we can tell just by looking around." Nathaniel yelped as the staircase shook under us. "How injured would we get if we just jump?"

"We're almost at the bottom, though if anyone wants to keep a good eye on another way up, that'll be nice." Still, I was very, very glad when I got off the damn staircase and moved away from the slopes. Sinkholes would still be a danger, but at least I wouldn't see those coming! "Maker, I can fully understand why Father threatened to ground me forever if I came here willingly."

"My mother made the same threat." Nathaniel groaned as he stretched, rolling his shoulders. "I'd rather climb the wall than that staircase. I really would."

"I hear you." I turned to Oghren and Cleon, frowning worriedly. "Are you two all right?"

'I am fine," Cleon signed. He frowned as he looked around. 'There is an odd smell in the air, though.'

"That's the smell of the Deep, lad," Oghren instantly answered, before I could even ask what smell they were talking about. "It's distinctive. You never forget it, and you're more reliant on your sense of smell than the rest of us, so I'm sure you really smell it."

'Oh. Lovely.'

Oghren laughed and took point as we wandered through the area, claiming something about 'Stone Sense' to tell where sinkholes might be. However, it didn't take me long at all to realize what he was really doing. He was pulling Nathaniel ahead, and I couldn't help but smile. He really was far more observant than he'd like people to believe.

I slowed my pace to make it a little easier for Oghren to pull off his plan, and he shot me a knowing look before striking up a conversation with Nathaniel in a rather hilariously awkward way. I had no idea how to react to Nathaniel being called 'Howe's little blighter', and the look on Nathaniel's face said he had even less of a clue. But that didn't matter because all I had to do was turn to see Cleon giving me the stare of 'you and I will talk and I will get answers or so help me, Creators…!'.

"Aw, Cleon, I know I'm handsome and all, but do you have to stare so longingly?" I teased, mostly to lighten the tension of the air.

He cracked a small smile before signing, 'I suppose you are, though I am certain Layla appreciates said handsomeness far more than I could.'

"Of course she does. She has an eye for beauty! After all, she is a work of art come to life!"

'I cannot imagine kissing paint as something thrilling.'

"Well, I suppose it might be better than kissing a statue. I did do that once, though in my defense, I was really drunk, and the statue was a better kisser than my previous company that night." I grinned as his smile widened. "All right. I know you have something to ask. I only pray I have an answer."

'Oh, you will.' His smile fell. 'It's the argument.'

"...Ah, I suppose that was a bit unnerving." I sighed, crossing my arms. I glanced down the path to make sure Oghren and Nathaniel weren't killing each other before turning my full attention to him. "The heart of it is simple, perhaps too much so for our group. Alistair and Elspeth want to strengthen protections on elves, but have to move slowly."

'Why?' Cleon's eyes were serious as he signed. 'Should you not shake things up from the start?'

"They are." I bit back another sigh. I remembered that council meeting well, and not just because it had been the first. "But considering how damaged Fereldan is, the shaking up is a little…" I had no idea how to explain this and decided to just jump to the heart of it. "We're asking Orlais for help. We do not have the funds, farmland, and manpower to repair on our own. We're also asking other countries, of course, but that's the one getting the most clamor."

'And their aid is needed?'

"We can't afford to offend them, Cleon, by not asking for their help, when we are also asking other countries for aid. But explaining that to those childish, self-centered…" I bit off my growl, shaking my head and throwing my hands up in the air briefly before bringing them back down to sign. "Basically, it's all politics and I'm reminded on why I planned on leaving them."

'Aiden knows this?'

"In his head, he does. Maker knows he's got a good grasp of politics; he had to in order to survive as a servant to a noble house. The problem is that his heart aches, and I cannot blame him for that." I definitely could not, especially since my own ached when I saw the damage to the Alienage, and it was 'simply' a friend's home. "So, that's it, really. It doesn't help that Alistair's hold on the throne is precarious, and that's especially bad in Fereldan, where rulers do not so much as rule as reign."

'And the difference is?'

"The difference being that the king is a respected peer, but a peer nonetheless. Alistair has to win their loyalty, and the loyalty of the people, while also trying to repair Fereldan and do all the changes he wants." My head hurt just thinking about all of it. "So, we go slowly. In politics, if you don't play the long game, you're going to lose, and lose badly."

'And that is why you two argued.'

"Yes, and again, I do not blame him for being frustrated. It's difficult to tell someone that they 'just have to endure a little longer', especially when you cannot promise when they can stop enduring." I made a face. "It's easy to see why all the stories stop once the bad guy is defeated with a 'and they all lived happily ever after'. Restoring peace is boring and time consuming frustration."

'Is there…' He hesitated briefly before continuing. 'I am an elf, and I am their hero. Can I do anything to help?'

"Wait, really?" That startled me. I'd thought Cleon would want to stay clear of the politics, especially given how the Wardens were treating all of us. "Give me a bit to think on it. We all do hold some political clout just by being the 'Heroes of the Blight', and you especially do as the 'Slayer of the Archdemon'. But Loghain was also a hero."

'Ah, so the people might not be quite as willing to listen to a hero nowadays.'

"Yes, but that doesn't mean there isn't a way to play things." I grinned. "I'll send a message to Elspeth and Alistair when we get back, and see what we all can do. I thought you would gladly take the excuse to not get involved in the madness."

'I am friends with you. I am used to madness.' His droll look made me laugh. 'Besides, the three of you are tied up in it. I am with you, always.'

"...Thanks, Cleon." It really was reassuring, having someone you trusted at your side. "I appreciate it."

'I am glad, for I am about to go into another topic.' He gave me a look that promised trouble. 'There have been times when Layla has tried to find you, and Anora, for advice.' He waited for me to answer, but even as I brought my hands up to do so, I found them still. 'So? I am assuming it's something that makes sense with your twisted logic.'

"Give me a moment." I wanted to collect all my thoughts. "There are… multiple reasons, and they all play and bounce with one another."

'Oh, this is going to be good.' Cleon glanced around, and took a seat on some nearby rocks. 'This is going to be real good.'

"I shall endeavor to live up to your expectations." I gave him the drollest look I could manage, and he hid a grin behind his hand. "Okay, let's start with Anora." I sighed. "She's here for a few reasons. One is to show support. Technically speaking, Fergus is Layla's liege lord, and Layla graciously gives Warden Commander Aiden use of her lands as more accessible headquarters, especially since the old keep is in dire need of good cleaning."

'And Anora is Fergus's wife, so her being here shows that Fergus supports her.' Cleon nodded. 'Not very complicated.'

"I'm not done." I gave him a sulky look, and he hid another grin. "Now, the second reason is to give advice. Anora knows what it's like to be a competent woman surrounded by idiot men who are all very, very certain they know more. However, Anora also believes Layla needs to 'fail' a bit… no, wait, that's the wrong word." I paused, thinking again. "Anora learned through trial and error. She thinks the best way to make Layla take 'ruling' seriously is through that same method. It's not out of malice, but it's one thing to be told something repeatedly..."

'While it's another thing entirely to see it happening.' Cleon reluctantly nodded. 'I can see that, though I do not fully agree with it.'

"Neither do I, but since I don't think any of the nobles around here will be stupid enough to do anything drastic, we do have the time. We might get a little revolt since Layla's off being the heroic Warden instead of the working Arlessa, but…" I shrugged. "I can't fault her for leaving to look into this directly either. It's us. Things are always complicated."

'In this way, she can truly see the burden.' He shook his head. 'Again, I understand, but do not fully agree.'

"In retrospect, neither do I, but this is also how I learned, so it's not something I can look at unbiasedly until long after the fact." I made a face. "The third reason, though, is… Cleon, remember who she is."

'Anora is Anora.'

"Well, yes, that's true. But she is also the former queen who the Landsmeet voted against. She is the daughter of a traitor, who was almost named Oathbreaker. She is the daughter of the man who let Howe take over Highever." My signs sharpened slightly, and I worked to relax them. "Cleon, Highever is cold to her. I cannot blame them too much either, but it does make things uncomfortable. Fergus does his best, and Oren adores her, but the people… not so much."

'So, she is here…' Cleon's eyes lit up in understanding. 'Ah, so she is also here as a means of giving time for Highever's temper to calm, and to show she is different from her father.'

"Yes." I nodded. "But all that also means being careful to not take over Layla's power. There is a point where advice becomes puppetting, and the people of Amaranthine and Highever will jump on her at the first sign. So, she also keeps her distance for fear of appearing too controlling. It doesn't help that Anora has a strong personality."

'I see.' Cleon frowned. 'And you?'

"I have… similar reasons." I grimaced. "To be blunt, I do know more about… all of this shit. I lived and breathed politics for all my life. I know budgets. I know how to run a place like Amaranthine and Vigil's Keep. I don't know them as well as Elspeth, but I was always the warrior while she was the diplomat. I do know more than Aiden and Layla, and I want, more than anything, to help them. But too much help…" I shrugged, feeling a bit helpless, funnily enough. "Too much help undermines them. Oghren has warned me already."

'Ah, because then, they simply appear as figureheads, and you do not want that.'

"More importantly, Cleon, is that I cannot afford that. In addition to being Warden Constable and King's Champion, I am the Teyrn of Gwaren, and believe me, I'm up to my eyes in paperwork. I simply can't take all of it. But I'm used to overworking, and I'm used to smiling even though everything hurts."

'And, again, you love Aiden and Layla, so you want to help.' Cleon nodded. 'So, you keep your distance from Layla when she asks for fear of taking over, both for your sake and hers.'

"There's… also my bad habit of denial and running away that I swore I was better at until peace brought all these situations back." I sighed. "That leads to the other reason. Cleon, when it comes to working, I have the most unhealthy habits. All of us Couslands do, and it's because our people expected us to be 'perfect'. Only now, that reputation is hurting us, because Howe loathed us for it, and now people are wondering if we're using that 'perfection' as a justification for taking over Fereldan."

'Taking over?' Cleon looked confused now. 'What do you mean?'

"I mean that, thanks to the Landsmeet's idiocy, the Couslands have control over the only Teyrnirs left in Fereldan, and of the throne, thanks to having a Cousland Queen." I bit back a growl as I remembered a particularly loudmouth noble. "I swear; if it hadn't been the Landsmeet that decided Elspeth would be queen and that I would be the Teyrn of Gwaren, Fereldan might be in the middle of another civil war."

'But they gave it to you!' Cleon's signs were sharp, and there was a fierce protectiveness in his eyes that soothed my battered spirit. 'Neither of you even suggested you wanted either position. Fen'harel's teeth…'

"Yeah, but you'll find that politics have conveniently short or long memories depending on what suits them." I sighed again. "All of that adds up to me not having much in the way of patience, so when Aiden brought it up…"

'You lashed, because the other option was to run.' Cleon nodded, still tense enough to shake. 'I am going to help. However I can. I should've been doing that sooner.'

"Cleon, you've spent a great deal of these past six months recovering." That, however, reminded me of something. "Cleon, about Morrigan-"

'Don't.' His signs were sharp again, but this time, it was from anger and pain. 'Please.'

"Okay." I looked him right in the eye. "But only if you promise to not sit on it. We don't need another me."

'All right.' Cleon nodded slowly. 'But it might be a while.'

"That's fine, and I won't speak a word of it to the others unless it looks like it's affecting your work."

'Ma serranas.'

"Nuada! Cleon!" Oghren's call made me whirl, Cleon jumping down from his perch a split-second later. "Come here!" Oghren continued, waving. "Got some blighters!"

"Back to work, then," I noted lightly. I signed both Oghren's words and mine for Cleon, and he nodded, sighing heavily. "Yeah, it's so rude of them to come in while we were having an intelligent conversation."

'Intelligent?' Cleon signed, giving me a droll look. 'What intelligence?'

"Alack, alay! Oh, woe is me!"

'Get a move on, dramatic.' Cleon moved ahead, hiding a smile, and I smiled as I followed him over to where Oghren and Nathaniel were. I expected to just jump into the fight, only to realize why Oghren and Nathaniel hadn't done that very thing.

The darkspawn were fighting a dwarf, one of the Legion if I had to make a guess. I watched as they tried to drag her off, only for her to twist, kick their legs out from under them, and use their own maces to splatter their skulls. "I don't think they need our help," I deadpanned as they fought off the rest easily. "Why don't we let them go about their merry bloody way?"

No one replied as the dwarf finished off the last of them and turned, rolling their shoulders. They started when they saw us, but recovered quickly. "Well, that was close," they noted with a smile. They walked over, subtly stretching. "Hello, there. Don't mind me. I was just about to really join the Legion of the Dead."

'I think they hit their head,' Cleon instantly signed, expression droll. I watched their eyes follow the signs and frown. 'Oh, they are smart, though. I used more of the Orzammar signs Oghren taught us for that sentence.'

"I think I caught the word smart in there," they called, confirming Cleon's words. "Not sure of the rest of the signs, though. What sort of sign language is that?"

"It's honestly a mixture of many different ones," I explained, grinning. I liked the cheerful-in-the-face-of-death sort. "There's some Kinloch Hold, Templar, Antivan, Val Royeaux, Orzammar-"

"Soldier Caste Orzammar." They shook their head. "Different castes have their own sign language."

"I stand corrected." I bowed slightly, and they laughed. "But, truly, are you all right?"

"Well, I might've cracked a rib, but it's hard to be certain. Everything hurts."

"We would be without a healer." I sighed, shaking my head. "Well, I think we have some medicines."

"I'll be fine once I catch my breath, but thank you." They shrugged. "I can't stay to chat for long. I need to head back, as foolish as it sounds. See what I can do."

"Back… where?"

"The old fortress of Kal'Hirol." They snorted as Oghren gaped. "Yeah, that one. The one everyone just decided to ignore. There's something big going on there. The darkspawn are breeding an army. So, Kardol gave us our marching orders, so to speak. But it proved too much. I'm… all that's left of the squadron. It was a massacre."

"Damn…" Oghren whispered. His whistled softly, shaking his head. "I'll be a nug's uncle. Darkspawn destroying an entire squadron sent by Kardol himself? That's not good."

"Yeah, you'd know," they sighed. "They're smart now. I saw them taking the women, and I wasn't sticking around for that. So, I ran. Like a coward. A dead coward, isn't that hilarious?"

"You did give us a warning," I pointed out. All I could think was how coincidental some things went. "Oh, I don't suppose we've introduced ourselves, have we? I'm Nuada, the Warden-Constable for Fereldan, over here we have Cleon, the Slayer of the Archdemon. We also have Oghren, who you're familiar with, and Nathaniel, our new blood who we need to break in." I grinned as Nathaniel rolled his eyes. "You are?"

"Sigrun, a Legion Scout." They looked a little dazed. "The ancestors really must've had a hand in this. I… guess it makes me feel a little better. Maybe." They shrugged, recovering quickly again. "I can show you the way. Safety in numbers." They suddenly grinned. "Besides, with your help, things are no longer impossible! Merely improbable."

"Ah, yes, that's our specialty. We make the impossible improbable, and then pull it off anyway." This was going to be such a great day. "Lead on, Sigrun."

"I don't know much about Kal'hirol, except what the others told me," Sigrun explained as we stepped out of the caves of the Deep Roads and into the surprisingly open area that surrounded the old thaig. "It used to be important, a center of learning for the smith caste."

"Branka loved complaining about it not being around," Oghren whispered. His eyes were sad as he looked out. "I can still hear it. Lots of knowledge was lost here, when it fell, and no one ever made a second one."

"Still, it does look magnificent," Nathaniel breathed. We all clustered at the edge of cliff, looking over everything. "I've never seen anything like it."

'If we have to fight golems, I am going to scream,' Cleon signed. He was the only one not impressed by everything. 'Can we get going? Now?'

"I'm guessing by his exasperated look that Cleon is not impressed?"

'No, I saw the Anvil of the Void and bunches of suicides. I want to get out of here.'

"What is he saying?" Nathaniel looked to me. "I picked up 'anvil' and 'void'."

"Well, last time Cleon was in the Deep Roads, he got to recover the knowledge of how the dwarven golems were made," I explained, keeping my voice light. "It wasn't pretty and was lost for a reason." I smiled at the others. "But we can stay to admire the view… or get to destroying that potential army. I like the latter."

The others murmured in agreement, and walked on. I lingered back with Cleon, giving him a worried look.

He smiled wryly at my silent question. 'I am fine,' he signed. 'My last trip was not very fun, and I am simply remembering. It is nothing worse than my own nightmares.'

"Then why did you come here?" I asked. "The whole point had been to investigate the Roads."

'One, I don't want Layla anywhere near a damned Broodmother. Two…' He paused and sighed. 'Two, the Wending Woods is a known traveling place for a few Dalish Clans. If it was a conflict between merchants and Dalish, I do not trust myself.'

"Did you warn them?" I snickered as his expression blanked. "Oh, they're going to let you have it if that's the case."

'I meant to! I swear it!' His eyes were panicked. 'Oh, Mythal, protect me from their righteous wraths!'

"This is going to be hilarious." I might've teased him more, but a startled cry made me panic and I was racing down the hill. Cleon was a split-second behind me, and stayed behind me even though I knew he was much faster. He didn't know what had made me react, after all, and I wanted to get there before I even tried to sign out what was going on.

We caught up with the others easily, and it was there I saw what was going on. Sigrun had yelped because she'd found a bleeding dwarf, one she apparently knew. She looked up from him as Cleon and I approached. "His name is Jukka," she told me. "He's hurt. Bad."

"Yeah, gut wounds are typically bad," I whispered, kneeling beside them, knowing Oghren would fill Cleon in. I grimaced when I saw how much blood there was. "Damn… I don't think even healing magic could patch him up. Anyone have whiskey or something to help him with the pain?"

"Nah, I can't stand alcohol," the dwarf, Jukka, laughed. It instantly turned to wheezing. "Thank you for the thought, though."

"Well, Oghren can drink your share." I made myself smile as he wheezed another laugh. "I'm sure he'll appreciate it."

"Sounds… like a plan."

"Jukka, stop joking around," Sigrun scolded. She hunted through her packs for bandages, grimacing when she came up empty. "Just… just stay still, don't talk, and…"

"No, Sigrun, it's fine," Jukka reassured. "I feel death on me, and it is… a sweet release." He managed a smile, and I wished his teeth were bloody or something. It was just unnerving to see him gasping from a gut wound. It reminded me of the last time I saw Father. "But you must listen… there are broodmothers." He focused solely on Sigrun, even as his eyes clouded over. "Breeding… you must stop them." He gripped her arm with a bloody hand. "But beware… the children… abominations… even among darkspaw...nnnn..."

He died then, still holding onto Sigrun. She stared, not quite registering, even as Nathaniel knelt down and carefully removed his hand from her arm.

"Damn," I cursed, unable to think of anything else to say. Cleon's mouth moved without sound and I wondered if he was mouthing a Dalish prayer. I thought about the same, but then decided that the Maker wouldn't care. "So, does anyone know what 'the Children' are?" No one answered. "Oh, this is going to be absolutely lovely." I stood up slowly, and looked to Sigrun. "What do you want to do with the body?"

"If…" Sigrun began. She hesitated before shaking her head. "No, we can… bury him when we're out of Kal'Hirol. Right now, we need to get a move on."

"Are you sure?" I studied her face as she nodded before nodding too. "All right. Everyone eyes and ears open."

Slowly, we left Jukka's body behind and made our way through the ruined thaig. I couldn't help but notice how pretty things were, death and gloom aside. It was all too easy to see just how this had once been a thriving city, and some part of me was saddened by this loss. Many, many thaigs were lost, and the surface had done nothing to help the dwarves while they fought for their lives.

But that complicated mess of sadness and guilt disappeared as we approached the main gates of Kal'Hirol and I realized something: we hadn't encountered anything. There had been no darkspawn or creatures of the deep. We had just wandered, looking around as Sigrun led us to the old fortress.

That's where it became really obvious where they had all gone. The 'courtyard' was covered in bodies and body parts. There were some creatures like deep stalkers, there were a couple of dwarves, but most were darkspawn. Most of those darkspawn looked as if they had been eaten, and I wondered what sort of creature fed on them.

I got my answer not two seconds later as three… things crawled out of the shadows. Its face was a horrible mottled red and grey, the same eerie color of a freshly healed burn scar. Its face was uneven, with badly misaligned eyes. In fact, it looked as if one side had one beady red eye while the other had two.

That was all just the head. It was attached to a body that looked like an oversize pill bug, but moved like a maggot, wriggling and writhing as it slowly ate through a darkspawn's guts. The 'connecting' part of the body and head, what I'd call the 'neck' on anything else, was a mess of red pieces of flesh, like a stretched out muscle. It looked like a child had just… taken two ripped apart things and stitched them together haphazardly.

It took me a second to realize they pulsed with the Taint and I realized something horrifying. These were darkspawn. These were a type of darkspawn that had not shown during the Blight. For all we knew, these were completely new. These… were the Children Jukka mentioned. I was certain of it.

I was also certain that a giant maggot creature shouldn't be able to spit venom and knock me to the ground, but that also happened.

I bellowed a war cry as I hit the ground, close enough to its face to make it flinch. Then I twisted and tapped into the power of a Reaver to boost my strength even as my back spasmed from pain. I drove my sword through its back and ripped it out, almost splitting the thing in two. It writhed over to a nearby darkspawn, though, and began to gorge itself, and I could only gape as I watched its skin knit back together. So, I bashed it with my shield, sending it into the wall, and chased it down, striking as many times as I could. It curled into itself, presenting its armored back, and lunged when I paused, biting into my neck. I jerked away, and growled as it knit together again.

Then an arrow slammed into its eye, making it screech. I took the opportunity to bring my sword down with all the strength I had, shattering the skull and turning the rest of it into a bloody, oozing mess.

I waited for a long moment, certain it would reanimate, but it remained still with death. I moved to cut of its head for good measure, and only then, did I turn to smile at Nathaniel. He was standing not far away, bleeding from his legs, arm, and chest. "Thanks for the save," I told him. "It was quite dramatic."

"I tried shouting to tell you to get out of the way, but that's when it got you," he explained. He flexed his hands and then his arm, and I winced at the blood oozing. "One got me good. Cleon saved me, and I switched to covering. Yours was the last one."

"Of course it was." I looked at the corpses of those things and then turned to look at Cleon, Oghren, and Sigrun. Their eyes were as wide as mine. "So, what the fuck are these things and why are they here?"

There was no answer, and I had a bad feeling that this was far more complicated that we had even begun to imagine.

Chapter Text

Chapter 8) The Lost

Cleon POV

She feels guilty. She wishes she were with the others, but she cannot be. She is here with Dorothea, listening to a most… unusual proposition.

Dorothea is next in line to become the Divine, and what she wants is reforms. Change. Things to become better for everyone, not just non-magical humans. The very idea thrills her. But such things would make her enemies. In Orlais, that means Bards.

Dorothea remembered her, remembered her skills. Dorothea wants her to become a Bard again, but this time just for her. A 'Left Hand' to the official 'Right Hand', the Hero of Orlais, Cassandra Pentaghast.

She hesitates. Accepting would mean she is less likely to be able to help her friends, see her friends. Accepting would mean she would be back in the life she both enjoys and loathes. But accepting would also let her do so much good, just as her friends do.

"I… think that sounds like fun," she finally replies. Dorothea gives her a grateful, and warm, smile. "Shall we discuss a bit more?"

After an hour of poking and making notes over whatever those weird maggot things were, and another hour of making sure we weren't going to bleed out, we headed inside Kal'Hirol. The inside reminded me of the Dead Trenches, especially the area where we saw Hespith. The very sight made my stomach roll. Nuada also paled at the sight of the fleshy growths, and only signed 'Tower' when I asked, with a look that screamed he didn't want to talk about it, especially right then.

Thankfully, however, Oghren was around, and Oghren was good at reading our moods, and Oghren had no qualms making snarky comments. 'This place looks like Felsi's First Day stew,' he signed, shaking his head. The words made me smile slightly, not quite a laugh, but certainly soothing. ''The girl has her strengths, but cooking isn't one of them.' That had to be the first time he actually mentioned his wife. I was tempted to ask more, but decided against it. 'What's wrong, Nathaniel? Scuffed your pretty boots?'

'Oh, please,' Nathaniel scoffed. Nuada signed for him, and Sigrun watched the signs closely, following along. 'I've spent my time in taverns. This isn't the worst that's been splashed on them.' He shook his head. 'No, it's just that I think the wall just slimed me.' Nathaniel gave all of us dirty looks. 'What was this all about the glory of Wardens?'

'That's how Wardens sucker people into volunteering.'

'I volunteered knowing full well what was going on,' Nuada loftily declared, even as he led the way down some stairs. His signs were light and cheerful. 'Of course, I'm completely insane.'

'I figured that out before you said that,' Sigrun deadpanned. I could tell by her droll look. 'I mean; You guys volunteered to help me.'

Nuada might've replied, but we all paused as we realized there were transparent people on the staircase. I rolled my eyes and sighed when I realized I was looking at ghosts, again. They were unimpressive the first time, and they were doubly unimpressive now. At least, that's what I thought.

Sigrun, however, had very wide eyes as she stared. 'What is this?' she said. Oghren signed her words. 'This is…?'

'Is it unusual?' I asked. Nuada translated for me. ''We saw something similar in the Ortan Thaig, right before the giant spider tried to eat us. Oghren didn't react back then.'

'Really? I've never seen anything like this before.' Sigrun's eyes were wide, and a little reverent. 'They say memories in the Stone are preserved forever, though. Is this what they meant?'

'Could be. The Veil is thin, here. It's thin wherever there's a lot of death. It could be an echo.'

'So, magic, divinity, or… something else?' She forced a smile. 'My day just keeps getting better and better!' She shook her head. 'Onward into more weirdness!' She led the way down the stairs and we ended up in the ruins of a city. It reminded me of Dust Town in Orzammar, and I wondered if this had been its equivalent, back when Kal'Hirol thrived.

We wandered around, coughing from the dust, trying to ignore the stale smell of rot that permeated everything. At some point, we came across a platform where more ghosts were. The others continued on, but Nuada lingered, listening closely based on how his eyes had narrowed slightly and how he'd crossed his arms.

When the ghosts flickered away, I nudged his side to catch his attention and signed, 'Anything important?'

'Depends on your definition,' he signed back. He looked at the platform again. 'Seems like someone managed to rally the casteless to fight for Kal'Hirol, buying time for others to evacuate.'

'Why didn't the casteless evacuate?'

'I doubt anyone bothered to help them. The casteless are nothing to proper dwarves.'

'So, like the elves?'

'I think it is a bit worse, but that's me being a human, looking at everything from a different, lofty perspective.' Nuada looked right at me. 'But I do know that some people think negative attention is better than none at all.'

'Mmm, I can see that. Still, there are many times I wish the humans would just ignore the Dalish. It would mean quieter hunts, and less fires.'

'That is a good point.' Nuada's smile was bitter. 'I hope, one day, we can find a way to fix things.'

'I do as well.' But I knew why his smile was bitter. Only a child thought they could save everyone, and we were not children. We were young, and we worked miracles, but changing people's views would require some very radical change. Perhaps even violent, and I was not sure if I was ready for another war. 'We need to catch up.'

'So we do.' Nuada shrugged, unbothered. 'Well, let's see what horrors await.'

'Don't say that. Fen'harel might take it as a challenge.'

'You know; I don't know much about this Fen'harel you keep swearing at and by.'

'Really?' I was surprised I hadn't told them. 'Well, Fen'harel is…'

I ended up chatting a lot about the Elven Pantheon. Though it was partly because Nuada was an avid listener and eager to learn, I knew another part was because I was desperate for that sort of conversation. As much as I loved my friends, they were not Dalish. They could not talk of the old stories, of the forests. It was a bit lonely, sometimes. I missed the days I would just sprawl out in the grass and listen to Merrill babble about stories while the stars glittered overhead. I missed the days when Tamlen and I would joke and tease as we cleaned a recent kill. I missed the days when Lyna and I would curl up at Ashalle's feet, and listen to her gossip from the day as she wove.

I missed the Sabrae clan. I missed that home. But I also knew that I could never fully be 'home' there again. I had changed too much. I knew I was far more at 'home' with my friends here. But I couldn't help but miss it.

Just as I couldn't help but stare as we entered the 'Trade Quarter' of Kal'Hirol and came across darkspawn fighting each other. But there was no randomness to the fighting. They were organized. They were clearly two separate factions. It was a civil war. The darkspawn were having a civil war.

They were completely focused on each other, and so we slid along the edges of the battle, not wanting to deal with any of it. We moved into an out of the way section to wait out the battle, only to find a moldy mess of bones and armor, and the ghost of a dwarf being killed by the ghost of an ogre. When the ghosts faded away, we discovered an old tablet. All of us hesitated slightly, glancing at each other. We wanted to read, but...

'It's an old dialect, but I think I know enough to guess,' Oghren muttered. He knelt down and studying the writing closely. 'May the Stone remember the defenders of Kal'Hirol, born casteless but died warriors.'

'He… wanted them to be remembered as warriors,' Sigrun whispered. She looked incredibly touched, though not quite to the point of tears. 'Warrior Caste. Here are all their names.' There were two hundred names, and even with time wearing away the edges, they were legible, and you could see the respect in how even they were, how precise the writing was. 'We have to find some way… their names were lost, and they lost their lives, but now we can...'

'Think we got some paper.' Oghren glanced up, and Nathaniel pulled out a bunch from his pack. 'Let's make a copy then.' He smiled bitterly. 'Just like the golem registry.'

'I heard about that. Shortly before coming here, actually.'

'I suppose that's something we do,' I signed. I exchanged a look with Nuada, who smiled slightly. 'Give names to the lost.' Among other things.

We waited as Oghren made two copies, just in case, and then sent Nathaniel and Sigrun to scout the area. When they returned, we moved deeper within the thaig, wondering just what we would find. However, as we passed through an old smithing area, I noticed Oghren lingering back. The others noticed as well, but I waved them on, and stayed back with him.

'This anvil…' he eventually signed, moving over to one half hidden in the shadows. 'Must be pretty old.' He ran his fingers over the top, making pictures in the dust, before bringing his hands up again to sign. 'They make them differently these days. Branka once told me about it, but I'll be a nug's uncle if I remembered what it was. Probably something with efficiency. Crazy harpy.'

I watched him for a moment, noting the sadness weighing his shoulders. 'Are you all right?'

'Yeah.' He stepped back from the anvil, shaking his head. 'The damn thing just reminded me of her.'

'Oghren…'

'Cleon, I know she's gone. I know it. And damn if most days, I think it's better for her.' He looked up to the ceiling, eyes narrowed slightly. 'But some days, I… oh, sod it.'

'Ir abelas.' My hand shook. I still remembered. I remembered reaching for her, having her. I remembered her pulling back her hand and smiling, so warmly and brightly. I remembered the heavy 'splash' of her body hitting… whatever had been down there. The moment haunted my nightmares, just as Tamlen's death did. Just as the battles did.

'Not your fault.' His eyes told me who he blamed: himself. I wondered if this played a part in why he was here. 'Bah, look at me, whimpering like a box of wet kittens.' He rolled his shoulders, and grinned. 'Let's make some paste out of the darkspawn!' His grin faltered, though, and he turned towards something. 'That… was not a good sound.'

'Oh?' I, of course, couldn't hear anything, but I noticed the ground vibrating under us, and noticed some chips of stone trembling on the anvil. 'That… doesn't look good.'

Both of us shared and look and bolted down the path, hunting for our friends. I made sure to stay behind Oghren, relying on his ears to find everyone as we navigated the twists and turns of the thaig. We tripped over darkspawn corpses, and I nearly fell into a panic when I thought I saw Sigrun's body. Thankfully, it just turned out to be a different dwarf, wearing similar armor, who was half eaten. But as we ran, and saw all the signs of battle, all I could think was… was that I hadn't heard. I used to have such keen hearing; once, I would have heard the sounds of fighting, and been able to come to their aid. I would have known. But now, I didn't. I couldn't hear, and I didn't know, and wouldn't have known if Oghren hadn't heard something that made me pay attention to the vibrations.

Dread and fear pooled in my stomach as we slipped in some blood, racing down a long corridor. Dead maggot darkspawn lined the sides, showing that they'd been ambushed. And I hadn't known. They'd been fighting, and I hadn't known.

We burst into an open area, and I nearly had a heart attack when I saw some sort of darkspawn mage launching multiple fireballs at Nathaniel and Sigrun. I burst forward, and tackled the darkspawn before it could loose one more spell. It opened its mouth in a scream, and I nearly gagged at its rotting breath. But then I twisted, and used a trick Zevran taught me to slide my daggers into its neck and slice off its head. In anger, I kicked the body to the side, and blinked slowly when I realized I kicked it straight into a golem. A flaming golem. As if a normal one wasn't bad enough.

Nuada and Oghren were fighting it and, while Nuada seemed badly burned, his Reaver tricks meant he was stronger for it. So, instead, I knelt down by Nathaniel and Sigrun, pulling out bandages and poultices as I noted they were badly burned. Blistering, deep red areas, but thankfully no blackened parts. My hands shook as I tried to tend to them, and once again, I was flooded with guilt and terror. If Oghren hadn't heard, I wouldn't have known. They could've burned to death, and I wouldn't have…

A hand took my wrist and it took me a moment to realize it was Nathaniel. Slowly, he signed, and it took me a moment to realize what he was trying to say. 'We are okay.' He gave up after that one sentence and raided my pack for pen and paper, jotting down the rest of his message. 'Sigrun and I managed to blind the golem, so Nuada went after it. That darkspawn was down, and Sigrun and I were going to confirm the kill when it struck. We're okay.' He smiled and tapped that last sentence for emphasis.

I simply smiled and nodded. I had little doubts things had been in control. I had little doubts that they could've figured out a way out of the trouble, now that I was thinking. I just couldn't get over the fact that I had been blissfully unaware that they had been in trouble. It was different than learning what happened to the other group. I had been here, and yet…

I knew this would join my nightmares. The idea of what could have happened, while I was so near yet so far, would likely haunt me for a long, long while.

The ground trembled underneath us, and I turned to see Nuada and Oghren had taken down the golem and were running over. I knew Nuada was babbling out apologies, at least until Nathaniel bopped him on the head with his surprisingly intact bow. Then Oghren shooed both Nuada and I away, signs mentioning something about double checking the kills. I knew Oghren was more making sure Nuada and I didn't drown Nathaniel and Sigrun with apologies.

So, Nuada and I confirmed the kills, popping off the golem's head for good measure, and scouted a bit ahead, making sure there would be no ambushes.

'What happened?' I finally signed. I didn't want to know, and yet I do. 'I saw the battles.'

'We got attacked by those maggot things,' Nuada signed. His signs were crisp, even as his eyes darkened. I knew he'd also have nightmares of this. 'Not sure if they meant to or not, but they funneled us straight into those stupid things.'

'We get anything useful from the fight? Besides, don't be cocky, I mean.' My arrogance, Nuada's arrogance… it could've gotten Nathaniel and Sigrun killed.

'There is an Architect and a Mother, and they're apparently fighting.' Nuada shrugged. 'Also, we killed 'The Lost'.'

'They have names?'

'Seems so.' Nuada turned at something, and smiled. I nearly breathed a sigh of relief when I realized Oghren, Nathaniel, and Sigrun were joining us. 'All okay?'

'We're fine, as we have said twenty times,' Nathaniel replied. Oghren signed for him. 'Honestly, you two are worse than mother hens.'

'Just wait until Layla sees those injuries,' Nuada teased. I playfully shuddered as I thought of her reaction. 'Well, the way seems clear. Sigrun? You want to lead from here?'

'Sure, sounds good to me,' Sigrun replied with a little shrug. She stepped in front with her head held high. 'Time to see what's at the end of long corridor number two!'

Despite her cheer, we moved forward slowly, weapons at the ready. I paid close attention to movements in the shadows, twitching at each little thing I could see. Most of the time, it was just bits of rubble dribbling down from the ceiling. I knew the others jumped at every little sound, based on how they tensed and twisted at random points.

However, nothing caught us in the corridor, and nothing greeted us when we stepped out into a huge room. I was confused for a moment before realizing we were on a 'second floor' and that there was a pit in the center of the room. I crept over to the railing and was nearly sick when I saw what was there. Broodmothers, bunches of them. I wondered how many were actually members of Sigrun's group.

'So, that is a Broodmother.' The signs caught my eye, and it took me a second to realize that Nuada was next to me. It took me even longer to remember that he had never seen one before. 'Well, I now understand why Uncle Duncan always told Elspeth to run or kill herself if darkspawn caught her,' he continued, signs light to convey a false cheerfulness. 'We have to kill them.'

'Yes,' I agreed. I started looking for some way down. 'It will be a rough battle, especially with so many, but-'

Nuada waved to catch my attention. 'Lyrium well hanging conveniently above them.' Nuada pointed up for emphasis, and I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw he was right. 'What say we just drop it on them?'

'Nuada, I love you.'

It took the four of us a bit to figure out how to simultaneously release all the chains, make sure the container dropped straight down, and make sure that we were clear away from the area, just in case. Nathaniel and Sigrun spiritedly debated some sort of calculations, actually. But we figured it out, and it wasn't long before the Broodmothers were all dead thanks to exploding blue light. We even looked down afterwards to make sure, and all that was down there was a strange mix of blue and red, with some little bits of goop floating in the puddles.

'And that is that,' Sigrun commented, Nuada translating for her. 'We did it…' She suddenly fell on her butt, likely overwhelmed by what we accomplished. The rest of us leaned against the wall or rested our hands on our knees, trying to catch our breath as it all caught up with us at last. It had been a very long day. 'I… thank you.' She smiled at us. 'Seriously. If the rest were alive, I know they would honor you in some way.'

'Well, this is kind of our job,' I pointed out. One of the others translated for me; I didn't know who. 'So, now that we're not about to die, how are you?'

'Not sure.' Her smile turned a little sad. 'I often wished I could get away from the others. I only really liked a couple of them. But now that they're gone, I just wish I had them back. I wish Freya would throw beetles in my hair, or Baldur would sing bad poetry.' She shook her head. 'Silly, isn't it? I should be more concerned with how we're caught between two factions of darkspawn. Never heard of that before.'

'Neither have I,' Oghren added. He didn't look bothered, though. 'Then again, I'm used to being startled, thanks to these two and their habit of blazing new ground.' He gestured at Nuada and I, just to make sure the rest knew which two. Both of us rolled our eyes in return. 'Bleeding nug humpers, these darkspawn. You hear of fighting all the time, but nothing organized like this.'

'Just our luck, right?' Nathaniel joked. He managed a bit of a grin, before grimacing. 'Anyway, I think I found a side door out of here, so if we want to take it…'

'Probably should. I don't fancy hiking all the way back through. But when did you find it?'

'While I was waiting for you to reach the chains, of course.'

Oghren and Nathaniel fell into some lighthearted bickering, and Sigrun pushed herself to her feet, looking for all the world prepared to just leave. Nuada and I glanced at each other and nodded, silently on the same page. We had to at least ask.

'Sigrun,' he began, taking lead. He was, after all, the Warden-Constable. 'What do you say to joining us?'

'Go, with you?' she asked, both startled and skeptical. She crossed her arms, frowning. 'That would… go against my vow as a member of the Legion of the Dead.'

'I don't see how. You'll still fight the darkspawn, and you'll still die under a rock in the Deep Roads, likely. Wardens die in the Roads just like the Legion.'

'That… is true.' Her eyes lit up. 'I would be so much more effective!'

'Yep. Though, I will state that you're not allowed to die until the current conflict is resolved. We are tragically low on numbers.'

'I think I can agree to that.' She actually grinned. 'Well, all right. Hard to say no to something like that.' Her cheer still seemed a bit forced, and I wondered if she was coming with us because she didn't want to be alone, nor did she really want to return to the Legion's fort without everyone. 'Shall we depart, then?'

'Glad to have you, Sigrun.' Nuada offered his hand, and she took it for a firm shake. 'Glad to have you.'

Chapter Text

Interlude - Mother

The song is gone. The song, the song, the beautiful song… it is all gone, thanks to the Father, and now she twists and writhes, fully aware again. Memories of a girl who is both her and not her bombard her skull. A flower field. Gossiping gaggles of girls. Flirtatious men with soft smiles and softer hands. A ceremony. A night filled with passion. Little children. Then battle. Then darkness. Then bony, splintering hands gorging her, filling her as she bloated and twisted. Then the song. The blissful song that took everything away, except it's gone. It's gone, it's gone, and it's all his fault!

Just as it is his fault that Kal'Hirol is lost. That the Lost is lost. Lost, lost, lost, lost, lost…!

"Mother, be calm…" someone urges. A darkspawn, one of hers. She doesn't know his name, doesn't care.

"Calm…" she hisses instead. "Yes, once, I was calm…" Once, she did not care about anything. But now she did, and she was trapped in this hated body, a twisted amalgamation of the things done to her, with all the memories rattling in her skull. "Once, Mother listened to the beautiful call." 'Mother'. That's all she could remember being called, in her old life. 'Mama, Mother'. Shrieking screams as she was dragged away…. "Felt it wash over her and inside her... " She shuddered reaching out blindly as if she could catch it. "Then she was calm…" Her hands fell on nothing, just as always. "But now that calm is gone… the Father took it away…" Her voice turns to a growl. "Just as he took away Kal'Hirol!" She gasps and shudders. "My poor pets… the Father knew I'd send them…" She starts to laugh. "Yes, he knew… the Father feared them…!" Her cackles echo through the cavern she is forced to make her home. "Ka'Hirol is gone, but the Mother still has her tricks. Many, many tricks!"

"But what shall we do?" The darkspawn looks lost. Not as much as the Lost did, of course, but enough to make her smile. "What shall the Mother do?"

"Do! I will laugh!" Her laughter echoes more and more, grating on her ears like the sound of shattering glass. Once, her laugh had been charming, bell like, but her screams tore her throat and too many bony, splintered hands had choked her to make her submit. "And then… I will wait." Waiting is all she can do.

Waiting for the Father to come, and then she can end them both.

Chapter Text

Interlude - Utha

She likes them, the new Wardens. The Elven Commander and the Mage Arlessa. She wishes she had time to communicate with them. But finding paper and pen in the mines would've been difficult, and she doubts they knew the signs of a Silent Sister. She doubts Duncan ever had time to teach them.

Her heart keens as she remembers her old friend. Dead and left to rot among the darkspawn… it was an end he likely expected, given that he was a Warden, but he deserved a better death, in her eyes. She had hoped she could have talked to him, when he came down for his Calling, help him understand. Show him, in fact, what she and the Architect had done.

"Unfortunate." The Architect's voice draws her from her thoughts, and she turns to focus on it. They communicate well, for it is able to read her thoughts. It's useful, for when she is so angry that she cannot even sign. "It is lost to us now, the mines," it continues with a little sigh. "No point in trying to return."

She gives it a little glare, focusing on her annoyance. They had, after all, sunk a lot of time there.

"I know. Your former comrades are most impressive, Utha." It shakes its head. "It will be difficult to convince them."

Now, she focuses on her annoyance of its admission. 'Difficult', it thought? 'Difficult' was waiting for over twenty years for a promise, and no signs of an end yet.

"No, Utha. Do not fret. I will keep my promise to you." Its words are sincere, and she is reminded as to why she picked it in the first place. It made mistakes, but it always tried and never gave up. It wanted to end the Blights, just as she did. That, she knew, she could trust. "All is not lost yet." It turns to her and pats her shoulder reassuring, a gesture it had picked up from her. "But we might want to prepare for battle."

She looks up at it, studies its face, and nods slowly. Yes, she could see the wisdom in that. The Mother's forces were growing stronger, and these new Wardens were strong and skilled.

She hopes that they can at least see the reason in the two of them. She hopes that they will at least listen to them. It is crazy, but there is reason, and they have had some progress. Not enough, for her, but there is some.

She closes her eyes, and prays to the Ancestors… and then she prays to Duncan, in the hopes that maybe he could give them some sign from beyond. It's all she can do, now. Hope and pray that she did not make the wrong choice, that day long ago.

Chapter Text

Chapter 9) Courts and Conspiracies

Layla POV

She's going to be ill. There are too many people here, and she is certain she is going to be ill. Automatically, she hunts for Nuada, her twin, her protector. But he's not here. He's dealing with his duties, far in Vigil's Keep, and he has too much to worry about. She knows from the letters and reports she gets. Things are dangerous for their home, and she has to do her part. The last thing they need is another civil war. So, even though she's certain she'll be ill, she keeps the smile and speaks kindly.

Alistair seems to know she's faltering, though, as he sneakily grabs her hand and kisses her cheek. She blushes, unable to help it, and the group laughs. She first thinks they're mocking her, but the smiles are indulgent. Regardless of how many believe her family plotted a coup or something, they at least find them cute.

She could use that. And she would.

By the time we returned to Vigil's Keep, I had a horrible headache. All of us were exhausted, particularly Anders. It was not helped, of course, by all the people who greeted us when we returned, overwhelming all of us. Aiden managed to slip away to administer the Joining to Velanna. Anders also disappeared, either to pass out or to check the infirmary. I, sadly, spent the better part of an hour reading through missives I barely understood, wondering just why people thought I could handle things like rescuing hostages or dealing with shipwrecks. I decided that most could be used as training things for our militia, but I did not know. I truly did not. However, it all paled to what Anora told me when she insisted on us having tea.

"There is a conspiracy brewing against me?" I asked tiredly. If I had more energy, I might have been more annoyed or frustrated. As it was, it took a lot of effort to not simply faint in my seat. It was frustrating. I had fought through countless battles, yet an afternoon of paperwork exhausted me. Then again… oh, I no longer cared. "Somehow, I am not surprised."

"I worry that it gained ground because you left so soon after a disaster," Anora explained. She busied herself making tea for us both, in a surprisingly sunny room with soft curtains by the window. "People expect an active leader, but you must choose how you are active, I am afraid."

"Well, it would help if people actually gave me advice instead of hiding when I try to ask questions!" I could not help but snap, and worried she would retaliate. Instead, she simply remained calm, surprisingly so. I had been certain she would argue back. "But, instead, I…" Tears pricked my eyes, so I fell silent. I did not want to cry, not over something like this. I was just horribly tired, and I felt horribly lonely.

"I suppose in an effort to not overstep boundaries, I instead made things worse." She smiled apologetically, and I had to fight to keep from being surprised. I had not thought she… Ah, I had been discourteous. Once again, life reminded me that I did not know everything. "I promise, though, that it was in an attempt to help."

"Was it?"

"Yes. For one thing, I feel as if you must make your own mistakes if you are going to decide how you are going to rule. It's how I learned, at least. I am also…" Anora paused to offer me sugar for my tea. I shook my head. I normally did have sugar, but at the moment, I felt too nauseous. "Oh, let me be blunt. I am a strong person. There are many watching, ready to jump on any signs of me 'controlling' you."

"Why?" I groaned and facepalmed when the answer came easily. "No, I am sorry. It is obvious."

"I love my father, but his choices damned both him and me. Particularly here. The people of these lands will not forget so easily that my father let Howe rule them." She smiled sadly. "I do promise I am here to help you. Unfortunately, I… have to learn how to help. I am not in a position I thought I would be, same as you."

"…Yeah…" I sipped the tea and found myself relaxing. When I had seen her before, I had been… I had been biased. But I could see, just a little, why Nuada still liked her. Of course, she could probably be manipulating me, but… "Why did Nuada not tell me, though? Why did he not warn me about a conspiracy or that I might…?"

"You mean the same Nuada who frequently forgets that not everyone knows everything?" She said the words so dryly that I could not help but laugh. "The same Nuada who is absolutely in love with you and, as a result, is terrified he'll accidentally teach you his bad habits? The same Nuada who once showed up to a tournament with a broken leg that was badly braced because it was his duty to attend?"

"He did not!" But I knew she had to be telling the truth. That was how he was. "He could just say that to me, instead of… I do not know…"

"Running away and being bad at explaining himself?" Anora finally sat down and smiled wryly. "He's been that way for a while, by the way. As long as I've known him. It wasn't until he met you all that he began changing. But you still do need to yell at him."

"I suppose…" I picked up my tea, but found it too hot still, so I simply held it. "Though, to be fair, things tend to be horribly weird with us, so I felt obligated to look into it personally. However, I suppose I should have left it to Aiden alone." It was not as if my presence made any particular difference. I simply helped Aiden, and he could have handled it alone. All of us… we probably needed to become used to 'doing things alone'. Though, the thought made me sad. We might have split up to cover different tasks, but we had still been grouped together. "Still, it was weird. We had been right about that."

"Was it?"

"Yes, it was extremely unusual."

"In that case, it might be a good idea to let tiny details. Nothing confidential, but things to help explain the circumstances. That way, it will be easier for Varel to put a positive spin to your leaving so soon. He's here to help you too, though he will defer to you, and will follow the law."

"I see." I tentatively sipped the tea and nearly scalded my tongue. I wished it would cool faster. "Oh, what was the second thing? You said 'for one thing' earlier."

"Oh, that?" Anora shrugged. "I honestly thought you would have far more time to flail about and find your way on your own. You are a hero, a military leader, and according to eyewitness reports, you completely demolished over a hundred darkspawn on your own. I am frankly startled by the lack of self-preservation these conspirators show, conspiring against you."

"…Well, when you put it that way…" I had to giggle and she smiled slightly. "I imagine that also played a role in why Nuada did not say anything."

"I imagine so as well. Clearly, he and I expected them to be smarter than they are."

"Do you have suggestions for… fixing things? Is that the proper word?"

"Not quite. Regardless of the conspiracy, things are not broken yet. You might get a little revolt, but nothing too big. You might want to been seen doing more administrative tasks." She snapped her fingers and leaned forward. "Ah, of course. You can hold court."

"You want me to hold a ball?" I frowned. "Given how things are…"

"No, no, wrong 'court'. Judgment court. There are a few cases now that can be brought to your attention."

"Is that so?" I hesitated before nodding. Ruling Amaranthine would be very different than leading an army. It made sense, but I needed to remember that. "Please, then, can you tell me about them? I never attended a court before."

"Certainly." She actually smiled warmly. "Now, should we start at the beginning or...?"

"Please."

"Of course."

"You have very lovely hair, Layla," Anora commented, pinning my hair up in front of a vanity. It was the day after our return to the Keep, and I was holding the 'court' as she had suggested. I tried to focus on that task, and not on Velanna. She had survived her Joining, but took longer to recover than typical. Anders and I had determined it was due to the frankly awful way she had been taking care of herself. She was horribly underweight, among other things. "I can see why Nuada compliments it a lot."

"He does?" I asked, curious. I did not remember him paying particularly close attention to my hair. "Wait, you two talk about me?"

"Of course. I do like teasing him." She finished pinning my hair, and tucked a lily behind my ear, securing it with even more pins. "He gets adorably flustered, and it is a means for us to get to know each other again. He learns to trust me again, and I learn the new him."

"You tease him mostly for the former, though."

"Of course." She laughed again, but this time, it sounded a bit mirthless. "Ah, you are easy to talk to. I overthought it."

"You are much easier to talk to than I thought as well. I thought you would be…" I trailed off, realizing how insulting that sentence was about to be. "Um…"

"You can say 'bitch'. It would not be the first time I have been called that, nor will it be the last." Anora, however, smiled. It was a tired and bitter smile, but one nonetheless. "I was convinced only my father and I really knew how to protect to Fereldan or, at least, the only ones willing to do what it takes. I was proven wrong."

"I am glad you admit that."

"Well, I have to. You all saved Fereldan, though I wish…" She focused on the pins, frowning over them. "I liked being queen. I liked having that power. I do still wish I could have ruled in my own right. But I am also aware that things could be worse. My father is alive and my home is safe. Gwaren is in safe hands and… well, even though I still think Alistair isn't up to the task of being king, I know Elspeth is."

"He is studying."

"True. I think he's determined to prove me wrong. I still win if he does, though." She nodded in satisfaction and stepped back. "There. You are dressed to impress. We will have to scout you a good maid once things settle down to help you with this."

I chose against pointing out that I really did not want a maid, mostly because I had a feeling the response would be something like 'as the Arlessa, you will need one'. So, instead, I smiled and left my room with her. When we made it to the main room, she went to sit in the audience and Seneschal Varel led me to the 'throne'.

"I am afraid this will take most of the morning, my lady," he explained to me quietly. "I will announce the cases and advise you as you need or wish." He helped me sit down in the throne so that my skirts were settled neatly around me. "Are you prepared? If you truly wish, I can simply hold the court for you."

"You have been doing quite a bit of my job for me, Seneschal," I whispered, smiling bitterly. I was nervous, especially since Anora was the only person I knew in the crowd, but I would not let it show. "I should try it, for once."

"There are many ways to do your duty, Warden-Arlessa Amell. I am content to do what I need while you decide what way best suits you." He smiled reassuringly before turning serious and facing the crowd. "We shall begin the court with the matter of the Crown against the shepherd, Alec." The guards nudged a man probably in his late twenties, at most, before me. "Alec stole two bushels of grain bound for the garrison in Amaranthine. When confronted, he confessed." The punishment for stealing from the crown is death by hanging." My instinctual response was how that seemed a little harsh, but I managed to bite my tongue in time. "Alec, what say you?"

"My sheep were slaughtered by the darkspawn," he explained softly, speaking more to the ground than at me. His clothes hung loosely on him, as if he lost a great amount of weight recently. He flinched at every sound, aware of the odds stacked against him. "My family was starving. I ask for understanding in this."

"What would his punishment be if he had not stolen from the crown?" I asked Seneschal Varel softly. It really did sound more than a little harsh to hang him.

"A flogging, at worst, my lady," Seneschal Varel answered easily, just as softly. "But stealing from the crown is considered a betrayal of oaths, my lady."

"I thought no formal oaths were sworn by freeholders." At the least, I remembered Aiden telling me that, long ago.

"At the same time, we are all sworn to obey the king, even in Fereldan where the kings are chosen by the Landsmeet, because we are Fereldans. The absence of actual oaths is why he would not face so harsh a punishment otherwise."

"I understand." I fell silent, thinking. Honestly, my very first thought was to dismiss the charge, but I knew that would be a bad idea. Death was out of the question, and flogging… I could do that, but even that felt wrong and it would not solve the problem. He and his family would still be starving, so what was a way to fix that? After a moment, a single idea came to me. "What about the army?" The more I thought about it, the more certain I became. "We lost many soldiers due to the Blight, and we lost many guards during the ambush. What if Alec instead serves in the army?" I looked to Seneschal Varel. "I would like it if he could feed his family, but perhaps he should have a reduced pay, since this is a punishment?"

"I can work out the details," Seneschal Varel promised. He smiled slightly and nodded. "Very well, the matter is settled." Alec's face lit up with a smile, and he bowed deeply before being shown outside. "Next is a serious matter. Danella, a soldier of the Vigil, abandoned her post and was caught three leagues away." Seneschal Varel gestured, and an angry looking woman stepped up. In her anger, though, I saw some very real fear. "Even if we were not in a state of emergency, the penalty for desertion is death. I doubt I need to explain why."

"The breaking of oaths is a serious matter."

"It is indeed. Danella, you may speak your peace."

"I am no coward who fled," she immediately snapped. The crowd murmured uneasily, but I kept calm. Considering everything, if this did somehow turn violent, I was fairly certain I could handle her. "I asked the old captain several times to release me from my oath. The darkspawn are too near my family's farm! Am I supposed to abandon them to those monsters?"

"I understand wishing to protect one's family, but why do you act as if you alone have family under threat? I am certain there were many who stayed who feared the same," Seneschal Varel easily countered. She flinched and deflated, and he used the opportunity to whisper to me. "The soldiers are afire over this one. Danella is an accomplished scout and well liked. But desertion could destroy the army."

"We need a balance, then," I murmured. This one was not one I could 'solve' the problem with. The problem was ongoing, and would continue to be ongoing for a while. So, for this, I needed to lessen the punishment, but still keep one. There had to be a consequence. "I do believe the motive should mitigate the crime. I know long-term imprisonment is looked down upon, but in this case, I believe it is a good compromise." At least, I remembered Aiden mentioning that to me once, long ago. I hoped I was correct. "You abandoning your post no doubt left weak points in our defenses. You broke your oath. But you did so because of the unspoken oaths you have to protect your family. I can understand that, so, instead of execution, you will be imprisoned for a year."

She bowed to me, apparently accepting that, and was led off by guards, a couple of which patted her back reassuringly. I did not have the luxury of watching, though, as Seneschal Varel called for the next one. On and on, the judgments went. Most were thankfully simple, but others were complex. I did my best, but could tell I made some enemies. Still, Seneschal Varel seemed to approve of what I decided, and Anora caught my eye to give me small and reassuring smiles. That kept me going until the end, but once it was all over, I retired to a back room and flopped into a chair, completely drained. Anders, surprisingly, met me with a glass of water, with timing so perfect, I knew he had to have been watching. I wondered from where; I had not seen him.

"You looked amazing up there," he complimented. His smile, however, was sad. "You looked very far away, though."

"I am right here, as always," I pointed out, downing the water in one gulp. Sitting up there did make things clear. I would be very busy as Arlessa, and would not be traveling as much as a 'Warden'. That made me sad, but part of me found it funny. I used to hate traveling about, and being outside. Now, when I would likely stay in one place, I was irritated. "I am also still the girl who accidentally made your hair stand straight up because of a lightning spell."

"Took forever to get it down." He grinned a bit, but it quickly faded. "Still, it was amazing. A mage in power. A good mage in power, instead of the scary stories of magisters. It's a shame that others aren't given the same chances."

"They are more than welcome to suffer through a Blight to get the chance, Anders."

"They shouldn't have to suffer at all. Not for something like that."

"I would not have gotten it if not for… oh, forget it." I was not up for a philosophical discussion right now. "It is what it is."

"But it shouldn't. No one else is locked up for simply who they are."

"There is this thing called 'Alienages', Anders, where elves are treated as second-class citizens, at best, and are essentially locked up since they are not allowed to live anywhere else. You may talk to Aiden about it." I sighed and absently wondered how Shianni was doing. "At least in the Circle, we had guaranteed meals, and were taught how to read and write."

"Oh, sure and-"

"Anders." I made my voice as firm as possible. "I am exhausted, and this is an argument we have had in the past. I liked the Circle, remember? It kept me safe when…" I almost said 'my father', but I knew that was not true. Again, I wondered who my real-birth-father was. Who did my mother have an affair with? "Please."

"I… of course." He smiled sadly. "I shouldn't have gone off like that. You have too much to deal with as is."

"For all your talk of running away, Anders, you have always been the angriest at the Circle." I thought it was because he dealt with not only his anger and fear, but the anger and fear of those around him. Empathy was no gift, even if it was useful. "But, you have also always been the kindest of us. I know you hate fighting."

"Is it 'hate' or just really not liking all the emotions people feel when they die?" He laughed like it was a joke, but I could only look at him sadly. "Oh, come on. Morbid jokes are still jokes."

"I am too tired to humor you." Still, I did my best to smile for him. "I am not saying you are wrong, Anders. I just…"

"You have too much going on. I understand." He came over to hug me and I hugged him back. "You know what? We should gorge ourselves on sweets. I'm hungry anyway."

"That does sound lovely." On cue, my stomach growled. "Er…"

"Sweets time~" He helped me up with a snicker, one that got louder when I scowled. "Let's find the most expensive ones."

"No, let us not. I might need that money."

"They're already there." He sighed. "Oh, fine. We'll find something cheaper."

"Thank you."

Nuada, Cleon, Oghren, and Nathaniel returned early the next day, alongside a new recruit: a cheerful girl named Sigrun. I was startled by how horribly injured they all were, and Anders and I worked through most of the morning tending to… most of them. Nuada disappeared before Anders and I could get him, which annoyed me severely. But we tended to the others, got Sigrun through her Joining safely, and then went to find him, ready to scold him.

"How do you forget to get your injuries looked at?" I demanded, tending to his injuries. I had finally cornered him in our room, finding him in the middle of changing and working on some paperwork. "You are in love with a healer, in case you have forgotten!"

"Now, how can I forget being in love with the most beautiful and skilled healer I have ever seen?" he replied easily, with a grin. I scowled up at him, but his grin did not waver. "But I went numb from exhaustion a while ago, so I did, in fact, forget."

"You forgot something tried to eat you?" I dabbed antiseptic on the bite wound on his neck. It was a miracle he had not bled out. "Nuada…!"

"I didn't forget that. I just… forgot to get a checkup, because normally, you've already done it?" He winced a bit from pain. "Are you mad that something else has been biting my neck? I assure you that it wasn't a consensual thing."

"Nuada!" Still, I softened a bit, looking sadly at his injuries, each one a testament at how close he had been to death. I wished he would let me simply heal him with magic, but he specifically asked for the minimal. "No, I am not mad. I am annoyed you forgot to get looked at. I am also annoyed that we foolishly did not send a healer with your group."

"Yeah, I think arrogance nearly cost us again." His hand came up to the scar on his face, the one that resulted in his blinded eye. "You would think we'd know better by now."

"You really would think so."

"Safe to come in?" Aiden suddenly opened the door without knocking, holding it open for Cleon. "Oh, good, you're both dressed," he half-joked, shutting the door behind them. Cleon sprawled out on the floor next to where Nuada and I sat, so he just plopped down onto the floor too. "So, shall we share information?"

'Well, there is a civil war among the darkspawn,' Cleon signed. He twisted to rest his head on Aiden's leg and closed his eyes briefly. 'Also, Nuada and I are both idiots.'

"I think all of us are, given that Layla and I also got ambushed." Aiden sighed and pointed to Nuada's injuries. "No magic?"

"Nuada requested it," I answered. Nuada's half-smile all but screamed 'please do not inquire further', so I made sure to keep the subject serious. Since I was working on his injuries, Nuada signed for me. "Still, you saw darkspawn in a civil war? I wonder if that talking darkspawn we saw was one of the leaders."

"Now that is certainly a thought," Aiden murmured. Cleon poked him, a silent plea to elaborate. "We met another talking darkspawn, who apparently leads other darkspawn clever enough to frame people. And has a Warden helping him. Former Warden. Whichever. Also, escaping from a darkspawn infested but otherwise abandoned mine was way harder than escaping a high security prison."

"That one we had a lot of extra advantages, and a refuge in audacity," Nuada instantly pointed out. Cleon and I shared an exasperated look. The two never did explain just how they got out. They simply had, and Aiden completely blamed Nuada for it. "You clearly dealt with competent leadership. Howe was technically in charge of the place."

"Point made." Aiden smiled wryly before growing serious. "Still, a civil war… is that what caused all your injuries?"

"No, part of it was a flaming golem, which suck by the way, and the rest were these new things that not even Oghren knew. They're creepy maggot things, and we are calling them 'the Children' for now, based on something a dying Legion member told us. That's what bit me." Nuada gestured at his neck for emphasis. I wondered where 'the Mother' was, if we were fighting 'the Children'. "They eat darkspawn and heal their injuries. They are creepy and gross, almost as bad as a broodmother."

'By the way, there were broodmothers again,' Cleon signed. Aiden shuddered, and I grimaced. I had not seen one yet, but the descriptions were enough to make me certain I never wanted to. 'Also I will apologize later for not warning you two about the possible Dalish conflict in the woods. That literally slipped my mind, and you might have been slightly more prepared for Velanna. Might.'

"She's very admiring of you, by the way," I told Cleon. Cleon frowned a little and I giggled. "She warmed right up to us when we mentioned you."

'Weird. She normally stayed away from me. Got along rather well with Merril, though.' As always, Cleon smiled slightly at this Merril. I wanted to ask, but I knew better. It was as off limits as the topic of Morrigan for now. 'Well, she is a talent mage, for all that she has the social graces of a particularly catty cat.'

"Any tips?"

'Be honest, and be careful about compliments. She is prickly and her temper flares at unexpected moments. But feel free to call her out. She will accept it with comparative grace.' Cleon snapped his fingers and poked Aiden's stomach. 'You. Something is bothering you.'

"…Let me gather my thoughts a bit more on it," Aiden replied. His slight smile proved he had tried to hide it, but he was also glad we saw through the façade. "I'll talk later."

"You sure?" Nuada asked, frowning worriedly. However, he nodded when Aiden did. "Very well. Oh, Sigrun is a chipper Legion of the Dead member, by the way. She's an absolute delight, but I worry she'll be reckless on account of the whole 'death seeker' thing."

"We'll focus on at least letting her enjoy the life she has. Perhaps we can encourage her to at least wait for her Calling. We really do need more Wardens."

"Has there been anything from the other countries?"

"No, not yet. I might need to send another missive. It might've gotten lost. Then again, it's only been…" Aiden paused and then shrugged, throwing his hands up in the air before bringing them down again to sign. "I have no idea. Time never seems to flow right when we're in the middle of something."

"That's true." Nuada laughed, and before long, the rest of us joined in. "So, I think those are all the basics. Anything else we need to know?"

"Well, there is apparently a conspiracy against me," I commented innocently. I laughed when Nuada and Cleon gave me the most incredulous looks. Aiden did not, which told me someone else had told him earlier. "Nuada, you could have warned me, by the way."

"I didn't think they were that stupid!" Nuada protested. Still, he did take my hand and kiss it, a silent apology. I accepted it with a smile, and started bandaging him up. "Okay, so, who would be involved? I can think of…" Nuada paused suddenly, frowning. At first, I thought he was thinking, but he slowly became more and more annoyed. "What's the number between 'two' and 'four' again?"

"Three?" Aiden answered, voice going a bit high from disbelief. He then started laughing and Cleon hid a smile. "You forgot the number three?"

"I could remember the word in Orlesian, Nervarran, Tevene, and a couple of others. Do you know how many words I know?" Nuada scowled, and it deepened when I began giggling too. "It's like the whole switching language things! I forget words, substitute, and it goes from there!"

"You forgot three, though!"

"Regardless…!" He still scowled, though he softened when I kissed his cheek. "I can think of three, maybe. We don't really have a spy network, though. I could ask Elspeth or Fergus, but that'll take a while."

"Actually, I asked Seneschal Varel about what Layla could do, since she was busy, and learned of a 'Dark Wolf' who…" Aiden trailed off as Cleon suddenly rolled onto his side, shaking from silent laughter. "Uh… Cleon?" Cleon brought up his hand to sign, but he shook his head and made a 'one moment' gesture.

Eventually, he calmed down to sign, 'Dark Wolves is the collective name for Morrigan, Zevran, Elspeth, and me, thanks to us pulling a few heists while you and Nuada were saving Anora.'

"So, this is someone capitalizing on… yeah, okay, this is going to be great." Aiden grinned. "So, I want to visit Amaranthine anyway, since Seneschal Varel mentioned a Warden might still be there. How about I go check that out for you, Layla, while you work a bit here?"

"That sounds good," I replied. I finished bandaging and shifted so that I could rest my head on Nuada's shoulder. I also brought up my hands to sign my own words. "I… ah… might have a lot to do here?"

"To be fair, there's a lot for most of us to do here," Nuada reassured. He kissed my temple before focusing on Aiden and Cleon again. "It might've been a bad idea to head out, even if it helped us and got us some information. I'm horribly behind on paperwork for Gwaren, and Wardens."

"Oh, shit, I might be behind on things then," Aiden groaned. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Well, I am committed to Amaranthine for now."

"I could-"

"If you take one more bit of work, Nuada, I swear to everything holy…"

'Then let me take it,' Cleon offered easily. He even smiled. 'I have the same authority as you, technically speaking, and no official things. Let me take some of the burden, at least with the Warden stuff.'

"That would be a big help," Nuada admitted. The two shared a knowing look, hinting they had actually talked a bit about this. "I'll still handle the budgeting, though."

'I can do math, you know.'

"It's not the math. It's the 'making sure costs match up' part of budgeting. A common way for people to steal money is by inflating the prices of things."

'Never mind.' Cleon sighed gustily and the rest of us snickered. 'You know…' His signs became light and, with his expression, they became very thoughtful. 'We are really bad at this 'rebuilding' thing, aren't we?'

"To be fair, we used to be bad at the whole 'fighting the Blight' thing," Aiden immediately pointed out. He sighed, but smiled. "But yeah. We're bad at this. Doesn't help that we've got unusual things on top of it."

'No, it seems that Fen'harel is very intent on playing tricks on us.'

"We'll make it, though," Nuada whispered. All of us gave him skeptical looks and he scowled. "What? I'm allowed to be optimistic sometimes, you know?"

"It is a strange thing to hear, that is all," I replied innocently, looking up at him. He rolled his eyes and leaned down to kiss me. "I am still cross with you, by the way, for not warning me. It is not that much, but I am."

"I know. I deserve it. I'll work on making it up to you."

"Will you, now?"

Something occurred then, but I was not sure what. All I knew what that there was a sort commotion and I turned to see that Aiden was grinning and had rolled an equally amused Cleon off his lap, for some reason. Nuada did not say a word; he simply laughed, even when I tried to figure out just what happened.

They never did tell me, but I did not mind so much. Things like this could be fun, after all.

Chapter Text

Chapter 10) Repair

Aiden POV

She's not sure what's weirder. Valendrian being an actual Bann? Being able to see Neria (almost) any time she wanted? The new king having three elves as advisors? Seeing children, both shem and elf alike, in the streets emulating Aiden? Her cousin, her precious cousin, always her hero, now being a hero to everyone? The Commander of the Grey, demanding respect from everyone? All of that's weird. But the weirdest thing is probably her ability to just waltz into the castle.

"Valendrian, I've snacks for you," she declares, sweeping into the room. King Alistair is working on rebuilding the Alienage, stronger and studier than before, so until then, Valendrian has a permanent room in the castle. "Alarith insisted I bring them."

"Did he now, Shianni?" Valendrian replies. He's reading over a piece of paper, but smiles at her. "And were you all right, making the journey?"

"I was." Valendrian is one of the few people in the world to know what truly happened to her. She squirms and flinches when near shem, particularly noble males, but no longer falls into terrifying panics. She still feels like she wants to rip off her skin, in the hopes that it will also rip away the memory, but at least she can walk around normally. "I'm doing okay."

"I'm glad. I'll need you to take over as hahren, in time."

"Huh?" She frowns, but Valendrian only continues to smile. "Hey, explain!" He doesn't, of course. He continues working, because even with all the good, there are still uprisings and riots against the elves receiving more rights and protections.

She's not sure what's weirder. But she is sure that the future will be even weirder.

I had done many stupid things in the past. Many. Walking into Amaranthine with only a single person for backup (Sigrun), with only one weapon (Fang, Mother's dagger) and no armor? That might be one of the stupidest things I have ever done. I'd opted for that to not stand out as much, since armor always caught attention. Particularly an elf in armor. But walking through the market, ruled by a Bann that we were more or less certain didn't like us made me long for my armor.

Of course, it was Sigrun who started the first bit of commotion. But it wasn't her fault. A passing dwarf had bumped into her and… well…

"Oh, sorry about that!" she yelped, turning to face us. She had a smile, but it dropped for shock. "Sigrun?" Sigrun, for her part, just stared, also in shock. She didn't even react to me helping her stay steady. "Why you… you ungrateful, backstabbing duster!"

"That's a bit rude," I replied automatically. A couple of people glanced at us, but saw the two very short people and the one with pointy ears and completely ignored us. "Who are you?"

"Name's Mischa. I was a merchant until she ruined me." She spat out the words, glaring at Sigrun. Sigrun squirmed uncomfortably. "I had her running errands. Trying to keep one duster out of trouble. Thought I was helping, not setting myself up."

"Seeting yourself up?"

"House Bemot… Bemots… whatever. They lost a gold statuette of their Paragon. Expensive, priceless thing." She scoffed. "And guess what showed up the next day in my shop? Because of her!"

"I… I tried to say no!" Sigrun's voice shook as she tried to explain. "Beraht said he'd kill you if I refused!" she continued quickly. There was some fear in her face, and I recognized it as 'old' fear. Beraht, whoever it was, wasn't something she thought fondly of. To put it mildly. "He needed to get rid of it and picked me and…!"

"House Bemot could have had me executed!" Mischa countered. "You could've spoken up, told them the truth!" The raw anger there proved what this Mischa was more angered by. It wasn't that Sigrun hid it in her shop. It's that she hadn't spoken up.

"And then Beraht would've killed me! Assuming they even would listen to a casteless!"

"Bah!" She threw up her hands, barely holding onto a package. "I don't have time for this. I have to deliver these skins to the tanner. Need to make a living somehow. Out of my way."

She stormed off, disappearing into the crowd. Sigrun almost went after her, but she stayed put instead and then looked up at me with a strained smile. "Wow, here I am at the surface, and still run into someone I knew," she joked. "What a small place Thedas is."

"It can be pretty amusing, sometimes," I replied. I squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. "Do you want to try and talk to her again?"

"Maybe later. Though, it's all in the past." She sighed. "And we've work."

"Information takes time." Still, I caught her slightly pleading look. "The place where Seneschal Varel said the Dark Wolf would be is near. Let's go."

Sigrun stuck close to me as we navigated the market and stepped into an alleyway. Sigrun's hands fell to her dagger and I pretended to be relaxed, ready to strike if the need came. I didn't see anything, good or bad, but that didn't mean much. I paid more attention to Sigrun, knowing her hearing was better than mine, and after a moment, she looked up, clearly catching something. A second later, a shadowy figure dropped down from the roof.

"Ah, so it's the Warden Commander who comes to me?" they asked. They were careful to conceal themselves, from their face to their clothes, but they did bow politely. "It's an honor to meet you. I am the Dark Wolf."

"Seneschal Varel mentioned you sent a letter, offering assistance," I replied, nodding back. "Of course, I was expecting someone else. I know who the 'original' Dark Wolf is."

"Somehow, I am not surprised the original ones were your companions. But, I doubt they can keep up the role. After all, the Heroes of the Blight are very busy, no?" They kept their tone respectful, even as it lightened. "So, some others and myself decided to build on that legacy. Rather like the Friends of Red Jenny."

"So long as you keep to the moral side of things. Well, as moral as shadows go." Red Jenny… I'd heard a bit about them. Some sort of network that helped get revenge on those who preyed on the 'lower folk'. I always avoided them, though. They were incredibly random in their methods. "So, why did you send the letter to Vigil's Keep?"

"There's murmurs of nobles that want our new arlessa dead. I'd like to assist." They shrugged. "Seems simple enough."

"I won't say 'no', but I am curious as to why." I smiled slightly, and glanced down at Sigrun. She kept silent and kept a close eye on the person and our surroundings. I'd leave it to her. "Pretty rare to simply have help offered."

"Well, I have hopes that she will prove more fit to rule this land that the last one." They shrugged and I had to smile. "And since his confederates are the most likely conspirators…"

"What do you need from me, then?"

"Bit of coin, nothing more. We all have to make a living, and coin is cleaner than weapons."

"I see." I looked into my coinpurse, glad Lord Nuada insisted on me carrying a bunch of money. Information was always costly. "How much?"

We settled on a price and decided to wander about a bit before going to the inn where supposedly the Warden Kristoff had been. Mostly to put more people there and to not stand out as much, though it was also to catch some gossip. After all, gossip was simultaneously the best and worse source of information. Let me know, at least, what was going on outside of Amaranthine.

Most bits were only tangentially useful or interesting. One, however, hurt my heart. Apparently, Edgewall's alienage had its walls destroyed due to darkspawn and there was no move to rebuild it. At first, I wondered why, but then remembered hearing at how Edgewall's alienage was actually outside the city, instead of being a separate district within like most. So, it made sense there had been no repairs. No one cared if only elves were in danger. If it were humans, then it would've been repaired at once.

The thought made me sad and frustrated and I had to remind myself that some changes had to be slow, particularly given how many changes Alistair wanted to make. I already knew there were fast changes as well. My home was being repaired, for instance, and even made better. Fergus had expanded the Alienage in Highever to give everyone more room. Reparations, guaranteed food… things like that. But it still hurt my heart.

"You look like you found yourself on the wrong side of a bronto," Sigrun joked. I frowned at her, wondering just what a 'bronto' was. Besides, clearly, something I didn't want to be on the wrong side of. "What's up?"

"It's nothing really," I explained. I looked around the market and kept a good grip on my coinpurse. I saw a couple of pickpockets scurrying about. "I was just caught up in my thoughts."

"About what?"

"Just… the elves and how we're treated." I smiled sadly at her. "That's all."

"I heard that surfacers don't treat elves as equals. Well, nonhumans in general, but especially elves."

"It's true. To the point that if there is a crime against us, they take their sweet time investigating." My mother's murder took months for them to even start investigating. We of the Alienage knew what happened before the 'official' word. "Even the best paid elf is nothing more than a servant, and often times, they're the victims of abuse and assault." I'd been lucky, but I knew others weren't. "Often, we're considered little better than pets. Fetishized for our 'elven' features." Zevran told me how the Crows purposely picked out elves for assassin, just for that purpose.

"Sounds tiring."

"Extremely. Then there are those who think us incapable, naïve, and in desperate need of hand-holding." The Couslands had been like that. I'd made myself not think on it, because they didn't beat us, but it was frustrating being considered little more than a child. "Of course, when you're used to being treated like dirt, you forget you can even stand up." Worse was the ones like me, who knew, but swallowed my anger. Never processing my own hurt and frustration properly, forcing myself to be like 'not all shem' and setting myself up for pain. In retrospect, I wondered if that was why I'd reacted so badly with Vaughan. Of course, I didn't regret killing him, but… "Though, Fereldan doesn't normally have trouble with purges and 'rabbit hunts'. That I know of, at least."

"Rabbit?"

"Rabbit is an insult some use against us, because our ears are pointy, like an animal's."

"Oh, maybe that was the other reason why Velanna snapped at me." Sigrun coughed, looking a little embarrassed. "You'd think I'd think about that, considering how castleless are treated."

"Velanna snapped at you? Who would've thought."

"She's a grumpy sort of person. But apparently she's self-conscious about how large her ears are." She sighed, grumbling a bit. "But seriously, why didn't I even think about that? Casteless are considered to be no better than animals too, and absolutely worthless."

"Probably the same reason I never thought much of the word 'casteless' until I walked into Dust Town on accident?"

"Point." She snickered. "Though, I will admit, my question was more of 'what is a rabbit' than an explanation of why you'd be called that."

"Oh, oops." I hadn't even considered that. Ah, there were still so many things to learn. "There's… oh, none on sale. I'll describe it later."

"Sounds good!" She laughed, but her expression soon turned seriously. I stepped closer to her as the crowd tried to push us apart. "All that reminds me of life as a casteless. You saw it, right? When you were in Orzammar? Dust Town, home sweet home." She kicked a rock and watched it skip across the road. "The crumbling ruin of an old castle, forever in the shadow of the rich and powerful. The one alienage I saw looked nice in comparison."

"Depends on the alienage. And the local lord."

"True." She kicked another rock. This one rolled into a person, so we quickly ducked behind some strangers to not be seen. "Still, it was awful, I guess. No rights. Not even people, really. No education, no training… not a lot of options. And you're branded to make sure of it." She pointed to the tattoo on her face for emphasis. "You had Carta, begging, street sweeping, and other jobs too dangerous and menial for 'proper' dwarves. Well, unless you decided to try noble hunting, but that was mostly girls."

"Why is that?"

"Well, males in society are encouraged to be promiscuous, while females of noble caste have to 'protect their honor' or something stupid. But in Orzammar, a child inherits the caste of their same-sex parent. So, if a noble hunting woman bore a son to a noble, the son is noble and the woman's life is set." She shrugged. "Rica Brosca is one, though supposedly, Bhelen's got real feelings for her. Talks of him marrying her."

"I met her sister, I believe."

"Natia?" Sigrun smiled slightly. "She was always a demon with a blade. She's as pretty as her sister, and Beraht, the old leader, wanted to make her a noble hunter too. Then decided she was far better as an enforcer."

"She leads the Carta now."

"Good on her! She won't blackmail casteless. Nobles, maybe." She said the words lightly, but there was a bitterness in her eyes. She hated Beraht, even now. "She keeps her word too. Careful about giving it to keep it that way."

"Bhelen supposedly is going to change things." That all reminded me, though. Natia had promised help from the Carta. I needed to check and see if that was just 'during the Blight' or a continued thing. I could use the opportunity to check in on Zerlinda as well. "That's good."

"Oh, yeah. You guys put him on the throne. Kardol liked it." She hummed a bit in thought, and I tried to not shudder at the memory of that hectic journey. So many things haunted my nightmares. "Already a few. Still kinda sucks that you have to wait. Especially when it doesn't quite effect you anymore, but you can't help but feel like you need to still care."

"That's a horrible feeling." I sighed, and shrugged. "Still, when you want to fix the world, you have to go step by step, piece by piece. You have to constantly fight against those who think they know more or those who want to keep the status quo. But you have to keep fighting. You have to keep pushing. Change only comes when people challenge the 'normal'." It was slow, but so long as you didn't give up, change would come. "And I'm very lucky. My friends and I may not always agree, but we listen to each other and do our best to fix any mistakes we make. We work together to try and make the world better. So, I don't have to fight alone."

"That's… inspiring." She looked up at me curiously. "How you guys known each other long?"

"Uh…" I had to pause to think about it. "I think we've known each other for… nine months? Ten? I'd have to check the date."

"What." Her jaw dropped. "Seriously?! You guys haven't even known each other for a year?!"

"I don't think so, no?" I shrugged, unbothered. "Are you that surprised?"

"Yes!" She went on a little ramble on just how surprising it was, but I found myself quickly distracted by other thoughts. Other people I needed to check in on.

Like Nessiara. I'd heard nothing about her since my conscription. I needed to write a letter home, to Shianni, Soris, and Valendrian. I needed to check in on Nessa, who I encouraged to stay with Shianni. Amethyne, who was basically family, whose mother, Iona, died at Highever. Other people I hadn't thought about in a long while. Still hadn't asked about, even though I knew so many had died or been sold off.

Maybe this was why we were so bad at this 'rebuilding' thing. Everything had happened so fast during the Blight. Constantly hurrying and racing about. It's only now that any of us really had a chance to look around at all the shards left behind. It wasn't just the kingdom we were rebuilding. We were also rebuilding ourselves and truly realizing just how different everything was. How different we were. We laughed often about it, but now, it really hit us.

I wasn't sure if it was a good thing or not. It was a thing, though. I'd talk to the others about it, later.

After wandering the market for a while longer, we walked into the Crown and Lion, Amaranthine's main inn and tavern, to try and hunt down Kristoff. It was very bustling, filled with people on break from work, laughing and cheering. Of course, because this was just our luck, we ran right into Mischa again. Almost literally, thanks to a drunk clapping me on the back in enthusiasm, making me trip over Sigrun, and we both just barely managed to not bust our faces on the table. Way to make a second impression, huh?

"You? Again?" Mischa groaned, facepalming. Sigrun and I got ourselves steady again, and almost just left. Sigrun, however, decided to stay, so I stayed with her. "Going to get me kicked out of Amaranthine too?"

"I… I know that n-nothing I say will make things better," Sigrun began. An idea sparked in her eyes and she hunted through her pockets and pulled out a gold ring. "Um… here? Have this?"

"A ring?" Mischa took it, but gave Sigrun a skeptical look. "A proposal? You're not my type."

"It's… it'll fetch a fair price, even on the surface. I think. So, you can… um…" Sigrun looked down and curled into herself. I knew the pose. It was to make herself smaller, and not as much of a target. "You can sell it. Rebuild your life with the money."

"Huh." She inspected the ring closely, frowning. "This looks like the crest of House Vollney. Stole this off a noble, did you?"

"No, it belonged to a friend." Sigrun's eyes were pained, and I remembered that she had lost most of her friends. Cleon had told me "So…"

"Sigrun, that's a memento, isn't it?" I murmured. I reached in between them and looked at Mischa, even as I kept talking to Sigrun. "You lost your friend barely a week ago. What's the monetary value? I'll match it instead."

"Oh?" Mischa asked, intrigued. She looked at the ring and then at me. "Twenty sovereigns. Easily."

"Then here." I pulled the amount out of my coinpurse, absently aware that, at one time, I never would've even considered the price. Now, thanks to everything, I had more money than I really knew what to do with. "I'll buy the ring off of you."

"Thank you." She took the money without a fuss and handed the ring to Sigrun herself. "You've a true friend here, Sigrun. Try to not ruin it."

"Oh, he's my boss," Sigrun quickly explained. She smiled brightly at the ring and tucked it back into her pocket. "I'm a Warden now. This is the Commader."

"I… huh?" Mischa stared for a moment before looking at me. "You are?" she asked. I had to bite back a smile. "You're smaller than I thought."

"I shrank in my last bath, very sad," I retorted. Though it was amusing now, I had little doubts it would be this amusing in the future. I was certain the stories would 'accidentally forget' to mention that I was an elf, among other things. "But yes, I am. Sigrun is helping us out."

"I see." She looked down briefly and smiled at Sigrun. It was small, and a bit bitter, but it was a smile. "This will go a long way. I could start another business. You've done right, Sigrun." She drained the last of her drink and left without another word.

Sigrun watched her leave, before sighing. "Thank you, Commander," Sigrun whispered. "That ring does mean a lot."

"I figured."

"Yeah…" She looked down and continued absently, almost like she was just thinking aloud. "My mother's name was Jana. Shared a house, hovel really, with her, my Uncle Boro, my aunt, and my four cousins. I became a thief to help make ends meet. Or to fill my belly. That's how Mischa met me. She saw me stealing and, instead, just paid for it. Gave me honest work. You saw how it turned out. By the time that all happened, my mother died. Crushed by a bronto while unloading things. My uncle didn't want me back. So, I joined the Carta. Did well until I got caught stealing Damira Helmi's tacky purse."

"Tacky?" I probably shouldn't have interrupted, but I was far too curious.

"Ruby. Encrusted." She rolled her eyes and I laughed. That just seemed impractical. "The guards chased, I fought back, and somehow, I killed one. I got a choice then. Legion or execution. Picked the Legion. Best decision ever." She brought up the ring, smiling sadly at it. "Varlen befriended me, though. Taught me how to read and write. Let me borrow his only book whenever I wanted." She looked up at me, and smiled. "He was my first real friend. But it was also the only thing on me worth any money. Most give their stuff away, before the Legion." She pocketed the ring again and rolled her shoulders. "And that's enough of being introspective and boring. We've a job here, right?"

"We do. Ready?"

"Yep!" She grinned. "Let's go!"

Laughing at her enthusiasm, we made our slow way to the innkeeper. I waited until he was free before catching his attention and quietly telling him that I was the Warden-Commander and wanted to know about Kristoff. Thankfully, he believed me immediately about being the Commander, and told me how Kristoff had left a while ago. Even gave me the key to his room so that I could look around.

The room, however, was pretty sparse. Most possessions seemed to be away, though there were still things here and there. Someone who had taken things useful, but had planned on being back for the rest. Sigrun poked around, focused on hiding places, but I flipped through the papers on the desk. I found a letter from someone named 'Aura' and, more importantly, a journal. I flipped through in absently and frowned over the last entry. It talked of darkspawn travelers in the Blackmarsh. Talking darkspawn… a 'worm with legs'… the odd darkspawn and those Children things Nuada and Cleon described.

"Looks like he left for the Blackmarsh," I murmured. I looked at the map pinned to the wall, and found it fairly quickly. It was one of the few places not crossed out. "That sounds like a delightful place."

"Pretty much as soon as you attach the word 'marsh' to anything, you're condemning it to being an awful place," Sigrun groaned, crawling out from under the bed. She sat back on her heels and rubbed at her eyes. "It just sounds wrong."

"It does." I smiled at her, pointing to her hair to subtly mention the dust. She brushed it out easily. "Find anything?"

"Other than the cleaners here have been skimping? Nope." She stood up, and stretched. "Well, Dark Wolf now?"

"Yeah, I think we've found all we're going to here, for now." I set the journal back on the desk. "Let's leave word, in case he comes back, and then head off."

We left the room, making sure to lock it behind us, and returned the key. While I was giving the innkeeper my message, though, I glanced about the room, just in case, and discovered a familiar face I hadn't expected. So, I bolted for her, wondering if I could surprise her. But Wynne saw me before I could try. Something about her smile told me she'd seen me long before I'd seen her.

"Well, if it isn't the Warden-Commander!" Wynne greeted with a laugh. She gave me a hug and gestured to a nearby chair. "How have you been? You look exhausted."

"Let's just say things continue to be weird," I replied, also laughing. I hadn't expected to see any of my old friends here. "Ah, this is Sigrun, by the way." I gestured to the very confused Sigrun as I sat down. "She's a newer recruit, from the Legion."

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, my dear." Wynne signaled one of the waitresses. "More ale, please."

"I'll pay."

"Now, Aiden…" Wynne laughed again. "Ah, how about we split the check?"

"Done." I waved Sigrun to a chair. She sat slowly, still very confused. "Sigrun, this is Wynne. She's a friend, and one of my companions during the Blight. Had to deal with us being idiots."

"I enjoyed every minute of it."

"I'm sure. Where's Shale? Last I heard, she was with you."

"She was, but she decided to go to Orzammar. Make sure that they're treating the golems properly." Her smile faded a bit for concern. "That's where I heard that the darkspawn aren't retreating as they should. Have you all been doing okay? I know what you just said, but…"

"We're managing. We have fewer allies than we wanted." I shrugged and thanked the waitress when she set out the mugs of ale. "So, it's a ragtag bunch of misfits again."

"Things with the Circle are a little tense at the moment, but I can ask them to try and send you some aid, if you'd like."

"Honestly, that would be helpful, but why is it tense?" I sipped the ale and grinned. They broke out the good stuff for us. "Is it because of Uldred?"

"Not exactly. It's the College of Magi. It's convening in Cumberland and…" She sighed. "Well, hopefully, this will all blow over before it's begun. It's poor timing, among other things. But nothing for you to be concerned over."

"Well, now that you said that, I know that I will, somehow, be involved." I knew how my luck went. In fact, knowing my luck, I'd somehow be indirectly responsible for it. "So…?"

"I… oh, fine. It might actually affect the Wardens." Wynne sipped her own ale, and I briefly checked on Sigrun. She was firmly fascinated and distracted by her drink, so I focused completely on Wynne. "Did Layla ever tell you about the fraternities of the Circle?"

"I don't recall her explaining them, no."

"Right. Well, I am part of the Aequitarians. We're the dominant faction in the College of Magi. We believe that mages must use their abilities in a responsible and ethical manner, regardless of Chantry law."

"You know; you could've just left it with 'I am this' and I would've guessed all of that." I laughed when she rolled her eyes. "Sorry, I'll be quiet."

"Good." She grinned to let me know she didn't really mind before continuing on. "Now, Isolationists are those who wish to separate themselves from everything. Templars, Chantry, civilization in general."

"And where would they go? Across the Amaranthine Sea? Somehow?"

"I have no idea." She sipped more of her ale. "Then there are the Loyalists. They are those who follow the Chantry's word as it is written. They accept and even enforce the ways of the Circle. For good and for ill."

"Bit surprised about that."

"They're a smaller one. Typically, it's filled with those who have managed to turn the system into their complete advantage. Not a bad thing, mind, even if I disagree with some."

"Are they the smallest?"

"No, that would be the Lucrosians. They prioritize the accumulation of wealth, followed by political influence. Merchants, really. I honestly don't know much else about them."

"I see." I finished my ale and got a refill from one of the waitresses. "Is that all?"

"No, one more. The Libertarians." Wynne got a refill as well. "As the name suggests, they desire the Circle to become an autonomous, self-regulating order without Chantry involvement. They're the ones the public hears about, because they're the ones who can become… violent."

"Uldred?"

"Uldred was one, yes. Thankfully, most are more peaceful, even if their sense of timing is off." She sighed heavily. I just wondered why the Chantry 'allowed' such a fraternity to exist. Was it a way to keep potential troublemakers in one place? It seemed stupid. If I were in the Circle, I might've chosen to join Wynne's fraternity to hide. But, then again, I knew very little about Circle things. "The Libertarians proposed a bill of secession. If it gets enough support…"

"The Chantry will let them?"

"No." Wynne's eyes hardened. "It will lead to war. A very bloody and very brutal war. And that is not a war Thedas will survive fighting. We need another Divine, among other things." Wynne suddenly gasped and she looked over at Sigrun. "Oh, Sigrun, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ramble like that."

"No, no, don't mind me!" Sigrun reassured. She took a big gulp of ale and grinned. I smiled guiltily at how I'd been ignoring her too. "I'm just enjoying the not-dirt-tasting-ale. Never had it before. You two talk. I'm good."

She had to reassure us a few more times before either of us felt better and, even then, we did our best to include her in the various stories and gossip. It was relaxing and, for a moment, I let myself just… be. Enjoy time with a friend, and not have the weight of everything on my shoulders.

Truly, I was lucky to have friends like these. I'd always be grateful for them.

Chapter Text

Interlude – Sigrun

Things on the surface are… weird. The bright sun that burns her skin a prickling red. The large sky that stretches over them like a monster's gaping maw. The strange scents that barraged her. The weird animals. Though it was probably the tree things that bother her the most. She's not sure why. They're just weird.

She shakes her head and looks about, taking note of anything interesting. Lots of shiny things, and her fingers twitch with old habits. But she resists because the last thing she needs to do is cause more trouble. Instead, she watches Commander Tabris for a moment, trying to observe him. She picks up a few basic things, but mostly, she notices that he avoids looking at anything red. Orange, pink, and other colors? Just fine. Red? His eyes shift quickly away, looking at the next thing.

She wonders why and almost asks, but then her eyes fall on something she's only heard of, from Varlan. A 'spyglass', which lets you see things from very far away. It's also very, very shiny. So it really holds her attention.

"Something catch your eye, Sigrun?" Commander Tabris asks. He looks down at her briefly and then at the stall. "What is it?"

"It's nothing, just the spyglass," she mumbles. Those of the Legion aren't really supposed to have 'belongings', though there are always little bits here and there. Or something. "It's shiny."

"We can buy whatever you want, you know." He walks over to the stall and she panics a little, not sure how else to react. "Anything else?"

"Um…" Her eyes dart around and they fall on the stack of books. "Books?"

"Spyglass and those books. Got it." He talks with the stall owner and purchases them. She really needs to learn to talk better around him. She hadn't quite meant for him to buy them for her. Though, the titles did look interesting. "Here you are." He passes her a cloth bag, filled with her purchases. "There's books in the library as well, by the way. Back at the Keep. Ask someone to show you when we get back?"

"Uh… sure?" She takes the bag automatically, feeling more and more bewildered. Nothing is quite like what she expects on the surface. Her commander casually buying things for her? Apparently getting to read whenever she wants? This is just so weird. Varlan would've loved it. She wonders if she could find a copy of his book in this library. It had been ruined by all the blood, so that's why she took the ring.

She falls silent when they walk again, remembering all her friends. Remembering her team, and how horribly they all died. She had run. She, already dead, had run. It might have been a blessing in disguise, since she had warned the Wardens. But still. She had run. Did she really deserve all of this? She isn't sure.

But recognizing the melancholy, she shakes her head. She's not really the type to mope. She likes being able to laugh and smile. So, she decides to do what she did to Varlan, when they first met. Pester Commander Tabris with questions.

"How old are you?" she asks. Commander Tabris looks down at her weirdly before taking her shoulder to make sure the crowd doesn't drag her away. "Actually, how old are you four senior Wardens?"

"It's strange to be considering 'senior' anything," Commander Tabris half-complains. Still, he closes his eyes, thinking. "Mistress Layla is eighteen, Cleon and Lord Nuada and twenty-one, and I am the eldest at twenty-two."

"And the titles?"

"They started from my 'conditioning' as a servant, but they have become simply affectionate names now. It feels wrong to not call them by that now."

"I see." She looks around and finds another thing to ask about. "Where did the scar on your arm come from?"

"I got it from killing the noble who raped my cousin." He says the words absently, but she wonders if that was why he was with the Wardens. She knows how Orzammar would react to a casteless killing a noble. She imagines the reaction would be similar, based on their earlier talk. "I don't recommend asking about where any other scar came from. The only other one I clearly remember is the one on my neck here." He gestures to his neck and smiles. It's a pained smile, though, and doesn't reach his eyes. "Ostagar. And where Cleon and Lady Elspeth saved my life."

"Don't know the latter name."

"Lord Nuada's twin sister, and the Queen of Fereldan." He leads them out of the market and down an alley, back towards where they had met the Dark Wolf previously. However, before they reach the location, a trio of people approaches them, weapons in hand. It takes her a second to realize they're actually being attacked. "Are you thieves? If you're thieves, then I'll literally just give you some money." Commander Tabris keeps his calm. "No need to beat it out of me."

Their attackers don't seem to care about the free offer, though. Instead, they charge and she has just enough time to set down the bag of 'her' things before one is on her. She notices they fight better than most street-rats should, and so she dispatches the one on her easily, stealing their weapon to stab them in the groin. She notes the ears and size, and decides they're human. She's about to try and learn other details, but she promptly gets distracted by Commander Tabris's 'fight'. By which she means 'smash one's head into a pulp against the ground and nearly decapitating another with a dagger that appeared out of nowhere.'

She had always heard elves were 'lithe' and 'dexterous'. She doesn't know many hardened warriors who could pull that off.

"Well, that was invigorating," she jokes, picking up her bag to make sure no blood got on anything. Commander Tabris nudges the bodies, checking they're all dead. He pauses at the one he dispatches and both winces and smiles. "Didn't expect to get mugged so quickly on the surface! Or whatever that was."

"Clearly, a poorly coordinated attack that wasn't entirely motivated by money," he answers. He crouches down and uses the shirt of one of the attackers to clean off his dagger. "Someone who didn't like my face perhaps."

"Or those conspirators." She wonders why surfacers are in such a hurry to antagonize Wardens. Especially now, considering they had just dealt with a Blight. But, then again, she remembers how Orzammar had given Wardens a runaround to get help from them. Kardol had told her about it. "So, have you always been that strong?" She nods at the smashed skull one. "Is it a Warden thing?"

"No, I haven't and…" His expression becomes sad again. "Sadly, it's not exactly a Warden thing either."

"Why sadly? It was cool?" The only answer is that pained smile that doesn't reach his eyes, so she changes the subject. "Where did the dagger come form?"

"It was my mother's."

"I meant 'where did you hide it'?"

"Oh." His smile becomes sheepish, reaching his eyes again. "My boot."

"Isn't that painful?"

"No, actually. Leliana and Zevran helped me… oh, hello there." Commander Tabris stands as guards rush over. She rolls her eyes at them. Guards were always late. "I take it someone reported the noise?"

"Yes, we were told there was a fight here," one, the leader, explains. An older human, with skin darker than hers, but lighter than Commander Tabris's and pale hair. "You are?"

"Aiden Tabris, Commander of the Grey. We were attacked and, after giving a chance for surrender, we retaliated," Commander Tabris explains. His words are crisp and clear, as if there is no doubt the guards will listen. She notices their eyes dart to his ears. "Apologies for the mess."

The guards hesitate a while longer, but, to her surprise, they bow in obvious respect. "Of course, Warden-Commander. Do you need any assistance?"

"No, not at this point. I intend to finish up my business quickly and leaving, though. Can you handle the rest?"

"Of course, ser." The guards begin cleaning up without another word and she stares. She stares so long that she has to jog to catch up with Commander Tabris because he had just walked away, still perfectly confident.

Surfacers are weird.

Chapter Text

Chapter 11) Scars

Nuada POV

He coughs and, for a second, he wonders if he's coughing up blood. Thankfully, though, it's not the case. He has too much work to do. No matter how little he slept, ate… whatever… there's always work to be done.

He sighs and rubs at his tired eyes and lets himself relax slightly. He's in his own study, so he has the luxury. As soon as he steps out, he'll have to be the 'perfect' Cousland. Even if that reputation is working against them, thanks to political nonsense, he has to keep it up for his people. Even if he's not suited for this, and he really isn't. Elspeth was supposed to inherit Highever. He was supposed to just be a general in the army. Nuada…well, Nuada was a Warden, like expected, but he was supposed to be a Warden who wasn't tied up in politics. Yet, here they were. Elspeth was queen, Nuada was Teyrn of Gwaren and a bunch of other things, and he was the Teyrn of Highever.

So much went wrong. So many people died when they shouldn't have. Father… Mother… Orianna… Rory… Nan… Aldous… Mother Mallol… so many. So many gone. So many dead. And he can't mourn. Not really. There's too much to do, and…

"Papa?" Oren pokes his head in, and so, he smiles and throws all the thoughts to the side. "Papa, can we play?" Oren asks. "Please?"

"Let me find a stopping point," he answers. He can't deny his son much. He had spent too long thinking his son dead to avoid spoiling him. "Be patient."

"Okay. Love you."

"I love you too."

"So, this is where the guards are being temporarily diverted to," I explained to Layla, showing her the piece of paper as we walked down the hall. Cleon had originally been with us, but we got word that the paths below were clear, so he took Nathaniel and Velanna to determine if there was a good place to set up a blockade against further darkspawn attacks. "Once we get enough granite and silverite, we'll put them back to defending the farmlands."

"Do we truly have to divert them though?" Layla asked, frowning. She took the paper from me to skim over it. "Are we really that low on soldiers?"

"Amaranthine's soldiers were thinned out by both attacks on Highever, the Civil War, the Blight, and the recent attack, sadly."

"Can we request more soldiers?"

"You did that this morning."

"Oh, I forgot." Layla sighed, drooping a little. I rubbed her back, knowing she'd rather be working in the infirmary with Anders than dealing with this. "I do not like leaving the farmers without protection. Do we need guards for the transporting?"

"Bandits."

"Damn." She scowled and passed the paper back to me before gesturing a bit with her hands. Little bits of flame burst from her fingertips, and I was once again reminded I was in love with someone who could very easily kill me with a thought. Of course, that was part of her charm. "Why are there bandits? There was a Blight!"

"People lost a lot. They turned to banditry in order to try and make ends meet. You judged someone who did that, right?"

"I… oh." She threw up her hands and a harmless bunch of sparkles flew up with them. Some servants squeaked, but I was just… charmed. "Reconstruction sucks."

"That's why the stories stop with 'happily ever after'." I took her hand and kissed it, and she smiled back. "I can see about poking some of the local nobles to lend us their soldiers, though, and I have a feeling that once this conspiracy is over, we are going to have more soldiers to work with."

"We will?" She frowned again before gasping. "Oh, that is right. They will be Oathbreakers."

"Well, we'd have to go through legal things to officially call them that. That's why Loghain isn't officially one." Becoming a Warden meant there was no point to it, and the designation of 'traitor' screwed Anora enough. "We might make the ringleader officially one as a warning. But either their holdings will go to you, or their heirs will be tripping over themselves to make it up to you."

"I see." She smiled slightly, eyes warm. "This is why I wanted you helping me sooner, you know."

"I… didn't want to undermine your authority?" I looked away, but she moved in front of me. "We went over this."

"I know." She reached up to cup my face and got on her tiptoes to kiss me. "I wish we had talked about it sooner."

"We both anticipated more time before weird things happened."

"That is very true."

"Warden-Arlessa Amell! Warden-Teryn Cousland!" A messenger jog up, looking a little frazzled. I spared a moment's thought of being amused by the titles before focusing on them. "Sorry to bother, my lady, my lord," they continued, saluting. "But there is a visitor for Warden Oghren? A very… argumentative visitor."

"Is that so?" Layla asked. She frowned for a moment and then looked at me. "I have to meet Varel…"

"I can handle placating a visitor," I reassured her. She smiled brightly and turned to the messenger. "Oghren is training soldiers in the back. If he's not there, check his room or the cellar." The messenger saluted again and dashed off. "Whoever it is, they must be quite the visitor to cause this much fuss."

"I wonder who it is." Layla sighed, frowning worriedly. "Also, Oghren's been drinking a lot more. I know he's a bit of a drunk, but…"

"He has, but let's wait for him." I kissed her cheek and she nodded. We knew we couldn't force Oghren to tell us anything. "Let's get to work, love."

"Of course." She smiled teasingly. "Don't forget the word for 'kitten' now."

"Andraste's blood, Layla!" I scowled, but she laughed and laughed. "Well, if that's how you'll be…!" I picked her up and grinned as she continued laughing. "I'll get you back later."

"I look forward to it."

We teased each other a little longer, longer than necessary really, before she went to go about her day's work with Seneschal Varel, and I went to deal with Oghren's visitor. However, I was surprised to realize I knew who it was: Felsi.

"Where is he? I know he's here!" she demanded as soon as she saw me. Her eyes flashed with anger and hurt, and her entire demeanor screamed 'I will cut you'. I couldn't blame the servants one bit for being a little frazzled. "Cough him up, Warden!"

"It is a pleasure to see you again too, Miss Felsi," I replied, defaulting to cheerful politeness. Sadly, it seemed to make her angrier. "I take it you're here for Oghren?"

"You're not going to pull the moss over my eyes! Tell him to get his hairy ass down here!"

"I've a servant getting him now. He's training the soldiers out back." I smiled as charmingly as I could and she calmed down slightly. "I fear you made the servants a little nervous, so they went to one of us first to make sure all was safe."

"…Suppose I shouldn't have taken my anger on them." The anger slowly faded, making the hurt far more prominent. "Still, though, that dwarf…!" Though the anger certainly made a comeback! "Honestly, he…!"

"Hang onto your beard, woman." Thankfully for my barely-there sanity, Oghren walked in, grinning and acting confident. However, it really was just an act. He gait 'swung' too much, and his smirk was a little too wide. "Is this a conjugal visit?" he joked, snickering. "Need Oghren to-"

"Don't lay a finger on me," Felsi instantly snapped. She was right back to glaring and I took a step back, making sure I was not in the way. "You've done a lot of stupid things on a whim, but joining the Wardens-!"

"Didn't you say it would be hot?"

"We were roleplaying!" Quite a few passing servants covered their ears at that point. I didn't blame them one bit. "Oghren-!"

"Look, I didn't sign up on a whim, all right? Aiden wouldn't let me. He's not like most Warden recruiters who trick and hide. He's open." Oghren shrugged and dropped the cocky act. "Besides, you kicked me out. For good reasons."

"You were just looking for an excuse!"

"You kept trying to make me into something I'm not." Some pain threaded through Oghren's words there. "I can't play house like you want me to." I heard the silent 'like I wish I could' added on the end. "I'm only good at one thing, Fels, and it's killing."

"You had a good thing in the army, though!" Felsi's voice cracked, holding back tears. "They respected you!" She looked away sharply. Oghren reached out briefly, but then dropped his hand. "Fine, though. Fine. If this is what you want, the baby and I will just get by without you."

She left then, and I found myself very confused. Baby. She had said 'baby'. But it had been six months… though, then again, it was possible dwarven pregnancies didn't last nine months. I knew humans did, but…

"Gah, sod it!" Oghren growled, jolting me from my thoughts. He tried to storm away, but I stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "Nuada."

"I won't force you into anything, and I won't force you to talk about anything," I murmured. I wondered if this was why he'd been drinking more than usual. "But let me say something, please." I waited for his nod before continuing. "Wardens are allowed to keep families. You can't be the typical father, but you couldn't be that anyway. That's why you came to us."

"I couldn't settle down again. I did once. You… well, you weren't there to see the fall out with Branka." That was true, but I had heard. I knew Aiden and Cleon continued to have nightmares about it. "Felsi will get by. The nugget, though…"

"As I said, Wardens are allowed to keep families. You can visit, and write." I thought about other things that could be helpful and came up on one. "Oh, you do get a stipend, or will. That's one of the budget things I'm working on."

"That'll… that'll help them a lot." Oghren laughed and patted my hand, still on his shoulder. "And hey, the little one will grow up thinking Daddy's a great hero."

"You are one, Oghren. You might not have traveled with us long, but in that time, you helped us a great deal. Without you or Sten, the darkspawn would've overrun the gates of Denerim, and we wouldn't have gotten the opening we needed to kill the Archdemon."

"Oh, you… get going before I get misty eyed." Oghren rubbed roughly at his eyes, so clearly, he already was. "Go on. I'll be fine."

"Try not to drink so much after today. We've been worried." I patted him on the shoulder and almost left him to it. But then another idea came to me. "Actually, what do you say to a spar?"

As much as I would love to just 'fix' everything, there were some things you just couldn't help with. This was one of them. But Oghren would make it work for him, hopefully. Even if he couldn't, at this point, all I could do was try to support him, as much as I could.

After sparring with Oghren to help him bleed off frustration, I went to double-check that the group below was doing well. The soldiers by the door reassured me that no one had sent for help, yet, so I decided to check how repairing the walls was coming along. However, a different messenger informed me that there was another visitor, one that they didn't want to leave 'alone' for long, and Layla was busy. I was confused as to why they didn't want the visitor to be alone until I saw it was Loghain. Then it all made sense.

"I was wondering who they'd get to be my watcher," Loghain joked, leaning against one of the pillars. It kept him in shadow, and let him avoid all the people glaring at him. "Thank you for the maps, by the way."

"I'm glad they reached you safely," I replied, feeling a little awkward. I'd sent him maps for his birthday, partly out of habit, but now, I didn't know what to say. "What brings you to the Vigil? Did the Wardens assign you here?"

"No, sadly, I have been ordered, by the First Warden, to go to Montsimmard." He waited for me to process the information, and I had to struggle to not laugh. Montsimmard was the headquarters for the Orlesian Grey Wardens, and also home to a Circle of Magi. "You can laugh. I can appreciate the irony too." He rolled his eyes when I did break out into snickers. "Here I thought darkspawn blood would be the last poison I'd have to swallow. Maric would be laughing his head off."

"He would." I continued snickering for a little longer before sadness took over and killed whatever cheer I'd had. I wished we knew just how he'd died. He just… went to Antiva, and vanished. He probably got caught in a storm or something. "I miss him."

"I do too. Even now, I wish he'd just walk on in, wondering what was going on."

"It would be a bit awkward, now."

"It would. But I'd suffer it, if it meant seeing him again."

"I suppose you would." Everyone had always talked of the strong bond between Loghain and Uncle Maric. It didn't surprise me one bit that he'd suffer any sort of anger if it meant Uncle Maric was still alive. "Speaking of seeing people, did you see Anora?"

"I did, actually. She offered to watch me until Layla was done, but the messenger didn't seem comfortable with that." Loghain looked down briefly and I just shrugged. There wasn't anything to say to that. We both knew why that was. "She's doing well. I'm glad."

"Fergus tries to be a good husband."

"He better."

"Oh, Loghain…" Layla, thankfully, walked up then, trying to clean her hands. She had ink blotches on them, showing that a pen had exploded on her. "I had not expected you," she greeted, nodding politely. "I don't suppose you came with extra soldiers?"

"Sadly, no, but I wish I had," Loghain replied, bowing respectfully. "I just thought I'd make sure no one was giving you all too much trouble."

"Aside from some conspirators and weird darkspawn, no, we seem to be doing well." She frowned when Loghain chuckled. "Might I ask what has you amused?"

"I had conspirators just as quickly after the Rebellion. It's amazing how quickly people forget that you're a war hero who can kill them as easily as one carves a cake."

"Well, I am pleased to be normal, for once." Layla's voice was so dry that Loghain and I had to laugh. "Though, I am gladdened to see you. I had a question for you." Layla bit her lip and hesitated before continuing. "I know you hate Orlais, but…"

"Hate doesn't describe it. At least, I don't think so." Loghain's words became clipped from raw pain, and I barely resisted the urge to facepalm. I should've warned her to not directly ask about that. "Growing up, I saw painted, masked lords beat an old farmer to death with riding crops. To this day, I don't know why. Maybe they were bored." Old anger crept into his voice and Layla looked at me worriedly. I simply smiled, knowing better than to try and stop." I saw good, sensible men fighting armored chevaliers with nothing. No weapons, no armies, not even a hope of success. All just to see the occupation end." He started gesturing sharply. Layla winced and I kissed the top of her head to try and reassure her. "They snatched up my mabari, my best friend, because she was pretty and they felt entitled to her. Bred her with whatever lap dog they wanted to give her coat to until she was used up. They pushed her out of a wagon like a sack of rotten vegetables, thankfully near where we were. I held her as she died. Then, weeks, months later, I was held down, bleeding from a leg wound, as their soldiers raped and murdered my mother, all because my father didn't want to give up his home." Layla flinched and I patted her shoulder. I knew from experience that this would be over soon. "Is all that hate? No, Hate is too tame of a word. So is 'loathe'." He paused and visibly got his emotions under control, bowing his head apologetically. "But I can admit it overcame my reason. I can admit it led me to a warped 'I did what I had to' mentality."

"I was… more using that for a lead in, but I see I spoke too lightly of it. I am sorry." Layla also bowed her head, blushing faintly. I took her hand and smiled encouragingly. "It was truly a question about the Alienage."

"Of course." Loghain took a couple of breaths to help him calm down further and then nodded. "What is the question?"

"Why was it…?" Her voice cracked, but she coughed to clear it. "Why is it that you thought it was better for elves to live as slaves than die free, when you nearly let Fereldan die for fear of Orlais?"

"…I can admit to being hypocritical, Layla. For further proof, you could also bring up how I told Cailan that we had to attend to reality, and then deluded myself into believe there was no threat with the Blight." Loghain smiled bitterly. "I am afraid there isn't much of a better answer, save the obvious."

"I see." Layla frowned and brushed her hair behind her ear with her free hand. "I never realized how… in the Circle, I did not see things like this. Though, perhaps I was blind to them, or perhaps it was just where I grew up. Kinloch Hold is infamous for how tolerant it is."

"I've heard that as well. Though, I don't think I've seen an example."

"If Anders had been from Kirkwall, he would have been killed for all his escape attempts. Knight-Commander Meredith is known for her harshness. Though, Kirkwall apparently has a lot of trouble with abominations and blood mages."

"Like Uldred, but more… regular?"

"That is what I heard."

The two of them began talking, the subject slowly turning away from Orlais and elves, and I almost stepped away, noticing Cleon entering the room, triumphantly covered in blood and mud. However, as I did, a servant swung by to offer Layla some wine. I vaguely paid attention to their words, focusing more on how they kept fidgeting, eyes darting around like a skittish kitten. However, I did catch the vintage they claimed the wine was and frowned, because the wine was far too dark for that. So, with a shrug, I stole the wine from Layla and took a sip myself.

It was far too bitter for the vintage they said. It was honestly too bitter for typical wine. That was about all I could think before the paralysis hit and I realized with horror what just happened. The wine had been poisoned and, worse, it was the same poison that nearly killed me, back in Antiva.

I collapsed, the wine glass shattering on the ground, and desperately tried to not choke on the wine as everything locked up. My lungs burned. My eyes watered. Terror flooded my mind, covering up my ears and ability to reason. Someone caught me before I hit the groun. Someone shouted for Anders to 'help'. Someone chased, pounding footsteps leading away. I struggled to catch what bits I could, to help me remember that I was not alone in Antiva with only an assassin. I was surrounded by people who could help, who were helping. I would be fine, no matter what the terror tried to scream. I hoped.

Thankfully, that hope was answered. After an eternity-filled moment, I could breath again. I immediately started coughing, gasping for air and spitting up the wine. My eyes still burned, but I held back tears to simply focus on breathing. The inside of my mouth was tingling, borderline numb. My shirt was ruined from the spilt wine. My hand was sticky.

Other things slowly began filtering through. People shouting, people running… my focus centered on someone stroking my hair, and I finally looked u to see Cleon had been the one to catch me. He also cradled me against his chest, and smiled when he saw me looking. He brought up a hand and signed, 'I take it the wine did not agree with you.'

"Yeah, it didn't," I croaked, coughing more. It took a couple of tries to get my hands to make the signs, lingering paralysis and my own shakiness, and then I looked to see a relieved Anders and a teary Layla also hovering over me. They had been the ones to save me. So, I made sure to smile at them. "I don't recommend that wine, by the way. I highly don't recommend it."

This was not what I had planned for the day, not one bit.

After my poisoning, I was ordered, by both Layla and Anders, to take the day off. They left Anora as my 'make sure he actually listens' watcher, because everyone else had things to do. Cleon had to deal with arranging people to work on below, because they had apparently found an actual mechanism that would seal off this section of the Deep Roads. Layla had to reassure people and return to administrative things. Oghren and Anders were checking all the food and drink in the entire Keep to make sure nothing else was poisoned. Loghain had chased down the servant and was in the middle of interrogation, and Nathaniel was patrolling to make sure there wasn't assassin-assassins running about.

"Well, the people are firmly on your side, after such a heinous and messy attempt on Layla's life," Anora explained, fixing some tea for me to help me get the bitter taste out of my mouth. "Between that, whatever information Aiden finds, and the information Father is getting out of the servant, we should be able to deal with this fairly quickly. I do still expect some sort of protest, though."

"The poison certainly explains why they were confident enough to form a conspiracy," I replied, trying to not fidget. I hated being laid up, but if I showed any sort of discomfort, Anora would be fussing over my blankets and pillows again. "Ah, thank you." I took the teacup from her and sipped it. It was a lighter tea and just what I needed. "Thanks for this, Anora."

"Of course." She sat down on the bed beside me and proceeded to fuss with the pillows. She'd noticed my discomfort, damn it. "Is it steeped enough?"

"It's exactly what I need." It really was, and with it, embarrassment began creeping in. Exasperation joined it. "I can't believe we didn't think they'd resort to poison." Once again, our arrogance almost cost us. Maker's balls, you'd think we'd be more aware. "Though, it's not really a 'Fereldan' thing to do. Orlais and Antiva favor the 'poison in the wine' trick. Fereldans prefer just stabbing."

"Must you joke?"

"It's not the first time I've been poisoned, Anora."

"It's not the first time you've gotten hurt protecting someone, but that doesn't mean it's any easier to watch." She gently touched my cheek, by one of the scars, the one I'd gotten protecting Cailan. "…I wish he were here. He'd have everyone laughing."

"I miss Cailan too." Whenever any of us were injured or under the weather, he'd done his best to cheer us up. "Though, in my defense…"

"Ah, I don't want to hear it." Someone knocked on the door and Anora turned towards it. "Come in?"

"Oh, good, he did not somehow trick you into leaving." Layla stepped in, smiling slightly. "I had worried he would," she teased, smiling slightly. She looked drained, though, so the smile was weak. "I am not sure why, though."

"No, he's been very good," Anora replied, standing. I chose against responding and just sipped more of my tea. "Are you here on break?"

"Actually, Varel said I was done for the day." Layla shrugged, though, her smile becoming bitter. "Though, truthfully, I am not sure if I truly am 'done', or if he was just tired of…"

"Varel would make sure you were done. That's how he is." Anora smiled reassuringly. "Though, if you would like, I can double-check your work?"

"I would greatly appreciate it."

"Of course." Anora patted Layla on the back as she exited and shut the door behind her.

Layla just looked at me, hesitating over something. At first, I waited for her to say something, continuing to drink my tea, but the second I finished, and set it to the side, Layla lunged and crawled into bed with me, curling up against my chest with her ear right over my heart. That was when I realized the obvious. She had just been waiting for me to finish my tea, so that she didn't make me spill any on our blankets.

"You know; you could have said something," I teased, hugging her tightly. She shrugged, still just listening to my heartbeat. "I'm not used to people wanting to cuddle me after a poisoning."

"You and Elspeth didn't?" she asked softly. She shifted so that her hip didn't dig uncomfortably into my abdomen, but kept her face against my chest. "In the Circle, whenever one of the Templars had to kill an abomination or something, we would all curl up together. If it were evening, we would drag the pillows and blankets off the beds and make a nest. Otherwise, we would just… do something like this."

"It was too dangerous. We couldn't show that sort of weakness, nor did we want two easy targets in one location." I kissed the top of her head and slowly relaxed, noticing something. "You're wearing perfume."

"Anders found me some in the market, when he was helping Dworkin make more bombs. Is it a nice scent?"

"Well, I like it. Do you?" I smiled when she nodded. "Then, you should… wait, hold on, did you just say bombs?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes, you did not really encounter Dworkin, did you?" She looked up and smiled mischievously at me. "He is Voldrik's brother, and makes explosives from lyrium sand. They are quite powerful. A lot of the interior damage was due to him setting off one."

"I can't imagine the Qunari liking that." Though, I did wonder how Dworkin's explosives compared to the Qunari's gaatlok. I had never seen it used before, but from Sten's descriptions, I knew it was more powerful than our black powder. "Anders helped him?"

"Anders is a talented alchemist, though he normally just focuses on healing potions. He's going to work on different antidotes, just in…" Her smile fell and she went back to listening to my heartbeat.

"So, as I was trying to explain to Anora…" I absently undid her braid to play with the strands. I loved playing with her hair. "I didn't think the wine was poisoned. I'd thought it was simply a stronger wine than the servant claimed, intent on getting you drunk so that you made a fool of yourself."

"You promise?"

"Yes, I promise. Being poisoned sucks. If I had thought poison, I would've just had someone check for it."

"I see." Absently, she pushed my sleeve to trace the scale-like scars on my arm. They were a visual reminder of how I was a Reaver, along with the sharper than normal canine teeth and the silver eye. "For a second there, I was back in the Temple. I was on the mountaintop, watching you suddenly collapse. It did not help that the wine was red. Though, at least you were not rattling off facts and tactics while dying. I had wanted to hit you for that."

"Well, that time, I could actually breathe." I grimaced at the words. I'd meant them to be a joke, but… "I'm sorry. That wasn't…"

"You know; back then, you asked me how we fought." She said the words dully, and I winced when I remembered that. "You were in so much pain that you could not even remember I was a mage. Though, you did, somehow, remember how to fight the dragon."

"It was more of the immediate concern?"

"Did you even remember who Alistair and I were? I am guessing you remembered Elspeth, but…"

"I…" I fell silent, wondering how to explain, and tilted her head up so that I could look her in the eyes. "I remembered you were both people I trusted and loved beyond anything. That didn't require anything to remember. It just was. Other than that, though, yes, I was in a lot of pain. I knew there was danger, and a dragon, and I was always taught that if I die, I would die doing my duty. I would die protecting people. So, I used what sense I had to try and say whatever information could keep you alive."

"That was while you were dying, you know." She sighed gustily, and I could only smile ruefully. She and I both knew that if we were in a situation like that again, I would probably do the exact same thing. Some habits were too ingrained to break. "I never want to have to jolt your heart again."

"Well, that'll be hard." It was time to properly joke and change the subject. "You do so every time you smile."

"Nuada!" She scowled, but softened when I kissed her. "Be serious."

"I am always perfectly serious." I rested my forehead against hers. "I love you, and I am very sorry about earlier. It didn't occur to me, at all, that the wine was poisoned. I promise you that."

"I believe you." Once again, someone knocked on the door. "Come in." Layla twisted towards it, but she didn't leave my arms, not even when a servant opened the door for Cleon. "Oh, hello, there."

'Wanted to make sure you two were not in the middle of something,' he signed with a teasing grin. I playfully scowled, and Layla blushed all the way to her ears. 'I also wanted to check in. You okay?'

"I'll be fine," I reassured, bringing up my hands to sign. Layla curled up more against my chest. "Thank you for catching me, Cleon."

'Glad I was close enough.' He hooked his foot around the leg of my desk chair and dragged it over. 'Also, warning, the others are going to come by. Anders wants to give you another check, and Nathaniel mentioned something about making sure you had funny stories because you hate being laid up.' He signed the word 'hate' three times and I smiled. I was touched Nathaniel remembered that. 'So, sadly, unless you want to pretend to be asleep…'

"No, I'll pay my dues for scaring people."

'Good.' Cleon leaned over and patted Layla on the back. She smiled back. 'Anyway, mind explaining why you drank poison?'

"Maker's breath, I didn't think it was poisoned!"

I had to go through the explanation quite a few times, because everyone thought it was very 'me' to purposely drink poison to protect someone. Of course, I couldn't blame them given the other things I'd done in the past, though I did pretend to get annoyed. Most saw through it, though, just as they saw through my attempts to stay awake. Eventually, they left me to nod off and Layla stayed to run her hands through my hair and, likely, to reassure herself that I was, in fact, breathing.

Overall, it was one of the better poisoning experiences I'd had. I did hope I wouldn't have another, though.

Chapter Text

Chapter 12) Ties that Bind

Cleon POV

It is coming together slowly. There's arguments. Bickering. Compromising. Then there is getting along with their shemlen neighbors, who look on them with suspicion. There is a lot to work through, and even more to build. Still, she can't help but be excited. They have a home, and it's all thanks to Cleon. Cleon and his friends.

"I am a friend of the Hero of Fereldan, yes," she explains to a farmer. She cannot remember his name, Den-something, but knows he breeds horses. "Might I ask why that would matter?"

"Might be easier for you to settle in if you poke the others with that," the horsemaster explains. He has a kind smile. "Though everyone is a bit leery of magic users."

"I've noticed the Veil has been weakened here." She wonders what happened, but knows it is best to wait a bit before asking. "I assure you, though, that we are very strict in teaching our magic."

"Yeah, but everyone remembers the undead." The horsemaster shudders and her heart keens in sympathy. "But if anyone tries to give you trouble, drop his name. Redcliffe owes everything to the Wardens."

"I will. Ma serranas."

Their talk turns to other things. He admired the beauty of the hallas and, while they couldn't possibly 'give' any away for the moment, she does tell him about the harts, which some Dalish would ride. It's a fun exchange and not one she thought she would ever have with a shemlen.

The world is filled with endless opportunities. She wishes Zathrian could see it. But she is the Keeper, now, so she will do her duty.

Velanna was delighted by the gardens Layla had set up. Whenever she wasn't scowling at people passing by, she was outside, tending to the plants and using her magic to accelerate their growth. Thanks to that, despite the destruction and the short time, the gardens were a spot of greenery and bright colors. It was relaxing just to sit in, particularly when I could 'talk' to someone of my heritage for the first time in a while. It was fun to discuss Dalish history with someone else who knew it. I used to discuss it with Merrill, after a punishment from Hahren Paivel, so I had particularly fond memories with it all.

'Sabrae was founded by the noble, Sabrae, and two Emerald Knights, yes?' Velanna wrote. She didn't know the sign language well yet, so we had a lot of paper and ink. 'A lot of Clans were founded that way, yes? But who were the knights again? I know one was Marethari, your ancestor, but…'

'Talas, Marethari's ancestor, ' I wrote back, smiling. I'd been particularly excited when I learned that, and had happily badgered Marethari about it. 'I wonder what they felt, though. After all, the Emerald Knights' Velanna stole the pen from me and I rolled my eyes and picked up one of the spares. 'We have more than one pen, you know.'

'Hush.' She covered what she had been writing to emphasize the word before going back to her ramble on the Emerald Knights. I wasn't surprised. Shemlen might view them as savages, but to the Dalish, they were heroes. 'The Emerald Knights were the protectors of the Dales, riding into battle on halla, alongside their wolves, the Knight's Guardians!'

'Reminds me of Fereldans and their mabari.' I made sure to keep up my smile, but the whole 'charging along side' made me remember Ostagar. A lot of mabari died then. I wondered how many Knight's Guardians died during the Fall of the Dales.

Velanna, thankfully, didn't notice. 'Most fell in the defense of the Dales, though. I wonder if they all received their proper burials in Din'an Hanin.'

'The last ones to fall might not have.' I knew the stories. Din'an Hanin, the final resting place of the Emerald Knights. Assuming the shemlen didn't destroy it or appropriate it for something, it had to be abandoned and ruined. In either case, you'd need an army to try and recover anything from it. 'Though, hopefully, the shemlen gave them proper burials by their standards.'

'How do the shemlen deal with their dead again?'

'They burn them. Well, most do. Nuada mentioned that other places might do it differently. Nev something.'

'Why would they waste that life?'

'Well, demons can't inhabit ashes?' I grinned at her scowl. 'Or we can go with the whole shemlen are weird thing. I still go with that explanation, sometimes.'

'Shemlen are weird and thieves, though the ones around here aren't so bad. Maybe.' Velanna paused, tapping the page with her pen. I stretched out my legs to keep them from going numb. 'You are like them.' She flushed when I gave her a weird look. 'Not the shemlen. The Emerald Knights.'

It took a moment to write down a reply. 'How so?'

'You have always been the pride of Sabrae, but not look at you. You are a hero , Cleon. The Hero of Fereldan, and a hero to the Dalish.' The words reminded me of those songs Leliana jokingly tried to make. At least, I hoped she'd been joking. 'You saved the world.'

'With help.' My heart panged when I thought of why I survived to hear such weird praises. There had been absolutely nothing on Morrigan since Nuada saw her, as a cat, waiting to make sure I'd woken up. 'Besides, I am just a Dalish and a Warden, same as you. I'm no one special.'

Velanna gave me a slightly disbelieving smile, but she did change the subject. 'So I have been curious on something.' She hesitated before writing, 'Merril' I sharply shook my head. I would not talk about it. I couldn't. 'Your vallaslin.'

'What about my vallaslin?' I reached up to them, suddenly worried that they'd been altered somehow. Fenarel hadn't mentioned anything, but killing the Archdemon… though he could have just been polite. So, I studied Velanna's to see if hers were different. She wore somewhat unique vallaslin, one used mostly in her Clan, but it didn't look any different.

While I studied, Velanna wrote. 'I have always wondered why you chose a simple version of Mythal's. The branches under that stretch from below the eyes to the temple. Considering how you always were careful to honor Andruil…'

'Mythal is the Protector, and I wished to protect the Dalish.' Though, it seemed like Mythal had wished for me to protect the world, not just the Dalish. 'That was all. If you are wondering why it is the simple version, Marethari chose that.' I would've endured the complex version, with the branches all across my forehead as well, but she had whispered that she didn't want to call too my attention to the Creators, for fear of them stealing me away. 'Why?'

'I have always been curious, is all.' She shrugged, glancing away awkwardly. I frowned a bit, not really associating 'shyness' with her. 'Do you remember the story of the dog and Fen'harel?'

'Of course.' It had been one of Merrill's favorites. 'Why?'

'How did it go again?'

We spent the rest of the morning recalling old stories and bits of history amidst the garden. It was close enough to the old days, before the Blight, that it soothed my aching heart. I missed my Clan, my family, dearly. I hoped… to see them again. Someday.

In the afternoon, I handled paperwork for the Wardens while Nuada… well, Nuada was 'resting', which apparently translated to him working on budgets and the like in bed while I borrowed his desk. Both of us complained frequently of idiotic things, like people who thought Wardens should provide some of their own for some no-name noble's honor guard and people who thought a 'crystal chandelier', whatever that was, was an important part of the budget. I remained amused, though, by the fact that Nuada kept himself to one side, making room for Layla even when he was in bed alone. It was adorable, really.

'Are you sure you should be working at all?' I asked during a break. I had to pause in between signs to roll my wrists. They ached, and I had angry red marks from the pen. 'You are supposed to be resting.'

'I am perfectly fine,' Nuada replied. His signs were easy, even a bit lazy, and he was perfectly relaxed. I was inclined to believe him, except the whole 'Layla told him to rest' thing. 'Layla just wanted me to rest longer because of mental trauma, and I agreed because I just cannot win against her pouts.'

'Of course.' Still, I frowned. 'Mental trauma?'

'It isn't the first time I've been poisoned. It's not even the twentieth.' Nuada made a face and his signs became lighter, like he was telling a joke. 'A diplomat's son is a popular target for assassins, particularly when they're young.'

'Some days, I wonder why you are as sane as you are.' I smiled slightly when he laughed, bending forward slightly from the force. But I thought again about the terror in his eyes, back then. I had never seen him so scared, not even when we were dealing with the Archdemon. Then I remembered something, from so long ago that I half-felt like it had happened to a different person. Back when Highever fell, he had… 'You once snapped at Layla for paralyzing enemies.' And he had been very descriptive about it.

'I remember that more as an argument against why it is any better than killing, but I suppose my own experiences did bleed in there.' He straightened and looked back at me. 'Have I not told…?' He paused in signing, frowning contemplatively. 'No, I suppose I haven't told any of you. Layla only knows because of the Sloth demon.'

'About what?'

'When I was a child, an Antivan Crow masqueraded as a nurse and almost killed me through careful doses of poison. The final dose was a paralytic poison, much like the one here.' He signed the words lightly, but the dark look in his eyes screamed how traumatizing the incident was. 'While I slowly suffocated, she braided my hair and hovered knives over me, to emphasize how helpless I was.' He paused and closed his eyes briefly before continuing. 'I don't remember how I was saved, actually. I just remember being certain of death, and then suddenly I could breath again and Mother was cradling me.'

'Hovering knives?'

'She was a sadist.' He smiled bitterly. 'She couldn't kill me outright because of the employer's orders, but she wanted me to suffer. It took a while to recover, because she had been poisoning me for so long.'

'What happened after you recovered?'

'I attended social events like nothing had ever happened, of course. That was what was expected.' He signed them easily, but I genuinely wondered if this incident was why his old defense mechanism had been to deny and faking that everything was okay. But I couldn't ask. I doubted he could give an answer anyway. 'So, anyway, that's why Layla wants me to rest a bit more. She's fussing and spoiling me.'

'Think of it as penance for scaring us.' Though, that all did remind me of something. Something my conscience hated and annoyed the rest of me.

'Cleon, you okay?' Nuada frowned when I nodded. 'Are you… come in.' It took me a second to realize someone must have knocked on the door. 'Oh, hey, Nathaniel.' I twisted in my chair to see Nathaniel poke his head in. 'You done patrolling?'

'I am,' Nathaniel confirmed. 'All clear, thankfully. It's almost too quiet for comfort.' He actually signed the words, though they were clumsy. I had to look to Nuada for a couple, but it still made me smile. 'Though I'd check in and make sure you were listening to your wife.'

'Wife?' I repeated, glancing at Nuada. Nuada frowned, confused. 'He used 'wife'.'

'Oh, he said lover, so it was just a wrong sign,' Nuada explained. Still, he began blushing and I had to grin. 'Nathaniel, wrong sign there.'

'Oops,' Nathaniel apologized, smiling sheepishly. Still, he also grinned when Nuada's blush became more apparent. 'Still, maybe the sign was accidentally right?'

'Nathaniel!' Nuada was just getting redder and redder, and Nathaniel laughed and laughed. 'If you're here just to tease…'

'Actually, he can watch you because I just realized I forgot something I need to do,' I interrupted, waving to make sure I had his attention. I didn't really want to do this, but it was going to bother me if I didn't. 'I'll be back after I deal with it.'

Nuada gave me a worried look, but did smile and nod when I smiled reassuringly. So, I left Nathaniel and Nuada to bond again, and started hunting for Loghain. I didn't really want to and I even whispered a couple of prayers to the Creators that he'd already left. But it seemed like Fen'harel was the one who heard those prayers and decided, as usual, to play a grand trick on me. Not only was Loghain still here, but he was in the library reading, and not busy in the slightest. He looked up when I approached and got a servant to bring paper and pens as I sat down in front of him. He hadn't been with us long enough to learn the sign language. He likely never would.

'I wanted to thank you for chasing down the servant who served the poison,' I wrote. I made the words as sharp as I could to make it clear how much I didn't like this. 'And for interrogating them.'

'Just doing what I could, so that you and Layla could focus on Nuada ,' Loghain wrote back. His own writing was very easy, almost nonchalant. 'Figured he'd need it. He's inclined to hide behind a smile.'

'I've noticed.'

'They're realer now, though. His smiles. I'm glad. Maric and I always worried about that.' He shrugged, but I couldn't help but frown. It sounded like something a concerned family member would say. Of course, Nuada had considered him family, but… 'Something on my face?'

'I do not understand you.'

'Hopefully that means you won't make the same mistakes as me.' He studied me for a moment, and I debated whether or not I should just get up or not. However, he began writing again, and Ashalle would have my head if I were that rude. 'So, Morrigan.' I bristled instantly, but he still watched me closely. After a moment, he gave me a sympathetic, truly sympathetic, look. 'It is among the worst of feelings, letting someone you love go because you know it is the best thing.'

'How would you know that?'

'I loved Rowan, and I am the one who convinced her to be the queen. I knew she'd be good at it. And she was.'

It took a second to realize what he wrote and then realize what he wrote. But when I did, it… it broke a dam. It broke a dam and so, I just wrote. It was by no means coherent, but I wrote down all of my tangled thoughts, even as I wondered why I was trusting Loghain of all people with them. But I wrote. I wrote about Morrigan. I wrote about Merrill. I wrote about the rings I still wore, and how Fenarel had told me Merrill still wore the necklace I made her. How I didn't know if I loved Merrill-Merrill or just the memory and that life. How I felt my feelings for Morrigan waning and felt guilty for it. How I just wanted to know if Morrigan was okay, because I could figure out the rest if I knew she wasn't bleeding out in a ditch somewhere. On and on and on… the only thing I didn't mention was the child. My child. The child Morrigan and I had. Loghain didn't know about the Ritual, and I wouldn't tell him that. I only told Layla, Nuada, and Aiden, and that was how it was going to remain. That was our secret, and we would take it to our graves.

When I was done writing pages of nonsense, I shoved them at him, almost daring him to make fun of me. But he didn't. He instead read through the twisted words carefully, taking each one seriously, as seriously as Marethari would treat one of our prized books. He asked for clarification on a few points, mostly because I used elven word and he couldn't guess the meaning from context, and then continued to read. And it… it calmed me. I would never forgive him for Ostagar. I was uncomfortable around him and would probably always be. But he took this seriously, even when it was such a mess.

'On Morrigan, you shouldn't feel guilty for falling out of love,' he finally wrote, writing on a blank piece of paper. He checked through what I had written, making sure he had things correct, and then continues. ' It happens and is normal. You mention here that the two of you had more and more arguments, meaning that you were already heading towards separation. Then she left, which put a definite finality to it. So, your heart is healing and letting that love fade. There is no shame in feeling pathetic over it, though, and there's no shame in wondering if she is okay.'

He went back to reading through what I wrote, taking his time, and I read through his words again, feeling unsettled that he had summarized the chaotic mess so neatly. At the same time, I felt relieved. I felt relieved that someone could summarize it. I felt relieve that there was someone older and… well, I questioned Loghain's wisdom, but still.

'As for Merrill, I'd honestly suggest trying to reconnect with her.' Loghain still wrote carefully, double-checking my words to make sure, again, he hadn't misread something. 'Eventually, that is. Things are a little busy, and likely will remains so. But you should find her again, and rebuild your friendship. That'll help you with separating the memory from the person. It'll also help her. You four changed a lot in three and a half months. I know because I expected the children I saw in the camp, and… well, not the adults you were during the Landsmeet.'

'I suppose we startled a lot of people,' I wrote, unable to resist the borderline-bitter retort. I was very aware of how different things were now. 'I feel like an idiot.'

'This is probably the most normal I have ever seen you lot, which might be why you feel ridiculous.' He smiled bitterly before writing the next lines. 'Thanks to the Blight, and my own idiocy, you all got trapped into roles that… well, you're very suited for, but honestly, you should've had a couple more years of flailing about into maturity before taking up those roles. You do well, but now, you struggle with normality. The traumas carve deep.' His smile warmed as he wrote the next lines. 'You're fine, Cleon. Flail about. It's what young people are supposed to do. And anyone that tries to talk you down for it… well, kill them for their idiocy. You'll be doing the world a favor.' That startled a smile out of me. 'Might I see the rings?'

My answer was to take off my glove and hold out my hand. I wouldn't take them off. I couldn't. They were to reassuring for me to. He seemed to understand, though, because he didn't look annoyed. Instead, he studied them as best as he could.

Eventually, he smiled and wrote again. 'Fine work.'

'Ma serranas.' I made sure to write that before pulling my glove on again. Then I continued. 'I'm not sure where Morrigan got hers, though it's more to make sure I didn't get too caught up in trouble. Merrill carved the other one, though she had help.' Tamlen had helped her. I remembered him teasing us, after she had given it to me.

'If Morrigan's is supposed to ward trouble away, I think you need to get the spell renewed.' It took a second to realize he was joking, and I had to smile at it. I covered my mouth to hide it, but still. 'How are you feeling?'

'Better.' It was still a mess, but I at least had a path. 'Ma serranas. Again.'

'Glad to help.' He tilted his head to the side and looked up. I followed his gaze and saw Anora walking around, clearly looking for something. Or someone. 'Anora is looking for me, it seems.'

'You should go see.'

'Thank you.' Loghain smiled and nodded a goodbye, standing up and heading towards her. I watched them interact, no signs but the genuine warmth in their smiles and expressions spoke of all the love in the world. Regardless of what happened, their affection was clear.

When they disappeared from my sight, I gathered up all the papers, to make sure no one would read them. This was my business and I'd tell my friends with my own words. After I thought about it all a little more, using Loghain's advice as guidance. Part of me hated that I had to rely on him. But the rest of me was just relieved to have finally talked to someone, and be reassured. To not have to be the leader and the reliable one. To not burden my friends with this mess of thoughts, though I knew they'd never view it as burdens. I knew because I never considered them burdens either.

But it was nice to just… get advice. Like a normal person. Even if the source was someone I wasn't sure I'd ever like.

Lyna wrote letters much the same she talked when she was in a particularly good mood. With barely any sort of coherence. Thankfully, I had years of experience in deciphering my twin's ramblings, so I made it through her letter before too long, though I did have to devote almost a full morning to the task. That was fine, though, as relaxing in my own room wasn't something I'd been able to do much. There was always something to be done. Besides, it gave me an excuse to 'not be found' when Loghain left earlier.

I leaned back in my desk chair, shifting to try and avoid my ass going numb from all the sitting I'd been doing, and read through her letter again. Lyna talked rather happily about everything, though I could see the sadness lingered in between the lines. She missed Tamlen greatly and mourned him keenly. Which made sense, of course. It hadn't even been a year. It reminded me, though, that I hadn't told her 'the truth' about Tamlen's death, though I had told my friends. I hadn't told her how he'd been transformed into a ghoul, a thrall to the darkspawn and the Archdemon, and I'd strangled him to death. I'd even given her a variation of his last words, just to hide that fact. If I closed my eyes, I could still feel his fingers tracing out words…

I shook my head sharply, and focused back on Lyna's letter, determined to not lose myself in nightmares. Particularly since she talked so lovingly of Athela, her adorable daughter I planned on spoiling rotten. She talked of how Ashalle adored watching Athela while she tended to her duties as an official 'advisor' to Alistair, though she also mentioned how Ashalle would probably join the new settlement in the Hinterlands when Athela was a little older. She then bounced to talk about how much fun she was having with Neria, Aiden's cousin and Layla's friend, and how she adored listening to Valendrian. I knew it was because he reminded her of Hahren Paivel, because she put an emphasis on the stories.

She ended the letter with a 'I miss you and love you, so come by soon', followed by a couple of rough sketches of her and Athela. There was an arrow pointing to drawing-Athela with the words 'she misses her uncle!' attached to it. It made me smile even as I reluctantly set the letter to the side. I wanted to reply immediately, but decided I first wanted to get them something to send with it. It felt proper, like all the gifts the Clan had given me…

I had them all set up on the desk with me, just to give myself something nice to look at. Which I did, absently playing with the wooden beaded necklace I always wore, the one 'heirloom' from my father. The hunting knife Ashalle had given me, used during the Blight whenever we had meat. The small halla figurine from Maren, though with a couple of scratches because of all the running we did. The seeds Fenarel gave me, which I thought I should give to Layla and Velanna for the garden. Part of me wished I still had the coins Master Ilen had given me, but those had been spent long ago, sadly. I wore the gloves Merrill had given me, of course, but they needed a repair thanks to all the abuse they went through thanks to all the fighting. I wore the bracelet Marethari gave me as well still, somehow still whole despite everything, a reminder that I had family who would always be there for me, no matter where I went. 'Somehow still whole' actually was a phrase that could be associated with all the trinkets. After all, despite everything, I hadn't actually lost a single one. A small miracle from the Creators, that.

My eyes last fell on the framed portrait of my parents, tucked into the corner. Set in front of it was the cracked hilt of one of my mamae's daggers, the one I killed the Archdemon with. The force or whatever had completely shattered the blade, so I had to leave it here. The other one, though, I still carried. There was nothing wrong with carrying three daggers, after all. Between it and Father's necklace, I could almost pretend they were watching over me, with the same kind, warm smiles they had in the picture. It amused me, though, how much like our parents both Lyna and I looked. I took after Father, and she'd taken after Mamae.

Back in a happy mood, I stretched my arms above my head and tilted my chair back a bit to stretch. I nearly fell over, but no one was here to see the lack of grace, thankfully, so after the moment of panic, I quickly settled down and picked up another of my letters to read. I smiled when I saw it was from Dagna, the dwarf girl who studied at Kinloch Hold now because of… well, frankly, because of a whim. Wynne had remembered promising to listen to her once they returned, and I'd gone along with her in a desperate need to stay away from all the political nonsense. Wynne hadn't been all that certain, probably because of the recent troubles, but she was just so enthusiastic that I couldn't help but argue for her to go. Wynne agreed pretty quickly and wrote a letter to help Dagna get in the door. Now, she studied all the magic she wanted and more and happily gushed about it in letters to me.

I didn't mind. Her enthusiasm was absolutely endearing, after all. So, I grabbed a pen and some paper and wrote back, mostly telling her what bits I knew about how the Dalish approached magic. Noticing her enthusiasm for fire, though, I made sure to warn her about how some apprentices would run around and ignore warnings. I felt I had to. Layla had told me of the incident that traumatized her to the point of being afraid of fire. I didn't want Dagna to go through the same. Aside from the mental trauma, it could get her kicked out and I didn't want that.

I'd just signed my name to the letter when I noticed a commotion outside through my window. Frowning, I grabbed my weapons and headed outside, watching the servants. They were nervous, but not 'we are under attack' nervous. They weren't running around with wild eyes, just skittish. So, I took my time heading into the courtyard, though when I got there, I wondered if I should've gotten there sooner. It was absolutely crowded and I had no real means of identifying the problem. I looked for people I knew, and saw Nathaniel holding a particularly annoyed Velanna back. Anders wasn't far away, and he wasn't busy, so I walked over to him and poked his shoulder. He jumped and nearly fell, but he recovered after a moment and got someone to bring him pen and paper.

'Sorry, not even going to try with the sign language right now,' he wrote, smiling apologetically. I waved my hand to reassure him that it wasn't an issue. 'I don't know how you all learned so quickly.'

Since there was sadly only one pen, I took it from him to reply. 'I think it helped that we made it up by mashing together what signs we did know. You'll pick it up quicker than you think.' I smiled at him briefly before continuing. 'Sorry for startling you.'

'You move like a damn shadow sometimes.' Anders rolled his eyes, but I couldn't help but be happy to hear that. I'd once prided myself for that. Now, I had no way of knowing if I still did it or not. 'Did you get to see any of the show?'

'No.' I glanced around, feeling almost uncomfortable by all the people crowded about. It was too hot, and there was too much to look at. 'What happened?'

'Some of the locals decided to protest the lack of food or something. Pretty sure someone stirred them up.' Anders gave me a knowing look and I closed my eyes briefly to keep from sighing. Those damn conspirators… 'They almost got fireballed in the face. Velanna had been talking with Layla about the Andraste statue when they came up and was very annoyed when they started yelling at Layla.'

'So that is why Nathaniel is holding her back.' I was rather happy Velanna wanted to defend Layla. Though, she might've just been annoyed at them interrupting the conversation. 'How is it going?'

'Layla just convinced them to stand down, so Oh, they're dispersing.' Anders nudged me before pointing, so that I could see. Thanks to the crowd shifted to watch, I also found a clear path to Layla. 'Well, this was a fun distraction for the morning.'

'Clearly we need more to do around here.' I grinned at Anders and patted him on the back before following that path to Layla, a bit worried for her since this had to be stressful. I didn't see Nuada around, which confused me since I expected him to be by to support Layla, but Anora was, talking with Layla with a proud smile. Between that, and Layla signing out of habit, I was able to piece together that Anora was praising her for how she handled it, though there was some worries.

Despite facing away from me, Layla actually caught sight of me before Anora did, and beamed at me. 'Well, that was invigorating,' she joked. She leaned into my side when I slung my arm around her shoulder, though, telling me she was more drained that she let on. 'Anora and Varel are worried it will encourage them to riot more, though.'

'We'll figure something out if they try,' I reassured. I didn't ask how she placated them. It didn't matter. 'Surprised Nuada isn't about.'

'Anora was just explaining that, I think.' She focused again on Anora, who looked genuinely amused by something. 'What was it?'

'I swung by Nuada's room on the way out to ask if he needed help getting outside,' Anora explained. Her smile softened. 'He replied that he knew you would be able to handle it, that he would be proudly watching from the window, and that it would be much easier to play infirm and give you a perfect excuse to not be seen for a couple of hours while recovering.'

'He knows me well,' Layla replied. Her smile was bright, though a touch exasperated. She would've liked him beside her, but at the same time, he really did anticipate what she'd need afterwards. 'Can I get away with disappearing for a bit?'

'Given the chaos? Of course. I can let Varel know that you need the rest of the morning to yourself, if you would like.'

'Thank you!' Layla smiled brightly at her before turning to me. 'You want to join us?'

'I'll actually take Nathaniel and make sure no assassins are about first,' I signed, already getting on my tiptoes to try and catch his eye. Thankfully, he seemed to be looking for me and pointed to the wall. At my nod, he went ahead towards it. 'Just in case. I am going to treat this like the Landsmeet and all the damn assassins.'

'Howe certainly ruined the treasury between that and embezzling,' Anora sighed. She looked distinctly irritated, and I wondered what it was about. How she hadn't been as in control as she thought? All the damage? I had no idea, and knew better than to ask. 'These conspirators will probably think like him, sadly.'

'So, I will get on that.' I ruffled Layla's hair and she smiled at me. 'You take that much needed break, okay? I'll swing by later.'

To our surprise, we did actually find one 'assassin' attempting to set up, plotting to snipe Layla with a crossbow bolt. Nathaniel and I bound him up for questioning and then told Anders to check everything for poison. Again. Fen'harel's teeth, I knew I shouldn't be surprised at shemlen making things far more complicated than they needed to, but I was sincerely hoping Elgar'nan would blast them or something for the sheer stupidity of it all.

Later that afternoon, Aiden returned. Of course, no one told me that. I learned because I was walking down the hall, minding my own business, and nearly got run over by a strangely frantic Aiden. So frantic that he actually didn't even notice. I stared after him for a moment before looking around and finding Sigrun not far away. She looked just as confused as me and shrugged.

'Scout said something to him on the way in,' she signed, shifting her bag to her elbow to make it easier. At least, that's what I thought. She favored the Orzammar Warrior Caste signs more than the others, and I was the least skilled in reading those, for now. I worked with Oghren to better my comprehension. 'No clue what. He played calm until the person was out of sight and then bolted faster than a starving nug.'

'Anything abnormal with the Dark Wolf's information?' I asked, wondering if that had something to do with it. She shook her head, though, so I mentally cursed. 'Mind me being rude and chasing after him?'

'Nah, don't worry about it.' She even waved her hand to dismiss the 'rudeness'. 'I'm just going to get something to eat. I'm starving.'

'Ma serranas.' So, I took off after Aiden, following the trail of bewildered soldiers all the way to Nuada and Layla's room. Aiden was in there, sitting by the bed, looking strangely like a rag doll in the chair. Nuada was focused completely on reassuring him, based on the smile and the kind eyes.

Layla was also there, likely checking in on Nuada, and she was the one who saw me first. 'Apparently, whoever told Aiden that Nuada had been poisoned neglected to mention that Nuada had fully recovered,' she explained, signs a bit stiff. I just facepalmed, finally understanding Aiden's haste. He'd expected to see Nuada dead or lingering in front of Falon'din. 'Aiden is mumbling curses I cannot hear very well, and Nuada is just reassuring him that everything is okay.'

'I guessed the latter, and do not blame the former,' I replied, expression droll to better convey how done I was. Who left out that part of a report? 'Your signs are stiff. You good?'

'My hands and wrists hurt from all the writing I have to do. Nuada was massaging them when Aiden burst in.' She smiled ruefully. 'I am reminded that I did more reading than writing at the Circle.'

'Oh, I hear you on the writing.' It was amazing how much paperwork there was, really. 'Okay, so nothing is on fire. Someone is just an idiot.'

'Precisely.' Layla's smile warmed when she turned to the other two. 'Is everything well now?'

'I wish I had gotten that messenger's name so that I can yell at them, but otherwise, yes,' Aiden replied. The dark look and sharp signs gave the words a distinct growl. 'For somewhat lighter news, I saw Wynne in Amaranthine.'

'You did?' Layla asked, face lighting up. She sat down on the bed, next to Nuada, and I sat down on the corner by Nuada's feet, since Aiden had the only chair. 'What is she doing there?'

'Apparently, on her way to some meeting? I forgot where she said, but there's a movement for the Circle to break away from the Chantry.'

'…No one would allow that.' Layla frowned. 'It would result in a war, and it is too soon after what happened in Kinloch Hold.'

'Yeah, Wynne thinks it'll die on the floor, but wanted to get the warning out because knowing us…' Knowing us, we'd somehow be involved in the aftermath. 'Other than that, though, she's doing well. Got gifts… somewhere…' He frowned a moment before dropping his head. 'Right, they're in Sigrun's bag.'

'We can get them later. Did you get good information from the Dark Wolf? We got some from the attempted assassins.'

'…Assassins? Plural?!' Aiden half stood, but Nuada rested a hand on his shoulder. 'Argh! Humans! Nobles!'

'It truly baffles me how little intelligence some of my fellows have,' Nuada replied with a bitter smile. Something told me he wasn't as baffled as the rest of us. 'But we can discuss their lack of self-preservation another time. Aiden, you have information?'

'Yes, I do,' Aiden confirmed. He muttered something under his breath, which made Nuada laugh hard enough to fall back against the pillows and made poor Layla horribly confused. 'Why am I not surprised you know the expression, Lord Nuada?'

'You know and love me, obviously.' Nuada grinned and shook his head at Layla and me. 'It is a bit of a… it's a curse that'll require a lot of explanation.'

'Sadly.' Aiden smirked a little and slumped in his chair, finally relaxing. 'But yes, I have some very good information. Their location.'

'Oh, that is nice.' Nuada studied Aiden, though, frowning. 'You found out something else.'

'Remember that Warden? Missing in the…' Aiden took my hand to spell out a word. B-L-A-C-K-M-A-R-S-H. Blackmarsh. He then signed the two words; the pause had been to let me know it was a place, and not a particularly inky marsh. 'So, we have, guess what, two places. Again. How do we always end up with that?'

'Well, the first split had been to not reduce our numbers too much and as a compromise because Layla wanted to go to the Circle and Cleon wanted to go to the Dalish.'

'I remember that,' Layla laughed, her signs light, despite the stiffness. She and I shared a smile. 'I was so surprised you defended my request, Nuada.'

'I just pointed out the logic of going there sooner rather than later,' Nuada replied. His signs were sure, but he looked off to the side, embarrassed. 'It was a good thing we arrived when we did, though. The same could be said of our timing with the Dalish.'

'We have the most interesting timing.' Layla quickly grew sad, though, and it was easy to know why. How many people died because we didn't happen to be nearby? A lot. 'Regardless, I will either deal with the conspirators or… stay here to work. I will have to confer with Varel before deciding.'

'I will definitely be going to the Marsh,' Aiden signed, looking very reluctant. And mildly annoyed. 'I am the Commander. Whoever this person is, they are mine. I have to go.'

'Technically, they're 'ours', since I am your Warden-Constable, so I will go with you,' Nuada added. He frowned when both Aiden and I gave him skeptical looks. 'I have told you that I am perfectly well. I'm only resting because Layla asked. I'm actually about to go mad.'

'Madder.'

'Yes.' Nuada completely shrugged off the correction, and that made Aiden and Layla laugh. I hid my own grin behind my hand. 'Besides, Cleon is our sneaky assassin. If worse comes to worse, he can just gut them.'

'Gladly,' I instantly retorted. I twisted around and laid down on Nuada's legs, too tired of sitting. Layla immediately began braiding parts of my hair. It amused me that Nuada and I had the longest hair of us four. His still fell to his hips, while mine was just a bit shorter. Aiden cut his short, and Layla's… well, hers never seemed to grow past the middle of her back. 'I will just need someone with me, to make sure I don't miss some auditory cue.'

'Sigrun would probably be best for that,' Aiden mused, frowning thoughtfully. He leaned back in his chair, took off his boots finally, and stretched his legs out over Nuada's lap. 'I noticed when we were walking. She is very sneaky. So is Nathaniel, but I don't think Nathaniel helped out with assassinations.' He suddenly jumped, and probably yelped, when Nuada tickled his feet. 'Lord Nuada!'

'I'm sorry; I couldn't resist,' Nuada replied with a cheeky grin. It became truly apologetically when Aiden scowled. 'I won't do it again. Promise. So, Sigrun is to stay and help with the conspirators. We probably want Anders to stay as well, just in case we get another poisoning.' He signed 'another' twice, looking significantly more annoyed on the second one. 'So, Velanna, Oghren, and Nathaniel will come with us.'

'But will that leave you two without a healer?' Layla asked worriedly. Her eyes went to the still scabbed bite mark on Nuada's neck. I shuddered, remembering that fiery golem thing. 'I do not want you all…'

'Velanna does know healing magic,' I brought up reluctantly. Reluctant, because I was with Layla. I'd honestly rather Anders go with them. But I couldn't fault the logic of leaving Anders here in case of more poisonings. 'She is not as good of one as you and Anders, but she is very skilled. And her magic with the plants should help them if they get lost.' I remembered Marethari and Merrill using their magic to make sure we didn't venture too deep in the Brecilian Forest, at least. 'Is the Blackmarsh a place where you can get lost? It sounds horrible.'

'It's got one main path, if I recall correctly, but that could just be one path that is cleared and we will have to go off the path,' Nuada signed. He closed his eyes, clearly trying to remember anything he knew. 'It's a pretty desolate area, though at one point, it actually had a very bustling village, ruled by a Baroness, with a small port and everything. Then, on day, it just vanished. Nothing but burned ruins and no sign of life.'

'That…' I frowned and glanced at Layla. Her grimace told me she had the same guess I did. 'That sounds like magic.'

'Well, between that, sightings of strange creatures, and eerie lights, people believe it's haunted.' Nuada opened his eyes again and looked annoyed. 'It is horribly damp and cold as well. So, if we come down with colds, I am sorry in advance.' I nodded, but Layla and Aiden frowned in confusion. '…I just switched languages, didn't I?'

'How is it that you never noticed?'

'It started by taking advantage of how people tend to view multilingual people and turn that expectation into an endearing quirk that made them underestimate Elspeth and me. Now it is a habit that neither of us can break because we did it too long.' Nuada sighed, though Layla, Aiden, and I shared an uncomfortable look. 'It happens mainly when I have to think fast. Otherwise, I'll notice that I can't remember a word.'

'Like three. And kitten. And-'

'Yes, yes!' Nuada scowled, but softened quickly. 'Maybe I can finally start trying to break that habit, though. I might be able to with you all.' Those… those words held a lot of weight from him. It meant he didn't feel the need to hide anymore, that he was 'safe enough' with everyone that he could lose some of his defense mechanisms. 'Why are all of you looking at me like you just saw a particularly cute mabari puppy do something adorable?'

'Well, you are adorable,' Layla instantly replied, leaning forward to kiss his cheek for emphasis. He went red, and looked down to try and hide his dopey smile. 'I will explain later, as I am sure Aiden and Cleon had the same reasons. Are there other things to discuss?'

'I have a question,' I began, recalling something. 'Layla, at Ostagar… yes, I know, ir abelas.' I had to apologize when everyone winced. 'Communication thing?'

'You have to keep yourself partially open to the Fade for it to work.' Layla grimaced. 'The original plan had been me, on watch, and Wynne, a healer who could step away briefly. So, it would work fine then. But with circumstances as they are…'

'We'd have better luck getting Falon'din and Dirthamen to betray each other.' It took me a second to realize their blank looks were because they had no idea that the two Creators were twins. 'They are incredibly loyal to each other. I probably should've just said we'd have better luck betraying each other.'

'Yes, we would.' Layla smiled softly. 'So, sadly…'

'Right. Not a thing to use, then.' I smiled when Layla went back to braiding my hair. 'Anything else?'

'Well, we got a letter from…' Nuada began. He took my hand to spell out a name. A-D-A-N. Adan. 'He's the royal alchemist. Elspeth and Alistair asked him to make us up a bunch of potions and bombs and what not. When we combine it with whatever Anders has made as well as…' He spelled out another name on my hand. D-W-O-R-K-I-N. Dworkin. The sign he used was, basically, 'mad bomber'. 'Between all of that we should, in theory, be okay.'

'Please don't almost die,' I begged. I felt myself half-nodding off due to Layla playing with my hair. 'Again.'

'I feel like that sentence could be said to most of us.' Nuada gave us all pointed looks, and we sighed in silent agreement. 'But we have been much too dour and, believe me, I am damned tired of dour. Let's talk of happier things, shall we?'

Slowly, we all began simply sharing gossip. Some old stories. Newer ones I talked about the gate mechanism below. Nuada and Layla mentioned all the repairs to the Keep. Aiden described Amaranthine and more about what he and Wynne had talked of. Eventually, I started nodding off, but no one cared. I'd just wake up to bunches of braids, if the others didn't fall asleep too. It had been a long couple of days, after all. They would only get longer.

Fen'harel, if you could stop with the tricks, I'd be grateful.

Chapter Text

Chapter 13) 'Heroes'

Layla POV

She watches them leave from the window, going to confront the conspirators. Layla had talked extensively with Varel and her, debating whether or not Layla should go or not. Ultimately, she thought Layla should. After all, Layla had proved her kindness already, through dealing with the little 'revolt' they had. Now, Layla need to prove that she had an iron will. Every rose has its thorn, and every proper lady is steel wrapped in silk. Layla had to embody that, if she was going to survive politics.

Rose… Empress Celene once called her that. 'The Solitary Rose among Brambles.' Ha, how far she has fallen. Well, not really. Being the Teryna of Highever is honestly not that much of a step down from queen. But it is a step down and it rankles her. She had wanted to be queen. It pains her that the Landsmeet had turned against her. Part of her feels like they were ungrateful for all she had done. The rest of her acknowledges that she probably hadn't done nearly enough, since they did turn.

It is painful, realizing you weren't as right as you thought. It is painful to realize you contributed to the pain of your own home. So, she does what she can to help still, worried about all the new leadership and how Fereldan would fare in the coming years.

" Teryna Cousland." Varel joins her by the window and it takes her a moment to remember that the term applies to her. Instinctually, she looked for Eleanor, but Eleanor is gone. So many are dead. It almost drives her mad, seeing so many gone. She wishes she was a little girl with pigtails and skinned knees, when she could curl up with her father and be reassured. But those days are gone. She's too old for such nonsense. "I imagine things will be quieter, once they're done," he continues, giving her time to recover her calm. He's a good man. She can see why Howe made sure to get him out of the way as soon as possible. "Well, so long as the darkspawn let us."

" We should perhaps prod the nobles for more troops here," she replies, already thinking. They had to be prepared for anything. "I have a few favors I think I can still call in."

" Perfect. Shall we? There's also the Oathbreaker process to continue."

"Of course."

The conspirators were in a lovely cabin just off the road. It belonged to a farmer who evacuated due to the fighting, and had not yet reclaimed his home. Sigrun and Cleon scouted around, disabling traps and the like. Anders and I hung back, waiting for the 'all-clear'. He had tried to make conversation, but I did not reply, simply waiting rigidly. I also ignored his (rightfully) worried looks, focused entirely on the cabin.

Finally, Cleon and Sigrun returned. "The door is locked, but everything else is…" Sigrun began. I softened slightly at seeing her signing, and glanced at Cleon to make sure he was following. His nod reassured me. "What's that surfacer saying? Right as something?"

"Rain," Anders supplied. He also signed, and I noticed that he favored the Kinloch Hold signs in our odd mash-up. "Right as rain. Though, I've only heard that saying in a health context."

"Still don't really get how rain works. Why does water fall out of the sky?"

"Oh, that's-"

"I didn't mean actually tell me." She scowled and Anders grinned, unrepentant. "Why do you even know?"

"Magic can wreak havoc on the weather. One of the most powerful spell combinations is a storm, actually. Storm of the Century." He stared as Cleon facepalmed and I looked to the side sheepishly. "Layla, did you cast it?"

"Morrigan and I did?" I squeaked. I still felt horrible about it. Even though it worked wonderfully, it did almost hurt my friends. "But we… ah… underestimated the strength. Severely." I caught Cleon's hands when he brought him up to sign. "He doesn't need to know how badly! Besides, we have a purpose here."

'Since when does that stop us from joking around,' Cleon snarked as soon as he got his hands free. He winked when I scowled. 'Regardless, though, how to we open the door? Sigrun can pick it, if we want to go the subtle route.'

"I have a fire rod we can use to melt the lock."

"You have what?" Anders asked, giving me a weird look. He was the only one here who knew how much of a pain it could be to obtain one. "Why, exactly, do you have that?"

"I got it when I helped Jowan break into the repository to destroy his phylactery," I explained lightly. I rummaged through my pack and pulled it out for emphasis. "Then bunches of things happened, so I never got around to returning it."

"...You did what."

"It was before I knew him being a blood mage was actually the truth." I scowled, feeling horribly bitter. The whole thing with Jowan still did hurt terribly and I could not help but wonder if Lily might have fared better if I had not played along. "Can we move on? There is the lock, the fire rod, or we can be really dramatic and simply tear the door off the hinges."

"We could just set the place on fire. Boom." Anders looked into his pack. "I've got explosives. So, we can really make a boom, if we want drama."

"We are not exploding them to the Black City, Anders." I glowered at him. "I do not want the land damaged, Anders. We have no idea what shrapnel will result."

"It's a tiny cabin! It's not like we're blowing up a big building." He sighed when I deepened my glower into an outright glare. "Okay, okay. Not that dramatic. Sigrun, Cleon! Opinion on drama."

'I am a hunter,' Cleon instantly signed, giving us one of the more exasperated looks I had seen him wear. It was not quite 'Nuada, you are being an idiot again' level, but it was rather close. 'I also have training as an Assassin and a Shadow. My source of battle dramatics is appearing out of nowhere to kill someone and disappearing again.'

"And dramatics were normally reserved for bait in the Legion," Sigrun added, shrugging. She was absolutely nonchalant. It was like she had seen everything, and just rolled with things. "Never had to kill idiots for being stupid before. We're allowed to have a bit of fun with it, right? Something to make their last moments exciting? Or is that rude here?"

'Is it any more rude than botching so many assassination attempts?' He poked my cheek when I brought up my hands to respond. 'Zevran doesn't count. He planned on dying to us.'

"No clue who you're talking about."

'Aiden's lover.'

"His lover is an assassin who tried to kill him?" Sigrun and Anders both gave us weird looks. Cleon and I just shrugged because, honestly, it was not the weirdest thing that happened to us. "Oh, whatever. Dramatics. Let's be dramatic before they leave."

I leapt at the idea and used Telekinesis to rip the door off its hinges. Cleon and Sigrun used the chaos to dart around the sides as people raced out, wondering what was going on. Anders supported them as they picked off everyone. I walked past and strolled into the house to see if any had stayed. One had: Esmerelle. According to the Dark Wolf's information, she was actually the leader of this little group.

"Good morning, Esmerelle," I greeted, making sure to smile. Esmerelle glared and her hand slowly crept towards a knife on the table behind her. "I do not know what you expected. It is not as if I do not have allies." I regarded her cooly, anger pooling in my belly. I could not believe she did this. How dare she? "I have already begun the legal process to have you declared Oathbreaker."

"Upstart… little bitch…" Esmerelle growled out. I raised an eyebrow, ignoring the chaotic battle outside the little house. I did not want to be arrogant and give her an opening, but at the same time, I could not believe that was her best insult. "Degrading Arl Howe, who was so good to us…"

"You side with someone who slaughtered his 'best friend' and liege lord in the middle of the night, as well as all the servants and children. You side with someone who purged the Alienage, locking up orphans and setting their home aflame." I crossed my arms, just… angry. I was so angry. "It was only a matter of time before he decided to turn on you, you know. He was very 'good' to the Couslands and look how he betrayed them."

"They're traitors!" Esmerelle spat out the words, and I bristled. She had no right to say that. She, who did not help us during the Blight, who tried to kill us now out of a sense of entitlement, had absolutely no right to say that. "Chatting with Orlesians… siring heirs with foreign-"

"Silence. You are clearly..." I paused, and shook my head. "No, I will not call you delusional. That would imply there is something 'wrong' with you, that you are 'ill'. You are not. You are someone who thinks herself more important than everyone else around her. You are a product of a very corrupt system. You are also a complete idiot and forgot something important. I brought my hands up and conjured a single Spirit Blade. "Your Arlessa is a mage." I slowly moved my hand, letting the Blade move around Esmerelle slowly. She blanched, watching it, frozen in fear. "Do you know why mages are feared? I shall show you." I used a Glyph of Paralysis when she tried to attack me. "No. I think you should also experience the fate you tried to inflict on me, and the fate you almost inflicted on Nuada."

I used Telekinesis to knock her down, flat on her face, and then used the Spirit Blade to tear her apart. The first or second blow killed her, likely, but I kept stabbing and slashing, the blood spilling everywhere. I was sickeningly gleeful over it and I I had the thought to seize that blood to rip her apart further. But that thought made me freeze and then step back, letting the magic fade, because that terrified me. It honestly terrified me that I had gotten so close to breaking one of my own rules, just because I was so furious.

I nearly screamed when someone nudged my shoulder, but bit my lip in time when I saw it was simply Cleon poking me. He was splattered with blood, signs of the lives he had taken, and looked about curiously. His eyes fell on the remains, so mangled that it was hard to call it a 'body' anymore, and he nudged them, as if anyone could survive that. I braced myself for a wince or disappointment, but when Cleon looked up, he just held out his arms to silently offer me a hug and I took it without hesitation.

'Are you okay?' he signed, after a moment. I shook my head, still too angry and ill to speak. 'You were more terrified about Nuada's collapse than you let on, huh?'

"I… I will not pretend everything should be happily ever after," I began slowly. It was an effort to sign, but the effort helped me calm down again. "There is far too much to do. There will always be too much to do. We will never be allowed to simply rest. We will always be protecting people, always 'saving the world'. It is who we are, now."

'We will always have to work to be the heroes, to keep everything safe.' He understood. Of course he did. 'And then we have these idiotic shemlen, who tried to steal away what bits of happiness we have, because they felt entitled to more power. People we saved, we protected…' He signed both 'we's thrice for emphasis. 'And this is how we are thanked. We save the damn world…'

"I want at least a year with him, you know? I would like quite a bit more actually, but I would like at least one year." These people almost took him away from me. They almost took me away from him, and I knew Nuada. I knew that would have broken him, but he would have struggled to keep that smile even as the shards hit the ground. It made my heart ache. "I am certain you want more time with us as well." I still waited for him to nod in confirmation. "People are stupid. Why did we save everything again?"

'Someone had to. And we were the ones in the right place at the wrong time.' Cleon smiled bitterly. 'I wonder if this is how all the heroes felt, in the past.'

"I don't know." I sighed and grimaced as I finally noticed all the blood on me. "I want a bath."

'Let's leave, then. Sigrun and I can scout out a river.' He pulled me a little closer and steered me outside the cabin. 'What should we do with the bodies?'

"We can drag them back inside and Anders and I can set the place on fire. The wind can have their ashes." I snapped my fingers for emphasis and conjured up a tiny fireball. "I will listen to people with serious complaints, but I will not tolerate things like this again. I may be new to this, but I will not be a doormat."

If I was going to rule, then I was going to rule well. I vowed that, when Aiden begged me to take the Arlessa title because they were trying to make him take it. Dealing with one's enemies, sadly, seemed to be part of it. I would have to find my own way on it.

Sigrun and Cleon found a river a decent distance away from the ashy remains of the cabin, a nice river that was perfect for a bath. We made up camp there or, rather, Cleon and Anders did. Sigrun had not 'camped' with tents and the like with the Legion and I was still absolutely deplorable at setting up tents. So, instead, Sigrun went foraging, Anders helped Cleon do the basics before joining Sigrun, Cleon put the finishing touches on the campsite, and I relaxed in the river.

"I feel bad about making you two do everything, though," I half-complained, letting the river wash away the blood and the cold soothe my aching muscles. Once upon a time, I never would have considered bathing in a river. Now, here I was, completely uncaring. "Though, I suppose it is just you, since Anders and Sigrun went foraging."

'I am very used to it,' Cleon signed, after he finished setting up my tent. He winked at me and briefly cupped his hand around his mouth, like you did when you said a secret. 'Aiden is still really bad at it too.'

"One of these days, I should really learn, though. I cannot depend on everyone all the time." I squeaked when I accidentally splashed myself while signing. Cleon hid his smile behind his hand. "Yes, yes… you may tease me later."

"Who's teasing who?" Anders and Sigrun returned, arms full of various fruits and things. I half-wondered if they raided an abandoned house, or field. "We're back!" Anders announced, setting his portion of the food down. "Sorry we grabbed a lot. Everything looked really good, for some reason."

'Wardens apparently have to eat a lot,' Cleon signed. Duncan had mentioned that, once, though it was not until after the Blight that any of us actually noticed. 'And, you know, we just got done fighting. Burned a lot of energy.'

"I suppose."

"Of course, I don't think I know what some of these things are," Sigrun complained with a good natured smile. I swam a little closer, not wanting to get out quite yet, but wanting to be part of the conversation. "Okay, I kid. I do know. I just don't know how they're cooked."

"Well, thankfully, I'm actually decent at cooking," Anders declared proudly. He really was, though. I thought it was because he was good at alchemy and cooking was just… edible alchemy, or something. "We will have to prepare the food though, and… and I am distracted by Layla's awesome tattoo." He crouched by the shore to study it better. "It's very well done. Tucked neatly around those burn scars."

"Thank you~" I replied, grinning. I really did like it. It was a single griffon wing entirely on the left side of my back, at rest and fully on my back. "All five of us Wardens got tattoos, actually."

"Really?"

"Yes. Leliana might have gotten one as well, after the Blight ended." I glanced at Cleon, mostly for confirmation. "Did Wynne? I know Zevran offered."

'I think Wynne refused, on the grounds of not having a design she wanted. Leliana did, though.' Cleon grinned. 'It is of a very pretty bird. Night… something?'

"Oh, a nightingale!" I waved Cleon over to that I could spell the name out for him. I did not think we had sign for it. Well, we probably did, but we did not use it often enough for him to recognize quickly. "They are unique in that they sing at night as well as the day, hence their name."

"You see them symbolize poets a lot in literature," Anders added, glancing up at the sky as he thought. He would know more than me; he read more fictional books that I had. "A voice of nature and a muse for the bards or something." Cleon and I shared a knowing, if surprised, look. We knew Leliana was a Bard, of course, but if Anders was correct, it was quite appropriate. "I remember actually doing a report on that."

"Was that one of your detention essays?" I asked. I laughed when he rolled his eyes. "I knew it. Wynne made you do it, yes?"

"She always gave me creative punishments. I think she thought they'd help me more than others. Unfortunately, they were fun, so I got in trouble more often just to have the excuse!"

"Too much talk!" Sigrun laughed. She was separating out the food, and I caught her sneaking a bite to eat. She winked when she saw me looking, and I grinned back. "Cleon, can we see yours?" In answer, Cleon took off his shirt and pulled his hair to the side to make it easier to see the two small wings on his shoulder blades. "Oooo, nice~"

"It is, yes?" I replied, feeling rather chipper. I remembered that day well. It had been so much fun. "Nuada's takes up the right side of his back, a single griffon wing like mine, though his is partially unfurled and curves over his shoulder." I had fun tracing the lines, especially when he was asleep. It was just adorable. "Aiden's is a pair of wings on his lower back, which curve around his waist and hips."

"Why are they all on your back?"

"Well, Nuada got his first, and mine is on my back because I loved his so much." I glanced at Cleon, waiting until he put his shirt back on before signing to him. "Why is yours on your back?"

'I was last, remember?' he signed back. He tugged his hair out from under his shirt and shook it out. 'I think I went with the back just because the three of you did did. I compared the experience with getting my vallaslin, so it felt right to get mine in a similar location as the rest of you.'

"I wonder why Aiden got his on his back then," I murmured. Part of me wondered if it had just been another way Zevran had flirted with Aiden. "Alistair did not get his on his back. He has a crowned griffon on his left bicep."

"Isn't that the king?"

"He was not king yet, but yes."

"Subtle." Sigrun tried to slip another bite, but Anders caught her this time and conjured up a tiny little barrier to block the food from her mouth. "Hey! I'm hungry!"

We all shared a laugh and, while they got things set up for dinner, I finally got out of the river, dried off, and pulled on blessedly clean clothes. Afterwards, I made sure to put on my ring, the symbol of my being a Harrowed Mage, and the amulet Irving gave me. I paused after putting on the bracelet I'd gotten from Lily. I wondered how she was doing. Was she dead? Was she alive? Had anyone told her that Jowan was dead? Did she care anymore? Jowan… he had asked that, if I did see her, to tell her that he loved her until the end and that he was sorry. But I had no idea if I could ever deliver that message. I doubted the Chantry would let even a Warden into Aenor, after all. It all just made me sad.

But, this whole incident made me understand Jowan better. I could understand how anger at loved ones being in danger would make someone reach for blood magic, even when you swore to yourself that you would never use the magic. I could understand so much, and I was not sure I liked that. It made me feel all the guiltier, for how I reacted at the Tower, and for his death.

My head was a mess. I would forever hate Esmerelle for this.

It was decided, based on our location and the fact that it was barely afternoon, that we would deal with a hostage situation. A local lord's daughter had been kidnapped by some bandits, held for ransom. Her father, instead, asked us for assistance, so here we were, playing the heroes. Again. At least this time, we were more 'traditional' heroes, saving the damsel in distress.

'You know; this reminds me of something,' Cleon signed as we walked. Behind us, Sigrun and Anders chatted over the 'ceremony' for becoming one of the Legion of the Dead, with Sigrun being very evasive for whatever reason. It did not really matter. I was tempted to kick Anders's shin to remind him to be polite. 'The last time we walked down a road like this, you were asking me what everything was.'

"Oh, Maker, I did!" I laughed, though it did take a bit to remembering. It was a long time ago, back when Duncan was alive, before we had even met Aiden. "I had been so incredibly nervous and I hated being outside so much. I must have been so annoying."

'I was also very, very surly. I think we both were out of our comfort zones.' He ruffled my hair and I grinned. 'Besides, neither of us knew any of the items at that inn.'

"No, we did not!" I giggled, finding comfort in the memory. We had both been so confused and had honestly thought that would be the worst of it. "That was the first inn I had ever stayed at."

'Me too.' He grinned back. 'You were so happy about the bed!'

"I had never camped before leaving the Tower. I always had soft beds prior to that."

'You missed so much! Do you even know the stories of the stars?'

"Well…"

"Hey, Wardens!" The shout made me jump and whirl, Cleon as split-second behind me. "Finally got your attention," Sigrun noted with a grin. Anders covered up a snicker and I rolled my eyes. "Anyway, been trying to get your attention. Your group is used to isolating yourselves, but come on, talk!"

"That is…" I had no reply to that. I had not considered myself 'isolated' or anything. "What did you need?"

"I was thinking we'd head to Amaranthine after this. Since we kind of killed its ruler?" She grinned and I did have to nod, conceding the point. "Also, I don't think you've visited yet. Should show off the pretty Arlessa." She paused and looked up at Anders. "It's 'Arlessa', right? I'm still learning."

"It is," Anders confirmed, smiling. I was a little stuck on the 'pretty' part. Nuada thought me pretty, yes, but… "Though, I have no idea the difference between all the titles. Politics are not my speciality. But, regardless, Amaranthine has a beautiful market, places for fun..."

"And fun is important!" Sigrun added, nodding decisively. "I've noticed this, but you Wardens never seem to have fun."

"We laugh!" I protested instantly. I felt strangely defensive, even more so with Anders nodded, silently agreeing to Sigrun's statement. "We tease each other!" A quick glance showed Cleon was as defensive-uncomfortable as I was. He dug his fingers into his arms, holding off his own protests. "So…"

"Well, yeah. But I don't think I've seen you guys, once, just take a day off to do whatever. You're always doing something. Your fun consists of teasing in between jobs and cuddling when people finally let you take a break." Sigrun shrugged, shaking her head like an exasperated sister. "You need to live a little."

'This coming from the dead woman?' Cleon signed then, expression droll to make the words as dry as possible. I was glad he could reply, because I had no idea what to say. 'Really?'

"I know, right?" Sigrun instantly retorted, grinning. She was completely unrepentant. "Should emphasize how bad you guys are."

She and Cleon began arguing, and I actually switched places with her, so that she and Cleon were ahead and I was walking with Anders. "What do you think of what she said?" I asked him softly. He glanced away immediately, a sure sign that he was debating lying. "Anders."

"Well, I do feel like you all got so used to moving-moving-moving that you've forgotten how to relax," Anders reluctantly answered. He pulled me into a one-armed hug and kissed the top of my head, like he used to when we were in the Circle. "I've been worried, as a healer and as a friend. Of course, I'm still a bit more used to the Layla that stuttered whenever she had to talk to someone in authority, so..."

"I am afraid I am a bit different now."

"I noticed. Back at the Circle, we might have been a little group, but you were always bouncing between people, shy yet always wanting to learn about people. Here, you stick with your group of four, unless you have a job that requires you to talk to someone else." He rubbed my arm, and I had no reply. "Bit worrying."

"I feel like you all are making too much of a little thing." Though, I supposed the size of the Keep made it easier to keep distances from each other. We were not in tents just steps away from each other, nor did we have to set up watches. "You and I spend a lot of time together in the infirmary."

"Much as you and I enjoy healing, Layla, you have to admit that it's a job." He prodded my cheek and I sulked. "Have you spent any time with, say, Velanna?"

"Velanna is up at dawn and escapes into the gardens, scowling at everyone who is not Cleon. Nathaniel goes on patrol and quietly asks around about people he grew up with, including trying to figure out where his sister is. Oghren drinks or trains soldiers. Sigrun was with Aiden. You are either in the infirmary or working on bombs." I scowled and he grimaced, but nodding, conceding my point. "We are not exactly a cozy group." We were different from the group during the Blight. During the Blight, we were all united in a single purpose. Here… here, we were a very odd group thrown together while trying to figure out why the darkspawn were not retreating as they should.

Anders nodded, silently conceding my point, and fell silent, still half-hugging me. I let him, letting my thoughts wander a bit. I was not too certain on heading to Amaranthine for 'play', but seeing the city would be a good idea and I also… I had been thinking of what Loghain had said, about selling the elves because it was 'better than dying', but letting the humans die in freedom. That hypocrisy confused me, though I had no doubts I had some of my own, things I never even thought about. But I just could not understand why the Fereldan humans could hate Orlais so much, but treat the elves in their own country much the same way. After all, Loghain talked of random beatings, of rapes just for standing up for basic rights and I remembered how Aiden got involved with all of this. I remembered how no one helped.

I wanted to see the Alienage in Amaranthine. I wanted to talk to their hahren and work with them to better things. I could not assume that I knew what they needed. But I was their Arlessa, just as I was the humans' Arlessa. I had a duty to protect them too.

Soon afterwards, we came upon the cliffs where the bandits were gathered, holding a terrified young woman at knifepoint. I skipped ahead of the others, knowing that I looked the least threatening out of us. "Hello," I greeted warmly, making sure to smile. I had no idea what was going on. "I understand you have taken someone for ransom? I am Layla Amell, Warden-Arlessa of Amaranthine. This is Cleon Mahariel, the Hero of Fereldan, and these are-" I did not even get that far. As soon as they heard my name and Cleon's, they ran in absolute terror. A few even jumped off the cliff in their haste to escape us, leaving the formerly captured girl bruised, but fine.

...People were so weird.

Chapter Text

Interlude - Velanna

She can almost laugh at… everything. Of all the people they could have encountered on the way to the marshes, they had run into a Dalish Clan. Her Clan. Her… former Clan. Who made it all too clear that she is not welcome among them. Who told her that Ilshae, her… her second mother even if they argued so much, had passed. As if her life could get any worse. First, she led her friends to their deaths, then Serrani had been kidnapped. Then she had been tricked into killing innocent people. Even if they were shemlen, and she hated shemlen, there had been no reason to go after innocent people. All she had wanted was revenge for their attack on them! Revenge for the flames… for the injuries… for the deaths… She had been tired of just leaving. Of being the 'bigger person'. What was the point of being the 'bigger person' if all it got you was a blade in your back?!

Still, she had led them to their deaths. Ilshae is dead. She has no clan anymore. They will never welcome her back. They had made that perfectly clear.

The others in the group are quiet, and it makes her feel horribly awkward. But, at the same time, she sees that they're just being respectful. They recognize that she is hurting, in shock, and give her space while she figures out what she needs. They even came up with a good excuse to take a break, lunch. It is too early for it, but none of them had complained.

"Here." She blinks slowly at the voice and the mug suddenly in front of her face. "I just finished making some tea." She looks up and it takes her a moment to remember this shemlen's name. Nuada, with a bunch of titles that make little sense to her. "It's not as good as my sister's, but it should be palatable," he continues, smiling warmly. "Just ignore Oghren. He has no sense of taste."

"I always ignore him," she retorts. It's not exactly true, but the barb makes her feel a little better. "You have a sister?" She takes the mug from him and sips it. A bit too warm, and a bit weak for her tastes, but it is good.

"I have a younger twin, actually, like Cleon." Nuada silently asks if he can sit and she scoots over to let him. She hadn't needed to, since she is just sitting on the ground, but it's enough of an answer. "Her name is Elspeth. She's Fereldan's queen now."

"I see." She sips the tea again. "Did you come over just to give me the tea?"

"I wanted to give my sympathies as well." She almost retorts again, but he continues before she can. "I lost my mother during the Blight. When you were explaining to us earlier, I got the impression Keeper Ilshae was like a mother to you."

"...She was, yes." She studies Nuada a bit more, and notices for the first time the tiredness in his eyes, the sadness. "Did you happen to say harsh word to your mother, before she died?"

"No, I was lucky on that front. But I did leave her to die." His smile becomes bitter. "I'm… not recovered enough to really tell the story in full if I don't have to."

"Then don't." She wonders how someone could just leave another person to die, but the bitterness tells her that it's something he hates himself for. She thinks. She's never been the best with people. "...Thank you for the sympathy."

"Do you want to head back to the Keep?"

"No, I made a promise." She would work with the Wardens in exchange for being able to find her sister again. Seranni is all she has left now. "I'm not fragile."

"No, you're not. But I do know some of the dangers of pushing when you really want to break down." He pats her back and stands up again. "Nathaniel and Oghren are off on patrol, so we'll be resting for a while longer."

"Ma serannas." She nurses the tea and he leaves her be without another word. She watches him talk with Aiden, the… elf who leads the group. It confuses her. She had always thought the shemlen would rather die than let an elf order them. But she had seen shemlen defer to him numerous times back at the Keep, and she had heard of how skillfully he had led the armies during the Blight.

They continue talking for a while longer before Nuada leaves to do something and Aiden comes over to her. "I found this in the market," he explains, passing her a leatherbound book. She sets down her mug to flip through it, frowning when she notices all the pages are blank. "I will admit to buying it on a whim, but you told Layla you were envious of the stories humans have."

"They have many stories," she mutters. She hadn't meant to admit that, but Layla had a gentleness to her that just… made you talk. It reminds her a bit of Seranni, truthfully. "Many heroes. Do the elves have any, in the cities?"

"Well, we have Garahel, the slayer of the fourth Archdemon." He coughs awkwardly and looks away, a blush making his skin appear a darker red than normal. "I've been told Cleon and I have many stories about us now, in the Alienage."

"You deserve it." She fully believes that. Cleon is a hero to the Dalish, and she can see why Aiden would be one to the city elves. "But humans have so many."

"They do. But that's a discussion for another time." He smiles kindly. "The book is a journal. The pages are blank for you to write down things. Like stories." His smile warms as she stares. "The stories you do know of the past. The stories you learn in the future. Stories you even make up for the future. Whatever you wish. You can write them down in that, and keep them always."

He leaves her then, because Nuada had returned. She watches them talk again, noting how they signed even when Cleon is nowhere near, and then she looks at the journal. She runs her hands over the blank pages, already thinking of what she could write. Already wondering what stories she could….

'Stories connect us to the past, shaping a people in profound ways.' Ilshae had told her that, once. She also remembers something Merrill told her as well: 'It is a Keeper's job to remember.' She might be a Warden now, but perhaps she can still 'remember'. She no longer has a Clan, but perhaps she can still find and tell the stories that shape her people. Perhaps she can write down new ones, so that the elves do not forget their heroes.

She doesn't think she can be a hero, not like Cleon. But she can remember. She can write. She can keep the stories. It sounds rather nice, truthfully, and it is a good way to apply what Ilshae had taught her. It is… it is a good way, to honor her memory, and to find her own atonement for all of this. So, she finds a pen in her bag and begins writing, sipping the tea and feeling her mind settle at last.

Yes, this is something she can do. So, she would.

Chapter Text

Chapter 14) Blackmarsh

Aiden POV

So, they push forward, as is their job. There's an ass in the throne and they're getting funds. They're getting help. It's a good day. It's a very good day. So, why does he feel uneasy? Old instincts, of course, but what? He knows something is wrong, but he can't see it.

" Kardol!" He turns at his name, and nods at Renn as he meanders up. "Darkspawn lines are abnormal," Renn reports. He closes his eyes, grimacing. "It's like they can think. But the Archdemon is gone."

" Never a dull day," he replies. He wonders what's going on with the Wardens. Have they seen the same? He should try to get a message out. Maybe even to that Aiden lad. "Let's go."

"On it."

The Blackmarsh. Dark, damp, and filled with twisted trees. You couldn't see the sun. You could barely see your hand in front of your face. It was, in many ways, a place very suiting of its name.

"This is an unnatural place," Velanna whispered as we walked down the path. She conjured up a few globes of light to help Nathaniel and Lord Nuada walk see the path. Elves had better dark vision than humans, as did dwarves. Though, I noticed Oghren's didn't glint like a cat's, like how my eyes did and Velanna's. "The Veil is thin and spirits are abound. We must be wary."

"So, it's a big magic thing, right?" Oghren asked. He had to pause to pull his foot out of the muck. "Messing things up again?"

"Extremely big." She sighed. "My people say this place used to be lush, beautiful, until some unnatural perversion occured. I thought they were exaggerating."

"Seems like whenever there's trouble on the surface, it's magic or darkspawn."

"You forgot politics, Oghren," Lord Nuada added. He almost ran into a low-hanging branch on his right, but Nathaniel darted ahead to push it up for him. Lord Nuada nodded and Nathaniel fell into step on his right. "As someone who lived in Orzammar, I'm surprised you forgot it."

"Oh, everything is politics, including magic and darkspawn idiocy," Oghren retorted instantly. He got stuck again and I helped him get himself free. Velanna hesitantly used magic to firm up the ground, frowning heavily. "Say, when did everything go weird here?"

"Just before the Rebellion, if I recall my studies correctly," Nathaniel explained. He smiled wryly, looking about. Nothing had met us yet, which seemed unusual to me. "I used to dream about coming to the marsh and setting things right. Little boy dreams."

"Well, now you're here to… do whatever weird shit happens." Oghren shrugged at the dirty looks thrown his way. "It's us. Something absolutely bizarre is going to happen."

"I wish you were a little less right," I sighed. I ducked under another branch and waited for Velanna's magic to ensure we didn't get stuck in the muck. Again. "How long ago was the Rebellion?"

"Officially, it started in 8:44 Blessed and lasted until 9:02 Dragon," Lord Nuada rattled off easily. "So, it lasted fifty-eight years." Lord Nuada smiled warmly when I gave him a weird look. "The Second Orlesian Invasion started in 8:24, ordered by Emperor Reville, the 'Mad Emperor'. It lasted twenty years, and then the rebellion more or less started as soon as Orlais claimed victory." He shrugged. "Though, the story could mean shortly before Queen Moira took over. That's when full insurrection started. The most famous battles were, of course, after her assassination in 8:96."

"I was trying to place how long ago everything went wrong here, you know. For curiosity's sake."

"Sadly, I can't tell you that one, but the absolute earliest would be thirty-five years ago. The maximum would be around eighty-seven years." Lord Nuada almost said more, but sighed as he also managed to get stuck. "I feel like I'm going to bathe for a week once we're out of here. A nice warm bath."

"Won't it go cold quickly?"

"Layla can heat up the water again. It's nice."

"I'm… Oh, for…" I rolled my eyes and Lord Nuada laughed. "Not sure I needed to know you two take baths together."

"We don't. Our schedules tend to be too busy for that." He struggled to get his foot out of the mud. "But she hates cold baths and will use magic to keep them warm." He sighed and held out his hand. I took it and had to dig my heels in to pull him out. "Okay, that's it." He turned to Velanna. "The whole 'turning mud to stone' thing is absolutely lovely. Is it safe for you to continue doing so?"

"It seems to be, yes," Velanna answered slowly. She frowned at the magic in her hands, clearly studying it. "My magic is not fluctuating too much either, despite the unknown energy of the place."

"In that case, do you mind going ahead with Nathaniel to scout and limit the chances of us getting stuck in the mud?" I requested. She frowned, but nodded. "Oghren, go with them as well, just in case we get ambushed. Both are long-ranged fighters."

"Figures that the darkspawn would pick somewhere wet and muddy," Oghren grumbled, already moving forward. "I better not lose a boot." Of course, not two seconds later, Oghren suddenly yelped. I moved quickly forward, but found nothing within sight. "I thought I saw a… um…" He coughed in embarrassment, and I desperately tried to bite back a smile. Someone was jumpy. "Ahem. Anyway."

"Thank you."

"Right, right." Oghren went ahead, with Nathaniel and Velanna following closely. I noted with amusement that Nathaniel had actually started teasing Velanna, taking advantage of the fact that Velanna had some difficulties recognizing sarcasm. It definitely flustered her, and I knew I should probably make sure it didn't turn to bullying, but for right now, it was amusing.

However, it didn't escape me that Lord Nuada made no effort to keep up with them. Instead, he kept perfect pace with me, waiting until they had disappeared from sight. "So, you have been off lately," he began softly. He nudged my side and smiled. "Are you up for talking about it now or would you rather wait a little longer?"

"Mmm, no, I think I can talk about it now," I whispered. Still, I felt myself slump at the memory. "When we were with the talking darkspawn in the mines, they made a mention of how… odd I was." I brought up my hand, staring at my wrists. The veins. The blood within. "It mentioned that the Taint was stronger in me, but the 'cost' was halved. That I wasn't anymore of an elf than it." I clenched my fist, remembering. "I suppose it's right. What elf can punch someone's head clean off?"

"I see." Lord Nuada fell silent, closing his eyes to think. I tried to not fidget. "Well, I can see why that would shake you. The skill is unusual, and we still need to bug whatever his name is about what else there might be."

"You haven't met Avernus, have you?"

"No, I went to Ostagar and fought undead-Duncan." He shuddered at the memory and I winced. Duncan had deserved much better. "Regardless, though, you are a more powerful Warden, in many ways, and I'm sure the other Wardens will yell at us, again, as soon as they learn."

"Yeah…"

"That all said…" He suddenly grinned. "You are in very fine company when it comes to being weird. Fine, by the way, being used in multiple senses of the word." He winked and I choked on a laugh. "But, think about it. Layla has the memory of an ancient elf in her head. We get lots of useful information, and she's eagerly compiling what bits she's gathered to give to the Dalish, but you have to admit that is pretty weird."

"Well, yes…"

"We also destroyed a Blight in less than a year, and we have Wardens breathing down our necks for explanations on how we did that, and how Cleon survived. We're also very involved in politics, which is unusual…" He made a face. "To use myself as an example, and to whine a little, I don't think there's been a Warden-Constable Teryn Champion. I might as well be a Pentaghast with how long it'll take to announce me at formal things. Well, granted, I am actually related, but that is neither here nor there."

"I have no idea how you're not dead yet from the paperwork."

"That would be years of experience helping me out." He shrugged, unbothered, but I frowned a little worriedly. I wasn't sure that actually made me feel better. "Many would consider Cleon weird just for being a Dalish who is well regarded. You can be considered weird without the whole punching business for a similar reason. We all know how society is."

"Are you going to list off every way our little group of four is weird?"

"Well, I was planning on going to the rest of our friends, and to our new companions, but I think you get the point." He made a face suddenly. "Though, that might not actually be comforting. Hang on; let me..."

"No, it is, though perhaps not in the way you originally intended." I smiled warmly at him, just… grateful. His first reaction had been to reassure me, both that I wasn't overreacting and then by reminding me that I wasn't alone. "Even with this weirdness, you stand with me."

"Considering my life, Aiden, it will take more than weirdness to make me leave. I'm honestly not sure you can do anything to make me leave, actually, so long as you remain yourself. A strange echoing roar cut him short, and he looked down the path where the others had gone. Which also happened to be where the sound came from. "What in Andraste's name did they do?"

"So quick to assume that they did something." I laughed at his droll look. "Yes, I know. It's us. Of course something happened." I made sure my Vigilance was out, and he made sure his sword and shield were in hand. "Let's go."

We both raced down the path, following the paths that weren't muddy. We ended up climbing a bit of a hill, looking a bit over the area. In the distance, I thought I caught shadows of buildings, but I didn't focus on them. Instead, I focused on not getting stuck on the path or, worse, falling off. We made it to a clearing, one surprisingly devoid of any vegetation and mud, but my mind didn't focus much on that. Instead, it focused on the giant dragon, glowing white in the darkness and strangely skeletal, that was in the middle of the clearing. It… it looked like a ghost. Except… except it was a dragon. It was a ghost dragon. A. Ghost. Dragon. And Oghren, Velanna, and Nathaniel were fighting it.

"What in the name of everything holy and not did you all do?!" I snapped as soon as I got my wits about me. I rolled out of the way of the lightning it breathed out for some damn reason and nearly got clawed by… well, its claws. Lord Nuada, however, got in the way, grunting as he blocked it with his shield. I jumped out around him to try and cut off the claw, but it quickly reformed when I did. "Seriously, what did you do!?"

"Bah, don't worry about it for now, lad!" Oghren laughed. He somehow managed to climb up one of the nearby rock walls and used the height to jump and bring his axe down on the ghost-dragon's head. "Nothing gets the blood pumping like a dragon fight!"

"When did you ever fight a dragon before this?!"

"Some end up in the Deep Roads! They like caves!" The dragon tossed its head and sent Oghren into the air. He twisted, though, and landed on the 'wing'. And promptly fell threw because it was a freaking ghost. "Oof!"

"Nathaniel, focus on the eyes!" Lord Nuada snapped. He slid in the mud and protected Oghren from being stepped on. I saw his face twist in pain and I lunged to slice through its neck. No blood, but it did jerk back. "Hopefully, it'll at least have an instinctive reaction like it did there. Velanna!" Lord Nuada jumped back to avoid the dragon trying to bite him. "Velanna, you alive?"

"I am!" Velanna replied. She pulled rocks from the ground to form a shield as the dragon tried to strike her. Nathaniel, meanwhile, flitted about the edges, firing arrows and disappearing into the shadows again. Almost like Cleon, truthfully. "What is it?"

"Velanna, do you have any spells from the Spirit School?"

"It is a spirit!"

"It's shooting damn lighting and those types of dragons always have a weakness to spirit spells!" Lord Nuada knocked the dragon's claw to the side. I took advantage of the opening to sink Vigilance to the hilt on its side. Oghren jumped off my back to smash the wing. "So will you answer my question or not?!"

"I've… I've a couple?"

"Use those!" Lord Nuada ducked past another swipe of its claws. "Oh, I'm going to regret this." He let his guard down briefly and let the dragon claw him. I nearly yelled, but when he looked up, I saw his silver eye had slitted pupils for a fraction of a second before returning to normal. Reaver. He'd wanted the Reaver's strength. "Nathaniel, is it flinching from arrows?"

"It is!" Nathaniel yelled back. His voice was almost sourceless, just 'from the shadows'. I had a feeling he was better trained as an assassin than we'd originally thought. "Hang on…!" An arrow beautifully arced over our heads and landed deep into the dragon's eye. It screeched loud enough to rattle my ears and screamed even louder when some sort of bolt appeared out of nowhere. Some spell of Velanna's, I assumed.

Regardless, it reared back and I glanced at Nuada. He nodded and a flicker of red-black flame wrapped around his blade before turning into a bright light. I focused and called on the same, feeling the power pulse within me, just as Alistair taught us. The Wrath of Heaven… a templar trick. Good against demons, abominations, mages… and hopefully ghosts.

The two of us struck simultaneously, me hitting with all my strength just as Oghren taught me and him striking with the power granted from being a Reaver. We carved out a hole into the dragon's chest and it reformed, making me think that it didn't work at all. But then the form flickered. Once… twice… it roared as it desperately tried to stay together. But, soon, its form dissipated into tiny globes of light that scattered about on the wind. Dead. I hoped.

"Well, that's another weird thing we can add to our list of 'what in Andraste's blood is our lives?'," Lord Nuada noted dryly. His voice was a little thin from pain and he had the most exasperated look I had seen on his face in a long while. "We just killed a ghost dragon. Somehow. Seriously, what did you do?" He rounded on the others and then focused entirely on Oghren. Oghren grinned and awkwardly waved a bit. "Start now. I am so very curious."

This was going to be fun to watch.

It turned out to be a complete accident. They had found some bones and had moved them to the side to properly burn, just in case some spirit tried to create undead. Something that made sense, considering that the Veil was thin and I knew from Redcliffe and Soldier's Peak what that meant. However, somehow, bringing the bones together actually led to a ghost being summoned and, unlike all the other ghosts I'd seen, it tried to kill us. I didn't even know how to begin trying to understand that. I really didn't. It was almost a relief when we came across darkspawn because they, at least, made some sense. Almost, because I finally met the Children, which were even creepier than described, and there were freaking blighted werewolves. The normal ones were bad enough!

"Well, this has been such an invigorating trip through the marsh," Nathaniel noted as we walked down the path slowly. All of us were on edge thanks to the blighted werewolves that appeared from freaking nowhere and Velanna was still turning the ground to stone to keep us from being stuck in the mud. "Never thought I'd see a werewolf in my life."

"Normal ones are a little more communicative," I noted absently. I shrugged at his weird look. "Brecilian forest. When we were getting help from the Dalish, we ended up ending a werewolf curse. So, maybe they weren't very normal, actually." I wondered how that Clan was doing. They'd moved to the settlement in the Hinterlands, from what I could remember. "Regardless, they didn't appear from the shadows and they had fur on their heads."

"Dare I ask what other odd things you fought?"

"Well, most would consider the Archdemon an 'odd' thing to fight." I gave him a dirty look. "Most would also consider spectrel dragons weird."

"Point made." He smiled sheepishly and ducked back to save Velanna from whatever she was talking to Oghren about. I heard something about 'dwarves are born from rocks' and decided to stay as far away from it as I could.

Instead, I fell in step with Lord Nuada, who was thinking aloud about something. "There was a lot of lightning, though… hmm…" he began, frowning. HIs hands moved through the air almost like he was flipping through a book. "Could it have been a vinsomer? Wait, no, they prefer isolated areas that are rocky, like the Storm Coast or that island to the north of the coast. It could've been a gamordan stormrider, actually. They prefer swamp like areas for their territory. Though, I thought they mostly prefered Orlais, given that they show up in artwork there a lot. Of course, they do fly." He hummed a little in thought and, again, his hand moved almost like he was flipping through a book. "Wait, maybe it had been a northern hunter? I think they like fens and… what was the difference between a fen and a marsh? It was something about sediment."

"It is fascinating watching you think aloud," I finally said, unable to keep quiet. "It really is.

"I'm impressed that I kept it all to one language and didn't get caught on a word." He grinned at me, unbothered. He must've been paying more attention to his surroundings than I thought. "Don't mind me. I'm just trying to figure out what kind of dragon that was." He paused suddenly, frowning. "Wait, though… dragon… oh, wow, I'm an idiot."

"I won't disagree, but why are you saying that?"

"There was a dragon. This age was named the Dragon Age due to the sudden reappearance of dragons after it was previously believed they were hunted to extinction." He looked annoyed now. "In 8:99 Blessed, dragons suddenly reappeared in Antiva and devastated rural Orlais and Nevarra. At the same time, another dragon was sighted on the Orlesian side of the Frostback Mountains, shortly before the Battle of the River Dance, actually."

"So, assuming it wasn't a strange, isolated incident that never truly spread, then the village likely fell to ruin shortly before the end of the Rebellion?"

"It could be that the dragon's appearance was unusual, but still, considering everything… though, things have always been a little weird. It could have been an isolated incident. Maybe." Lord Nuada hummed a bit, some song I didn't recognize. "You know; this age was originally supposed to be dubbed the Sun Age, named for the Orlesian Empire. Then the dragons appeared and it was predicted this age would be an age of violence and upheaval."

"...Considering the damn Blight we had…" I'd say that prediction was unfortunately true.

"We live in interesting times and…" Lord Nuada suddenly tripped and had to skip a bit to not fall on his face. His foot had gotten caught in some mud. "Oh, we're too far ahead of Velanna." He stopped and turned and I saw that Nathaniel, Oghren, and Velanna were a noticeable ways away. "We need to work on that isolation thing we've been doing, but it's so hard."

"I suppose." I had to think for a moment before realizing he was more than a little right. It was either 'on the job' or 'stay near the other three senior Wardens who are basically my family'. Not a good way to learn and form bonds with your own people. "Enough of dragons, though." I decided to keep on walking, and he followed without a complaint. "Philosophize on something else."

"Well, I do have other questions." Lord Nuada grinned when I groaned. "It has to deal with genlocks."

"We're philosophizing about darkspawn now?"

"Well, we know that genlocks are born from broodmothers who were once dwarves." He paused when I winced and I had to cover my mouth to keep from being nauseous. The broodmother in the Deep Roads… Branka… that whole thing haunted me even now. "Do you want me to stop?"

"Are you going to continue with the broodmother?"

"No, it was just meant as the starting point." He waited until I nodded. "So, dwarves can't use magic, yes? They are separated from the Fade and do not dream or use magic."

"Yes, I think I know that."

"In that case, though, why can genlocks use magic?" He frowned thoughtfully, and I ducked under a low hanging branch. "Why is it that you have powerful… ack!" Lord Nuada, however, didn't notice the branch and, while he didn't run into it, he did get his hair tangled in it. "Why is my hair long again?"

"I don't have a clue. I cut mine the first chance I got." I helped him untangle it. "Though, perhaps that's the forest's way of saying that you're thinking too much."

"You think there's a spirit here, like the Brecilian Forest?" Lord Nuada looked around and I did as well, frowning as I thought of the Lady of the Forest. If there was a spirit here, I had no doubts it was sobbing and bleeding, unlike her. "Anyway, you asked!"

"Of course. How dare I." I grinned and he rolled his eyes. "Anyway, let's walk a little more before walking and…" We rounded a corner in the path and froze at the strange green light shimmering in the air right in front of us. "Okay. That's new."

Lord Nuada didn't even reply. He used a 'spell purge' templar trick, to see if there was any ambient magic that could screw us over and stepped back, tugging me with him. We waited patiently for the other three, who sensed something was wrong and jogged up, not bothering to transfigure the ground. All three froze with us at the sight of the light and Nathaniel actually shot an arrow at it. There was a brief flash and either the arrow disappeared or splintered into thousands of pieces because there was absolutely no sign of the arrow afterwards. It was just gone.

"It's a tear in the Veil," Velanna murmured at last. She approached cautiously and crouched down to peer at it. "The spirit realm is close to use here, but no demons yet. The tear might be too thin for them, but it can explain why the spirit of that dragon remained bound to the bones."

"Can demons slip through a tear in the Veil?" I asked softly. I rested a hand on her shoulder and tugged her back a bit. She didn't fight me. "I mean… I've heard of rips and undead, but…"

"Oh, yes. If there is a big enough one, it will actually pull the spirits through." She shuddered at the thought. "I can't imagine the chaos that would result from a hole like that."

"Is it foolish to hope we don't see it?" I helped Velanna up and looked around, finding another path. "Let's head this way, then. I take it we want to avoid the tears?"

"Only if you like living."

"Avoiding, then."

The five of us made sure to stay together from then on, no one straying any farther than arm's length. If we had been children, we might've held hands, but of course we didn't. We had to keep our weapons out, ready for anything. Any demon. Any darkspawn. Anything. But we didn't find any of them. We just continued walking through, feeling more and more uneasy as we wandered about. Eventually, we came upon the ruins of the old village, broken shambles of houses and gardens overgrown with weeds. Rotting wood and rusted metal. Smells that hinted what few animals remained took up residence here. Strangely, the manor itself looked blackening, like it had been set aflame, and the gates to it were locked shut.

"Nature should have reclaimed this place long ago," Velanna whispered. She rested a hand on one ruined building, frowning at it. "There is something else here. This was the source of the disturbance, and the magic continues to echo."

"That building or this village?" I asked, signalling the others to disperse and look around. I crouched by the ruined building and pulled out a stained and ripped doll. "Both?"

"Mmm… it's hard to say." Velanna looked to the blackened manner and gestured something towards her. The wind began blowing, and I caught the distinct smell of char. "I think the manor might've been the focal point."

"You can control the wind?"

"I can… mmm…" She frowned, clearly trying to figure out how to explain. "Nothing controls the wind, but I can use my magic to ask it to come my way? Does that make sense?"

"I think so." It made enough. "So, the manor there." I looked towards it, and noticed Nathaniel, Lord Nuada, and Oghren were nowhere in sight. "Do I want to take a wild guess and say 'blood magic'?"

"I can't think of another way to get the massive amount of power, unless whatever mage was here had a mountain of lyrium to burn." She scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Blood magic. Vile thing."

"Mistress Layla's a blood mage." I stood slowly, not bothering to look at her. "She learned to save a little boy's life, and now works to determine ways to use it in tandem with healing magic. And fighting. I think she's used it a few times to make her body move 'properly' for one of her Arcane Warrior tricks." Now I looked at Velanna and saw her stunned look. "We're very weird folk, and we went through some very weird things. All I ask is that you try to keep an open mind, Velanna."

"...Fine." She scowled and looked down. "Still, whoever was here…"

"Was very vile, yes. I was more bringing it up so that you don't accidentally insult Mistress Layla. She's still learning to be comfortable with that magic." I patted Velanna on the shoulder. "We should find…?" I paused as I saw Nathaniel racing for us. "Or Nathaniel can find us? What's wrong?"

"Oghren found a camp," Nathaniel explained, sliding to a stop. His expression was carefully stoic, and that gave me a giant hint of what we're about to find. "This way."

Nathaniel led us quickly and easily down a path away from the village, pushing aside branches to make sure we didn't clonk ourselves in the head on accident. Before long, we came upon a campsite with a few belongings scattered about, a fire pit filled with charcoal, and a single man off to the side. He wore armor and there was a bloody sword and shield not far from his hands. Unseeing eyes stared out into nothing. Well, here was the missing Warden. Deader than a doornail. Because of course, he was.

"He's been dead for a while," Lord Nuada noted, studying the corpse. Oghren was going through Kristoff's belongings, likely trying to find some sort of hint. "There's more rot than I'd expect, but maybe it's because of how damp everything is. There's some skin maceration, I think." He glanced up at me before returning to poking the body. "It's probably been a few days, though. I imagine he was dead within hours of arriving."

"Why do you know so much about corpses, Nuada?" Nathaniel asked. He kept an eye on our perimeter, frowning at something. "That's not standard knowledge."

"I lived in Nevarra. I learned about death as part of their standard curriculum, and then learned more to impress the nobles and make things easier for Father." Lord Nuada shrugged. "Death plays an important part in their culture. Though, the art is phenomenal. I really must talk more about the art, and the festivals!" He sighed gustily. I began noticing a slight presence in my head and looked around, trying to determine the source. "It has such wonderful festivals."

"Some days, I wonder if you hit your head, Nuada."

"It's less of a problem than the darkspawn attempting to surround us." Lord Nuada jumped to his feet, sword and shield in hand. "At least, that's what I'm guessing by what I sense."

"You know; I was hoping I was wrong," I murmured, moving backwards and bringing Vigilance out. All of us clustered around the dead campfire, watching the darkspawn slowly crawl out of the muck and trees. They'd been hiding against the ground. Clever. "Opinions on what to do?"

"If you give me twenty seconds, I can figure out something," Lord Nuada whispered. He shifted so that he was near Oghren and Velanna. I gathered he'd make the plan with their help.

So, I focused solely on the darkspawn, noticing they weren't striking. After a moment, another darkspawn, one wearing surprisingly fine armor, stepped out of the wood. "Yes, that is your Grey Warden," the darkspawn hissed. I narrowed my eyes, already guessing what happened. "The Mother told it to me that if it was lured to this place, and slain, you would come." Well, there was the 'Mother' that the 'Children' implied.

"I suppose I should feel flattered she wants us dealt with that badly," I retorted. I had my greatsword 'at rest' in front of me. Lord Nuada had his sword and shield at the ready. Oghren was clearly only waiting for us to strike, as were Nathaniel and Velanna. Nathaniel had actually turned to aim his arrow straight at the talking darkspawn's head. "It's a fun little trap, but surely, there's more to it than this." There were a few darkspawn, but not a lot. We could handle this number, easily. I hoped. "What do you call yourself?"

"I, here before you, am the First." The first of what, I wondered. It didn't matter, but I was curious. "And I am bringing to you a message."

"And that is?"

"The Mother is not permitting you to further his plans."

"Not involved in anyone's plans but my own, so if I am furthering something, it's entirely accidental." 'His'… I wondered if that was the talking darkspawn I saw in the mines.

"She knows it might not be on purpose. So, she is bidding me to give you a gift."

It held out its hand, turned it slightly, and I suddenly felt… I felt both horrifically ill and unimaginably powerful. Black and green light rippled around its fingers, and I heard a terrible singing in my head, far different than the Archdemon's song. My vision went white and all I could hear was that terribly mournful song, echoing on and on and on...

Cleon and Mistress Layla were going to kill us.

Chapter Text

Chapter 15) The Baroness

Nuada POV

Quietly, he begins preparing for his yearly trip to Ansburg to visit family. Once, long ago, he thought he'd simply stay there, though Eamon had convinced him to be the Bann of Rainsfere. And now, Eamon had another favor to ask… to be Arl of Redcliffe. Connor couldn't inherit. He was a mage and mages couldn't inherit. Considering the changes Alistair (King Alistair, and he's so startled by it) is making, they might've made an exception. Lady Layla, after all, was a mage and would rule Amaranthine. And, no doubt, would be the Teyrna of Gwaren before long, considering Nuada (another change he never expected because there are so, so many).

Everything is different. Nothing is the same. The Blight might've been 'short' compared to others, but it had changed Fereldan forever. Honestly, it changed all of Thedas, because now, Fereldan has a reputation for the impossible. The tiny nation threw off Orlais's rule and now, destroyed a Blight before the rest of the world even knew what was wrong. The political landscape will never be the same.

Part of him longs to just leave it behind, to aspire to fighting in the Grand Tourney as he did in his youth. But he can't. He made his choices long ago, and now… well, he's still making choices. But he'll do what is best for his home. That's all he's ever really wanted.

We were in the Fade. Of all the things that could've happened, we were trapped in the Fade. Again. Well, I was trapped in the Fade again. Everyone else was trapped in the Fade for the first time. So, we wandered, trying to get our bearings somehow, and came across some strange apparatus that, apparently, had been the source of the Veil tearing. We managed to disrupt it and now all waited while Velanna used that journal Aiden gave her to take copious notes on the thing. The construction made her wonder if it was some sort of elven artifact, though it was possible it was some human construction done to mess things up. It was also possible that it was elven that humans stole and claimed as their own. It wasn't like there wasn't precedence for it.

But, regardless, Velanna wanted to talk notes on it, so we all rested. Aiden and Nathaniel helped Velanna while also keeping an eye on the area, and I was patting Oghren's back as he attempted to get past a wave of dizziness. Being in the Fade, when he wasn't 'supposed' to be because he was a dwarf, resulted in him having a longer adaptation time. As I helped him, I found myself looking around for 'Garahel' again, half-hoping he was there so that I could ask questions. But I didn't see 'him'. Somehow, I doubted that there would ever be an answer to whether or not that had been the 'real' Garahel who had helped us.

"I think I finally feel like I didn't drink all the alcohol in Tapster's in an hour," Oghren finally sighed. He straightened and rubbed at his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose to ward off another headache. "Ancestors' tits, no wonder non-dwarves are insane. Just look at the damn place."

"To be fair, most people only come here in their dreams," I half-defended. I couldn't say I was much happier at being here either. "I'm rather surprised you get dizzy from alcohol though, Oghren."

"I was young once. Took a while for the liver to adapt. And Tapster's has a lot of alcohol." He shrugged and looked around slowly, taking it all in. "Though, something else has been bothering me." He looked up at me seriously. "They're called 'the Children'. Might just be a cutesy thing, but children grow."

"That is…" I… I didn't like that implication. ""You think they're…"

"They're like maggots, but here's the thing. Maggots are larva, right? They turn into flies?" He took a swig from his flask and offered it to me. "Maybe these Children are the same."

"Oh, that is not a fun thought." I decided to take the offered drink, and was rather startled that I recognized the taste. "Is this West Hill Brandy?"

"Had it before, have you?" He took his flask back with a grin. "Cleon got me some. It's not as strong as what I had been drinking. Figured it would help with cutting back some, like you suggested. Course, I've still got my habits."

"Of course." But it did make me feel better. He'd probably always be the drunk, but… "So, you're better?"

"As well as I can be." He shrugged and moved towards the others. "How are you lot?"

"I'm thinking that it is no wonder dreams never make sense," Nathaniel answered easily. He looked around, laughing softly. "This world is strange."

"Welcome to the Fade," I said, trying to keep my voice light. I really didn't like being here. "I have to handle it to the Mother." I glanced over at Velanna and Aiden, still working. Oghren went to bother-tease them. "This wasn't something any of us expected."

"Still, quite the effort for a trap." Nathaniel frowned thoughtfully, eyes narrowed as he looked around. "I wonder why this Mother went through so much trouble?"

"We know there's a Civil War among the Darkspawn, so I'm guessing the two sides are the 'He' and the Mother." And here we were, the unpredictable ones once again.

"The 'He' is likely the Architect the Lost mentioned in the Deep Roads, by the way." He gestured at the burn scar on his neck. "Do you remember?"

"Honestly, no, I didn't really. I was a little more concerned about how close to death we all got." Still, the reminder of 'the Architect' and 'the Mother' made me think of a couple of things. One was wondering if this Mother was a broodmother who somehow gained sentience, like the First and Lost we had encountered. Then I wondered why the phrase 'the Architect' sounded familiar. It was an old familiarity, like it was something I had heard when I was younger, but I couldn't place it. It was such a generic phrase, yet still…

"Lord Nuada?" With a start, I whirled to see Aiden looking at me weirdly. "We were trying to determine what to do next," he prompted. I smiled sheepishly, noticing that all of them were giving me worried or weird looks. They must've been trying to get my attention for a while. "What do you think?"

"Based on what happened last time…" I began. I crossed my arms and thought, trying to remember. "My guess is that this is someone's area and we have to kill the 'ruler' of the area. It's what we had to do with Sloth back at the Tower. But, hey, we're not all separated and we don't have to run around saving people from mental prisons." The Mother had just wanted us stuck in the Fade.

"Wait, what did you mean 'last time'?" Nathaniel asked incredulously. He facepalmed when I shrugged. After all, it was exactly what it sounded like. "You all went through weird shit."

"Yes, we did, so let's get moving." Of course, when we started off, I had to pause because I thought I was bleeding. But when I checked, I saw that it wasn't the case, just a trick of the weird light. Besides, Layla refused to let me leave until I was perfectly cleared.

Aiden waited for me, tilting his head curiously. "Is everything okay?" he asked. I nodded and waved away the concern. It really wasn't anything. "So, did you and Cleon mean to forget about this 'Architect'? Nathaniel told me while you were staring off into space."

"I was thinking and no, we didn't," I replied, shrugging. It was annoying that I had forgotten that. "In my defense, I was in a lot of pain and very distracted."

"You didn't let her use healing magic until a day or so after you got back." He frowned at me. "Why?"

"Why didn't you have her use magic?"

"I was still a little on edge from everything, and just… didn't want to deal with it." It was probably stupid and illogical, though thankfully, Layla just went with it. But it was less the healing magic and more letting me keep some sort of 'control' during the healing process. I wasn't helpless. I could react, and I could weigh in.

Aiden gave me an odd look, one that said he didn't quite understand but that he wasn't going to press, and changed the subject. "Speaking of 'on edge', Lord Nuada…" He smiled kindly. "Are you all right?"

"We're trapped in the Fade."

"And you try to hide it, but I see how you're paler than normal and I can hear how your tone is snappier." He grinned at my annoyed look. "We've spent too much time together."

"Never. But you do read me far too well." I sighed and reached back to fix my ponytail. I really should braid it or something to keep it from getting caught. "Sloth was… honestly, Aiden, some days, I wake up thinking that I'm still there. I know, logically, that I could never dream most of this, but…"

"You mentioned prisons. None of you talked much about what happened in the Fade."

"Sloth demons are named because they urge people to rest, to stop, to laze away." Ponytail fixed, I fiddled with the strands by my face, needing to do something with my hands. Normally, I'd sign, but… "So, we were all imprisoned in… well, Wynne got a damn nightmare, but the rest of us had nice dreams." I could still see it if I closed my eyes. I could still see waking up to Mother's fretting. I could still see all of us laughing. "Mine was a good dream, a happy dream. It was also an impossible dream." I could never have it again. So many people in that dream were dead. "So, even though my duty dictated otherwise, no small part of me wanted to stay." I shook my head, desperate to get the memory out of my head. "But I made my promises and, so, I left."

"And what about now?" Aiden looked at me seriously. "What would you do?"

"Of course. But hypothetically. Would you stay?"

"...No. No, I wouldn't." I smiled softly, closing my eyes. "Craziness and trauma aside, I actually have a very good life. What family I have left is wonderful, I have very dear friends, and I somehow managed to catch the eye of a person I love very, very much."

"It's not all bad, is it? Despite everything we went through. All the pain and exhaustion."

"That is exactly it." I looked up to see the others were waiting for us. "Ah, I'm sorry. Aiden was being a worrywart and…" I trailed off as I realized they weren't 'waiting' for us, so much as they had to stop and stare. There, just down the hill, was a surprisingly beautiful village, one that looked a lot like the ruins we saw in the marsh.

Oh, this was going to be annoying.

This was the Blackmarsh village. This was it, complete with people. This was absolute madness. Why was it here? How? There were so many questions and part of me wanted to know. The other part of me was just going 'screw everything, I want to go home'.

"So, the village exists, just beyond the Veil," Velanna murmured as we walked down a side path, safely out of sight. She rested a hand on one of the buildings and looked around. "I can see the paths easily."

"Glad you can, since we're walking around a magical dream village," Oghren groaned. He took another swing from his flask, and passed it to Aiden and me when we silently asked. "I've had it with this touchy-feely head trip. If I wanted to go all fuzzy, I'd have something like Aqua Magus."

"What even is that?"

"Alcohol-lyrium cocktail."

"Someone remind me to get him some aquae lucidius," I murmured, mostly to divert attention away from Velanna's surprised squawk. "I want to see that."

"Make sure I'm around," Nathaniel added with a small laugh. He and I shared a grin; it was fairly popular for youths in the Free Marches and Orlais to sneak some. "Honestly, it might be fun to make everyone try some."

"Well, it wouldn't be to force, but still, I'd love to see through time again." We both started snickering at Aiden and Velanna's 'oh, Maker/Creators, why are we with these weird humans/shemlen?' looks. Oghren just looked intrigued. "What's the plan?"

"I suppose we continue on," Aiden suggested after a moment. He looked around again, frowning. "It can't… nope. Nope, not even going to say it."

Despite Aiden cutting himself off, things did, in fact, get weirder. As we slowly made our way through the village, we saw people acting out parts of their lives. Some people reacted to guards who no longer existed. Others held conversations from before, like they were nothing more than remnants. Layla had told me about this, how the Fade would 'echo' the memories of the world, but still, it was unnerving to watch.

"The mansion will not protect you, fiend!" A booming voice eventually drowned out all the echoes, though, and as we came across a giant, gated manor, we found a large crowd. Some of the people were even in armor. "Come out and face your crime!" The speaker, however, wasn't like the rest of the crowd. They were transparent, for one thing, and that alone told me that this was a Spirit.

"She hides!" someone else shouted. This was a woman with shortish hair, and she didn't seem to be 'acting out' anything. Instead, she was reacting to what was around her. All of the crowd was like that. "Break down the gates!"

"Be cautious, friends." The Spirit held up their hand in warning. "The witch has power in her lair and she knows this. We rush in at our own peril. Do not let your vengeance blind you." The Spirit focused on us, though, probably because we were the more heavily armed people in the crowd, far more armed than normal villagers could be. "Now, what comes now? More minions of the Baroness, or more souls she has tormented?"

"Neither, to be honest," Aiden replied with a shrug. He looked around curiously before focusing on the Spirit. "We were trapped by someone else. You are?"

"I am Justice. I have watched over this area and seethed at the wrongs the people have suffered." They gestured to the other people, all of whom had expressions of desperation. "Now, I seek to aid them."

"Wrongs?"

"Stealing their children in the middle of the night, draining them of blood for her own selfishness…!" Justice sharply shook its head. "Not to mention dragging them here to the Fade in the first place." Aiden and I glanced at each other, deciding to not push. Behind us, Velanna argued with Nathaniel over something. I heard 'cattle' and chose to stay out of it. I had a headache. "Tell me, stranger. Will you help us in this righteous task?"

"Well…" Aiden sighed, running a hand through his hair. Oghren rolled his eyes, but kept silent. "Truthfully, we were seeking the owner of this part of the Fade so that we could kill them and escape. Seems like that's the Baroness, yes?"

"She is. So?"

"Yes, then. We'll help." Aiden casually walked up to the gates, studying. "Now then…" With two kicks, he had the gates completely off their hinges. "Tada."

"Then now is the time to win their freedom!" And Justice charged right on in, followed by the villagers. We all exchanged a look and a shrug before following.

The courtyard itself was basic, surprisingly so for someone from Orlais. It might've been that the marsh hadn't allowed a fancier garden. However, the building was typical for the 'built during the Orlesian Occupation' era, with some practicality, but mostly just ornamentation. And there, standing on the balcony of the manor, was a woman dressed in 'Orlesian casual', what Orlesians would wear when in the relative safety of their own home, long after the guests had left for the day.

"My, my. All that shouting outside and now you've decided to barge in." the Baroness scoffed, resting her hands on the railing. Her eyes flicked over all of us, lingering on our group. We stood out too much. "Without a proper invitation, at that."

"Foul sorceress…" Justice growled. It gestured to the villagers, all ready to fight for their freedom or 'die' trying. "You will release these poor people and then submit yourself to justice." For a second, I thought it meant submitting to it before I realized it was just talking of the ideal. This was going to be confusing fast.

"Justice? Is that what you're calling it?" She rolled her eyes. "And what of their punishment? Setting my home afire, with me in it?"

"That was your punishment for sacrificing children for nothing but your own vanity!"

"As was my due!" She glared at us, and I felt a strange 'pulse' within my blood. I glanced at Aiden and saw his own discomfort. Velanna, Oghren, and Nathaniel seemed fine. "You lived on my lands! I was your rightful ruler! Your blood was mine, just as your lives are now."

Because of what was just said about blood, I subtly used the templar trick to dispel magic and felt the pulse dissipate. "My dear lady, do you want to try again with the blood magic?" I called, smiling charmingly. Her eyes widened slightly. I'd caught her by surprise. "You were also never their rightful ruler, and you certainly aren't now. Fereldan defeated Orlais in a rebellion twenty-nine years ago. You're nothing to Fereldan now. There isn't even a record of your name anywhere."

"You dare…" she growled. But she recovered quickly. "So, it seems you are not alone. Hmph…" She gestured and, surprisingly, the First stepped out. I had genuinely forgotten it had been dragged into the Fade with us. "Well, I am not alone either."

"So, you send a darkspawn against Wardens?" Aiden asked dryly. He looked so done with all of this. "You're not exactly selling the 'all should be afraid of me' thing. I mean l I know why they were." He gestured to the villagers. "But compared to the ghost dragon we killed not that long ago, you're kind of pathetic. Actually, compared to most things, you're rather pathetic." Oh, he was more than just 'done'. He'd lost his temper.

"You… a knife-ear…!"

"I am the Commander of the Grey Wardens of Fereldan, and I fought the damn Archdemon. Yeah, a Blight happened. We ended it. You're seriously not scaring our group."

"Speak for yourself," Nathaniel muttered. I almost laughed. "I think he forgot that Velanna and I haven't been through all the weird shit yet."

"He actually lost his temper," I explained. I studied the wall and the railing, checking something. I hadn't done this in a while, but… "You can imagine how 'nobles abusing their power' would hit a nerve, yes?"

"Well, yes, but…" Nathaniel groaned. "Maker damn it. Weapons ready!"

So, the battle began. Though, I didn't really join it. As soon as I realized we were fighting, I was climbing up the wall. The copious ornamentation made it easy, even easier than scaling the side of the Winter Palace. As a result, I was actually on the balcony itself before long, where the Baroness watched the battle closely. "I'm afraid I lived in Orlais for a time," I began. The Baroness gasped and whirled towards me. "Orlais likes making everything all shiny and ornamental. It makes it easy to scale the walls."

She tried to cast a spell, but I blocked it with a templar trick and twisted her off the balcony. She managed to take me down with her, but part of learning how to fight involved learning how to fall, so I rolled and bled off most of the impact. She wasn't as lucky, though, and landed hard. One leg snapped and she likely busted or cracked her ribs. Honestly, she might've gotten some internal bleeding since she landed face down.

Still, she struggled to push herself up, gasping from pain. "Enough of this…" she growled. "I deserve better… I deserve more…" I rolled my eyes and walked over, drawing my sword so that I could go ahead and cut her head off. "I will not let them squander the glory that is rightfully mine!" I froze, though, at the words. The situations couldn't be more different, but for a split-second, I didn't see the Baroness. For a split-second, I wasn't in the Fade. Instead, I was back in the dungeons of the Arl's mansion in Denerim, looking down at Howe as he glared at me with all the hatred in the world.

In that split-second, the Baroness used the First as a power source for a spell that rocked everything and made it shatter into a thousand of tiny pieces that fell into whiteness.

Eventually, the white light disappeared for darkness and I felt rain hit my face. I felt cold mud seep into my armor. That, alone, told me that we were back in the real world. "Well, we're alive," I groaned, pushing myself up and grimacing at all the muck in my hair. I needed twenty baths at least to get it all out. "Why is my hair long again?"

"Because you're too lazy to cut it," Aiden retorted instantly. He groaned as well and stood up. "I think I have mud in my underwear."

"We are going to need so many baths." I stood up as well, and helped up Velanna. She shivered from cold, and quickly cast a spell around us to warm the air and help dry us out a little. The rain made it a bit hard, though. "Everyone here?"

"Oghren is taking a bit, but he's stirring," Nathaniel replied. I glanced over to see he was already up and counting the arrows in his quiver. "Some of my arrows snapped, damn it…" Not knowing how to reply or help, I returned my attention to Velanna and tried to help her get the worst of the mud off. Sadly, a quick check showed that even our spare clothes in our packs had gotten muddy and wet, so I couldn't do much. "Nuada, you confirmed Kristoff was dead, right?"

"I did, yes. Why?"

"Well, he's moving." All of us whirled towards Kristoff's body to see it stumbling to its feet. It looked around, slipping in the mud before regained its balance. "Is this normal?"

"Well, if it tries to bite us, yes, but…"

"What… where am I?" 'Kristoff' said, cutting off any amount of theorizing. Though, considering that the lungs had probably rotted away, I was very confused by how he could speak at all. "What is happening?" He looked around slowly, dead eyes widening from horror. "No, this is the world of mortals, beyond the Veil. And this…" He dug at his face, and I nearly gagged when he pulled some skin off. "This is a vessel of flesh. I am trapped within…!"

"Justice?" Aiden called hesitantly. We both glanced at each other, fully admitting that this was way beyond our tolerance for weirdness. "Justice, is that you? What happened?"

"The witch sundered the Veil in her haste, and all of us were dragged through!" Justice moved angrily, and strangely jerky. It was like he had no idea how to move in the body. But, then again, spirits likely had no concept of muscle and bone. "She has returned to this realm as well. Can you not sense it?"

"Er… no. No, I can't. She's not a darkspawn." He glanced at Velanna, who closed her eyes. For my part, I wondered how she was here. Her body would've long rotted away by now, same as the villagers. Then I wondered if things would've been much better if I hadn't frozen right at that point. "Well?"

"For the record, I am strangely comforted by the fact that this is bothering you two as well," she snarked. After a moment, she opened her eyes and looked back towards the village. "I sense a powerful presence there. A demon, I think. But the Baroness..."

"She was no longer mortal, not like you or the villagers she suffered," Justice murmured. He sounded so tired, and saddened. "Now, she is a demon of pride. A Dark Pride demon, one of the most powerful. I had hoped to kill her while she was in the Fade, but that is impossible now."

"And… the body?"

"Not. My. Choice." He spat out the words, and I glanced at the others. Oghren was taking a huge gulp from his flask, and I didn't blame him one bit. "That said, the Veil is sundered. If we do not defeat her quickly, we chance it unraveling and demons spilling out." He growled something under his breath. "We are lucky I was the only spirit near. If they had been dragged through, the pain might've twisted them horrifically."

"Bah, whatever, we've got yet another thing to kill, right?" Oghren asked, tucking the flask into his belt again. He picked up his greataxe from the mud and rested it on his shoulder. "Let's just go and get out of here. Ancestor's tits, you people talk too much sometimes."

The others began walking down the path, but I… I caught Aiden's sleeve, looking down. "I'm sorry," I whispered. Aiden looked at me in confusion. "I should've killed her, but I…" But I remembered Howe and had frozen.

"We'll just kill her now," he answered. "Simple." He slung an arm around my shoulder and pulled me into a one-armed hug. When I refused to cheer up, he kissed my temple and tickled my neck to make me yelp. "Payback for tickling my feet."

"Yeah, yeah…" I made myself smile and the two of us followed everyone else.

I hoped it really would be that simple. I'd feel far worse if it wasn't.

There was a strange green shimmer to the air as we entered the village. We actually needed to pause a bit because the landscape flickered for a split-second. That was not normal. This was not simple. Maker damn it all, I should've just cut off her head when I had a chance.

"The Fade is bleeding into the mortal plane," Justice murmured, bringing up its hands. White light flickered around its fingers and the shimmering faded some. The area stopped flickering. "We must move quickly."

"So, quick question," Aiden began. He signed for all of us to prep for battle, and I had the thought of looking through the packs and checking what alchemical concoctions. "Do you think that we'll have to face the villagers?"

"No, I believe they are now at rest." Justice brought its hands down, clenching and unclenching its fists like it had no idea what to do about them. I just passed out Mighty Offense Potions to everyone. It would last thirty minutes, plenty of time for a fight. I hoped. "Wherever they are, at least."

"Wherever?"

"We Spirits believe there is a place beyond the Fade, but we have no more answers of an 'afterlife' than you." Justice shrugged, and looked confused at the potions I was distributing. I wanted to make sure we all had access to medicine. "The Veil wasn't always there, you know. It just appeared, one day."

"Really?" Aiden looked at Velanna and she shrugged before continuing her own preparations. I noticed Nathaniel putting some poison on his remaining arrows. I had no idea if it would work, but stranger things had happened and I knew how deadly a poison could be. "Why?"

"I don't know." Justice jerkily took up Kristoff's sword. "Are you ready?"

"I think so?" Aiden looked at us, and Oghren snagged another injury kit from my bag. "Guys?"

"I think we're as prepared as we can be," I replied, tucking everything back. "I've a couple of grenades I can throw to buy us a little more time to get settled in the opening."

"I leave it to you, then," Aiden replied. He focused on Justice again and nodded. "Yes, we're ready. Lead us."

Justice, of course, charged forward. The rest of us lingered back, mostly to avoid getting caught in an ambush. But, surprisingly, there wasn't one. We walked through the now-open gates to the manor and there was the Baroness just… walking around. She wasn't doing anything. It felt a little anticlimactic, truthfully.

"So, this is the world of mortals?" she whispered, not paying us the slightest of attention. "How very dull." She tapped her cheek, frowning. "It's so immutable and unchanging." She smiled slowly, laughing a little. "Yet, I am here. I have crossed the Veil…!" She laughed harder, clapping with almost childlike delight. "The spirits shall watch in envy as the mortals of this world bow before me!"

"You say that like we don't have people specifically trained to kill you," Aiden deadpanned. Yeah, he was completely done with all of this. I took over pushing people into 'proper' places. "There's this thing called 'Templars'. They're trained to fight demons. Among other things."

"As if they can do anything to me!"

"Individually? Maybe not. But an army can." Aiden swung then, and almost killed her right then and there. But she leaned back and contorted horribly. Every 'joint' in her body snapped and her form ripped apart, piece by piece, as the Dark Pride Demon twisted out of the form. "Well, that's actually somewhat impressive. Good job."

"Aiden, move please," I called. As soon as he jumped back, I threw two of Dworkin's 'experimental' explosions right at the demon. Though, I almost scorched off my own eyebrows because said explosions were much larger than I anticipated. They honestly reminded me of that Inferno spell Layla once used in the Fade, and probably a few other times that I couldn't remember because I was a little too busy not dying to a Pride Demon.

The next… however long it was… were rather grueling. The Baroness-Demon was determined to wipe us out. Fire rained from above. Ice spiked from below. There was a lot of dodging and ducking under swipes of claws. At one point, it tried to do something to the Fade, but Justice stopped it. I wasn't sure how or why or what, but I just let it do what it need to do. I called out instructions, and helped Nathaniel get up on the roof of the Manor, so that he had a better vantage point to snipe. Aiden and Oghren were the main damage dealers. I just did what I could while also guarding Velanna, who had the unenviable job of trying to make sure we didn't die via healing spells and barriers.

Noticing the Baroness-Demon trying to go after the one casting barriers on us, I slid in front of her as it tried to claw her. I almost looked away after I set up my shield to block, to give the next order, but then I remembered how that had cost me my right eye, so I focused back on it. It was a good thing, as it had pulled the same illusory trick. So, I barely blocked it in time, and was sent sliding back instead of braced, but I had done enough. Velanna had used the time to get to a better hiding spot, out of sight.

"Lord Nuada!" Aiden shouted. I glanced at him and he nodded at the demon's head. "Can you give me a boost?"

"You have quite a bit of faith in my strength," I retorted. Still, with the potion, I was a bit stronger and it wasn't that bad of a tactic. I'd done stupider and it worked. "I'm not taking responsibility if you break your leg or something."

"Yes, you will. That's how you are." Damn that he was right. "One… two…"

"Oh, wait until it's at least looking away from us!" I held my breath until Oghren and Nathaniel managed to snag its attention. I winced when Oghren took a bad injury, but I saw it heal up. I wondered where Justice was, but couldn't spare the time. "...Three."

I would never be able to explain how I managed to boost Aiden up. It wasn't to the head, obviously. But Aiden did get pretty damn high anyway, and he climbed up the demon's back to reach the head. He swung at its neck as hard as he could and jumped down the front to let gravity help him out. The result was a very awkward half-decapitation, Aiden bouncing off the demon's knee and landing on his ass, a lot of blood, and a very dead demon.

"You need to work on the landing," I deadpanned as soon as we were certain it was dead. Aiden gave me a dirty look, but I just dragged his sword over to him. "I hate pride demons."

"Same," Aiden sighed, taking the sword. He shrugged when I frowned. "What?"

"Do you mind reminding me when you fought them?"

"Soldier's Peak and Ortan thaig. Which actually reminds me." He looked around, wincing as his injuries started protesting. I was grateful Pride Demons didn't 'bleed', as otherwise, there would be a lot of red for him to also did with. "Oghren?"

"Yeah?" Oghren called. It still took a while, but I finally saw him flat on his back a short distance away, just resting. "What is it?"

"Did I ever learn why someone thought it would be a good idea to put dismembered remains on an altar?" Did he ever learn what now? This was not something that got shared.

"Accident, rather like the dragon." Oghren shrugged and waved his hand lazily. "We wanted to look inside and see if the remains were dwarves. So, we set them on something to better look. It turned out to be the Altar."

"Why not the ground?"

"That's too simple."

Patting Aiden on the shoulder, I went to check in on the others. Justice was fine, though he looked contemplative for reasons unknown. Velanna was a bit bruised and might need to be carried out because of exhaustion, but was otherwise fine. Nathaniel needed a bit of help getting down, but we managed that and limped over to the others. Though, I paused as we passed by a broken window. Just inside was an odd book. Far too curious, I picked it up and flipped through it. It was very tattered and it took a moment for me to realize it was a journal, signed by someone… I thought the name 'Fenela', but the light was just too dim for me to read. I'd have to study it later. So, I carefully tucked it into one of the few dry parts of my pack and rejoined the others, just in time to hear Aiden offer Justice a place in the Wardens. Because, why not?

The list of 'weird things we have experienced' was just getting longer and longer. But, I supposed that was a price for having the life I did. I wouldn't trade it for anything.

Chapter Text

Chapter 16) Law

Cleon POV

' Blood or coin, the Carta always gets its cut'. That's something her mother once told her. Now that she's the leader, she's the one who determines what sort of 'cut' it is. She's had a few idiots already try to oust her, thinking her too weak or too nice. They made for good exercise before dying, she supposed, and they did help her make something clear. She chose to be nice. She could easily choose not to be nice. Made deals easier. And boy, are there a lot of deals. Lyrium smuggling, slaving (though mostly, she helps them get out because damn if they don't remind her of herself), weapons… the Carta has hands in all of it. And it's all hers.

She's expanding their surface influence to get more information, more deals, more everything… combine it with what Bhelen is doing and there's a nice little profit being funneled into Dust Town. Makes her feel all warm and squishy. She's really got to thank the Wardens again. As soon as she was finished with this. She's sure they need more spies. Leaders always did.

" Natia, are you getting ready?" Rica pokes her head into her room, carrying sweet baby Endrin, her darling nephew. "You promised me that you would attend this dinner with me," she points out, sulking slightly. "Bhelen made sure your favorites were made."

" You've got yourself a nice fiance," she replies, messily finishing up her note. She'd send it out in the morning; it's a favor for Bhelen. Orzammar was dependent on the Carta and their black market to survive. Being nice to Bhelen made sure they kept their status, even as he opened up trade and the like. "Sorry, later than I thought. I'll get dressed. But if someone tries to trick me into some sort of marriage again…"

"Punch them out, of course."

"Love you."

"Love you too, Natia."

I was a little confused how we ended up in this situation. We arrived in Amaranthine, no big deal. Greeted a few people, got stared at by locals. Anders met an acquaintance, decided to check something out. Sigrun thought it sounded fun, Layla and I came along to help bullshit our way out of trouble if need be, and somehow, this led to us dealing with some Templar lady with absolutely no sense. Particularly common sense.

'Is she really stating that she has the right to bring Anders in?' I signed to Layla, not quite sure I'd read her translations correctly. Anders was too resigned to react, while Sigrun just looked so incredibly confused. I didn't blame her. 'Really?'

'She is,' Layla signed back. The lady was continuing to talk, speaking as if we had seen her. I honestly couldn't remember her. At all. And I'd think I'd remember a shemlen this annoying. 'She is talking a lot about nothing, truly, and states that she will bring Anders in to justice.'

'I thought not even the Chantry could deny a Warden's right to conscript?'

'That is correct.'

'What sort of madness did Fen'harel inflict her with?' I smiled innocently when the lady finally noticed that we weren't actually paying attention. 'Go be charming.'

'I am not Nuada.' Still, Layla put on her best smile. Sigrun silently asked why we hadn't killed the lady yet. I shrugged and mimed for her to wait. 'You were saying, ma'am?'

'Such rude children,' the lady scoffed. I was seriously fighting off a headache at this point. 'Regardless, the Chantry's authority-'

'The Chantry has no authority when it comes to Wardens. That is basics,' Layla countered easily. I began moving along the sides of the room, just waiting. Sigrun climbed onto a box to get a better view. Anders frowned in confusion. 'What was your next failing of a point?'

'You…!' The lady glared. I positioned myself behind her, quiet as you please or so I assumed. She didn't react to me, at least. 'This murderer cannot hide in the Wardens' ranks!'

'Wardens take criminals in all the time. Technically speaking, Aiden is a former one.' Though was that really a crime? Murder, yes, but crime? That was debatable. 'Regardless, no, you cannot have Anders.'

'Then I will take him by force!'

'You are aware that I am the Arlessa of Amaranthine, and Cleon is the Hero of Fereldan, yes?' Layla looked just so completely done. It was hilarious. 'Assuming you win, which you will not, what do you think will happen? Do you honestly think that you will be praised?' Layla shook her head, sighing so heavily that her shoulders moved with it. 'You would be executed as a traitor. The Divine herself will denounce you. She would have to, in order to save face. This is pointless.'

The lady tried to attack, but she wore no helmet or anything, so it was very easy to half-decapitate her. She fell quickly, and I remembered how I had always been warned that Templars were among the greatest of armies. And I had to admit the ones we fought alongside of had certainly proven that. But still, this woman…

'I wonder if she was suffering from the long-term effects of lyrium,' Anders signed, gestures almost absent. He had to sign the first words again because I didn't catch them. 'Paranoia, obsession…' And then a sign I didn't recognize.

'What was that?' I signed, hopping over the body to join the others. Sigrun gave me the biggest grin, while Layla just continued to look exasperated. 'That last one. What was it?'

Anders took my hand to spell out the word. D-E-M-E-N-T-I-A. Dementia. 'It's a broad category of brain diseases that gradually cause long term impairment to a person's ability to think and remember, to the point that it impacts their daily life. Emotional problems, difficulties with languages, and lack of motivation often accompany it.' He shrugged, glancing up at the ceiling. 'I wonder if she just forgot there were more people than Layla and me here.'

'You see the forgetfulness in miners who get some of the raw stuff on them," Sigrun added. She swung her legs around to sit on the box. 'They are super careful, guarding the secret of how to mine the lyrium safely like misers guard coin. That said; the stuff is volatile and sometimes explode without warning.' She shrugged off my incredulous look. I knew a bit about lyrium, but not that it was so dangerous. 'Of course, dwarves have a resistance to lyrium. If the raw stuff gets on humans and elves? I've heard it can be anything from nausea, blistering skin, and that forgetfulness again.'

'Well, human and elves who aren't mages,' Anders corrected. I poked Layla's side to make sure I was reading the signs correctly. She simply smiled bitterly. 'Mages can't even approach unprocessed lyrium. Extended time in proximity will kill us.'

'And why do you crazy non-Dalish use it?' I asked, unable to help it. I wouldn't say that Dalish didn't use lyrium ever, but I certainly hadn't dealt much with it. And I was very confused as to why. 'I know that it can help temporarily boost magic, but…'

'Oh, well, supposedly, lyrium allows Templars to use their abilities.' If that was the case, though, then how could Alistair, Aiden, and Nuada use them? Was it because of the power within the Blight? Was it something else? 'Many think, though, that… well…'

'Lyrium is addictive,' Layla signed slowly. Her eyes were sad, and there was a touch of a memory in her gaze. She had treated templars before. 'It is addictive and…'

'And there's no templar that's survived withdrawal,' Anders continued. His eyes also had a memory. Sigrun and I shared stunned-confusion looks. 'It is supposed to be painful, and certainly looked it in the few I had to treat. Fatigue, forgetfulness, unquenchable thirst…'

'Those are the early signs. Later symptoms include disorientation, an inability to distinguish between dream and reality…'

'Nightmares, immense pain…' Anders shrugged. 'They die from withdrawal. Or go mad.'

'That just sucks,' Sigrun replied, showing a fantastic talent for understatement. I nudged Layla to the side as I noticed the blood from the body slowly trickling towards us. We probably shouldn't be talking so much over a corpse, but… well, it wasn't the first time. 'Wait, but doesn't the Chantry control all the legitimate lyrium trade here on the surface?'

'They do,' Anders confirmed. And I found myself growling to Elgar'nan when I finally made the connection. Lyrium made sure one of the best-trained forces in all of Thedas remained within the Chantry, dependent on them even. Probably what encouraged zealotry over basic morals. You didn't want to anger your lifeline. 'Yeah, I know. Much as I hate them, I can acknowledge the Chantry is shit to them too. But at least they chose the life, unlike mages.'

'That sounds like a fun conversation, but can we go? Before we have to explain to the guards what happened.'

'I think we have to anyway.'

'Ancestor's balls.'

Anders and Sigrun bickered back and forth as they left. I, however, stopped Layla and waited for them to leave. 'Alistair said he was given to the Chantry at ten, right?' I asked. I remembered being told that, at least. It reminded me of how Merrill had been given to Sabrae, because of her magical talents. But Sabrae had treated her as family, and the Chantry… well, it didn't do that with Alistair. 'Was that an unusually young age?'

'No, it is not,' Layla signed back. She looked down sadly. 'Cullen was thirteen when he joined, and he was an older recruit.'

'I see.' In that case, I failed to see how that was a choice. There was no way a young child could understand such consequences. And, again, Alistair had been given to the Chantry. Others like him were forced to be Templars. There wasn't any choice at all. Not informed ones. Not proper ones.

I wasn't sure why the knowledge that the Chantry screwed over yet another group of people surprised me. Guess I didn't think they could get any worse.

Surprisingly, we had a delightful talk with the guard about killing a templar in one of their storage sheds. Not at all sarcastic, either. Apparently, she had been bothering them as well and the Chantry had been trying to get someone to deal with her. So, it ended up being quietly dealt with, no big deal especially since the Chantry didn't want it to get out that one of their templars tried to attack two heroes, and we learned that the guard was actually having trouble with something.

Apparently, dangerous conditions on the road led to slowing of trade. Somehow, that led to smugglers sneaking things in and charging far too much for necessities. Sigrun thought it made sense, but if baffled Layla and me. Still, we agreed to help out and that led to a city wide chase and us climbing into some underground cave network to deal with people who really couldn't fight all that well. The tunnels worried Layla and me and there had been extensive talks to block them off as soon as the guard here got all the supplies out. I worried they'd move too slow on it, but… well, we did what we could.

And speaking of what we could do, Layla and Anders decided, afterwards, to set up a temporary clinic or something in the Chantry to help some of the injured and ill. And turned into a damn stampede because a) free medical care was the best thing ever to them, b) they wanted to meet their Arlessa, and c) they wanted to meet the Heroes of the Blight. I spent far too long just smiling at people and letting them babble without actually replying or anything. I couldn't really, because I didn't know what they were saying. Layla and Anders were healing and even Sigrun had been dragged off for something, meaning I had no one to sign for me. Rather frustrating, truthfully.

I smiled and nodded at some person rambling about something, feeling my face numb up from the smile, almost as numb as my ass was from sitting. I had no idea how Nuada could go around with a smile all the time. Maybe it was just like any other muscle. I'd ask. For now, I was bored enough to mentally recite every prayer, song, and story I knew of the Creators. Separated out by each Creator. In alphabetical order. I was on Mythal.

I caught signing out of the corner of my eye and glanced over, wondering if one of the others was trying to catch my attention or if they were signing out of habit. It turned out to be the latter, sadly, as Anders and Layla were far too engrossed in their own conversation.

'I'd love to run a clinic someday,' Anders signed. His hands were bloody, like he had just finished stitching someone's injuries. 'A free one, so that people only have to worry about getting better.'

'We can set something up at the Keep!' Layla replied, her face and signs were alight with excitement. She had some dried herbs stuck in her hair. 'Though, things do have to calm down first.'

'True. Ah, next one!'

'Yes!' The two of them went back to work, and I focused again on just smiling and nodding and being the nice little doll for people to… I didn't even know. It was definitely uncomfortable. I was a normal… well, I wasn't really 'normal'. I was a Warden, the exact opposite of normal. I also survived killing the Archdemon, which…

Something must've shown on my expression because someone finally got the crowd away from me and let me go relax in a corner, far away from people. I leaned against the wall gratefully, closing my eyes and enjoying the fact that I no longer had to smile. I also no longer had to sit, and my ass was very grateful for that little fact. But being able to relax was very, very nice.

Once I felt a little more like myself, I looked around the room, checking on everyone. Layla and Anders were, of course, continuing to treat people. At this point, I was certain every person in Amaranthine, and the nearby villages, were getting full checkups today. Sigrun wasn't far away, surprisingly playing with the children. I watched for a while and saw her pulling sleight-of-hand tricks to keep them entertained while their parents were being treated. She was very good at it, and the children were all smiling and clapping. I knew they cheered, just by their expressions.

But the thought of 'child' inevitably turned my thoughts back to my own. Now, of course, maybe it was arrogant to l think of them as 'mine', but I… I didn't want them to grow up like me, wondering if they just weren't loved enough. I knew that Morrigan had said to let her walk away and I should respect that. I knew I should. But I at least… I at least wanted to meet them once. I at least wanted to make sure they were okay, that Morrigan was okay. Even if, as Loghain said, I was falling out of love, or whatever it was, with her, she was still a friend. And I…

Someone poked my nose. I blinked slowly, not quite comprehending, until I saw Layla standing in front of me with a distinct frown on her face. 'You are scowling,' she signed. I looked behind her, noticing the still large number of people gathered in the 'clinic' area. 'Anders can handle it alone. What is wrong?'

'It is…' I began. I was prepared to push it off, knowing that if I did, she would back off. That was how we four were. We knew that things were difficult to talk about. We knew each of us was scarred and hurting. Maybe that was why we continued to group together and 'isolate' ourselves, as Sigrun and Anders thought. Going through the Blight had changed us, but our scattered group just understood. The new Wardens didn't. Not yet. But the others did. 'Morrigan.' But because I knew Layla understood… I knew I didn't need to keep pushing it off.

'It was super mean of her to leave without a better goodbye.' Layla scowled and puffed out her cheeks like a particularly mad chipmunk. 'She also just left while pregnant! Does she really think we would not be worried about her? Pregnancy is hard on the body!'

'It is.' I remembered all the health issues Lyna went through. 'But it is not necessarily her leaving…'

'It is the child, right?' Layla swung to my side and leaned in reassuringly. 'It is the child born so that you could continue to live, so that we could continue to live.'

'You picked that up quicker than I thought.'

'All of us are worried, both about her and about the child. It does not settle well, to not see the child we, in a way, sacrificed.' She shrugged. 'But that is neither here nor there. We are focused on you.'

'Of course.' Still, it was comforting to know they were also worried. 'What bothers me the most is… if she wishes, I don't need to be their father, per se, but I would like to be part of their life.'

'You wouldn't mind being the child's father, though. You'd love it, even.' Of course, she saw the heart of it easily. 'You had wanted a family with Merrill, didn't you?'

'I'm surprised you remember her name.'

'You say it often enough, and I found it all very sad.' She poked my cheek, smiling when I made a face. 'You also get a sweet smile on your face whenever she comes up.'

'Do I, huh?' I had never noticed. 'But, you're right. I had. Back then, I dreamed of being a hunter for the rest of my days, teasing Tamlen and Lyna, spoiling their children, spoiling mine…' I sighed and let my hands fall, unable to continue. It really had been all I had wanted before all of this.

'All of our lives changed because of the Blight.' And it wasn't even just 'our' lives. It was everyone. The Blight changed Fereldan forever. Honestly, it probably changed Thedas forever, much like the previous Blights. 'We gained a lot, but…'

'Traumatic as everything was, I wouldn't change any of it. I love you all dearly. I like the life I have now.' But it was bitter, remembering what could have been. It was bitter, remembering what had been lost. Even if, by some miracle, I did connect with Merrill again, have a family with her, I would always be away on Warden business. Tamlen was dead. What could have been… it had no chance of happening. Not anymore.

'Still, that does not mean we have to just watch everything pass us by. When things settle down, we should make a point to finding Morrigan. She's a friend, and we're worried too.' Layla smiled brightly and warmly, very much like the sun. Honestly, 'like the sun' described her well. 'We should also try to see your Clan.'

'That…' I tried to sign more, but I couldn't. I couldn't find the words I wanted.

She poked my cheek, still smiling. 'It isn't fair that you can't see everyone, when the rest of us can. I can always visit the Tower to see Irving, or the castle to visit Neria. Nuada can visit Highever and the castle, though I suppose it's hard to visit…'

'The ones that died?'

'I suppose that can apply to Aiden and me as well, though we managed to escape pretty well on family.' That was true. If nothing else, I could state that few of my Clan had died during the Blight. Honestly, Tamlen was the only one. 'Regardless, though, he can and Aiden can visit the Alienage. But you can't just visit your Clan, right?'

'They went to the Free Marches, yes.' I smiled softly and pulled her into a hug. 'But I do have my sister and my mother-figure here. I just have to visit the castle to see them. I can visit the settlement in the Hinterlands to visit many friends.'

'True.' She pouted, though, with a stubborn light in her eyes. 'But we are going to arrange it!'

'Yes, yes.' I noticed a minstrel playing in the corner now, and nudged Layla. 'What are the lyrics?'

'Ah, give me a moment to listen a bit. I have never heard it before.'

When Layla finally did sign out the lyrics, I wasn't sure if I was more amused or exasperated. The lyrics matched the ones Leliana had come up with at Soldier's Peak. In fact, it was the one she'd made up about Nuada and Layla. It was hilarious how red Layla turned when I explained it too her, though.

Bitter as I was about how things changed, I really would never give up this life for anything. It was far too fun.

Chapter Text

Chapter 17) Future's Blessings

Layla POV

Marching to Orlais. He never thought he'd see the day. He can hear Maric laughing and laughing at the irony. He can also hear Maric crying, screaming, and generally just hating him. He made such a mess of things, really. He tried, but he was wrong and, worst, he didn't admit he was wrong. It reminded him of what that witch had said. Betray and betray… he'd certainly lived up to that prophecy. But Maric had been his best friend anyway. The world was a lot dimmer without him. Without Rowan.

But it's not without light entirely. Anora still lives, and that Alistair fellow has just enough of Maric in him that he can't help but think he'll do okay. Particularly when Nuada and Elspeth are helping him. The future isn't as bright as it used to be, but there's still light. There's still hope. He can live with that.

"Aw… who is the cutest widdle thing~?" Anders cooed over Ser-Pounce-A-Lot, a kitten one of the servants had found half-drowned in the courtyard. I had promptly snatched him up and dropped him in Anders's lap. The result was, adorably, Anders making baby noises and squeals and Ser-Pounce-A-Lot purring up a storm. Though, I did half-wish they would move to his room instead of lounging in my study. They were quite distracting. "Layla! He's got the squishiest paws!"

"I am glad you are enjoying your gift," I replied dryly, frowning over scouting reports. There was a distinct lack of… anything, and that worried me. Threats did not just simply disappear. They prepped for something big. "You were attached to Mister Wiggums."

"Took down three templars! Though, I hope Ser-Pounce-A-Lot has a much quieter life."

"Thankfully, the Veil is not very thin here. I doubt a rage demon will confuse him for a person." It had still been one of the oddest days, seeing one of the mousers suddenly turn into a rage abomination. I was half-certain someone tried a summoning circle and botched it. "He should have a nice life here at the Vigil."

"He should!" Anders laughed and flopped down on the floor, letting Ser-Pounce-A-Lot crawl all over him. "By the way, is he a bribe to not go running off? It'll be harder to travel with a cat."

"Wardens go where they are needed, so no, it is not a bribe." I thumbed through the report talking of how the repairs to the walls were going well, the armor for the militia was going even better, and that gate-wall thing Cleon, Nathanial, and Velanna had found was almost completely fixed and ready for use. "No one knew what to do with the poor thing, and I remembered you like cats."

"Did I tell you I like cats or is that just one of those 'this is stupidly obvious' things?"

"Half of your stories whenever you returned involved how adorable the stray cats were and you would forget to give us your presents to tell us about them."

"And then Neria and Jowan would prod and tickle me until I remembered." Anders laughed warmly. "I still need to see you."

"You also need to write her. I told her you were here, and I believe I have gotten twelve letters from her."

"Ouch, okay, I'll write." Anders kissed Ser-Pounce-A-Lot's head and got a lick on his nose in thanks. "I wonder if she still has those trinkets and portraits."

"She has the ones that managed to survive Uldred's assault. I have all of mine, since she packed them before me." By some miracle of the Maker, I had not lost a single one. "A few of her portraits were destroyed, so she stole Jowan's. They were still there, and it is not like he will need them."

"True." Anders fell quiet for a while, and I focused on reading through more of the reports, focusing on the notes from the merchants. With things calm in the Wending Woods again, trade was flowing. Based on what I knew from Velanna, I planned on letting the merchants through until we had ample supplies before confronting them on how they set fire to the forests near the Dalish camps to drive them out. I was not going to let things like that stand. "Say, Layla?"

"Yes?"

"Jowan was a blood mage."

"He was."

"He was a blood mage, gave it up, fell in love, planned to leave, and then… well, everything went wrong." Anders sat up and let Ser-Pounce-A-Lot crawl onto his shoulders, still purring. He really liked being all warm and dry. "Why? Did he ever say?"

"Neria is going through his things, the ones that survived the templar investigation and Uldred's attack, but if she has found anything, she has not told me." I frowned over the numbers for our grain stores. They seemed low, even accounting for everything. I would talk to Varel later about it. "I did not have a chance to ask him. He ran when he revealed it, and when I saw him again, when I saw him for the last time, I…" I had to pause against the rush of tears. "There was too much going on." I still remembered it, though. I still remembered killing him to save Connor, at his insistence. He had wanted to make up for his mistakes, and to make up for traumatizing Connor so. "There was far too much going on."

"I understand. It just…" He paused, scratching Ser-Pounce-A-Lot under the chin. I glanced out the window and guessed by the amount of sunlight that it was almost lunch. "Jowan never seemed one for power, you know? He was better suited to teaching and never seemed to mind it."

"I thought so as well." It was telling that, despite everything that happened, Connor apparently had a brilliant grasp of the basics. He was Irving's apprentice now because of it, learning how to turn those basics into actual spellcasting and attempting to heal from his trauma. I had asked to visit, but Irving had refused. Connor wasn't up for any sort of visitors. "He seemed to love it when the smaller apprentices came to him for help or comfort."

"That's what I always saw. Andraste's knickers, he helped me get comfortable with my magic."

"He was the one who helped introduce me to the others, when it was my first day." It was painful, remembering. "I had thought he was happy. I never would have thought…" I had not known him nearly as well as I had thought. Now, I would never truly get the chance to fix that. "I suppose it could have been power, though. I am almost certain he was a warrior mage. You remember how much trouble he had with the elemental and primal spells."

"A… what?" Anders looked at me in confusion, but that just reminded me of something I had not done yet. I needed to write the Circles… "I've never heard…" He yelped when I suddenly jumped to my feet and rummaged through some papers and pens, hunting for blank. "Layla?"

"What are all the Circles again?" I jotted down the ones I knew. There were fourteen or fifteen throughout Thedas, if I remembered correctly. Kinloch Hold. Kirkwall Gallows. Ostwick Circle. Hossberg. White Spire. Cumberland. Perendale. Dairsmuid. "Urgh…"

"I can help you remember, but why?" Anders brought up Ser-Pounce-A-Lot who meowed in confusion. "And a what?"

"It… oh, I have not told you yet." I sat down again, trying to think of how to explain. 'I accidentally obtained the memories of a centuries-dead elven warrior' was the truth, but that required more explanation than I wanted to give. I had adapted well enough, but it was more than a little odd. "During the Blight, we ended up discovering a few bits of elven lore." That was true enough. "One of the things we discovered was something that best translates as 'warrior mages'."

"And those are?" Anders held up Ser-Pounce-A-Lot in front of his face and waved his little paw at me. "What are they, Enchanter Amell?" He pitched his voice high to be like a child's and I collapsed on my desk in giggles. "Those weren't in our notes!"

"It would have been Enchanter Layla, Anders. I am unusual in that I knew, and kept, my last name." Many did not, since they had been thrown out by their parents. Jowan's mother had called him a 'demon child'. I might not have kept my own, except I had vague, but good, memories of my mother and the other 'Amells' I met. My 'father' had not been an Amell. "Oh, whatever. Put the poor cat down, Anders."

"Fine, fine." He set Ser-Pounce-A-Lot in his lap, where the adorable cat curled up, purring again. "So?"

"You know how there are Somniari?"

"The Dreamers, right? Mages capable of entering the Fade at will, without the need for lyrium or blood magic." Anders hummed a bit in thought, a song I recognized but only because he often hummed or sang it while working. He never taught it to me, or even told me the name. "The presence of demons is painful to them, however, because of that sensitivity to the Fade. They're very attractive to demons as well, and often don't survive long because of that. Their minds are too fragile to endure a possession. As such, outside of the Imperium, there hasn't been on in… two ages, I believe?"

"Yes, they are a specific type of mage. You and I are the more typical mages, with the power to command the elements at will and able to endure and resist a demon's call if the need came." Truthfully, Anders and I were supposedly particularly adept at resisting that corruptive influence. That was why we had both been allowed to pursue the path of a Spirit Healer. "But, Anders, there are others!"

"Well, there are the Seers in Rivain, though something tells me that you're referring to something different."

"The Seers allow themselves to be possessed and the like, and that might be what I am referring to, but I do not know. But…!" I jumped to my feet, excited now. "But no, there are others! Their magic flows differently through them, like with the Dreamers!"

"And how, exactly?"

"You remember how Jowan struggled with the basic elemental magic?" I bounced on my toes, barely waiting for him to nod before I continued. "I bet if he actually pursued creation spells or entropy or arcane, he would have been far better than us! That would have been how his magic flowed through him!" But he never did. Entropy unnerved him, Anders and I focused on creation spells because of healing, and Neria was a master of the Arcane branch. "But they are instinctual masters of those branches or… well…" I frowned, grimacing. "I suppose that would depend on where a spell is classified…"

"You would think that there would think there would be some sort of universal classification system for magic, but no, that's too simple!" Anders scowled. "Feels like every Circle has its own way to define magic. But I think I catch your meaning. The fire and ice are difficult, but they'd probably could heal more with a simple 'heal' spell than some Spirit Healers can?"

"Yes! They can also instinctually call on spiritual weapons, without a hilt like the Knight Enchanters, and they can easily break people's minds with entropy and…" I paused and took a deep breath to calm myself down. "The point is, though, is that they would have to be taught differently. The system as it stands now…"

"You'd have more luck teaching a stone how to fly. And then they might turn to blood magic to get the power needed to just be 'normal'." Anders stood up then, with Ser-Pounce-A-Lot complaining until Anders helped him up onto his shoulder. "Here, I'll help you with that list."

"Thank you." I smiled brightly at him. "Thank you very much!"

"Layla, have you thought about children?" The question made me pause and slowly drag myself out of my letter writing. At Cleon's suggestion, I was writing to Keeper Elindra of the Ralaferin Clan, because he thought they might be amenable to sharing knowledge with me due to the actions of their former Keeper, Gisharel, especially in exchange for my knowledge of the Arcane Warriors. I did not really want to 'trade' for it, but Cleon suggested it. With the settlement in the Hinterlands, more knowledge might help reduce attacks like what those merchants had done… "Layla?"

"I am sorry," I blurted, sitting back in my chair. It took a few more blinks to remind myself that I was in my study again, this time after a very nice lunch, writing letters to people with Anora. "I was caught up."

"I can tell," Anora laughed from her own little table by the window. Her smile was kind, though. "I asked if you have thought about children."

"Ah… hmm…" I frowned as I thought, absently spinning my pen about my fingers. The late afternoon sunlight made the room almost sparkle, especially on the wet ink of our various replies. "No, I have not. In the Circle, if a mage ended up pregnant and carried the child to term, they were taken from their mothers." Anders and I had helped deliver a couple of them, due to our healing magic. Most of the mothers had a heartbreaking resigned look on their faces when I had to take their children out of their arms. I remembered how a few had even cried. I had not, perhaps because of my youth, but I knew Anders had. He had screamed about it even, about how the Circle took away everything. "Unless you are very influential, or have very influential friends, the mother never learns. Sometimes, most of the time actually, they do not even learn their child's name."

"That's…" Anora fell silent, with her expression locking up. It took her a while to reply. "That sounds inhumane."

"The Chantry goes through great lengths to ensure there are few in a Circle who share blood ties. Though, bribes can also go a long way for that." It was a combination of both that led to me being sent to Kinloch Hold. "Templars are discouraged to have families as well."

"It still…" Anora fell silent again, but this time, I saw the pain in her eyes. I remembered how I had been told Anora and Cailan had difficulties having a child over five years of marriage. I wondered if she had wanted a child beyond the need for an heir. "So, you have never thought about it?"

"Ah, yes, I have not." I accepted the redirect and decided to go one better. "I have, however, noticed that my periods have been extremely spaced out. I think I have only bled once since my Harrowing, before Ostagar."

"Really?" Anora tapped her pen on her table, thinking. "You know; now that I think about it, Cailan once mentioned to me that Wardens have reduced fertility. I had thought it an odd fact to know and didn't pay much attention to it." I thought about how, in Ostagar, Cailan had apparently been looking into whether or not he was sterile and the one causing 'issues' with having an heir. I wondered if he had learned because of that research. "There were a lot of things I should have paid more attention to."

"You miss him."

"Terribly." She sighed and smiled sadly. "He wasn't the best husband, or the best king, but he was kind and he tried his hardest. He could've become good at both, if there had been a little more time. If he and I actually talked to each other more." She looked down and held her pen tightly enough to shake. "He was a good man. He deserved a better death. He deserved a longer life. And now, people are just going to remember him as a glory-hound, instead of someone..."

"Based on Nuada, I can guess that he played the fool to make people smile and give them courage." I remembered how blunt Cleon had been, and how genuinely horrified he had been at the way the elves were treated. I remembered how Cleon had called him 'shem king' and he had taken no offense. "He was very kind, at the camp. He did his best to show us around so that we would not get lost."

"Never the sharpest tool in the shed, but no one could fault how kind he was." She laughed bitterly. "Each time my period came, I would be so frustrated and upset that I cried. It was another month of dealing with everyone's pointed questions, another month of pretending I didn't see their sneers or hear their laughs. It was tiring and it was painful." She closed her eyes, smiling slightly. I thought she was holding back tears. "But each time, Cailan would say something silly or do something ridiculous to cheer me up again. Even with his affairs, he always made sure I had something to make me smile, be it a silly story, or my favorite treat." She sighed and opened her eyes again to look at her letters. "I hope they don't blame Elspeth as they did me. She is younger, thankfully, so she should have more time, but..."

"Ah…" But I could hear the hidden words. If Wardens did have a reduced fertility, then we might have only delayed the succession crisis here in Fereldan, not solved it. "Um… Oh, who is Ser Aaron?" I picked up the letter from him and skimmed through it. "He sent me something."

"Hmm? Oh, Ser Aaron Hawthorne. He was a child soldier during the Rebellion, one of sadly many, and was one of the youngest knights in Fereldan. Knighted at fifteen after he helped prevent another escalation of the war." Anora's smile became kind and warm again. "Maric offered to give him lands, especially since his family had died during the Occupation, but he opted instead to be a wandering knight. He's served valiantly ever since, essentially being an unofficial ambassador for Fereldan." She laughed, and it sounded mostly happy. "He's a kind man, and a damn brilliant storyteller, if you can forgive the curse."

"I can tell." I relaxed in my chair as I read through his words. It was filled with encouragement, stories that made me smile, and the like. What touched me the most, though, was how he 'knew' I was doing all I could with everything being against me as it was. 'Knew'. He had never met me, but he believed I was doing my best. That meant a lot. I needed to make sure Alistair knew of him. "I will have to think of a good reply." For now, though, I set it to the side again and returned to writing to Keeper Elindra.

There was a lot of work to make the future brighter than the present, but I believed we could do it, one step at a time. These letters would be among those steps. I was certain of it.

Chapter Text

Interlude - Nathaniel

"This… thing you spoke of…" Justice begins quietly as the all walk down the path. It takes him a moment to realize Justice is talking to him, mostly because he sees how Aiden and Velanna are talking about something, while Nuada and Oghren are joking and laughing. "Switching bodies?"

"Ah, that," he replies, shrugging. It had been a random thought he'd had during their last conversation, more said to distract Justice from the whole 'imprisoned' thing. Justice is incapable of seeing things as morally grey, viewing everything as 'good' or 'evil'. He half wonders if the world will drive Justice mad because of it. "What of it?"

"Would such a thing not be abdominitable?" Justice looks almost distressed by the thought, as much as a dead, rotting face can show any sort of emotion. It is probably a bad thing that he's almost used to the smell. "Would it be permitted?"

"It's not as if someone is using the body." But the more he thinks on it, the more uncomfortable he does get. He's heard of Nevarran mages that do similar things, yet… "Still, not a bad thing to be wary of. It was just a thought." And, because his mind really wants to not worry about the thought of 'what if he uses the body of a friend?', it jumps to another. "So, what about a living host?"

"That is the act of demons." Justice's voice grows harsh and clipped. Nuada glances back at them worriedly, though he continues talking with Oghren. "Besides, I know not how. I do not even know how I came to reside in this body."

"Demons trick their hosts or force themselves upon them, from my understanding." He shrugs. "So, what if the person is willing?"

"What mortal would decide that?"

"Life? Love? Power? Why do people do anything?" He's honestly seen people do worse for less. "Perhaps together, you can do what you could not do alone. If you gave instead of taking, I at least would consider you no demon. Simply a helpful little spirit."

"I see…" Justice looks down, and he tries to not gag at the sight of the spine poking out of the neck. "It is something to consider. Thank you, Nathaniel."

Thankfully, Justice falls silent and he can relax and simply focus on what is around them. In the distance, he can see the walls of Vigil's Keep, and it looks as if someone is repairing them. Already, he can tell they're stronger and it makes him smile. It had been terrifying, being in the prisons, unable to do anything while he heard people die. He hopes that if there is another attack, he can actually help. Though really, he hopes that there's no attack at all. But he knows that's a foolish hope.

"So, is everyone okay?" Nuada appears at his side, and he glances over to see Oghren talking to Justice. "Things looked a little tense," he continues, careful to keep him on his blind side. It's still so odd to see Nuada's eyes. "Aiden and I were worried."

"He gets worried?" he jokes, looking to Aiden. However, Aiden looks like he's perfectly focused on whatever Velanna's talking about, so he guesses it is just one of those 'things' that the four senior Wardens have. Perhaps it is because of the stress of the Blight, but he's noticed the four understand each other easily and even without words. Then again, he's learned by now that they've gone through some weird shit. You practically had to know everyone well for that. "Regardless, yes, just some theorizing and whatnot to keep him from complaining about my sneaking in to steal my family's things."

"He really doesn't understand grey morality, huh?"

"Not at all." It's almost amusing, but he dreads the day it's no longer that. "However, there is something I've been meaning to ask you. Well, a couple of things, but..." Still, he hesitates, because his heart hurts. He's worried desperately about Delilah, there's so many unknowns, and he also… "No one has told me who killed Thomas."

"Ah." Nuada falls silent for a moment, studying him closely, before nodding. "Elspeth killed him."

"I see." Part of him wants to be outraged, but he can't muster enough energy to do so. He knows now what all happened at Highever. He knows what Thomas allowed. He knows that all were fair grounds for execution. Still, he also knows that Thomas had loved Elspeth, and he thinks the death is bitter for that reason alone. "Was it quick?"

"They had to chase him, because he ran, but from what I was told, it was a single arrow." Nuada watches him a moment before nodding. "You mentioned a 'couple' of things. What's the second?"

"Ah, yes." He's glad Nuada changes the subject. It's painful, thinking of Thomas's death. They had never been close, but at the same time, Thomas had been his little brother. "I was thinking I should write to my uncle and…" Uncle Leonas… he's never really had contact with him. He'd heard that Uncle Leonas disapproved of his parents' marriage, but that had always been the extent of things. But maybe he could try. Maybe it would help him understand what all went wrong.

"He'd love it." And Nuada smiles warmly, reassuringly. "Write one when we get back. I'll make sure it's sent."

"Thank you." This is not the life he expected by any means, but he does find his footing on the path anyway. Perhaps it was the path he had always been destined to take. Or maybe he's just getting lucky. He can believe that too.

Chapter Text

Chapter 18) Quiet

Aiden POV

He smiles and nods, pretending that he's listening to his brother while he plots out another story, maybe one he'll write. Maybe he won't. All depends on what the characters decide. He's just the author after all. But Andraste's tits, he wishes he was at the Hanged Man instead, playing cards with Thrask and Gallard. Not listening to his brother ramble about things for this expedition they were planning.

Protection, his brother says. But he knows better. They need more than protection. They need another partner. Someone strong and skilled, capable of bringing in the last of the coin needed to fund this damn thing. He turns his thoughts to the rumors he's heard, of a family that just might be exactly what he's looking for. The Hawkes, scions of the Amell family, refugees from Fereldan who not only survived, but thrived in the 'free city' of Kirkwall. The three eldest hold his attention the most, though. Minerva, Vesta, and Diana… you hear the names on everyone's lips. Minerva served with the Red Iron Mercenaries, becoming their greatest asset before she bowed out. Vesta and Diana were responsible for Athenril's smugglers becoming skilled enough to rival the Cotorie.

'If you want a job done right, see if the Hawkes are interested.' That is the advice on the lips of every informat in the business. And he has a job he wants done very right. So, he hopes he can entice them. Rather, he hopes he can talk to them. Once he starts talking, he wins. It's just a matter of getting that chance.

Once we were within the repaired and reinforced walls of Vigil's Keep, I felt myself relax without even thinking about it. It wasn't like the place was 'safe' or anything. It was still recovering. But there was something about everything that said 'it will be vigilant in your place'. Maybe the name? I didn't know. I did know that the others also relaxed and we were greeted warmly. And then people struggled to hide their nausea and horror when they noticed Justice. I had to fight off laughter, though it was mostly a 'yeah, welcome to my life' laughter.

Seneschal Varel and Mistress Layla both met us on the steps to the Keep proper. Seneschal Varel had to fight to keep his calm, and the more charitable part of me wondered if he recognized Kristoff's body. The rest of me was just amused, but that might've been because Mistress Layla was perfectly calm. Like she greeted groups with walking dead every day.

"Welcome home, everyone," she greeted with a kind and warm smile. No few people gave her weird looks. "It seems you have quite the story to report. Does our new comrade need to be iced or anything? I can take him to Anders and see about at least reducing the smell and maybe creating something to hide the bones poking out."

"Let's see about smell and slowing the decomposition, as I'm sure it's odd," I replied, barely keeping back laughter. This was all just too ridiculous. "Good to be home, though."

"I'm sure." She skipped down the steps, leaned up to kiss Lord Nuada's cheek, and then beckoned for Justice to follow her. Velanna ended up going along, mostly to make sure Justice did, in fact, follow her.

'It seems Fen'harel is playing quite the trick, one that might make Falon'din unhappy.' With the greetings done, Cleon stepped out from the shadow of the staircase and walked to Lord Nuada and me. Oghren and Nathaniel decided to ask Seneschal Varel about much needed baths. 'What happened?' he signed, studying us closely. 'You look haggard.'

"Haggard is probably an understatement," Lord Nuada replied. Now that we were home, he let some of his exhaustion through and his signs were tired, lethargic even. "The marsh was a little rougher than anticipated."

'Even by our standards?'

"We ended up in the Fade, actually." Nuada threw up his hands in a 'I do not even know' gesture when Cleon's jaw dropped. "I know. I know. We got some information about this damned Civil War, sort of."

'Well, damn.' Cleon smiled sympathetically. 'You will be happy to know, though, that we dealt with the conspirators, charmed the people of Amaranthine, and dealt with an insane templar.'

"Sounds like you all had fun too," I noted, laughing tiredly. It really was nice to be back. "Anything that'll come bite us in the ass?"

'There are some tunnels that someone might use to infiltrate Amaranthine, but otherwise, nothing expected,' Cleon reassured. He looked at both of us again and promptly pushed us up the stairs, pausing only to continue signing. 'Inside. Rest. We can deal with important stuff in a day or so.'

"Unless the world implodes on us."

'The world can deal with its own damn mess for one day.'

Cleon continued bullying us down the hall, but I managed to duck away under the excuse of being starving, hungry enough to eat Soris's rat stew and he was just plain bad at cooking rat. Then, after acquiring a snack, I decided to check in on the only Warden I hadn't at least heard about upon returning: Sigrun. It took quite a bit of asking, surprisingly, but eventually, I found her in the library, voraciously reading some book. She quickly finished it and darted to the shelves to grab another one, but then stared at all the books with sparkling eyes. Eyes that flicked from one to the next, no idea where to start.

"Hmm? My, you read fast." Surprisingly, though, Anora was also here, and she laughed at Sigrun's enthusiasm from the table she read out. She had a large stack of books around her, hinting she'd been reading here for a while. "Would you like another recommendation?" she asked kindly, already standing up. Sigrun nodded vigorously. "Let's see... ah, how about this one?" Anora pulled a book from the shelf and handed it to Sigrun. "It's by an author named 'Varric Tethras'. Fictional, though. Do you like those?"

"Yeah, they're great!" Sigrun laughed, tucking the book against her chest. "They really bend the imagination, and yet, they make more sense than my life!"

"Reality is stranger than fiction many days." Anora giggled and returned to her chair and stack of books. "Let me know what you think? Elspeth really likes that one."

Deciding that there was no reason to interrupt Sigrun's reading, I instead left the library without another word, finishing up my snack along the way. From there, I promptly got lost in the Keep and had to sheepishly ask around for where my room actually was. When I arrived, I found a hot bath waiting for me, a note from Cleon stating that he ordered one for me, and a letter from Zevran. I eagerly opened it and read through the words with a smile, determined to memorize each and every line. Ah, I wished he was here. I could use the massage. And the cuddles. And the kisses. But, I'd take the letter. And that warm bath because damn it, I needed it. But I had needed this letter too. This reassurance that he was still alive, still thinking of me. It meant more than I expected, and I quietly admitted that even though things had been so incredibly hectic, I missed him terribly. No, no 'even though'. I missed him because it was so hectic. I missed him because he wasn't here.

This was something I needed to get used to, but that didn't mean I had to like it. I'd be sure to give him a proper 'welcome back' when I saw him again. For now, the letters really would do.

After a long and relaxing soak, an equally long and restful nap, and eating half of my weight in whatever various things we had in the kitchens, I meandered my way through the Keep, listening to the gossip, and ended up on the balcony on the second floor, looking out over the courtyard. Below, Lord Nuada, Nathaniel, and Anders all played with various children. I had no idea why we had so many here, really, but...

"Now, is this not a fun sight?" Mistress Layla giggled as she joined me out on the balcony. She wore a slightly fancier dress than normal, so I wondered if she'd just got done dealing with some nobles. "I am sure they enjoy having more playmates," Layla giggled, resting her hands on the railing. "I am also certain Anders enjoys having the help!"

"I take it Anders has done this quite a few times?" I asked, leaning against the railing myself. I glanced around, curious about where Cleon, Oghren, Velanna, or Sigrun might be. But there was no danger at the moment, so I decided against asking when I didn't see them. "Where are the children even from?"

"Some are refugees, truthfully. Nearby villages destroyed by the darkspawn roaming about. Others are families of soldiers, brought here for safety, or families of the servants." She smiled faintly and sadly. "The Keep provides more protection than a simple village, even if it comes with its own dangers."

"I see." I looked down at all the children with a new perspective. Each one suddenly represented a village we couldn't save, or a family that placed its hopes in us. Rather somber, really, and a reminder of the burden we 'heroes' had on our shoulders. "Too serious."

"Yes, that is too serious. You are much too tired for that." She giggled and looked at me. "Say, have you thought about children?"

"That's… okay, I suppose it's not out of nowhere." Still, not what I'd expected. "The answer is no, not really. I've some experience from the Alienage, but in my opinion, if your answer to 'do you want children' isn't a resounding yes, you shouldn't have them. You can't exactly give them back." The thought was interesting, though. "I suppose Zevran and I could adopt if the urge comes. At the moment, his stuff with the Crows and my stuff with the Wardens don't exactly lend themselves to proper parenting."

"I suppose so." She hummed a bit, absently playing with some strands that had escaped her braided-bun. "Anora and I talked a bit about it. I must admit that I am considering it."

"Well, you and Lord Nuada wouldn't be traveling nearly as much as I will. Your duties will keep you both rather firmly in Fereldan."

"That is true. When things settle down, I think I will talk to Nuada about it." She sighed, though. "That said, Wardens apparently suffer from reduced fertility, so we would likely have to adopt. That is not a bad thing, mind. We should do that anyway. There must be lots of orphans."

"That is very true, and you and Lord Nuada will be quite rich." I paused and looked at her. "Though ah… maybe don't adopt elves? We are proud of our culture. You can get some… well…"

"Oh, no! That would be like stealing your children!" She shook her head and I smiled, relieved she caught why it was a little… well… "I mean; I would not mind taking care of some, but they should know their own culture. It would be better, probably, to increase funding to the Alienages."

"Exactly." This was why I loved my friends. After we spent so much time with each other, we just understood. "And about birthing a child… well, Morrigan found a way, and we'll eventually find her, so we'll just ask then."

"That is true." She giggled. "You know; Cleon didn't realize that we had that planned."

"Really?" I rolled my eyes and sighed. "I mean… prickly as she could be, there's no doubt that she's a friend. We have to at least make sure she's okay."

"I know, yes?" She continued giggling and then looked up at the sky, watching the clouds pass by with a bright smile. "You know; when all this started, I hated the Maker. I hated Him for throwing me into all this chaos. I hated Him for forcing me into a path I never wanted. But now, I am rather happy with Him."

"Oh?"

"Yes." She laughed, still bright and cheerful. Like the sun, sparkling above. "There has been much suffering, and we have broken so many times that I no longer recognize the pieces, and yet, here I stand, happier than I ever had been in the Circle." She looked at me, still smiling. "So, perhaps the Maker was trying to guide me to this happier path."

"Or perhaps you defied His evil plots." The words were out before I could stop them, and I felt bad, but she continued smiling, so I kept going with the thought. "Made some happiness out of his butchery."

"Perhaps, but I do think I prefer the former." She laughed, unbothered, and I smiled back. "You and Nuada aren't exactly religious, though."

"Nope. You and Cleon are the religious ones."

"Yes, though I will admit that the Chantry needs a great many changes." Though she continued smiling, she became serious. "I meant what I said, about making the Alienage better. I want to try, and learn. So, when you can, may I have your help?"

"I am ever at your service, Mistress Layla." The words were more formal than I'd used in a while, especially around her, so I grinned to soften them. "And if I'm not here, I'll have a list of people you can ask."

"Wonderful!" She clapped her hands, giggling, and turned away from the railing. And promptly squeaked. "Ack!" I looked around, wondering who startled us, and I didn't see a thing. I only saw a small… "I! Hate! Spiders!" She ducked behind me, practically climbing up on the railing to get away from the tiny spider crawling along the wall. "They're icky and gross and creepy!"

"Aren't they good for the environment or something?" I couldn't believe she was freaking out so badly. I could understand the big ones that could eat you, but this was tiny!

"They can be good away from me!"

"So, we've fought demons, darkspawn, and dragons…" I started laughing and she shoved me. "Wow…!"

"Oh, shut up!"

"Is everything okay?" Lord Nuada called up then. He had left the children to frown worriedly at us, no doubt startled by Mistress Layla's yelps. "Layla? Aiden?"

"We're fine!" I managed through the laughter. This was too much! "It's just a spider!"

"Oh, ugh, they're creepy. They have too many legs." Nuada grimaced and I just laughed more. It wasn't a very nice thing, but it was just so… so normal of a fear. I couldn't help but be startled. "My dear, I can catch you if you want to escape."

I laughed even harder when Mistress Layla promptly took the escape, swinging right over the railing. Lord Nuada caught her easily, and kissed her cheek with a smile. I actually had to sit down because I was laughing so hard, to the point that when Cleon passed by, he sincerely worried there was something wrong with me!

Mistress Layla was right. There had been so much and we broken into a million little pieces. But I couldn't be happier right now, and I wouldn't trade any of this for anything.

Chapter Text

Interlude - Justice

It sees Kristoff's memories. Bits of lingering spirit, or perhaps they are things stored in this 'brain' mortals carry around in their skulls. But they give it a name for the woman who screamed and ran from him. Aura, Kristoff's wife, who should have remained wherever 'home' was, with their newborn child. Instead, she is here, and learned of her husband's death in the worst of ways.

It bothers him. Intentionally or not, it has done that woman a great disservice. It must rectify it somehow. Bring justice to her, and to her fallen husband. But it does not know what to do. It knows, longs, to assuage the pain, but does not know what to do. It does not even known how to bring it up with the Wardens, the protectors of this world from the vile blackness that is the darkspawn. Kind, they are, to allow him to help and avenge Kristoff's unjust death. But so kind that they would delay their purpose, simply for one mortal? Much as it feels justice must be given to Aura, it does not think the Wardens will deviate from their purpose. It is Justice, and justice is all it knows. Why should the Wardens be any different?

Though, that isn't to say that there are not other things unjust in this world. Truly, it is astonishing just how many injustices go unnoticed. It overheard, not long ago, Anders talking with 'Layla' about this Circle and the things it heard… they rankle him. Such oppression should be intolerable! These templars… this Chantry… that they should not only hold power, but be considered right? That their constant oppression is considered justified? Nonsense. At least these darkspawn have the excuse of being unthinking, normally. Mortals? Mortals have no such excuse. They are like demons, twisted by their own desires, and that cannot continue.

But what other injustices are there? It knows about the mages, but what else? What else is there? It's almost enough to drive it made, but it holds firm. It holds to its purpose. It is justice. It is Justice. It cannot lose itself. It cannot let itself be twisted. It will not be a demon. It is a spirit, and so, it will always be. No matter what, it will serve and strive to correct the world.

It needs to learn. This beautiful world is filled with such cruelty. It needs to learn, and then make it right. That is what it, and justice, is.

Chapter Text

Chapter 19) Bonds

Nuada POV

He's angry. It's not uncommon. Even he knows that he's always angry. Always scowling. Always… always not his siblings. Weaker than Minerva, less cheerful than Vesta, less 'balanced' than Diana, less adorable than Bethany… all of it reminds him of the whispers that follow him. 'Your dad died, so why aren't you the man of the house?' As if there was something wrong with listening to his sisters, when they were the older ones. Worse, though, is that they do, in fact, make him feel like there is. That there is something wrong with him, so that was why Minerva had to step up. That he was too weak, too lost, too… everything negative… to be relied on.

None of it helps the nightmares. Ostagar… all the dead and dying… all the screams… unable to do anything but run… it's hard to sleep. It's hard to breathe. He desperately wants to run, to go do something. Be part of something, so that he can find his footing again. Kirkwall is a cesspool, dragging them all down. He doesn't want to drown. Not here. Not...

"Carver?" He blinks and there's Diana, smiling sweetly at him as she leans over him. "Hey there, little soldier," she teases, brushing the hair out of his face. He relaxes, because that's how Diana is. They've always been close. "Mind helping me? Figured I'd take Orion out for a bit of hunting." Orion barks happily, already by the door. "So?"

"Yeah, sounds good," he replies, standing. The idea of escaping, even for a moment, is wonderful. "Thanks."

"For what?" Her smile turns innocent, and he knows she knows what he meant. But she pretends otherwise, because she knows his bleeding pride likes it. And she indulges it, because she knows what it's like to feel 'different', even in your own family. "And off we go~!"

I'd expected to be out training, or at least spending time with everyone. I was aware of the isolation, and we needed to fix that. However, Nathaniel had asked me for a favor. He wanted some of his family's things, but legally speaking, he wasn't allowed to have them. A Cousland had to 'gift' it to him and, more importantly, a Cousland had to go through the items and confirm that there were no treacherous writings or whatnot. Even worse, though, was that each item had to actually be catalogued, with a signature on each one, meaning that I couldn't lie and say I did. It was bullshit, but Howe had been declared Oathbreaker. I had declared it. So, I had to deal with all the nonsense. Considering what Nathaniel had to deal with, it was a small price to pay. I did wish I knew why it had to be a Cousland, though. My best guess was because we were the liege family.

"I suppose this sort of thing is good practice for whatever other nonsense I'll be forced to deal with in the coming months," I murmured, going through the last chest. Surprisingly, there had been a lot of things to go through. It seemed the servants managed to save what they could, no doubt anticipating that any survivors might want them, and Varel was kind enough to leave the items be. "That said, I think I've been in here all damn morning!" The fact that I was in a cramped storage room didn't help either. I wanted sunshine. I wanted fresh air. I'd never been the type to enjoy being inside. That was part of why I'd always known I'd never 'fit' the typical noble's path. But now look where I was. Life was funny, sometimes. "Ugh… I just need to endure a little while longer…"

Sighing, I picked up each individual item, writing it down and signing off on it. Most were just little trinkets, things I barely paid any sort of attention to. At least, I didn't pay attention until I found a letter opener and I nearly dropped it when I realized I recognized it. It was… Fergus had given it to Howe two years ago, a birthday present. Confused, I set it down and studied the items scattered around me. I soon found a broach Elspeth got him last year. Carefully folded up in the corner was a drawing Oren had made a few months before all of this. Inside the trunk was a stack of letters from Father, carefully tied together with a neat ribbon, from over the years. Next to the letters was necklace I remembered Mother buying for him. Then there were other things… other gifts we had given him over the years. I didn't…

"Why are these here…?" I shakily picked up the items, looking for some tiny detail that would tell me that these weren't the gifts. I looked for anything that would tell me that I was wrong. But instead, I just became more and more certain. "Why does he have these? Why…?" He betrayed us. He killed us. He hated us. Why would he have…? Not all of the gifts were practical. Not all of the things were useful. Why…?

Shakily, I looked through and found a small book. I picked it up, wondering if it was one that we had given him over the years, but when I opened it up, I saw it was a journal. It was Howe's journal. He wrote in it infrequently, so it covered quite a few years. Almost immediately, I could see the poisonous, vicious jealousy and hatred Howe had for Father. I winced when I read entries about how he forced himself to smile and laugh, and how he longed to 'put Bryce in his proper place, in the ground'. It was painful. All those memories I had of their 'friendship'... it was painful.

Noticing the dates, I flipped to the year where I had first met Howe. But then I read words that made me drop the book entirely. 'I met Nuada and Elspeth. Hadn't seen them since they were babies. I was prepared to hate them. Fergus showed all of his father's nonsensical naivety and arrogance early. But Nuada and Elspeth… I want to hate them like I do Bryce, but there is something strangely charming about them. I suppose.'

Not believing the words, I flipped to another entry. My hands shook as I skimmed through, not able to believe anything. But this was Howe's journal. This was his writing. There would be no reason to lie here, of all places.

'Nuada seems to like history. Listens to me when I talk about it, gives me proper respect. Asks me questions, and smiles at the answers. I took him up to the ramparts and he laughed and laughed, eyes sparkling. He's a good lad. I think I'll buy him some history books.'

Each entry showed that… that...

'Elspeth made my favorite tea for me. It's a difficult blend to get right, and it's admittedly a bit off. But that she tried is… strange. But kind. Her small smile says that I'm a person to her. Not someone who has to prove himself. Strange. It's sweet, though. She's a kind girl.'

I continued flipping, continued hunting, for anything that showed his hatred towards me, towards Elspeth. It wasn't until I got to entries from the last two years that I found it, though. The words were blurred, but I managed to process them. He hated us because we were the 'perfect Couslands'. He hated us because of the reputation we had, the falsehood we held up for our people. We were the 'best', and he hated us for it. But Elspeth and me… he had loved us once. He had loved us. Those early memories… they hadn't… they hadn't been…

I collapsed, sobbing as I just completely broke down. They'd been real. They'd been real. Our mistake had been to continue pretending to be 'perfect'. Our mistake had been assuming he still felt the same. But those first memories had been real. But that just made everything hurt all the more.

I'd been right. My 'Uncle Rendon' had 'died' long ago, and we all had been the fools who let themselves be blinded. But he had existed. He had existed. I wasn't… I…

After my crying fit, I had to escape. I had to run. I had to get fresh air. So, I did a literal run across the ramparts, to get myself moving. Then, to cool down, I stood on the balcony of the Keep, the one that overlooked the courtyard, and watched Layla and Aiden train with the others. Aiden and Oghren were sparring, while Justice watched with a curious expression. Nathaniel and Sigrun practiced their shooting and throwing skills with the mages, who practiced their own targeting. Layla, Anders, and Velanna had turned it into a complete competition, and Nathaniel and Sigrun were doing their best to make it as difficult as possible. Cleon, surprisingly, wasn't down there. At least, it was a surprise until I felt someone tap my shoulder, and I turned to see he was with me. His slight, concerned smile told me he'd caught sight of me, and was up here to make sure…

"I'm fine," I reassured, signing the words carefully. I sulked at his skeptical look. "I really am. I just… I had to go through some of Howe's things."

'They still have some of that bastard's things?' Cleon asked, scowling. He pulled me into a hug, and I leaned briefly into him. He didn't continue until I pulled away. 'Fen'harel's teeth, we could've done it with you, you know.'

"I honestly wasn't expecting to be shaken so much." I had been just fine until I learned he still kept the gifts. "I'll talk more about it later. Promise."

'Then I will wait.' Cleon smiled reassuringly, and looked down at everyone in the courtyard. 'It is a slow process, getting to know everyone. But we are taking those steps.'

"We've got a lot to learn still." I studied him, noticing his signs were lighter than they had been in quite a long while. "You're looking lighter."

'I finally got my thoughts straight on Morrigan.' Cleon made a face. 'It was with Loghain's help though. I hate being grateful.'

"Ha!" I couldn't help but laugh, but my heart ached anyway. I still didn't quite know how to feel about him. At the same time, I didn't want to deal with that right now. There was too much already. "You going to go after her?"

'Certainly not right now. Too much going on.' Cleon poked my cheek. 'And there will be a lot going on in the future as well. Especially for you.'

"Don't I know it?" I almost listed it off, but then remembered I wouldn't be able to sign if I did. It annoyed me that I'd forgotten that. "Warden-Constable, Teyrn of Gwaren, King's Champion…"

'Arl of Amaranthine? Or is that not how things work?'

"What are you…? Oh." I blushed at the thought. "Uh… I… well…" I glanced down at Layla, and all too easily could see her in a wedding dress. Cleon hid a smile, guessing what I was thinking. "Technically, yes, but since I'd have my own lands, and would be it only by marriage, I wouldn't be very involved. It would just be yet another title."

'Interesting.' Cleon frowned thoughtfully, before grinning again. 'Still, that would be fun!'

"We haven't even talked about it yet!" I knew I was still horribly red, and the scar on my face almost hurt from it. Cleon continued grinning, as smug as Morrigan. "But I suppose we will, when things are calmer." My hands shook a little, effectively giving my signs a bit of a stammer. His grin grew. "After all, we're Wardens. We don't necessarily have to get-" I flinched when Cleon poked my head. "Hey!"

'Nope, you two are marrying.' Cleon had an almost comically serious expression on his face. It was 'almost' because I was sure he really was serious. 'I want a party.'

"I'm a noble. If you want a party, I can bullshit an excuse easily." I rolled my eyes, but laughter drew my attention downward. At some point, the separate training sessions had apparently turned into a free-for-all. Justice stayed out of it, looking super confused, but everyone else was running about having fun in a slightly-deadlier-version of tag. Layla's laugh was the loudest, and I smiled when I saw how bright she looked. "You know; I still can't believe she fell in love with me. I'm worried I won't be able to make her happy." I remembered what she had said when we confessed to each other. She would 'seize her own happiness'. But…

'Silly.' Cleon rolled his eyes. 'You give her happiness simply by existing. Just as you do to the rest of us.' He grinned. 'Even if you can be aggravating.'

"Well, it's part of a sibling's job to annoy the rest." I smiled back, glad he didn't let me just wallow in self-pity, and he hid a smile behind his hand. He knew that unspoken 'rule' as well. He had a twin. "Speaking of family, where is your Clan again?"

'My Clan? Sundermount.'

"That's Kirkwall…" I grimaced. It would take a while to come up with a reason to head there, damn it. "Be a while…"

'I am fine. I know they are alive. That is enough, for now.' Cleon smiled warmly. 'I also have my sister, niece, and mamae here.'

"That's true." Still, I had hoped it could be a little sooner. "They doing okay?"

'Lyna is adapting well to court life, it seems.' Cleon frowned a bit. 'I need to find a good gift to send to her and Athela, though. And to Ashalle.'

"The market in Amaranthine is pretty extensive. In some ways, it was more extensive than Denerim's." I smiled, remembering the trips I'd made. "They've got stalls with bunches of children's toys. I bought Oren a bunch there."

'That is good to know. I can only hope they have something safe for a baby, especially with everything so...' Cleon paused, thinking of a word before shrugging. 'Hectic.'

"Hectic is certainly a way to describe it." Though, it was a bit of an understatement. "How old is she again?"

'Athela? Six or seven months.' Cleon's eyes turned dark. 'She has Tamlen's smile. I wish he had gotten to see her. He had looked forward to being a father.'

"Shame that the Blight stole so much." I wanted to ask if he'd told Lyna just how Tamlen had truly died, but I already knew what the answer was. After all, I knew what I would've done with Elspeth. I would've hidden it, even knowing she might see through it. "But it didn't take everything."

'No, it didn't.' Cleon smiled down at everyone, who were apparently winding down from their practice-grame. 'We are still here. We still thrive, with Mythal's blessing and grace.'

"Yeah, we're still here." I leaned against the railing and waved to catch the attention of those below. "Nathaniel, if you're done, I've things for you!"

"Wait, you already did that?" Nathaniel called back up, sounding startled. I wasn't sure why. When people asked for a favor, I tried to do it as soon as possible. "Well, that's good. I've some news for you."

"Well, that sounds like fun." I wondered what it could be. The others looked confused, so he hadn't told them yet. "I'll meet you in the hall, then!"

After dinner, the four of us lounged about in the room Layla and I shared. It hadn't been on purpose, or even accident. The others just went to sleep. Well, Justice could've been awake. I had no idea if he did sleep. But he went wherever he normally did during the night, which we took as a sign to 'not disturb'. So, we relaxed, and studied the bottle of alcohol Oghren recommended we try. It was something he wanted out of his room, to work on not being quite as much of an alcoholic, and he mentioned something about wanting to know what we thought of it. Knowing it was Oghren, though… well, it made us a trifle reluctant.

"Okay, he'd never let us hear the end of it if at least one of us doesn't try it," Aiden noted reluctantly, poking the bottle so that it rattled against the floor, but stayed upright. The liquid inside sloshed about, some green sort of color that I wasn't sure was a 'good' green. "So…"

"I am not drinking it," Layla muttered, half-hiding behind me like the bottle was a snapping animal. She might've hidden fully if she didn't need Cleon to see her hands for her signing. "I do not drink."

"That's… huh, I don't think I have ever seen you drink. That's weird, for some reason." Aiden shrugged. "Cleon? Lord Nuada?"

'Elgar'nan himself couldn't make me drink that,' Cleon signed quickly, expression completely unamused. He was actually sitting a bit apart from us, sitting against the base of the bed. We were all on the floor, with the bottle in the 'middle'. 'No way.'

"Well, I guess…" Aiden began. He sighed and grabbed the bottle. "If I die, tell Zevran I'm sorry." Then he took a swig and coughed, choking a bit and eyes watering. "Oh, Maker…"

"Is it bad?" I asked, taking the bottle from him. I was now morbidly curious. "How bad?"

"Almost as bad…" He coughed again, voice thin and wheezing. "Almost as bad as Avernus's vial."

"Is that so?" I studied it for a moment, shrugged, and actually downed the rest. There was only a swallow or two left anyway. Almost immediately, I could feel the alcohol burn down my throat, and I half-swore it took off all the skin of my tongue, mouth, and throat. It might've even scraped off part of my stomach. "Maker, that's rough…" I set the bottle onto the floor, coughing as the burn continued. "Okay, that's almost as vile as dragon's blood…"

"Ugh… why did we do that?"

"I don't know."

"You did it because you are both idiots," Layla grumbled, glowering at me. She climbed into my lap, however, and rested her head briefly against my chest, listening to my heartbeat. I hugged her, knowing it was because I had reminded her of… well, when I almost died. "Well, are you two done being insane?"

'I think that isn't curable,' Cleon signed, giving us the most droll expression. He then snatched the bottle and tossed it to the side. 'But they did prove their leadership, I suppose.'

"I suppose. Oghren shall be quite pleased."

'Indeed.' Cleon shrugged and crawled over to join the… triangle, now. Layla shifted to continue sitting in my lap. 'Anyway, I was curious about Amaranthine's market. Do we have any good excuses to head that way?'

"Well, I probably need to check in on things there. I am their ruler." Layla hummed a bit, leaning back against me. I wrapped my arms around her, thinking of what Nathaniel had told me. "Is there anything else?"

"Well, Justice actually made a request earlier," Aiden murmured, frowning a bit. He twisted a bit in his seat to pop his back before continuing. "He had an… interesting encounter with someone. Namely Kristoff's wife. Widow, rather."

"Oh no!" Layla gasped, covering her mouth. Cleon and I both winced. That was… "Oh, we must talk to her! I… that…"

"My reaction exactly, Mistress Layla." Aiden smiled warmly. "She's apparently staying in Amaranthine, so we can take care of that. I should probably head there to talk to her personally." He glanced at Cleon. "I can see how the market is for you. I know we had bunches of merchant trouble."

'That would be appreciated,' Cleon signed, smiling softly. He winked at me before focusing on Aiden again. 'Focus on toys for children?'

"Of course," Aiden replied, laughing. It sounded tired, so I wondered how well he'd been sleeping. "I probably need to look for gifts for my own family. Might be good just to see how it's doing anyway."

'Yes, that sounds good. Is there anything else?'

"Nathaniel has reason to head to Amaranthine as well, actually," I explained. Layla signed for me so that I didn't have to let go of her. "His sister is apparently there, married."

"Wait, really?!" Layla gasped, twisting to look at me. She smiled brightly and giggled. "Ah, so that is what had him in such a good mood! I wonder why he waited to tell, though."

"He wanted to tell me personally. I do know Delilah, though we didn't always get along." I was glad to hear she was alive and well. "So, there's another reason right there."

"Hopefully it is a much happier one as well."

"So, Mistress Layla can head to Amaranthine to check on things, and I can talk to Aura. Justice and Nathaniel can come with us…" Aiden murmured, frowning a bit as he thought. Cleon nodded, agreeing to that. "Anyone else?"

"Anders can come as well, and he and I can do a medical check on everything again," Layla replied, giggling. The happy news for Nathaniel certainly cheered her up. "We can leave in the morning."

"And, meanwhile, Lord Nuada and Cleon can keep things running here for us." Aiden grinned at us, and Cleon and I nodded. We also needed to check the scouting reports. The lack of information and activity was troubling. However, the repairs to the Keep were actually completed now, so that was a good sign. "In that case, though, I imagine I'm going to go to bed. I am exhausted."

"Have you been sleeping well?"

"I've just been overworking, I think." Aiden smiled sheepishly and Cleon mimed hitting him in the head. "I know; I know. I lose track of time. I'm going straight to bed."

'I think I will do the same,' Cleon signed, standing. He pulled Aiden up as well, and smiled at Layla and me when we hopped up too. 'Pleasant dreams, everyone. May the Dread Wolf not prank us tonight.'

"Good night," I replied, seeing them out. I shut the door behind them and sighed, rolling my shoulders. "Well then…" I turned and smiled at Layla. "We should get some sleep ourselves."

"Must we?" she asked, sounding perfectly innocent. She skipped over to me, smiled shyly, and linked her hands behind my neck. She had to get on her tiptoes to do so, so I rested my hands on her sides to support her. "I will not see you for a few days, you know. I need a surplus to make it through."

"You…" I laughed softly and kissed her fiercely. "I love you."

"I love you as well." She smiled against my lips, giggling. "Is that not a wonderful coincidence?"

"I agree." If there was one thing I'd thank the Maker for, it would be that. "It very much is."

Chapter Text

Interlude - Anders

Back on the road again. He's used to it, of course, but he just finds it so amusing. It used to be that people did their best to shove him into a cage. Now, he is barely able to stay in the same place for more than two days before being out on the open road. He guesses Wardens like to travel a lot or something. Always a place to check or a person to save. Huzzah to the great heroes! Or, at least, to this group of weirdos.

Normally, he'd be teasing one of the group, but he had decided to hang back a bit, to have some quiet. Quiet is hard to come by nowadays, and he's surprised by how much he misses it. But he supposes that it's not necessarily a bad thing to miss, though the quiet does leave him in his own thoughts. Thoughts that he…

He glances over at Justice, who is talking to Aiden about something. The spirit bound to a corpse… he feels sorry for Justice, truly. After all, Justice is trapped in a body that would literally rot out underneath him. And, sure, that is technically true for all of them, but still. The thought is uncomfortable. Almost as uncomfortable as their last couple of conversations.

Justice's admonishments echo through his skull. 'A duty to help the oppressed'. It's nonsense, really. What can he do? And, you know, dying sounds bad. Besides, the world isn't fair, and what's he supposed to do to make 'the oppressors' stop? Blow them up? Right, like one can sneak an explosive into a Chantry.

But still, the words gnaw on him, and he thinks of everything he's witnessed over the years. The beatings, the rapes, the deaths, the fear. He thinks of hidden trysts carefully kept quiet because you couldn't give the Templars one more thing to use against you. He thinks of the babies ripped away from their mothers. He thinks of couples separated without cause and without thought. He thinks… he thinks…

Laughter makes him look up, and he sees Layla laughing at something Nathaniel had said. She had always been bright, the sunshine in the Tower, but now she practically blazes. Power wraps around her like a cloak, and when she speaks, you know she expects to be listened to. A mage in power, a mage others swore fealty to, an example of the good mages could do.

He feels lost in the shadows, though. He left briefly, escaped briefly, and so much had changed. He feels lost and flailing about, and he thinks he understands, finally, why Jowan had been so desperate. But he knows that blood magic isn't the way to go. He knows…

But still, looking at her just makes him wonder… how many more lights could mages be, if given the opportunity? How brightly would they shine if they are not muffled and muted by the chains of the Circle? He's not sure, and he honestly might need a drink or ten. But the thought doesn't leave him alone, no more than Justice's words.

And they would probably bother him for a very, very long while.

Chapter Text

Chapter 20) Break

Cleon POV

She likes the nights here in Kirkwall. At night, she's relatively certain she's somewhat safer. She's indoors, and everyone is asleep, save when Gamlen sometimes sneaks into her room to look for spare change. That means there's no people to watch, no people to be afraid of. Because she's always afraid, afraid someone might sense how abnormal she was. Sense the magic in her blood. Sense it and then drag her away from the Circle she always ran from and, worse, bring the templars' wrath on her family. After so many years of her family sacrificing so much to keep her safe. Oh, if only she could somehow pull the magic from her veins, and be normal. ...Well, relatively normal. 'Normal' might require a different family, and she doesn't want that. She loves her family. That's why she hates her magic so much. If she had to have it, could it at least have been some sort of story, where she knows it'll all end up happy, with her whisked away with a prince or something? Not here in Kirkwall, where...

"What are you doing hiding under the covers, Bethany?" All at once, her blankets are ripped off and there's bright and shining Vesta grinning at her. Literally bright and shining, as her sister has conjured up three light-globes to help her see as she walks. Because Vesta has never been afraid of her magic, never wished it away. It was something she reveled in, just as she reveled in life itself. "Reading a story, little princess?" Vesta asks with a grin sparkling and vivacious. She envies how easily Vesta takes to magic. She envies her confidence. "Well, perhaps not. You would be dancing about with the book if you were."

"That was one time!" she laughingly protests, sitting up. Already, she feels better. That's just how things always were. Nothing bad ever happened when Vesta was near. "Maker, you'll never let it go! You're like Orion with a bone!"

"What? It's adorable!" Vesta laughs and she feels the world brighten once more. Yes, she likes the nights. The nights let her sister shine even brighter and that's when she's safest. "Here, we'll read together. Scooch over."

Before Layla left, she asked me for a very specific favor: try to keep Nuada from overworking. This was harder than it sounded for many reasons. One, Nuada was a masochistic idiot who somehow genuinely forgot things like sleep and food were things when he was busy and, thus, required multiple reminders he needed both to survive. Two, despite staying up to the most unholy of hours every day to work without rest or food until forced otherwise, it felt like the piles of papers on the desk in his work-room did not grow smaller. At all. Even when I sacrificed sunlight and fresh breeze to help. For two days. Mythal, what sort of protection did you give him to not die yet? All logic says he should've suffocated from being buried in papers or died from thousands of papercuts. Or boredom. Death by boredom was definitely a worry.

'Why are we getting so many damn letters?' I signed at some point, staring at the paper in my hand. It defied comprehension. What even was a mortgage? The writer wrote as if it was something important, but I couldn't for the life of me think of why. 'Just why?'

'Many wish to brag about exchanging letters with heroes,' Nuada answered, signing with one hand while writing something down with the other. And reading a third thing. All while looked poised and even comfortable in these damn chairs that were definitely not made for hours of sitting. Yet here we both were. 'It makes them feel important.' Then he held his hand out in an unspoken request to hand my letter to him. Reluctantly, I did so. Without knowing what it was talking about, I couldn't decide if it was junk or not. It took him all of a second to skim through. 'Some, however, simply want our money.' He balled it up and threw it over his shoulder to join the rest of the junk. There were quite a few scattered across the floor; one of us would properly clean them up later. 'A mortgage is a type of loan, Cleon.'

'So, it's a weird shemlen word for a favor?'

'No, well…' He got a thoughtful look on his face. 'I suppose so. In this case, though, it involves money.'

'Ah, that's what you meant.' Money would always remain strange to me. I just knew it. 'Why would they ask us for this loan then?'

'You have the wrong order. Reverse the asker and loaner.' ...They wanted us to ask for a loan? Why? 'Keeps do require upkeep.'

'I know little of shemlen money still, but don't we have far too much?'

'I wouldn't say 'far' too much, but we aren't hurting for it either, thanks to the money from Weisshaupt.' Something about compensation for those lost and rewards for the Blight. Think the First Warden also just wanted us to succeed for their own agenda, but I had no proof of that. Just my gut feeling. 'That is why I threw it. It can be kindling later.'

'Right.' I looked about the room, studying it for the umpteenth time. Nuada had commandeered an empty study not far from his own rooms for his work-room, and it was fairly spacious. Simple with the barest of decorations, unless one counted the balls of paper rolling on the ground. It was lit with various candles and a roaring fire in the fireplace, and one window angled to catch as much sunlight as possible, with a beautiful view of the lands beyond the Keep's walls. The waving trees just within sight taunted me. I wanted to be outside, not here. Preferably with Nuada so he might actually rest. But Nuada claimed he needed to get through these papers, and I wanted to help, so I reluctantly turned away to go through the small pile in front of me. And nearly elbowed one of the paper towers off the desk, but Nuada caught it without looking. Somehow.

Shaking my head, I snatched the first letter I could reach and glanced through. Addressed to the 'Wardens', and the signature at the bottom... was a name I knew, actually, if not necessarily with that title. But it made sense. After all, Faladhin had been his Clan's Second and with Keeper Ilshae dead and Velanna with us... he of course would be the one to be Keeper. A title he truthfully never expected to have, but the Creators spun our paths where they wished. But since I did know him, I settled in my chair, ignoring the pain in my ass and back from sitting so long, and read it fully. It wasn't much, more of an official acknowledgement of Velanna's exile than anything. Only the last lines felt personal, speaking of how he was not surprised by her choices and how he hoped her shattered heart might heal among us Wardens. And how he hoped, one day, she would feel comfortable enough to visit the Clan in the Settlement. Knowing Velanna, though... it no doubt would be a very long while. And, also knowing her, showing her any bit of this would launch quite the tirade. So, once I finished, I set it to the side, to store in a safe place later. Then I picked up the next letter to read... and sighed when I glanced through. The words were well enough, and not confusing, but...

'What is it?' Nuada, of course, caught it immediately. He held out his hand when he finished signing, but I shook my head. I didn't need something deciphered. 'What is it?' he instead repeated, shifting his focus completely to me. 'Is it bad news?'

'No,' I replied, reading over again. Then I found spare paper to write: 'Who is Mother Giselle?'

'She is a revered mother in...' He reached across the desk to scribble out a name on my paper: Jader. Then he was back to signing and reading. And writing. What sort of madness did he have to keep track of it all? 'It is currently dealing with a large influx of refugees.'

'Why is that?'

'It's the nearest major Orlesian city to Fereldan.' Ah, that answered the next question of why. Most had fled the Blight. Would any return? Would any have a home to return to? Impossible to say. I prayed Mythal guided and protected them as they tried to piece things together. 'Why ask?'

'She wrote us a letter.' I looked through it again, feeling... both bitter and amused. 'She writes how we are doing the Maker's work.'

Nuada's reply was instant. 'Maybe one day, the Maker will do his own damn work.' He then paused, and looked up from his paper with a quirked brow and a sardonic smile. 'Then again, maybe he shouldn't. He's so bad at it that he has to depend on one who worships a completely different set of deities to get anything done.'

'You signed it, not me.' But my own bitter amusement spiked. 'I wonder how long it'll take the shemlen to conveniently forget that.'

'I personally am surprised it hasn't happened already.' He took the letter from me and skimmed it. 'Still, I think she meant it in good faith.' Oh, I had no doubt. Just with how little I thought of the Shemlen's Maker... 'I think I will wait to reply, though, until I am feeling a little more charitable.' He set it to the side and went back to work. 'There's no sense in alienating a potential ally so quickly, and allies in the Chantry will only be a boon for us in the future.'

'If only to keep them from attacking us.' I went back to my pile, and... 'Oh, this is for you.' It had his name and everything, written in a steady hand. 'Here.'

'Thanks.' He took it with a curious frown, flipping it open with practiced ease. Sadly, whatever it was wasn't good. His frown deepened too much. 'Well, no one can say Greagoir isn't prompt on replies.'

'The Knight-Commander?' Why would he be writing?

'Yes, I asked him about Cullen.'

'Cullen…?' I knew that name from somewhere. I knew I did. It still took me a while to piece it together, yet what little I remembered was… 'From the tower?'

'Yes.' Nuada looked at me curiously, noticing how slow I was signing, and I tried to figure out my thoughts. I saw him from a distance, once, during the Siege of Denerim. Never interacted personally. I did know, though, he had been Layla's first love. 'You have the most interesting expressions right now.'

'Why are you looking for him?' Better to just move things along. If this was anyone else, I'd say it was a jealousy thing. Or some other form of insecurity. But if Nuada was the type to feel such, I highly doubted he'd ever act on it. So, this was for something else. I was sure of it.

'I want to finish our chess game.' He grinned, like a cat snatching a bird from the skies. I immediately debated whether or not I wanted to hit him. Decided against it. For now. 'We met in the Tower, and had a mental chess game as a means of trying to reassure him. I think it worked, until Layla, Leliana, and Wynne joined us.'

'So, you are tracking him down to finish it?'

'Well, we couldn't when we met during the Siege.' He shrugged, grin fading. 'Layla's also been worried. She may no longer love him as she did, but she's still fond of him.' He paused then before suddenly becoming terribly sheepish. He wouldn't even look me in the eye. 'It just occurred to me how it looks for me to be hunting for my love's former crush.'

'Wasn't going to say anything.' But I would grin now. He could only roll his eyes. 'So secure in your place! Though, given how you made Layla jealous during the Landsmeet...'

'We had a talk about it!' Nuada flushed, and I remembered how they had been occupied for quite a few hours afterwards. So, my grin only widened and his flush darkened. 'You are a terrible person.'

'I have to tease at least a little.' I nodded to the letter sitting in front of him, switching back to the original topic and giving him time to recover. 'So, you were looking for him both for your chess game and to placate Layla's worries?' More the latter than the former, knowing him. In fact, the former was likely just a mask.

'Yes.' His flush slowly cooled and he picked up the letter again, using his free hand to sign. 'He was transferred out of Kinloch Hold, as you can imagine.'

'What was the official survival rate again?'

'I think it's around ten percent.' Nuada flinched at the memory, and I could only smile sympathetically. From what I understood, there were still areas blocked off due to damages, corpses, and blood. 'He became rather... zealous afterwards.'

'Hard to blame him, given what he suffered.' I might not like it personally, but I knew well the generalization that came from repeated tragedy. How many times had shemlen attacked my people, set the woods aflame to chase us out? I still thought most were idiots at best. It was safer. 'I thought the Chantry liked that sort of them in their Templars.'

'The Chantry might, but Greagoir is apparently well known for his relative laxness.' He paused, no doubt biting back his next few words. I knew I had to physically stop myself from signing; Layla's past did not imply 'laxness' to me. 'Between that and wanting to get him away from trauma, Cullen was transferred. At first, it was to a chantry in...' He found another spare piece of paper to write out the name: 'Greenfell'. 'It's a small village in the northeast.'

'Sounds perfect for healing.' But if that was all this was, Nuada wouldn't be frowning. 'You said 'at first'.'

'Yeah, that's what the letter is about.' It was telling he balled said letter up and tossed it straight into the fire instead of on the floor with the others. 'He's in Kirkwall now.'

'Isn't that where Layla is from?' It was also near Sundermount where my Clan was. Weird coincidence, that.

'It is, and it is also home to a Circle so terrible Layla's family bribed the Chantry to get her sent far away from it.' Nuada glowered at the ashes. 'She says it has always had trouble with blood mages and demons, and is infamous in the Circles as the most restrictive.'

'...' I tried and failed three times before finally figuring out how to sign out my reply. 'So, they sent the one broken by demons and blood mages to a place bursting with demons and blood mages?' Nuada's curt nod was the only response. 'The Chantry is filled with idiots.'

'Oh, no, they aren't idiots. What better place to put someone who can no longer think of mages as people?' His sharp signs only underlined how furious he was, even if the glare was the only expression on his face. 'He won't question their orders. Why would he? He knows the danger better than most.'

'...' This time, it took me five times. My anger made it hard to think. Oh, it was all too easy to see now. They put him where he'd best serve as their weapon, instead of where he might actually heal. 'I hate your Chantry.'

'I do too, and I am not looking forward to telling Layla this.' She'd no doubt piece it together just as quickly, if not quicker. 'Oh, this reminds me.'

'With that as your leads in?' Deciding to try and move forward, if only because I had no one to stab, I picked up the next paper on my pile and glanced over. A Barris family, some sort of nobility, wanted to negotiate some trade deals. I set it aside for Layla when she returned. 'Dare I ask?'

'Well, I have a question.'

'And I take it this is something you aren't wanting to ask.' Only connection I could think of. 'Whatever. What is it?'

'It relates to Ostagar.' And everything froze.

Ostagar. Ostagar. I couldn't think of the name without nausea building, even now. Still haunted my nightmares. Still... everything. Everything. It was everything. That one word always broke the dam of memories, bubbling unbidden to the forefront of my mind and I had to choke back bile. I didn't want to remember. I didn't. Yet I knew... I knew Nuada knew this. I knew he'd know my reaction. I knew he would never bring it up unless it was important.

And he waited. He waited for me, giving me all the time I needed. Waited until I could finally, finally sign, 'What scheme did Fen'harel whisper in your ear for you to bring that up?'

'And here I had thought I would see some curses,' he signed back immediately. Light signs, conveying a lightness he hoped would ease the sick feeling in my heart. 'Alack, alay! How ever will I survive the disappointment?' He grinned and I rolled my eyes. No matter how much time passed, he remained infuriating. Fun, and a damn good friend, but infuriating. 'Though, I don't think Eamon has anything to do with Fen'harel.'

'Isn't he in the castle or something?' Stayed there instead of Redcliffe for some reason. Didn't know. At the moment, I couldn't care less.

'He is, handling administration while Alistair and Elspeth are away, but he wanted to warn us of some...' His signs slowed, not sure of what words he wanted. 'Interesting rumors.'

'...Interesting?' I made my own signs sharp, doing my best to be as stoic as Zaphikel to highlight just how little I liked the word. I knew I scowled too much to fully emulate him, but I hoped the effect was still there.

'Let me ask my question and then I shall explain.' There better be an actual explanation. 'When and why did you and Aiden retreat that day?' ...Of all the things he asked, it was this? He knew already. I knew he did. 'If you can remember, I'd like specifics.' But his gaze was clear, and his signs sure. He did not ask this lightly. I already knew that.

It still took me a very long time to make the signs I wanted. 'Duncan ordered us.' The memories raced through my skull, each worse than the last. The rain, the blood, the smells, the screams... Creators, the screams haunted me the most. They were so loud in my memory, too loud. Maybe because they were some of the last sounds I ever heard. It was only weeks later, if that, when I lost my hearing. After all, the Blight had only been a little over a hundred days. 'Though, truthfully, your...' Did we have a sign for Shem-King Cailan? That kind fool of a man? I couldn't remember, and I did not want to stop to find a pen to write his name. So, instead, I used the signs for 'Alistair' and 'Brother'. He nodded to show he got my meaning. 'He had asked Aiden to escort Elspeth off the field.' They had told me that later. I'd been ambushed by that far too strong darkspawn, and only met them again after Shem-King Cailan had died. 'But Duncan gave us the same orders. Run, and take Elspeth with us since she knew where the treaties were. This was, of course, after the official retreat was called, thanks to her playing messenger.' So we ran. We ran and ran, slipped and fell in mud and argued as everyone died behind us. As Duncan died behind us. Well, Elspeth and I had argued. Aiden had to deal with us fools.

'I thought that was what Elspeth told me, but couldn't remember.' Nuada's signs were slow again, but this time, it was to give me time to recover. 'As for why I asked, there are rumors circulating on how convenient your survival was.' Then again, perhaps it was because he knew how fast rage would spike through my heart at the explanation. I leapt to my feet without a thought, scattering papers everywhere, but froze as I tried to think of anything, anything at all, that would properly express how furious I was. If I could call Elgar'nan himself to scorch the earth, I would've done so. But I couldn't. 'Do you want to scream?' It was tempting. I certainly felt that familiar pressure in my throat, almost begging to be torn free.

But... 'No.' But I swallowed it down, as I usually did whenever those urges to actually voice something came up. They were few, and getting fewer, but... 'It won't do anything but hurt my throat. I won't get any satisfaction from it.' I couldn't even hear it anymore.

'We can spar later. I'm sure you'd love the excuse to punch me a few times.' Couldn't deny that one. 'I am certain the rumors are simply from those who dislike how much power we're amassing. Perhaps they are even from some of Loghain's old supporters, given how it mimics Teagan's accusation after Ostagar's fall.'

'Next time, we're leaving them to their own damned devices instead of saving them.' Sighing, more to release the remnants of that scream than anything, I sat back down hard, and looked guiltily at the papers I'd sent flying. 'Ir abelas. I-'

'Is it not wonderful the piles have suddenly gotten smaller?' Nuada was quick to interrupt me, his hands dancing with the signs to highlight the mischief in his eyes and grin. I wished it made me feel better, but it didn't. No matter how angry I was, I didn't want to give him more work. 'Now, now it's... come in?' He twisted to the door and I looked up just as Anora poked her head in. 'Oh, Anora? What is it?'

'I am sorry to bother...' she began slowly, taking a step inside. She took a careful look at the scene she walked in on, from my palpable guilt to the papers scattered to Nuada's continued grin. Took her all of a second to thread it all together. 'Perhaps I should say 'hello, I am the convenient distraction'?' She glanced at Nuada with a slight, knowing smile, and Nuada laughed, lingering tension in his shoulders relaxing. Some old joke? 'Though, truly, I do not understand why you don't have Varel sort through these letters for you.' He could do that? That might take out-

'This is after he's sorted through them,' Nuada answered easily. He signed 'is' twice for emphasis and I could only eye the papers dubiously. This was sorted? Really? 'Well, it usually is. Given the letter Cleon found earlier, I'd guess he was too busy to do so today.'

'There seems to be more paperwork than I remember Father dealing with.'

'Only about a third is for Gwaren, Anora. The rest is for the Warden-Constable and King's Champion.'

'Oh, if that's the case, this amount does make sense.' She looked so completely nonchalant about it that I could only gape. I would never understand shemlen. Never. 'Regardless, might you come with me? There's something in the gardens I think you should see.'

'We should at least pick up the papers first.' Nuada made to stand, but I was on my feet and gathering them before he could, even as I wondered what happened. Did Velanna's plants eat something they shouldn't? 'What's going on?'

'Just come see.' Oh, Fen'harel's teeth, they definitely ate something they shouldn't have.

Creators, please at least be something easily fixed or paid for. Please.

...Well, the good news was Velanna's plants hadn't actually eaten something they shouldn't. The bad news was I wasn't sure I wanted to know just how Oghren ended up dangling upside down from a branch way over our heads. Particularly since it involved an irate Velanna and a Sigrun who was laughing so hard she was a trembling ball curled up on the ground. Though Creators, he was up high. I think even Sten would've had to jump to try and reach his fingertips.

'This just happened,' Anora explained, as the three of us clustered a short distance away. Just far enough from the chaotic scene so no one thought we were involved. 'I thought it better to simply grab you two before trying to figure anything out.' Yeah, probably a good idea, except both of us were just as flabbergasted. Fen'harel's teeth, Nuada could barely stop staring long enough to sign her words for me. 'His scream was enough to scare the servants in the kitchens.' I honestly couldn't blame him. Ignoring how most would be startled by such a thing, I remembered how when he first came to the surface, he'd been afraid of floating up into the sky. 'Ah, Velanna is saying something.'

She was and, even more surprising, she was signing. 'I am impressed his breath doesn't hurt my poor plants,' she muttered, scowl dark and signs fast. Nearly too fast for me to read, but, again, I was surprised she was signing at all. I was fairly certain she had no idea about us three joining the audience for her show. 'Worried it might. Sigrun's right; you could light it on fire sometimes.' She paused, perfect stillness for a blink, before she focused on the still laughing Sigrun curled up at her feet. I assumed she was still laughing. Could just be shaking from a lack of air. What bits of her face I could see were redder than apples. 'I do hope you aren't stuffing your nose in the dirt again, Sigrun.' Again? 'I don't care if it smells like fallen leaves and sunlight, like you said last time!' I wasn't even going to begin asking.

Somewhere above our heads, Oghren screamed again. Or so I guessed by everyone's focus going to him once more. I, of course, didn't know what he said, much less if it had been coherent. Nuada tried to sign the words, but he was a little too dumbfounded and 'what is with our lives?' to properly sign anything. So, instead, I took note of what bits of expression I could. His face was red, likely from being upside down, and his eyes were wide, probably from terror. There was a bit of anger as well, but who wouldn't be angry about the situation? I imagined, therefore, that his words reflected such and worried.

'Serves you right!' Velanna, however, was appeared far too pleased with herself, hard as it was to see through all the grumpy scowling. 'This will teach you to tell me lies about baby rocks!' ...Morbid curiosity steadily growing.

'All right, I just have to ask now,' Nuada finally signed, finally losing the battle against his laughter. It was a good laugh, one that I was certain was as bright as his smile, with shaking shoulders and hands. 'What happened? This question is both for the plant moving like a mabari with a toy, and Oghren being said toy.'

'Well, I can at least answer the first part,' I replied, my own signs shaking as amusement finally crept through the shock. This was ridiculous. This was beyond ridiculous. 'It's not uncommon for Keepers, or their Firsts, to enchant plants to serve as... not quite guards, but close.'

'Traps?'

'Probably a better word, given the lack of sentience. It's usually to help the sentries, though some Keepers have used it for intimidation purposes.' I remembered Zathrian had done so once, when I was a child, on some shemlen accidentally crept too close during an Arlathvhen.

'I think there's a story about Flemeth doing something similar?'

'Hers usually involve little pieces strewn in the trees, but otherwise, yes.' I studied everything once more, and noticed Sigrun finally uncurling. Slowly. 'Back on track, Keepers and Firsts have been known to do such and, of course, some have accidentally gotten caught.'

'I hear a 'however' coming.'

'Given how gleeful Velanna is, I would say Oghren did not accidentally do anything. Velanna ordered the tree to snatch him up, and probably used her magic to give it a little extra strength.' And height. There were no trees this large in the gardens this morning. 'Which I suppose answers why Oghren is the toy, actually, except I don't know why she's targeting him.'

'I suppose the reason involves why Sigrun is trying to become the first of the Legion to die of laughter.' Nuada stepped forward and helped Sigrun up at last, fanning her still far too red face as she struggled still with snickers. Anora, for some reason, headed back inside. Maybe to escape the craziness like a smart person. 'So?' While he fanned, he used his free hand to sign. 'Why is Oghren the one above our heads?'

'That...' Sigrun began, or tried to. She immediately dissolved into more snickers. Then she tried to sign for herself and only giggled further. Seriously, how did she have the breath for it still? 'Ancestors, this is the best day ever.'

'I am so glad you think so,' Nuada signed, droll look making the sarcasm apparent to my eyes. I had to bite back a smile. 'Perhaps you can share the joke?'

'Weeeeellll...' Sigrun swayed a little, either playfulness or dizziness from lack of air. Either way, Nuada signed the word slowly to convey the tone as best he could. She didn't sign herself; she still shook a little too much. 'The spark was Oghren tricking Velanna into thinking dwarves hatch out of stones like your chickens do from eggs.' He... he did what now? 'Something about pink-streaked ones being girls and gray ones being boys. I don't know. I can't tell you what's funnier: the joke or that she believed him enough to ask me about it!' I... I might ask Layla to get everyone's heads checked when she returned. 'But she'd been mad at him already for other things.'

'I see.' Nuada glanced at me, somewhere between amused and exasperated. I leaned more towards amused, but I was a little more used to these things than him. 'So, did she desire an audience and that's why you're here?'

'Oh, no, she asked if I wanted to see Oghren scream after all the borderline harassment he's been giving me.' The what now? 'I haven't brought it up or anything, it's just annoying, but how could I resist this?' We might need to have a conversation with Oghren about that. ...And to Velanna about using magic as retaliation. 'It's everything I could've hoped for and more!' I... suppose I couldn't fully blame her, but we did have other problems... namely...

'Here you are, Sigrun.' It took a long second to realize the words were Anora's and, even then, it was really only once she passed me and handed Sigrun a fan and a glass of water that I pieced it together. Nuada's attention had gone back to Oghren, even as he automatically continued signing for me. 'I thought you might need it,' she explained, crouching down to help Sigrun unfurl the fan. There was something almost comical about it, probably because it was a very fancy lace fan. Might have even been her own. 'So, what is the plan for rescuing Oghren?'

'That is the question and, sadly, I can think of only one way,' Nuada replied, sighing heavily. His shoulders moved with the motions, and he shook his head. 'Velanna, let him down before he dies, will you? I'm not explaining to Aiden why I let one of our Wardens die so ingloriously.'

'Huh? Oh, when did you arrive?' Velanna asked, whirling to face us. She blinked a few times, processing our appearance, before sulking. 'Drat. I was going to let him down before you found out.'

'Oghren's scream was apparently quite loud.'

'Well, I have to concede that. I didn't expect it to be so high. Think the dogs protested.'

It still took some persuading for Velanna to let Oghren go, and then it took longer to persuade the damn tree to relinquish its 'toy'. But, eventually, Oghren was on the ground, swaying on his own two feet while he tried to recover from being upside down for so long. Anora had to switch to fanning him while Sigrun sipped the water she had. And Nuada handled scolding Velanna, encouraging her to talk to them first before doing things like this to allies, and promptly got himself sidetracked by the potential defensive applications of her plants, so it was one of the worst scoldings ever. I watched them all with a smile on my face, basking in the sheer ridiculousness of it all.

Sadly, it didn't last. Oghren had just recovered when all of them stilled at something. Perfectly frozen, with wide eyes. I tilted my head curiously, soon realizing they were reacting to some sort of sound, but I had to wait until one of them told me. Whatever it was... it had to be bad. I'd never known any of them to be still for so long, and when I glanced up at the ramparts, I saw people in gleaming, silver armor running as if their lives depended on it. None of them ever ran.

A bit of movement brought my attention back down, and I saw it was Nuada. He didn't look at me. He honestly didn't look at anything. That look on his face told me he was already thinking a thousand different things at once, even as he calmly and surely signed to me, 'the Alarm Bells are ringing. We're under attack.'

...Fen'harel, can you please stop with your damned tricks? They're getting old.

Vigil's Keep was tightly contained chaos. People were running everywhere, carrying this and that. Messengers flitted about this way and that to deliver orders. Patrols were stepped up, bringing report after report after report. The courtyard was a writhing mess of activity, as I observed from my perch by the window. After all, I wasn't in the middle of the chaos. I was in the sole place of order, the center point all the strings of chaos spun from: the study somewhere in the center of the Keep where Nuada gathered every shred of information he could as he looked over multiple maps spread across a table. I only recognized two: one of Vigil's Keep and one of the arling itself.

'Tell Anora to move the civilians further in,' he ordered Varel. Not sure how Varel ended up as a messenger, but perhaps the rest were busy. At this point, it was only us three in the room. The rest had rushed off with their own orders. 'Specifically, I want them here.' He scribbled something on the map of Vigil's Keep, one of many. I was too far to read them. 'We can close off the hall and provide four layers of protection. Portion off our supplies for just their use.' Varel, stone-faced, bowed to acknowledge the order and strode out. When the door to the study thudded shut, Nuada let himself slump at last. That alone told me everything.

Still, I wanted it confirmed, so I walked over and tapped the table to catch his attention. 'How bad?' I signed, looking over the maps. Scribbles every which way... last time I'd seen this, we were preparing to fight the last battles of the Blight.

'Bad.' Nuada straightened his posture once more as he signed. 'Based on the scouts, the initial squads will be here within the next few hours, if not sooner, intent on testing our defenses. The full force will be here in two or three days. It's nowhere near long enough to evacuate.' Certainly not everyone, at least. Maybe a few could slip past, but…

'How far away is Amaranthine again?'

'At forced march, I'd say it's three days.' Nuada, however, draw a large curve around Vigil's Keep on the map of the Arling. Notably, it crossed right over the road to Amaranthine. 'That more or less encompasses the area all darkspawn have been spotted. Our scouts are certain of it.'

'Mythal, protect us...' No way to get a message out to Layla and Aiden then. Not before everything. And the curve also blocked off the road to Denerim, so there was no getting help there. 'How many?'

'Providing our scouts aren't undercounting due to all darkspawn looking the same to them, it's not quite as bad as the Siege of Denerim. It's more than what hit Redcliffe, though.' Nuada glanced at me, expression impassive. 'You can sense them though, can't you? I can.'

'Yes.' It was just the barest of whispers on the very edge of my mind. I might have ignored it, if not for the current situation. But those whispers were enough to also confirm what Nuada said. There were a lot coming. 'So, how are we preparing?' Surprisingly, Nuada didn't answer immediately. Instead, he continued looking at me with that terribly impassive face. 'Nuada?'

'You're going to hate me for this.' His signs were certain and he looked me right in the eye. My stomach dropped, already knowing what his next words would be. 'But you aren't staying.' He caught my hands in his when I brought them up to protest. I tried to jerk them out, but he held them firm. I shook my head violently and tried again, failed again. I couldn't leave them. I wouldn't! And if he would silence my hands then...!

"I will not run!" Then I would shout my protests instead, in that rusty, mushed voice of mine. At least, I assumed so. I couldn't actually hear it. I could just feel the air in my mouth, the burning-buzz in my throat. It hurt. It hurt a lot, and I didn't think it was just from shouting. "Nuada!" But he twisted his hands to hold both of mine in one hand and used his free one to cover my mouth. I settled then for glaring, but I... I bit back the rest. Logically, I knew he had his reasons for saying it. Because it was him and he never gave any orders he hadn't thought over ten thousand times.

'Armies don't rise up from the ground, not even darkspawn.' Sensing my cooperation, Nuada let go to sign to me. I still glared. 'Armies leave tracks.' And damn him, I could pick up the pieces from there. This wasn't just running. He wanted me... he needed me to...

'You want me to find them.' He needed me to track down whatever hole in the ground they crawled up from. Because all of this would just continue if we didn't. Because with this many darkspawn here, then their lair had to be relatively clear. Because we would never get a better chance. 'You want me to leave you here and find their lair.'

'Yes. Who better to track them than a Dalish?' Appealing to my pride of all things now? Nuada could be such a bastard sometimes. 'You know the passages out better than the rest of us anyway.' Thanks to the patrols, and hunts for assassins. 'I can't go. I need to stay and coordinate. Vigil's Keep is the headquarters of the Wardens right now, after all, and I am Warden-Constable.' A strained smile quirked onto his face, some attempt at jesting. 'Besides, as someone so recently mentioned, I may be Arl of Amaranthine someday. What sort of Arl would I be to abandon my people?'

'You are the absolute worst.' I continued glaring; he continued smiling. 'You two... are going to have the largest wedding we can think of.' Because I remembered that conversation too. It had only been a few days ago. 'As large as Elspeth and Alistair's. I mean it.'

'We can discuss things further when you return.' He looked out the window, but when I turned, I saw nothing unusual. Same as before. 'The bells rang again. First wave is on us.' Already? How was it so soon? Was it the tunnels below that let them slip so close so quickly?

It didn't matter. Not now. 'Then I need to leave.'

'You can't go alone, if they're already here. Too dangerous.' Nuada looked to his maps, already plotting something. 'Take-'

I gestured sharply to interrupt him. 'I'll take Velanna. She can help me with tracking, and with foraging.' I glared, daring him to protest. 'Oghren and Sigrun have the most experience fighting darkspawn. I will not take them from you. I will not take anyone else from you.' I dreaded taking even just her, even if I understood. 'Maybe she can just bury all the bastards.'

'That she could.' Nuada's smile... was near-perfect then. It was his fool's smile, the mask he wore to pretend everything was fine. I hated he wore it now; it only confirmed for me just how bad things were. 'Happy hunting, Cleon.'

'Stay alive.' And I bolted, pausing only just long enough to rip the door open. I had... I had to find Velanna.

Down the halls, pushing past people. Round the corners, jumping over supplies scattered haphazardly. I knew everything was loud. With this many people, with this much activity, there was no way it wasn't. Just like Ostagar had been... no, I wouldn't think of that. I couldn't. So, I kept on running, and no one stopped me. At least, I didn't think they did. Some may have shouted, but there was no way for me to know. So, instead, I headed for the places I thought Velanna might be. Took three tries. She'd been helping stock the infirmary, and I was all too aware our strongest healers were, at best, three days away. How many would...?

Shaking my head, and the thoughts out of said head, I waited for Velanna to finish what she was doing before snagging her arm and dragging her out. I knew she protested. I didn't care. I couldn't. I had to move, and that meant finding some spot of calm, tucked in an alcove down the hall, to convey our orders.

'What are you doing?!' That didn't stop Velanna from glaring and screaming. Her sharp signs conveyed her anger all too well. 'Just snatching me like I'm some bow?!' she snapped, eyes blazing in fury. But I saw the dread within, the worry. She, too, was aware of just how badly everything was spiraling. 'I need to-'

'We're leaving,' I signed, my own sharp. I had to make them as certain as possible. I couldn't falter. I couldn't shake. Even if that meant being rude and interrupting her. 'Now.'

'We're what?!' Well, that knocked the anger out of her, leaving only that terrified dread. 'Are you-?!'

'Tracking. We're tracking down their lair, and we have to do it now.' Damn all of this. 'Minimum of what you need, but no supplies. We'll forage on the way.'

'You're serious.' She stared at me for a long moment before nodding. Thank you, Creators, for small miracles. I did not have it in me to argue. 'Very well. Where should I meet you?'

'Gates.' Wait, no, that would be... 'No, meet me at Nuada's room.' I knew Nuada wouldn't be there, and our living quarters were enough out of the way that it should be relatively calmer. And, more importantly, there was... 'Path out near there.' Well, semi-near. It was more we'd have a clear path to it. Regardless, I knew it well by this point. 'We'll leave from there.'

'...I am not bringing medicines. Just warning you.'

'Good.' She had a basic heal spell and, in theory, we wouldn't do much fighting. Just tracking. Just hunting. I once did things like this daily. But that was before everything. Before the Blight. Before I had the weight of tens of hundreds of lives on my heart. 'As soon as you can.'

She nodded and ran, and I strode back down the hall, heading to my own rooms to gather the absolute essentials. I hid the more personal items, including Lyna's latest letter. I hadn't replied. I would when this was over. And it would be over soon. This... this was to make sure of that. So, I checked over my pack one last time and ran to Nuada's room. I beat Velanna there, and desperate to keep doing something instead of waiting, I ducked in to hide some of the more sentimental items there. Left a note for Nuada to let him know. It was pointless, but I had to keep moving. I had to...

Thankfully, Velanna joined me before I had to wait long enough for the dread to build. Without a word, we immediately headed for the secret passage leading out. No one stopped us; no one even thought to try. Once it was open, Velanna, bravely, headed down without hesitation. I didn't. I lingered in the doorway, and looked back. Looked at the people racing everywhere and nowhere, grimly determined and all too aware many would survive this crisis. They had to be. I knew I was.

Somewhere in the middle of the writhing mess of people, I saw Oghren. He looked like he was shouting orders, or maybe it was encouragement. Either way, he was helping direct things. At least, until he somehow sensed me looking, because he turned and locked eyes with me. Stared for a moment, studying. Piecing everything together in a blink. Then he smiled and waved me goodbye. And I hated that smile; it was the smile of someone who may or may not live to see the dawn and was fine with it. I wasn't. I'd known him too long for it to be fine.

But I had my duty, and he knew it. So I nodded a farewell and shut the door behind me. I wondered how loud it was. It had felt heavy enough to be loud. But maybe it wasn't. Maybe it was as quiet as a shadow and no one even noticed. That would be good. That was how it should be. But the thought made me all too aware of how I was leaving. I was leaving them to their fates. Just like Ostagar. Damn that Nuada had mentioned it. It made the similarities all the more apparent to my screaming heart. But even with the ghosts clinging and clawing, I had to move forward. I had to catch up to Velanna, and do the job Nuada entrusted to me. And I would. I would not fail.

But Elgar'nan, if you allowed that terrible day to repeat, I would find and kill you as soon as this was over. See if I didn't.

Chapter Text

Chapter 21) Everlasting

Layla POV

Kirkwall... is not a cheap place to live. Everything, even breathing, seems to cost coin and it took ages and leaning into her officer training to get a job in the Guard. Still took a few months after that to scrape and save enough to buy a small little house, barely two rooms, on the outskirts of Hightown. Honestly, even Gamlen's home was bigger, and cheaper, but with all of them crammed in there...

"I think that's the last of it?" Minerva's voice catches her ear, and she turns from the box she's unpacking to see Minerva carrying the very last box inside. She swore she shouldn't have this much. Did Leandra sneak some things in? "Where should it go, Aveline?" Minerva asks, hefting the box with ease. She's strong, like her brother and unlike her sisters. Almost as strong as she is kind, and patient. Being the eldest of the Hawke family clearly made her that way. "Aveline?"

"Just thinking," she replies, shaking her head. The offer is on the tip of her tongue, for the Hawkes to join her. But they both know in this too small home, barely big enough for a single person... they would suffocate each other. Now, if only some of the Hawkes stayed with her, one or two, it might work out, but she already knows what the answer will be. None of the Hawkes even considered the idea of separating, not even snappish Carver. They would fight the Maker Himself to stay together. So, she knows Minerva would refuse without a second's thought. Her family was her everything. "How about over there for now?"

"You got it."

Amaranthine was just as lovely and bustling as before. People laughed and gossiped in the streets. The guards patrolled with easy smiles. Merchants hawked their wares to each potential customer. Children raced to and fro, playing whatever games they wished. I had to smile at how lively it was, though I could not help but worry as well. With things so quiet with the darkspawn, I was certain that...

"A storm is brewing." Aiden's simply observation knocked me out of my thoughts and back to our present. Currently, he and I were accompanying a carefully cloaked and hooded Justice to the Chantry, to start our hunt for Aura. We guessed she might head there to pray for her husband. "Hope Nathaniel and Anders don't get caught in it," he continued softly, staring at the clouds gathering above us. It was a valid worry. After all, they were not with us. Nathaniel headed to the markets, following the rumors of his sister's whereabouts, and Anders decided to keep him company. "Of course, the storm now just makes me wonder if we'll fight here. Stupid thought, of course. It rains frequently. It's just..."

"It rained during Ostagar and battle with the Archdemon, did it not?" I murmured, despite already knowing the answer. I remembered the rain almost as much as the battles themselves, particularly Ostagar's. "It is hard to not associate rain with battles." Perhaps, one day, we might not. "Ah, Justice is going ahead." He had also almost lost his hood three times already. Caution and patience were not things Justice understood well, sadly.

"If someone screams at the corpse, you and I know nothing." Despite the words, he smiled ruefully. We both knew we would jump right into fixing things. It was just how we were. "Surprised he even knows where the Chantry is. Kristoff's memories, perhaps?"

"It could be." The thought made me a little uncomfortable, though. I knew well how... disconcerting it was to have another's memories in your head. I still had difficulties, even if they were lessened now. But how did a Spirit experience such things? Would they drive him mad? "Still, we are falling behind."

"Right, right. Catching up now."

We had to jog to catch up, as Justice moved quite fast for a corpse, and soon found ourselves in the Chantry itself. It was… thankfully empty, since Justice did not stop for anyone or anything. Aiden and I gave polite, and brief, greetings to those we passed, but otherwise, focused solely on keeping up with Justice as he hunted through every alcove and cubby hole in the Chantry for Aura. Eventually, though, we found her. She was in one of the many side rooms branching from the main, a place of quiet and tranquility. It was not uncommon for mourners to privately pray in such rooms, and the incense burning in front of her proved she was doing exactly that. This… meant we were interrupting her during a very personal moment, and this was going to be even more awkward than I feared. A glance to Aiden's grimacing face showed he thought the same.

Justice, of course, did not see it that way. No, in his view, an injustice had been done and he had to correct it. There was no compromise or waiting. It went against his nature. So, he just walked up to her without hesitation, and I prayed the poor woman would not scream. Ignoring the pain she had to be going through, explaining this to the Chantry sisters and templars would be very awkward.

"Aura, please, do not be alarmed." It was also made ten times more... something... by Justice using that as his greeting. "I do not wish to frighten you," he continued, as Aura turned to face him. "I am-"

"You. The... in my husband's body," Aura replied, calmly and cooly. I was almost impressed, but my fretting drowned it. "I am surprised you came to a Chantry."

"I am a Sp-" There was something very strange about reaching up to cover the mouth of a talking corpse, but that was exactly what both Aiden and I did to stop Justice from casually revealing he was a Spirit inside the Chantry.

"Let's not say anything which will draw attention, shall we?" Aiden suggested lightly, doing his best to not grimace. I could not blame him; he had reacted faster than me, so his hand was firmly on Justice's rotting flesh. Mine was simply on his. "It is complicated enough without adding in Chantry outrage."

"Oh, he has companions this time?" Aura asked, tilting her head curiously. I was more than a little certain Justice had 'companions' last time as well, but I would not mention it. She likely had not noticed, given the whole 'went to greet her husband and discovered he was dead in the worst way possible' situation. "You are?"

"Aiden Tabris, the Warden-Commander of Fereldan."

"Ah." Almost immediately, she bowed her head respectfully. "My apologies for my rudeness and disrespect, Warden-Commander."

"There is no need for apologies. Save for, perhaps, mine."

"Apologies? For...?" She actually seemed genuinely confused for a second before shaking her head. "Ah, if you mean for Kristoff, then don't. We always knew he would die in the line of duty, that every parting could be the last. His father had been a Warden too, you see. He knew more than most about them." He knew 'more than most' and still chose it? It was a shame he died; he and Nuada could have bonded over it. "It does not ease the pain, but that does not mean you must apologize, Warden-Commander. It simply means I loved a good man, and I miss him." Her attention fell on Justice once more, a frown on her face. "Unless it was your choice for this? If so then, yes, I do believe you owe me many apologies."

"There wasn't a lot of choice in any of it, Justice's least of all." Aiden smiled awkwardly. "It's… a long story, many of which make no sense even to those who went through it, but I can confirm that much, at least."

"Yes, I meant, and mean, no harm to your husband, dear lady," Justice added, sincerity echoing in the words. He tried to gesture, perhaps to add weight to them, but the movements came off as 'stilted'. I wondered why, since his other movements were smooth enough. Was it, perhaps, a memory from Kristoff? Did he act like this when feeling awkward, when trying to reassure someone? That was… not a happy thought. "I would ease your distress, if I had the power. So, is there something I can do? Tell me, please."

"Well…" Aura began, drawing out the word as she thought. It was plain, to me, she was weighing their words with care, and I marveled at how dignified she was through this. I was prone to tears when those I loved were simply hurt, and she was going through much worse. Maybe one day, I could be as calm? "I would simply ask for the body, but somehow, I feel like if it was so easy, you would have already done so. If not by your own morals, then at the orders of Warden-Commander Tabris." She sighed, her eyes closed briefly. When they opened, she looked right at Justice once more, gaze clear and unafraid. I definitely wished I could be so dignified. "I suppose we can revisit the discussion after the current crisis is resolved. I can wait for his ashes, if it means you will help them, as Kristoff wished."

"The darkspawn?" Justice seemed rather surprised, before nodding. "Yes, yes, I can do that…"

"Good. That will be how you repay the debt, then. Help them, and avenge him."

"Of course, you have my word."

Aiden glanced at me then, and subtly nodded to the door, a silent indication he and Justice would be fine from here. I hesitated in leaving, but truly, I was superfluous for the discussion, especially now, with the conversation clearly wrapping up. I knew it was better to find Nathaniel and Anders to ensure no trouble had found them. ...Again. Trouble certainly did find its way to us often. I doubted a templar would go after Anders right now, but it was better to be certain.

So, with a smile, I slipped out of the side room and left the Chantry entirely to meander my way through the streets to the market. Most ignored me as I passed. After all, I was simply another person to them. They would never expect someone like me, a hero and a noble, to simply walk among them, without announcing anything. At least, I assumed that was why most people's eyes just flicked right over me. I even recognized a few as those I had treated last time, but their faces showed no recognition.

We might be able to utilize that later, for information gathering. For now, I was simply grateful it meant I could hunt, and find, Nathaniel and Anders with relative ease. Even better, I saw Nathaniel chatting happily with a woman who resembled him just enough for me to guess she was his sister. I crept closer with a smile, glad to see such a reunion, until I got close enough to hear his sister (Delilah was her name, yes?) say, "Oh, Nathaniel, I'm happy with Albert! Certainly happier than I would've been with Nuada, the stuck-up idiot that he is, and that's what Father was trying to pull."

The words made me still, irritation roiling under my skin. I knew I should not. Nuada was infuriating even now, and he had purposely cultivated the mask of a fool and flirt to get people to underestimate and misunderstand him. It was not her fault she could not see through his masks. It was not her fault Nuada had not trusted her enough to take them off around her. And, truthfully, no one had to like us for our part in the Blight. I would hope for respect, but one was perfectly capable to think someone arrogant and a fool while still respecting them. Nothing about what she said was unreasonable. Nothing about what she said was her fault. It was a perfectly valid feeling. Yet no matter how much I reminded myself of this, I simply could not help being terribly, terribly irritated that she would insult him so. It was one thing for one of us to tease and be exasperated; it was another thing entirely for this... this stranger to do the same. And she was a stranger, no matter how much she might think otherwise. Nuada let very few people even try to understand him before he met us. So, I was irritated. I was beyond irritated, and it was in that mood I cut into the conversation with the absolute cheeriest greeting I could muster.

"Hello there!" I chirped with a smile, as bright as I could. The young woman blinked slowly, no doubt wondering who in the world I was. Meanwhile, Nathaniel facepalmed and Anders grinned in complete delight. Both of them knew exactly what I was doing. I could not decide if I was more amused or annoyed by how quickly they figured it out. "You must be Delilah, yes?"

"I... am?" Delilah replied, words spoken with care. She glanced at Nathaniel and Anders, questions in her eyes. "I fear you have the better of me, though. You are?"

"I am Layla Amell, Warden of Fereldan, Arlessa of Amaranthine, Archmage of the Circle, Hero of the Fifth Blight." I kept the smile as best as I could, even as I listed out my titles. I rarely, if ever, used them, but for right now, they suited my purpose. "Oh, and I am also Nuada's lover. I heard about you from him."

"...Ah." Well, now she looked awkward. Nathaniel brought up his other hand for a double-facepalm. Anders poorly bit back laughter.

"I am ever-so glad we found you! He was terribly worried, given everything." I did my best to beam at her, as if I was not purposely making this as awkward and uncomfortable as I could. To my terrible delight, she squirmed. I would have to write Leliana about this; I had a feeling she would find it particularly hilarious. "So..."

"I'm interrupting now," Nathaniel sighed, bringing his hands down at last. He gave me a distinctly sour look, and I tilted my head innocently. Anders gave up hiding his laughter. "I also completely lost the original topic, so let me switch to this. Can I meet your husband, Delilah? I know what you said, but a brother must ensure his sister's spouse is up to standards."

Delilah seized the convenient escape, and I waved them farewell with the smile still on my face. I only let it drop once they were out of sight to mutter, "I can only hope she does not see her husband as shallowly." Anders, the cad, laughed even harder, leaning against a nearby tree in a desperate effort to stay upright. "Yes, I know it was unkind and unbecoming. At the moment, I cannot say I care."

"It's so nice to see you grow into your claws," Anders managed, slowly calming into simply snickers. He remained very red in the face. "Weird, of course. But nice."

"You say this like I am a kitty-cat."

"You're adorable enough. Always have been." He grinned and I stuck my tongue out at him childishly. "I can't say it wasn't weird hearing the words myself, mind. 'Idiot' is not a word I associate with him."

"Oh, I do. He is a complete dolt when it comes to his own health, among many, many other things." But it was for us to tease, not strangers. At least, that was how I felt about it, and I was certain Aiden and Cleon would agree. ...Nuada himself likely would be terribly confused by the whole thing. He was, after all, far too used to this sort of thing. "Ah, I hope Nathaniel will forgive me. I did ruin his reunion." Though, I did have to admit some terribly petty part of me hoped he would judge Delilah's husband as she did Nuada, but I would never dare voice it. It would be much ruder and far more awkward than what Delilah did.

"I'm sure he'll forget all about it, save for maybe some funny teasing." He shrugged, leaning a little more against the tree. "But, well, we are in the market. Maybe a bribe?"

"Maybe?" The trouble was I had no idea what Nathaniel liked. "Though, while we are in the market, I should find gifts for everyone." I could even look for something for Sten! …Though, I could admit I would likely never see him again. I could still have it for him. "I shall start with Elspeth!" I still wore the bracelet she bought for me, after all. Maybe I could find something which matched?

"That's... the Queen of Fereldan, right? The statue-like lady at the gates with the King?" ...While I could not blame him for comparing Elspeth to stone, I certainly had when we first met, I also could not help but frown at his description. He caught my souring mood instantly. "Wait, wait, let me remove the foot from my mouth before you make things awkward for me." He immediately tried to back up and flail, like he did when Wynne became particularly annoyed with him, but failed due to the tree. "I can already tell by that look in your eye."

"My apologies, Anders. It is not necessarily your fault anyway. It is an impression most have; she is rather stoic." I just knew now it was a mask much like Nuada's own, and I knew she felt far more than she would, and could, ever show. "She is also a dear friend, and Nuada's twin. I cannot help but feel a little protective."

"Well, of course. I mean; you're protective of Neria and me. Why wouldn't you be protective of your sister-by-marriage?" Anders grinned and I immediately went red at the words. Marriage was... as a mage, it had never been something I had considered. Mages... did not marry. They were not allowed, and even if they were, few would dare, fearful of what the templars or Chantry might do. But I... I was a Warden. I was an Arlessa. Both were... both were allowed to marry. It was a strange, yet happy, thought. I wondered... what Nuada would think of the idea? I did not need such a ceremony, of course, yet the chance to so openly proclaim our love, to celebrate it so publicly, was... "Layla, I totally lost you, didn't I?"

"I am listening!" I was now at least, and by his grin, Anders was very much aware of this little fact. "...I was thinking of what to buy Elspeth."

"Sure. Whatever you say." He could at least pretend. Meanie. "But ah, can you smell that?" Could I smell… what? This was quite the odd subject change. "That is the smell of freedom!" Anders grinned and I had to roll my eyes. "It comes with the smell of dogs and dirt, of course, but freedom as well."

"Freedom?" I gave him a look, wondering if he had hit his head while he had been out of my sight. "What brought this on?"

"Just thinking of how we never would've had this sort of conversation in the Tower. Mages are barely tolerated, after all." He shrugged and part of me slumped. Were we going to argue about the Circle again? "Like we need permission to live. No chance of proving yourself, everyone must be protected from you, the end."

"Anders." It was all I said. It was all I could say. I… could not say he was wrong about the faults of the Circle, but I did still like it. It had many, many flaws, but I remembered how it had protected me. I had been happy, within its walls. I had been safe. Now, I was happier and less safe, but what I went through… I could never subject another to the traumas I faced. That was not even going into how the templars would never let us look for another way, how the Chantry would never. One would need to cripple both to even have a chance, but the resulting devastation… I could not subject anyone to such. I simply could not.

It was like what Aiden said. 'For the greater good' was not a good enough reason. 'For the greater good' was a reason too easily written and washed away. 'For the greater good' always hid how those sacrificed so often were innocents who had no part in anything or, worse, were 'conveniently' the less desired members of society. In this case, the resulting bloodshed needed for the 'greater good' of mages… I could not do so. I could not choose it.

"I know; I know," Anders grumbled, shaking his head. He, too, knew it was pointless to have this debate with me. I could never be angry as he was. The most I felt was sadness. "It's just… all I want is a decent meal, a pretty girl or guy, and the right to shoot lightning at fools."

"Anders…" I sighed. Now was not the time to mention how the 'right to shoot lightning at fools' was exactly a reason why mages were feared. It was better to try and make a joke. "Well, I have been told I am pretty. Do I count?"

"Layla, you are, and have always been, absolutely adorable and gorgeous." He did his best to be as dignified as possible, despite the subject matter. "You are also my little sister. I cannot even begin to explain why it would be weird, given the context." I stuck my tongue out at him (again) and he laughed (again). I was glad; he had been brooding the whole trip over. Anders brooding was never good; he usually did something stupid and reckless immediately afterwards. "Not to mention I think Nuada would kill me."

"I doubt he would do so, at least in a way that could be traced back to him." Besides, Nuada never seemed to doubt my affections. Rather, he worried far more over how happy I could truly be with someone like him. This, of course, ignored how 'someone like him' was exactly who I fell in love with, but this was neither here nor there. Emotions and insecurities rarely listened to logic.

"That... is so not comforting." Was it supposed to be? "Regardless, I... wait, I think I lost my trail of thought there." He sighed, shaking his head. "Bit of a fog in my head, almost like whispers."

"Whispers?" I tilted my head curiously, prepared to ask more, but then... then I 'heard' it too. Those whispers you could not hear with your hears, but your soul… I knew them. They were...! "Oh, fuck you too, Maker."

"...Since when do you curse like that?!"

Any other time, I might have laughed. I might have teased. But I barely had time to shout a warning and throw up a shield before the first of the darkspawn burst from the alleys. Then chaos erupted, because darkspawn were in the middle of the market.

"Anders, please start evacuations," I ordered calmly, hands out as I adjusted my barrier. I had it wrapped awkwardly around the main crowd of the market, and already, I could see the signs of a stampede in the crowd. I could not blame them for panicking. "I want them in the Chantry. It should be secure." It was a shame I did not have access to the castle itself, but it was locked until the Oathbreaker process was complete for Esmerelle, with the key already in Denerim. Breaking the doors to get inside would be counterproductive at best; perhaps later I could send Nathaniel to pick any doors or locks. "Best to move them quickly, though. I do not want them to suffer crush injuries."

"You sure you can hold the barriers alone?" Anders asked, frowning over them worriedly. I knew why; Neria had always been the 'barrier maiden' of our group. "There's... a lot of them." He was right. There were. More and more squirmed out of the alleys. "Perhaps-"

"Anders. Please do as I say." Besides, knowing how long it had been, and knowing Aiden and our particular sense of timing, he should be...

"Mistress Layla, how long can the barriers hold?" And he would be right here, greatsword in hand, with Justice at his side. "Can you give me a minute?" he asked, glancing over everything. He had it all figured out in a matter of seconds. "No, thirty seconds. I yelled at the guards on the way and they were moving fast. Where's Nathaniel?"

"He left to speak with his sister, but I am certain he will return ere long," I answered, frowning slightly as I noticed even more darkspawn appear. Worse, they were organized. That meant there was leadership, an alpha or maybe even a general. "If I switch to a more powerful shield, I can give you those seconds." I would need to burn some of my blood to do it, but it could be done.

"Good. Give me a three second head start before switching." Aiden looked over the area again, and I distantly and randomly thought of how once, he would have never considered taking command. Now, he did without a thought. "Anders, I second Mistress Layla's order for evacuations. They're going to rush and crush before long if someone doesn't keep them calm. Justice, you're with me. A corpse is only going to scare them further." He sighed suddenly. "I'm reminded why Nuada is the tactician. I hate this sort of thing." He was good at it, though. That was why we made him our leader. "Whatever. Move. Now."

He surged forward, giving no chance of protests, and I turned my attention fully to my barrier. It... was not holding well. I wished I had thought to ask Neria for advice during these past six months, but no, I had stupidly assumed I would not fight for some time. I could only be grateful for the Elven Warrior's memories, and privately resolved to study each one in further detail before switching my 'standard' shield to the powerful Shimmering Shield.

The drain hit me instantly. That was the largest drawback of the Shimmering Shield, just how much power it required. I had to immediately switch to using my blood to keep from depleting my mana entirely, and I winced as the pain spiked through my arms. Tiny cuts climbed from my wrist to my elbow, a quiet testament to where I pulled the blood, and I swore it boiled in my veins. It hurt enough for it. But I had to endure. I had to hold. Aiden asked for thirty seconds. I would not fail him.

Five seconds in, Aiden crashed into the darkspawn to carve a path with Justice guarding his rear. Ten seconds in, Anders seized full command of the crowd, urging them down the streets in a nice and orderly fashion, with minimal chances of someone being caught in a crush or trampled. Twenty seconds in, arrows started covering Aiden and Justice, hinting Nathaniel had made it to us at last. Twenty-five seconds in, Amaranthine's guards joined Aiden just outside my barrier. Twenty-nine seconds in, Aiden turned to me amidst the crumpling and dying darkspawn to wave and sign 'all clear'.

Thirty-one seconds in, I let the shield go and immediately turned to assist Anders with evacuating and healing, sparing only a bit of mana to cast 'Regeneration' on myself to heal the wounds (and minimize the chances of substantial blood loss). Aiden and the guards would prevent the darkspawn from following us, so I would focus on saving as many as I could.

This... was very much not how I planned on spending my time today. I would have to buy those gifts later.

Aiden's prediction of the storm proved true. As the battle raged outside the Chantry's walls, the sky opened up with a giant crack of thunder and a deluge of rain. I was almost grateful for it, as it drowned out the sounds of battle. Instead, my ears were full of whimpers of pain, sniffles of sorrow. After all, despite our quick action, there were many injured. There were, thankfully, fewer than expected. There were even fewer dead than expected. Neither changed they existed, and neither changed the absolutely terrible situation we were now in. We were under attack, within the walls of Amaranthine, and had to protect too many civilians to count. We were ambushed by darkspawn, and we had to somehow keep them from corrupting one of the major trading hubs of Fereldan. The more I thought about it, the more ridiculous it all sounded.

So, I did not. I did not think about it. I instead focused on what was in front of me, and that was all my patients. Anders and I had set up a make-shift clinic once again, but this time, neither of us were having fun. The work was messy and bloody, and the worst were those... those who had to be mercy-killed. Anders balked each time, but I knew it had to be done. There was no cure for the Blight. Becoming a Warden only bought you a few more decades, perhaps, but that was it. The Calling would come for us all, and it was no true mercy. That even assumed we had the resources, and time, to put so many through the Joining at once. So, the ones who had been corrupted were killed, to spare them further pain. Those who showed signs were quarantined, just in case. It was necessary. I knew it. I knew it.

Each one hurt, though. Each one made me grit my teeth and clench my fists, but I kept going. I had to keep going. Anders had to do the same. He hated it, hated himself for it, but he had to. Of course, he did so in the only way he knew how: giving everything and more with each spell. He could not do that. We both knew it, even as he kept at it. He would always do this, back at the Tower, and every time, he would end up a patient himself and Wynne would give him the same lecture each time. I could recite it by now. It always started with-

"Anders, how many times have I told you? You put too much of yourself in your spells." ...It always started with those words. "Oh, what am I going to do with you?" It was the same words, in the same tone, in the same voice. Yet despite how similar it was to my memory, I did not fully comprehend it was the same lecturer until I looked up from my current patient and saw Wynne smiling at us nearby. "You will wear yourself out, especially with your Empathy, if you keep doing so," she chided, shaking her head. You would think we were back in the Tower, not elbow deep in someone's abdomen while I tried to keep their insides where they were supposed to be. "Stitch them up. I know Irving taught you both medicine to go alongside your magic. We coordinated it."

"Wynne, what are you doing here?" I asked, still not fully comprehending she was here. Anders was even more dumbfounded than I was, and he definitely used more power than necessarily to tend to the bleeding scalp his child patient had. "When did you...?" Wait, no, this did not matter at the moment. We were still up in our ears with wounded. "No, please, answer that later. Can you take a third of the injured?"

"Of course."

With Wynne joining us, the mad rush to save lives slowly became far more organized. Triage became more effective. It made sense, of course. Wynne had far more experience with this sort of thing than Anders and me combined. But no small part of me lamented at how much I still had to learn about this sort of thing. The rest simply cheered at how effective everything became, along with the relief of not having to completely be 'in charge' for a moment. I could simply focus on my task, the sort of thing I once thought would be my life. In the Tower, I had studied to be a healer, and maybe I would have picked up research when I was older. Maybe, I would have been a teacher, once I had matured. Now... well, no matter how much I liked otherwise, I was more 'warrior' than 'healer' at this point. Research and teaching would have to be secondary and tertiary pursuits, outside of my duties. But, for now, I could simply be 'the healer' and I welcomed the change, even as I mourned the circumstances.

Our defenders returned at some point. I did not know when. No one had announced it or anything. I only knew because my patients suddenly wore dented armor, and smelled absolutely terrible. The reek of battle coupled with the terrible mud was a potent combination, especially when you had become used to elfroot and other herbs. I decided, after finishing with the initial wave, to find some incense to burn, to clear the air if only a little, and then... well, I had intended to go back to work. But, unfortunately, pausing even for that long gave exhaustion the opportunity to sink its fangs deep, and I staggered. I... had used too much magic in too short a time. I may have a larger mana pool than most, a testament to my willpower or so Irving always liked to say, but I still could run low and... and my thoughts were very much running from me right now. I simply could not think straight. In fact, I could not think any straighter than I stood, and considering how I was teetering and tottering...

"And I think it's time you sat, Mistress Layla." Aiden caught me before I outright fell, though. He caught me and easily scooped me up to carry me to a surprisingly comfortable chair. "There we are," he murmured, smiling down as he fussed. I made a face at him, and absently checked him over. He had a gash to his cheek and a stiffness to his movements suggested bruising underneath his clothes. But he was clean and did not wear his armor or weapon. That told me he had been here for some time, and likely got looked at by someone. "Things are under control, for now."

"That is... good to hear," I whispered, letting myself relaxed. Almost immediately, everything ached, from my back to my hands. I massaged the latter in hopes of soothing them. "Where did they come from? Do we know?"

"Alleys, mostly. And annoyingly." Aiden sighed, shaking his head. I almost asked, but I figured it out when I saw the pain lingering in his eyes. Some had died to ambushes. "Lord Nuada has said the city has many ways in and out for a siege."

"Highever did, as did the Tower of Ishal." It was a random observation, born from tiredness. I regretted it instantly when I saw him wince at the mention of Ostagar. It haunted our nightmares. I would wake still smelling the smoke from the beacon, and the ogre's corpse. Nuada always kept quiet, but so often, he would cling and cling, a hand over my stomach where I should have a scar, but did not because he had bargained with Flemeth to take my wounds and Alistair's. I did not need to ask about Aiden or Cleon. I knew the haunted look in their eyes, when they first woke. "Still, if it is that, then I have an idea."

"Oh?" He managed a shaky smile. I pretended it was true. "Where then?"

"Amaranthine had trouble with smugglers not long ago. Anders, Cleon, Sigrun, and I took care of them, and found the tunnels they used for their operation. I told the guards to seal them immediately, remembering what had happened to the Keep." It seemed they did not heed my warning. I would learn later why. "So, whoever is fit for duty can watch all known entrances instead."

"In the cold, cold rain." Aiden snickered, finding something amusing about it. I could only shrug, thinking of what illnesses they could come down with in the chill. "Also, while I did take a head injury at some point, I could have sworn it was nowhere near bad enough to hallucinate. Particularly hallucinating Wynne."

"Hmm? Ah, no, she is here." I twisted in my chair, and saw her coming to join us, dragging Anders by the collar to ensure he followed. "How are things, Wynne?"

"Well enough, for now, though Anders refuses to rest," Wynne sighed, shaking her head. With all the efficiency born from long years of practice, she swung Anders around and had him sitting at my feet in a blink, with his head resting against my leg. "See? Layla behaves. Should you not try to be a good example?"

"Neria was the good example, and I was the bad, Wynne," Anders immediately snarked. He leaned more against my leg, though, closing his eyes briefly. He looked dreadful, and without thinking, I ran my hand over his hair, just as I did back in the Tower. "Wow, if not for the smell, I'd think we were in the Tower."

"Yes, the incense is atrocious." It was better than blood and bile. "But regardless, it is good to see you again, Aiden, though I much prefer the previous circumstances."

"You and me both, Wynne," Aiden replied, smiling ruefully. He glanced around and signaled to Justice and Nathaniel for them to join us. "So, there's a lot of questions to be had, but for right now, I think we need a battle plan. Mistress Layla suggested they used the tunnels to sneak in, but despite what I joked just now, I'm not sure we have the manpower to check all of them."

"A mage can seal them up if you have enough power and raw materials nearby," Wynne pointed out. Briefly, I thought of that strange darkspawn in the Mines, who sealed the tunnel behind him. Energizing objects to shift and turn was a trick most mages could pull off. "Now, granted, the three of us will need to rest, but Layla should be able to do so herself." Clearly, I should have done it last time, but it was better, and more secure, if done with engineering, not magic. This would only be a quick fix. "Ah, and are these your new companions?"

"Yes, some of them. I told you about them last time." Aiden gestured to Nathaniel and Justice as they joined us. Justice, thankfully, still had his hood up. "Wynne, this is Nathaniel Howe." Nathaniel bowed, smiling a little ruefully. I wondered if he knew Wynne had been among those who had gone into Howe's Denerim estate. "And this is... all right, this one is weird, but-"

"You..." Justice, however, interrupted the introductions. "You carry Faith," he continued, with a frown. The drying skin on his face twisted awkwardly at the motion. Kristoff, it seemed, had not been one for frowns. "You carry Faith inside you." ...Ah. Of course. Of course, he could sense that. "Why? Why is a Spirit of Faith within you, Elder Mage?" He also had no sense of 'perhaps I should wait to ask'.

"Oh my, it seems my position as 'oddest companion of the Wardens' is in jeopardy," Wynne immediately joked, smiling with a quirked brow. I was glad she took the untactful reveal of her greatest secret well. As for the rest of us, I could only sigh, Aiden had facepalmed, Nathaniel looked bewildered, and Anders had frozen at my feet. "Then again, given the others, I already had quite the competition for the title. But must it always be 'elder mage'? Shale called me that too." She made a face, and studied Justice closely, her eyes shrewd even as her smile remained kind. Aiden and I exchanged a look, as truthfully, Wynne was probably the most normal of our companions. "What brings you here, Spirit? In the body of a corpse, might I add?"

"It was not by choice...!" For someone who should not have vocal chords, or working lungs, Justice was surprisingly adept at hissing grumpiness. "A demon sundered the Fade in her haste and I was yanked through."

"I see, and you fear such a thing happened to the Spirit in me?" Wynne smiled indulgently. I thought to glance down at Anders, curious if he had any other reaction, but he remained perfectly still, staring with wide-eyes and a dropped jaw. Then again, it was more than a little odd to hear your oldest teacher was technically an abomination. It was also odd to see an abomination with their mind and sanity intact. "You need not fret. The Spirit of Faith saved me when I otherwise would have died and now, her power sustains me. I live so long as her strength holds, and when it fades, we shall both pass on." She shrugged, perfectly at peace with it all. Aiden and I shared a grimace, though. We had gone through too much to simply accept such a thing, even if it was an inevitability. Everyone dies. We just... wanted to make death work for it, I supposed. "Now, Anders, do keep your jaw from hanging for so long. I don't want you to choke on a fly again."

"That was one time!" Anders immediately protested, to my giggles. It had been rather memorable. "Though, I think shock is an understandable response to you rewriting all the lessons the Circle gave us on possessions."

"Mine is a special circumstance, born from the Spirit's desire to help me," Wynne replied in her lecture tone. Anders and I immediately shared a look at it; we knew it well. "Most possessions are born from a demon's longing for the mortal world. I imagine if there were more like mine, I would not be seen as an anomaly."

"Somehow, I doubt the Chantry is aware of this."

"Oh, of course not. I may be old, but I am not quite senile, Anders."

"Yet." He grinned, completely unrepentant, and Wynne playfully scowled. "Also, while we remain completely off topic, I never did hear why you're here. Shouldn't you be on a boat to Cumberland by now? Think I heard something about that from... someone."

"I should, but..." Surprisingly, Wynne made a face. "The Spirit kept fretting. She is very attached to these four, you see, and greatly disliked how we couldn't stay. You would think she'd be the first to have faith." So, what did it say about us that a Spirit of Faith didn't? "Unfortunately, it only fed my own fears and so, I left the port to return here. I was planning on heading to the Keep directly when all this happened."

"Well, regardless of how it happened, I'm glad if only for the extra healer," Aiden said, seizing control of the conversation once more. Anders was right; we were terribly off-topic. "Everything else, including how we apparently get into enough trouble to worry a Spirit of Faith, can wait until after we have finished with a... oh, hello there." It took two seconds to realize someone else had walked up then. I barely recognized him as the constable. "You're in charge of the guards, right? Never did get your name."

"It's Aidan, Warden-Commander," the constable replied, with a very slight smile. It took a long second to realize he and Aiden shared a name. This was not at all potentially confusing. "Constable Aidan."

"Might... use your title just to keep myself from feeling too weird." Aiden took a few moments to recover. "So, did something happen? Still discussing things on how to best defend the area, sadly."

"I figured, but my guards at the gates discovered something so unusual that I figured it best to bring to you immediately." Oh, this was going to be lovely. "We have a darkspawn at the gates. A lone one. That talks."

"...A lone, talking darkspawn? Again?" Aiden frowned, crossing his arms. "Well, I suppose not 'again'. The others came with forces."

"Well, I'm glad it makes some sense to you, Warden-Commander." Constable Aidan pitched his voice to be equal parts relieved and exasperated. "But yes, a lone one. Claims he has a message for the Wardens."

"A message? Well, seems they learned from the last one." Aiden closed his eyes for a moment before turning to me. "Well, Mistress Layla? Shall we greet this messenger?"

"Yes, the rest can set up patrols and defenses," I agreed, already pushing myself up. Anders wordlessly protested the loss of his pillow, but helped me steady myself when my legs protested. I was still... very tired. But I had a job to do, and I knew why Aiden had asked. He expected trouble. We always did. "We should see if anyone has rain-cloaks for us. I do not fancy a walk through the rain right now."

Cloaks were found quickly; I had a feeling Constable Aidan already had them ready for us. Once they were on, Aiden and I ventured out into the cold, cold rain. It was… the city was muffled in the storm. The market which had been bustling mere hours ago was dead. Streaks of pink and red raced down the streets, bloody battles washed away. The only movement was guards slowly moving bodies out of the way. The darkspawn were piled; the rest were laid out respectfully. Usually, I would not think anything of it, but right now, considering we were going to meet a talking darkspawn, it felt… odd. It felt wrong. But I did not say anything. I did not know how to articulate the feeling.

If Aiden shared my thoughts, he did not show it. He strode through the rain-battered streets with his head held high, all the way to the gates and beyond. There, standing in the middle of the road, barely visible through the rain, was a single darkspawn. It stared at the sky in wonder, reaching up at the clouds to try and grab the raindrops. It closed its hand and brought it down to his face, marveling at the water slipping down its gauntlet. But Aiden kicked a rock to make a noise, and its attention immediately went to us. After a second, it brought its hand down to its side, and I saw it had no weapons. There was no sense of magic. They… were not armed at all. They were simply… a Messenger.

"Greetings to you, Wardens," the Messenger mumbled. The words were slow, like it was still learning how to talk. "The Architect has a message." The Architect… that was one of the leaders of the Darkspawn Civil War, yes? Had we… oh, my head was still fuzzy from exhaustion. It was better to not even try to remember what all I knew and did not know. I was certain to get it wrong.

"Yes, you told that to the guards," Aiden replied with a shrug. Water slipped off his cloak, a testament to the deluge. However, when I looked up, I saw it lightening. Would it remain or was it simply a lull? I was too tired to say. "I am pleased you are less violent than your predecessor."

"It was a confusion." Now how confused did one have to be to confuse 'give a message' with- "The Architect told the Withered he wished to speak with the Warden-Commander alone. The Withered was too used to violence, and thought it meant remove all others." So, it… thought the Architect wanted everyone else dead? I… could not quite connect the dots there. But, then again, I… did not have the same background. "I was instructed better. Give a message to the Wardens, but only fight if attacked. Only fight to keep away."

"I see." Aiden frowned slightly and glanced at me. I shrugged, biting back a squeak as water slipped under my collar. This cloak did not fit me well. "Well, then speak. What message do you have?"

"The Mother's Army, it marches to Vigil's Keep." The words were simple, but they hit me like a stonefist. If there was an army at the Keep, then… "She attacks now." Then they were in danger. They were in danger! They... were under attack? They were in danger? The Keep was... oh, it was just like the Siege of Denerim again, when we had gone to Redcliffe first! Yet this time, Nuada and Cleon were not with us! They were...!

"It will be fine." Aiden's calm voice cut through my worried thoughts. "Lord Nuada and Cleon are at the Keep," he said firmly. It took me only a second to realize he was saying it aloud to convince himself. After all, we were three or four days away. We would never make it, assuming we were not blocked. "So, it will be fine. I do, however, appreciate the warning. Confused as I am by the sudden attack."

"The Wardens are important to the Architect. The Mother knows this." The Messenger gestured, and Aiden and I exchanged a look. What did it mean by 'important'? "You must return and-"

"As I said, it will be fine. They have no need of us right now." Aiden tilted his head very slightly, a sudden shrewd light in his eyes. "I am curious, though. Do we know where the Mother is now?" Why would he…? Oh, no, I knew. If she sent her army, than her lair would be relatively empty. Though, given the trouble Amaranthine was in…

"Fall of Drakes? No, that is…" Surprisingly, Messenger frowned. "Drake's Fall. Yes, that is being the proper term. The Architect had me repeat it to be certain. Drake's Fall, in the Dragonbone Wastes. Her Nest being below." Where in the Thedas was this? We would have to snag a map from the Chantry. "Will you truly not be going to the Keep? If it falls, then the Mother…"

"It won't fall." Perhaps if we said it enough, we would both believe. Well, no, I did believe it would not fall. Nuada and Cleon would ensure it. Yet, who would die? Who would be hurt? The thoughts made my heart ache. "My second-in-command and the slayer of the Archdemon are there. Between them, they will…" Please, be fine.

"If you are being certain…" It seemed both confused and reluctant. "Is this… what Utha says is 'faith'?"

"I do not know who Utha is, but yes, I have faith in them." We had to. "But now, what…" Aiden grimaced. I frowned, wondering why. "I… you brought us a message, a warning, and I am grateful…" Oh, now I knew. It was a darkspawn. Darkspawn spread the blight, just by walking. To even let them leave would risk so much. Yet, at the same time, there was something so terribly wrong at-

"The Architect be explaining. We poison the surface. Whoever came would die." …Again. Again, Messenger's words hit like stones. This time, though, it was for a completely different reason. "Please. I do not be wishing to bring more pain." Somehow, the Messenger managed a smile. I could not even begin to say how creepy it was, but it was an honest attempt nonetheless. It made the situation all the more bizarre and surprisingly painful. "That is why I chose the Architect."

"...That so?" It was so... so strange to hear something like that, from a darkspawn of all things. "Well, you're right. The darkspawn carry a corruption within them, and until there is a way to stop that, it's simply not safe for anyone. So, for the sake of the many..." Aiden made a face at the words. "I hate that phrase. I hate it."

"That is what Wardens be doing, yes?" Messenger tilted its head curiously. "One for many?"

"Yeah, and you'd be surprised how many of the 'ones' are the unwanted." He sighed and brought up his Vigilance. Somehow, despite having to pull it out from under his cloak, the gesture was dignified and powerful. "So, I won't say it. Instead, I will say this. You gave me information that might save our lives, Messenger. Our lives, and the lives of all who we protect. Do not doubt that." I knew those words. He said something similar to Rowland, when we first arrived at the Keep. "Rest easy."

In one swing, he decapitated the Messenger. I set the pieces aflame before they hit the ground, both to give a proper burial and to lessen the chances of the Blight corrupting the soil. Amaranthine had enough troubles. But now... now we faced a conundrum. It was one I already knew the solution to, but I did not... necessarily... like it much. So, I kept silent, simply recasting the fire spell when the rain threatened to put it out, until he spoke once more.

"What a mess..." Aiden breathed, once the last of the ashes had burned out. He lifted his head to the stormy sky, letting the rain hit his face. "So, we need to somehow secure the city and confirm the information in a somewhat reasonable time. Somehow."

"You said that twice," I pointed out with some amusement. He only shrugged. "The answer is simple, you know."

"Is it?"

"Yes." I waited for him to look at me, and held his gaze, making sure to not falter in the slightest. "You take Anders and confirm the information. I shall remain here with Nathaniel and Justice to secure the city."

"You what?!" Aiden whirled on me, mouth agape. "Absolutely not. I am not-"

"You can and you will. We both know it." This was hard. This was scary. Yet, at the same time, it was not so different from when we split up to deal with the Siege of Denerim. It was just... a larger distance between us. We could do this. I did not like it, but we could do this. "I cannot leave Amaranthine. I cannot leave its people. I am their Arlessa, and I am a Warden. It is my duty twice over to protect them."

"...But I am the Warden-Commander. My duty is to annihilate the threat, more than protect the people." He sighed gustily, piecing it together as fast as I knew he would. The only thing that stopped him from saying it first was his hesitance in leaving me. "If we don't at least confirm the threat's location, we will only suffer further. So, I definitely have to leave and I have to assume I will fight. Meaning I need a healer with me. And since its darkspawn, it's better if a Warden-healer came with me." It would also leave the more experienced healer with me, who would have more wounded. But neither of us wanted to say it aloud. It was better to simply...

"It is miracle enough none of our companions were corrupted. It is best not to tempt fate further." I forced myself to smile. "It will be fine. I am a mage, and an army onto myself. Perhaps you should even-"

"You are still only one person, so you need more to serve as your eyes. I see your bluff." Drat. "No, I will take Anders and Anders alone. Together, we will confirm the location. I'll decide what to do from there."

"Knowing us, you will kill the Mother, or the Architect."

"Or both. But still, I'll decide then." He turned to look at the city, and I did the same. Nuada once told me Amaranthine was named for a flower said never to fade, eternal and everlasting. I could only hope it lived up to its name. "Let me do another patrol to ensure we're at least clear now. And I need to find a damned map."

"Of course." That should buy me time to argue with Anders. I knew he would rather stay with the patients, but I also knew how to win against him. "May the Maker watch over us."

"One day, he might actually do more than that." Aiden's voice was bitter; I could not blame him. "Let's go."

Aiden and Anders left within the hour. They would have left sooner, but it took Aiden some time to discover the Wastes were in the western part of Amaranthine. Anders had protested, but my pout remained as devastating as ever and he had crumbled by the time Aiden had his map. I saw them off with a smile, hiding my worries with the cheer, and set about using my magic to block every known entrance. From there, it was a long steady stream of patrols, reports, and tending to the wounded with Wynne. I kept a close eye on everyone, ensuring they took breaks and slept, with one exception. Justice, as a spirit trapped in a corpse, had no need for sleep or food and, thus, kept constant vigil. Fittingly, it was Justice who informed Nathaniel when the darkspawn returned for a second wave of assaults, though the location was... bizarre to say the least.

"What do you mean they are crawling out of the inn?" I asked, staring blankly at Nathaniel. He had been heading in from a patrol when Justice had called out, and, thus, was the one who informed me. "I have heard of bedbugs, but this seems a tad ridiculous."

"Based on the description, I think they might be an evolved version of the Children," Nathaniel added grimly, water dripping into a puddle at his feet. He held tightly onto his bow, and his eyes darted to the civilian area, where his sister was. I could only thank our luck we had visited today. How much would have been destroyed if we had come later? How many would have died? "Damn that Oghren was right. Maggots evolve and children grow."

"It would have happened regardless." Belatedly, I finished folding the blanket I had been holding. Wynne had asked I gather what extra I could, for everyone's comfort. The Chantry, thankfully, had plenty in their stores. "Well, this is... awkward. Where was the inn again?"

"Directly across the street."

"...Ah." I paused before passing him the blanket. "Maybe you should use this as a towel while I fetch my rapier."

"No point. It's pouring again."

"Lovely."

From there, it was a whirlwind of activity. It had to be. In the time it took for me to find my rapier, the front doors of the Chantry splintered from the assault. It took three guards to push them open against the hoard, and it was only thanks to a Glyph of Repulsion they did not overwhelm us immediately. There were... so many. There were so, so many. Worse, though, was how so many were these 'Children' and I agreed with the comparisons. They were like maggots, fleas. They had far too many legs with far too many joints and, for some terrible reason, their faces split open whenever they screeched. For another terrible reason, they had lengthy claws which folded out from their backs. They were... nauseating.

Then there was their uncanny ability to leap wherever they pleased to pin and maul their victims, spit poison and virulent mucus to corrode everything around it, and some even exploded when they died. I did not like these things. I did not like them at all. I especially did not like the confirmation we had seen nothing like this during the Blight. Why were there new ones? How?

"For every one we kill, two more spring out to replace it," Nathaniel grumbled next to me. He pulled an arrow from a nearby corpse and shot it at a Child's eye. I cast a Winter's Grasp on it as it screeched, and turned to ask him... something. I was going to ask him something. But I was distracted by how he stole a quiver from a nearby corpse, and immediately went back to shooting. "Justice has made it down the stairs, at least." It was farther than most of us. It had been a struggle to even close the Chantry's doors behind us, much less push our way off the landing. The inn may be just across the street, but that street was bursting with darkspawn. "We won't... ah, Constable, hello."

"Once again, you sneak up on us," I noted, turning to face Constable Aidan. His arm bled sluggishly, and his cheek was gouged. Otherwise, he looked fine. I sensed no Blight in him. "Ah, I did not mean to be rude." My words were too tired to come across as teasing, which I intended.

"But you do have a talent for it, Constable." Nathaniel forced a grin; Constable Aidan rolled his eyes at us. "Yes, we are trying, and failing, to keep lighthearted. I don't know how Nuada does it."

"Alistair is talented at it as well, as is Zevran." We... were off topic. "Regardless, Constable, what brings you to us? Is there another entrance to the Chantry that the darkspawn have discovered?"

"No, not yet, though it wouldn't surprise me at this point," Constable Aidan replied dryly. He gestured to the fighting, and to the bloody puddles forming at our feet. This was... potentially very dangerous. Would the darkspawn's blood still corrupt when diluted with rain water? "However, we are in a stalemate."

"I think a stalemate implies equal ground," I sighed, shaking my head. I instantly regretted it; like the others, I had forgone a rain cloak and the rain still poured down. I was soaked, and my hair stuck awkwardly. I should have put it into a braided bun, as I had during the Blight, but I had no time. Well, no, I did, but I had focused it elsewhere. "Ours is crumbling beneath our feet." It was the same reason why the Blight was so terrifying. Darkspawn did not need to eat. Darkspawn did not need to rest. We needed both. "They must have leadership, more leadership. It is the only explanation." This meant... there was only one choice. "Justice has made it to the bottom of the stairs. Nathaniel and I will meet him and push forward into the Inn. The rest of you will remain to guard."

"You what?!" For some reason, despite this being the only choice, Constable Aidan looked startled. "Push through with only the three of you?!" Nathaniel, meanwhile, simply shrugged at the implied order and stole another quiver from a different corpse. Was it a good or bad thing that he did not hesitate. "I know Wardens are skilled, my lady, but with these numbers...!"

"Oh, there is no reason to fret." I smiled with a confidence I did not feel. I could only hope it was half as convincing as Nuada and Alistair's own smiles. "I can handle a few darkspawn. Have you not heard of what I did during the Siege of Denerim?" Constable Aidan hesitated, which told me a lot. He had. He had heard of how I re-captured the port alongside Elspeth, how I had torn through dozens on my own. He simply... either he did not fully believe them or he did not think it a good enough reason to let the three go ahead alone.

He was a good man. I hoped he survived. I would need help from people like him if Amaranthine was to prosper in the future.

"If we're doing this, we'd better move quickly," Nathaniel commented, taking advantage of Constable Aidan's hesitancy. He pointed to the stairs, where darkspawn swarmed. There was only a very small space where none stood, the area immediately around Justice. It made sense. After all, Justice was like them. As a Spirit bound to a corpse, he needed neither rest nor food. "I don't fancy trying to figure out if Justice can still fight if they hack his arm off." That was... certainly a mental image right there.

It was apparently enough of one to make Constable Aidan stop protesting. Instead, he shouted orders and had his men open up a path for Nathaniel and me to make it to Justice. From there, Justice hacked our way across the street and past the splintered doors of the Inn. We cut down the darkspawn immediately in front of us, and then ducked into a sideroom to try and get a lay of the area. We could not do this blindly; there would be no reinforcements here.

"...Layla." Nathaniel's voice was strangely calm as we peered into the overrun main room. So much was damaged, and the floor looked sticky with dried ale. There would be a lot of compensation in the future. Did our treasury have enough? "The one in the back there, closest to the staircase..." he continued slowly, pointing to show me which one he meant. It was easy, though. He pointed to the one bit of order in the chaos, a darkspawn the others yielded to. Though we were a distance away, I thought I heard them speak. "That's... the leader there, isn't it?"

"Since they are coming in through somewhere, I would guess they are the leader here, but there are others in the tunnels and wherever the tunnel's entrance is," I answered, doing my best to think. It was... what made the most sense to me, at least. Even if this was a Civil War, the darkspawn still needed direction, and not all of them spoke. Most of them seemed 'typical'. "Therefore, I think there are two others, at least."

"Meaning finding whatever hole they're crawling out of and pushing through. With minimal chances of stealth while in the tunnels. They can't be that wide." Nathaniel frowned and pulled an arrow from his quiver. When Justice and I brought our own weapons up, though, he shook his head. "I'll be useless in the tunnels. But in a place like this? I am the perfect distraction." ...Oh. Oh, I knew what this was now. He was... "Leave this one to me."

"...You are not allowed to die." I wished I knew a way to convince him otherwise, but I did not. There was too little time, and I... had to conserve mana right now. At least, I had to hold back until we reached the tunnels. So, though I instinctively wanted to protest, I knew I could not. "You may, in fact, consider it an order."

"Don't worry, Layla. I promise not to die before you and Nuada marry." He said the words lightly, and despite the situation, I could not keep from blushing. I scowled up at him when he grinned. "Anders suggested mentioning that would be a great way for revenge, and he was quite right."

"Anders is a meanie."

"Is... there something special about weddings?" Justice suddenly asked, frowning slightly. At first, I thought him scolding, but then realized his words were sincere and earnest. "I have Kristoff's memories, of course, and I knew of a few Spirits who delighted in watching them, but..."

"It can be special, and that is a conversation for another day," Nathaniel noted blithely. One would think we were chatting while sharing a meal, not standing but steps away from darkspawn. "But I'm counting on you to guard Layla, Justice. She doesn't wear very good armor."

"Of course."

"I am right here, and I can easily hurt you both," I deadpanned, unable to bite my tongue. Justice tilted his head; Nathaniel grinned. "But that will be later. Nathaniel, we will move when you have gotten it away from the stairs." After all, it looked like they were coming from somewhere up there, which was odd. Why would there be tunnels upstairs?

"Must be a secondary entrance to the cellars," Nathaniel noted. I... must have made some noise in confusion because he shrugged. "No doubt the smuggler tunnels were originally tunnels to use in a siege. Some of the cellars here have entrances in their ceilings to better hide. Those typically open on the second floor of the building." So, would the cellars themselves be crawling with darkspawn? That was... not a fun thought. "Regardless, here." He passed me a handkerchief, one with a faint, but noticeable, scent. "I'm about to use a toxin to drive them mad. Keep that over your mouth so you don't suffer the same."

"How will you get it in them?" Even as I asked, I brought the handkerchief up. I knew enough from Elspeth and Morrigan to not underestimate poisons. I still did not know each one Elspeth used. I was not sure any of us did.

"The air, of course." Ah, so this was why he gave me the handkerchief and not Justice... wait, did he just say the air?! "Get moving." Yes, of course, but we were going to discuss this later!

Justice and I crept along the sides of the room as Nathaniel did his thing. I was still flabbergasted by it all, and also how Nathaniel did not wear a handkerchief for himself but seemed just fine. But there was no time for it. There simply was not. So, we crept and Nathaniel shot an arrow through the darkspawn general's arm to catch and hold its attention while we made our slow way across the room and up the stairs. Once there, Justice had to push a path through, but thanks to the damage the Children left in their wake, we found the entrance before long: a storeroom in the room farthest from the stairs. The door had been busted open, so I spared a little mana to throw a fireball down and catch any who were immediately trying to make their way up. Justice jumped down as soon as the smoke and stench billowed up, and I followed with only a single thought which did not suit the situation. If this was used for smuggling, then had the inn's owner benefited? Was it simply a path tied to the tunnels? I would need to investigate when all this was over.

Regardless, Nathaniel had been right. The door had led to the cellars, and the darkspawn had destroyed quite a few boxes to make a haphazard staircase to the ceiling. I was curious how they even knew, but decided researching could wait another day. For now, it was following the trail of destruction, and carnage. After all, Justice would systematically loose a burst of energy straight from the Fade to kill those in front of us, while I would snipe those who remained with Arcane Bolts. It was tiring, but not so much that I could not continue fighting. I recovered the mana quickly enough.

The tunnel led to the cove I remembered from last time, and the layout was the exact same. Thanks to the platform we were on, away from the docks, we technically could just keep along the wall and avoid the darkspawn until we reached the far tunnel, but this had problems. One, it ran the risk of darkspawn crawling up behind us. Two, based on the shouts I heard, we did, in fact, have another general here, no doubt ensuring the darkspawn headed down the proper paths.

"From Kristoff's memories, we must defeat the general to cripple them," Justice murmured, looking over everything. I could only nod. "Aura tasked me with defeating these darkspawn. This is the way Kristoff can find justice." He glanced at his weapons, and then to me. "However, Nathaniel also asked me to protect you."

"...If you can keep them from coming after me, then you will fulfill that," I answered slowly. What was the best way to use our minimal resources? Truthfully, I was not certain. I could only take a guess and keep on walking. "Kill the general and then follow me as soon as you can. They will be disorganized without leadership, a nuisance more than a danger." It was... a terrible understatement, but I hoped it conveyed what I wished well enough.

"Then I shall do so." He nodded, and I... tried to ignore the vertebrae sticking out of his neck. Was he getting worse? I think he was getting worse. We really needed to figure out a way to slow down the rot, if he was to continue using this body. "This day, we shall see justice for all those they have harmed!"

Justice dramatically leapt from platform, slamming into a few with his shield. Immediately, all their attention went to him, some sort of taunt I had seen the more warrior-inclined members of our party use in the past. I did not pay any attention after that. Instead, I snuck along the platform, using what minimal stealth I learned from Zevran and Cleon to minimize any chances of being found. To my complete and utter surprise, it worked. Now, getting through the tunnels themselves was more of a trial than I would have liked, thanks to the 'adult Children' who insisted on trying to claw and maul me. But I soon discovered they could not turn well and if I made it past, they could not turn quickly enough to catch me. I simply had to kill those immediately around the ladder and scramble up before they managed. ...'Simply'. I still had a lot to work on when it came to physical strength and stamina, sadly. But at least I was not nearly as winded as I expected. It was just... almost.

I shut the trap door behind me and sat on it as I caught my breath. It was a danger, to be certain, but I knew I had the time. After all, I was in the back room of one of the hovels outside Amaranthine's gates. I remembered it from when we helped against the smugglers. It was... almost funny how that whim answered so many questions. It only was not because so many similar things happened in our lives.

Once I caught my breath, I stepped out of the hovel, and was immediately pummeled by the rain once more. Of course, the rain had not stopped. If anything, the storm had only grown stronger. So, with a sigh, I looked around, immediately sighting the darkspawn general. It was easy; all the darkspawn yielded to it. Strangely, though, it caught sight of me just as quickly. Even more strangely, it ran. It ran fast. I chased, of course. After all this, I was not letting them get away.

It was not until I reached the end of the path, where the main road split off to head to Amaranthine, that I realized something terrible. If the darkspawn were smart enough to speak and coordinate, they were certainly smart enough to set traps. It was only luck, and a shield, that kept me from dying to the armored ogre trying to ram me into the horizon.

Ogres... we fought many during the Blight. I still remembered that terrible first one, on top of the Tower of Ishal. But, truthfully, by the end of things, they... were not as much of a threat. They were not as terrifying. Even when accompanied by many darkspawn, such as now, they were not. Still, usually, I did not have to face them alone. That made things much more complicated. So, the first thing I did once I recovered from my shock was cast Haste on myself as it turned to face me once more. I had to be quick to avoid being grabbed. If I was grabbed, I was as good as dead, especially considering how little armor I wore. Once I felt the rush of the Haste spell, I darted to the side, putting some distance between it and me. It was not smart to ignore the other darkspawn, and there were quite a few, but, again, I could not let catch me. I had to keep away from every grab, every massive sweep, and every smash. Only when I was certain of my distance did I even try to cast a spell. The best ones for ogres were always ones that kept it pinned. So, I started with my preferred Glyph of Paralysis, which... did not work as long as I would have liked. It lasted long enough for a Crushing Prison, though, and that worked much better. While it struggled, I called down a Lightning Bolt and shot out a Chain Lightning, hoping they would prove a little more effective given the metal armor and the rain pouring down. Sadly, if it did, I did not notice. Worse, I nearly electrocuted myself with my own spells thanks to the puddles. I switched immediately to ice, casting Winter's Grasp and Cone of Cold just as Crushing Prison faded. To my relief, the spikes of the Cone of Cold froze it in place for a half-second longer, just long enough for me to launch a Stonefist at it. To my surprise, that ended up being the crippling, final blow. Not even an ogre's regeneration could fix an imploded skull.

Sagging slightly, I glanced around quickly, noting the other darkspawn lingering, wondering whether or not they wanted to take their chances with a lone Warden. Yet, I... did not see the general. Had it escaped in truth? That would be... annoying. Did I have it in me to chase? I was not certain. But I did see Justice rushing down the path towards me, so perhaps together...

A pulse of magic jolted me from my thoughts, and I whirled to see the darkspawn general had not left. No, this had, instead, been a two-pronged trap. If the armored ogre had killed me, it won, but if it did not, it still had time to cast a powerful spell and launch it while I was still recovering. There was no time to bring up a shield, not even a Shimmering Shield. I noticed too late, reacted too slowly. It would hit me dead on, or it would have if not for one tiny fact: Justice had been near.

Justice had been catching up, just as he had promised me. Justice did not react too slowly. He had been tasked with protecting me, and that was exactly what he did. Sliding in front, shield up, it was the classic 'knight saving the damsel' one saw in stories. But this was no story. In the stories, the spell did not punch a hole through shields. In the stories, the spells did not knock heads clear off. But this one... did both.

...He was dead. He was already dead. I knew this. Yet seeing the body thump to the ground like a ragdoll, rotted head flying a short distance away, was enough to freeze the blood in my veins. Nearby, the darkspawn general laughed, outright laughed, delighting in how it gained a kill. I glared at it, debating on how best to do this. I had to kill it. I had to kill it quickly. Yet I was running lower on mana than I would like, between the tunnels and the ogre. I would have to consider carefully just what to do, how to finish this. But even as I had the thought, I felt a surge of energy that did not come from within. It was a power not from my blood, nor from a convenient bit of lyrium nearby. No, it was a power that was fierce, hard, unyielding, and certain. Yet it similar enough to the power I received from the Spirit of Hope for my Spirit Healing spells that I knew just where this power came from: Justice. Even if he was freed from Kristoff's corpse, he remained trapped on this side of the Veil. Even if he was not, Nathaniel and Aura had given him two tasks: protect me and defeat the darkspawn. So, of course, he would remain near. Of course, he would help me. And with that added strength, I decided... to do something I had only done once before, with Morrigan.

First, I casted 'Spell Might' on myself, a spell I usually avoided. It was rare I needed the boost, but for this particular casting, I did. Then, I casted Blizzard, taking advantage of the darkspawn's laughing to ensure it did not notice until it was too late. After all, a Blizzard froze those within, particularly when everything was so soaked, and that gave me ample time to cast the third and final piece: Tempest. When the lightning bolt fell from the skies, and the lightning whipped into a tornado, I could not help but grin in triumph.

Of course, it was terribly draining and more than a little stupid to cast on the road leading up to a major city. I may have chased until I was away from the houses outside the gates, but it certainly dug massive holes in the earth and destroyed a few fences. A few of the darkspawn tried to escape; I ran around the edges casting Glyphs of Repulsion to keep them trapped inside until the lightning had calmed. Most of the darkspawn within were deader than dead. Annoyingly, the darkspawn general was not one of them. Oh, it was terribly injured, but it still twitched and tried to cast a spell as I approached. It even landed a spell, a Drain Life based on the injuries I suffered. But it did not stop me, and even if the spell healed it enough to stand, that did not stop me from thrusting my rapier through its neck. I twisted for good measure before ripping it out and using what mana I had left to burn the body to ash. Though the fire spell had been more 'burn before it corrupts' mentality and I almost sighed when I thought of how I would need to renew it thanks to the rain. I did not only because... because I realized the rain had stopped. In fact, when I looked up, I saw the clouds slowly parting, as if chased away by the Storm of the Century spell I had cast. The sun... was shining. The sun was shining brilliantly.

I closed my eyes and tilted my head back to enjoy the warmth. It was a little bright, even through my closed eyelids, but I welcomed the respite. I welcomed it even more when I heard cheers in the distance. With the generals dead, the rest of the darkspawn must have been easily routed. If so, then... then Amaranthine was safe at last...

"Layla?" Nathaniel's voice drew my attention back to the ground and I turned to see him limp up. His fingers were raw, bleeding even, but otherwise he seemed fine. I was glad to see it. "Darkspawn are dead," he reported, confirming what I suspected. I simply smiled in relief. "And I see Justice let go of Kristoff's corpse." He stopped right where Kristoff's body had collapsed in a heap. I knew I would have to explain later just what happened, if only to explain why Justice was floating around invisible. This... was going to be more than a little awkward in the days to come. "We can burn him with the other dead."

"Yes, and we should burn them quickly," I whispered, shaking my head. I was tired just thinking about it, until I felt two small bursts of power. One was Justice. The other, I recognized, as the Spirit of Hope with whom I contracted for my Spirit Healing abilities. Did Justice make it easier for her or... was she somehow jealous another Spirit helped me? ...Did Spirits even get jealous? Oh, my mind was still a mess. Still, I welcomed the help. "We should have Wynne check us over before we get back to work."

"Including dealing with the damages." Nathaniel looked around the field where my Storm of the Century had been. In the sunlight, the damages were... much more apparent. "What sort of spell did the darkspawn cast to do this?" Sheepishly, I looked away, wondering just how I would explain... "Wait, hold on, Layla, you did this?"

"No homes were damaged!"

"Yes, but look at the road! No caravan will be able to come anywhere near!"

"I can fix it!"

"How?! Some of the holes are deeper than I am tall!"

"Magic!"

The next few days were going to be rough indeed. I prayed the others were well. I wanted to see them soon.

Chapter Text

Chapter 22) Depths

Aiden POV

Kirkwall is... is. It is. That is the only way she can describe it. It is. It exists. It's another 'new home'. It's another 'new city'. It's another place where she must protect her family. That's what she does, after all. What's the point in making waves? Unless she's prepared to sail, and she's not, then it's best to be calm, quiet. Diplomacy is everything, because that's how she keeps her family safe. And as if in answer, a surge of reassurance fills her head, and she closes her eyes to better feel it. The action, however, catches the attention of her sister, who is admiring the view from Gamlen's roof with her.

"Is all well, Minerva?" Diana asks, leaning forward to study her closely. She opens her eyes and gestures to her head. "Ah, Neriene?" She nods, understanding, because of course she does. After all, she's been bound to a Spirit of Duty for quite some time. It's unexpected, since she's not a mage, but she doesn't hate it. She never has. "Hope she's not mad about Kirkwall. The Veil is thin." And despite being 'bound', Neriene is in the Fade. She's not certain 'what' she would be called, but it's not 'abomination'.

"She's fine," she reassures, and softens when Diana smiles. "You know me. As long as we're together, I'll be fine."

And may the Maker help those who harm her family.

The Dragonbone Wastes... an area nestled between high, foreboding mountains with a harsh and cold wind despite the season… what a shame Lord Nuada wasn't here. I was certain he could give me an encyclopedia entry about the place. As it was, the entire place felt like a graveyard and I think I hated it almost as much as I hated the Blackmarsh.

"Anders, you know anything about this place?" I asked, mostly to hear something. Everything about this place was eerie, with a silence so loud I couldn't hear myself think. "Besides it being suitable creepy for its name."

"I think I read that legends state this is where dragons would come to die," Anders replied after a moment, keeping close. He summoned a wisp of light to make traversing easier. I couldn't decide if it made the place creepier or not. Yay for more light, but more light meant more shadows. "And something about Tevinter building atop their bones?"

"Then the 'Drake's Fall' the Messenger mentioned must be the ruin." Seems I was right about this place being a graveyard, but what sort of idiot built on top of bones? ...Then again, most of the ground was once someone's corpse, so you could make an argument... stopping the thought there.

Instead, we started down the path, expecting to be ambushed within two steps. Instead, we encountered nothing. Nothing but corpses, at least. Fresh and still leaking blood, most of them were on the sides, hidden by random rocks or broken shrubs or bleached bones. Because some of the things I'd thought were rocks were actually bones. The creepy atmosphere was further enhanced by the fact that between the corpses, blocked paths, and randomly shattered statues, there was one path.

This felt like a trap. Was it a mistake to trust the Messenger? I didn't know. I couldn't, not until we made it. I just had to hope. And Maker's balls, I hated it.

"I feel like I'm walking to my Harrowing again," Anders grumbled next to me, shying away from a shriek corpse impaled on a nearby root. Wasn't sure where the root came from. It was too 'alive' for the trees here. "Just slightly less death and rot."

"Only slightly?" I asked dryly, gladly seizing the conversation. But if this was what 'Harrowings' felt like, then I supposed they were accurately named. "I suppose there's more of that..." I trailed off, shaking my head even before I caught his wince. "You don't need my dark humor at the moment."

"Oh, I don't know. This place feels very suiting for gallows humor."

"Even gallows humor is supposed to be amusing." Instead, I only reminded him of how everything fell apart while he was away. A feeling I knew well. "So, random change in subject. What spirit are you contracted with?"

"Hmm?"

"That's what Spirit Healers do, right? They make a contract with spirits to gain access to powerful healing? Swear that's what Wynne told me, once." Wasn't certain how it was different from making deals with demons for blood magic, but then again, I wasn't a mage. "Or is it rude to ask?"

"It's not, but most don't. After all, the templars don't exactly look kindly on Spirit Healers, since we skirt the boundaries of 'acceptable'. It's ignored due to how useful it is." Oh, well, maybe it wasn't all that different after all. "But between that and the rigorous selection process to even be considered... there aren't many and few want to remind the Templars of the 'barely acceptable' nature by asking about spirits." Then how did I know three? "Ah, but I think I've gone on a tangent. What was the question again?"

"I asked what spirit you draw your strength from. I know Wynne is bound to a Spirit of Faith." In more than one sense of the word. "Meanwhile, Mistress Layla made a contract with a Spirit of Hope."

"'Made' a contract makes it sound…" Anders trailed off, thinking over his words and pointedly ignoring the corpse of a genlock by his feet. "What do you know about how Spirit Healers make their contracts?"

"Assume nothing, because I'm recalling nothing."

"It's pretty varied anyway. Some catch the eyes of Spirits and so, they slowly earn their trust through sheer charisma, like how you'd put food out for a cat. Wynne says hers was like that. Mine…" He chuckled. "The Spirit of Compassion I'm bound to actually quizzed me. It gave me about… oh… fifty random scenarios and asked what I'd do to determine if my intentions were good."

"What kept you from lying?"

"Spirits of Compassion are particularly sensitive to lies. Very little is able to escape their gazes, since they are incredibly in tune with a person's emotions. Though, they can sometimes misunderstand what they read, since they don't understand metaphors. My sarcasm really confused mine, but it could sense what I was actually feeling. As for Layla…" He sighed heavily. "Layla was a rare case."

"I'm strangely unsurprised." A glint caught my eye, and I looked to see an armored ogre all but devoured by roots. What killed an ogre? And how was it not regenerating? Were the roots eating it?! "And I'm guessing you mean besides Spirits of Hope being rare."

"Got it in one." Anders moved his globe of light towards a rock formation, revealing another batch of darkspawn corpses hiding in the shadows. "So, picture this. Wynne took Layla and me to the Fade for Spirit Healer lessons. I was already contracted, so I was mostly there for morale support and so she could randomly quiz me under the pretense of teaching Layla. And then, in the middle of Wynne telling Layla that sometimes, aspiring Spirit Healers don't catch the attention of any spirits and that's totally fine and it doesn't mean anything about them as a person…"

"The Spirit of Hope arrived and wanted to test Layla?"

"No, worse and better." He laughed at the memory, though it had a somber note as we passed even more corpses. In the distance, I thought I could hear something rumble and growl. "A Spirit of Hope did appear and wrapped its arms around Layla. And went 'my mage'."

"...It claimed Layla?"

"Yes, and since there was nothing anyone could do to dissuade it, that's how Layla became a Spirit Healer on her first day of class." He shrugged off my incredulous look. "There's records of such things in the past, of course, but it certainly caused a stir among the Senior Enchanters."

"That so?" Why would a spirit...? Then again, I knew next to nothing about spirits. Maybe they thought of mortals like cats waiting to be claimed. "Interesting."

"Do you want to hear why the spells are so much stronger next?"

Though I would admit, if only to myself, that I didn't actually care, I almost agreed simply so we could keep up the conversation and I wouldn't have to deal with the silence. But, as usual, life had other plots. A bone-rattling screech cracked through the narrow valley, and I was sprinting down the path. Anders scrambled to keep up, probably saying some quip about how you should really run away from things screaming loudly. However, I was a Warden, and therefore, I was stupid and leapt into potential danger.

Had to say, though, that I didn't expect to round the corner and see the source was the dying screams of a dragon as Cleon and Velanna killed it. Unable to do anything but stare dumbly, I watched Cleon slide off the dragon's neck like it was a banister, and land lightly next to Velanna. Then it was his turn to stare, because he happened to see me standing like an idiot. Not even Anders literally running into me broke the awkward sense of 'what in the Void are you doing here?'

"Well, this explains the corpses," I finally deadpanned, signing the words slowly. Cleon closed his eyes and promptly stormed off to sulk. Brood. Whichever. It involved crouching and glaring at the dirt. "Er…"

"How did you know to come here?" Velanna asked, frowning heavily. Sweat dripped down her face, and her breath was a little ragged. "We…"

"Messenger from the Architect informed us of the attack, so we came here. I heard the Vigil…"

"Nuada had us track." Ah, that explained it then. Lord Nuada wouldn't have known we'd get convenient help, and set us up for victory, even if the Vigil… "We should've…"

"No, you did well." The Vigil would be fine. Lord Nuada would be fine. I had faith in him and those left behind. ...I had to. "Mind, I wish you were a little less efficient at killing things so we could've helped you with the dragon."

"It wasn't hard. Think it was protesting the darkspawn disturbing its death throes." Velanna pointed to the dragon's side, where the skin was sagging. A closer look showed many old scars and nicks littering its scales, and snapped horns. "Honestly, the tracking took more out of us."

"I think I'll be the judge of that," Anders noted dryly, recovered at last from the mood whiplash. He promptly snagged Velanna by the arm and dragged her to a nearby rock. "You're the one who went about the woods with so much anger roiling inside you that I thought you were going to have an apoplexy."

Velanna, of course, squawked some sort of protest. She wouldn't be 'Velanna' if she didn't. But Anders ignored her easily and started his examination, so I went to Cleon to check on him. He looked up as I approached, catching the movement out of the corner of his eye.

'Are you well?' I signed, deciding to keep this private. He closed his eyes and nodded slowly, but since I didn't fully believe him, I nudged him until he gave me a dirty look. 'Cleon…'

'Lethallin, I am fine,' he signed back. He pushed himself up and ran a hand through his hair before continuing. 'Running merely brought back memories.' It didn't take me long to realize what memories he meant and I winced. 'So now, I am annoyed that we planned for a lack of help and somehow got it anyway.' To be fair, when did anyone help? 'And I wish even more that we had someone known so I could help Nuada and the others. It was not as many as a Blight, but...' He shrugged and I winced. Still, we built the Vigil back up, so it... it would have to be fine. 'Where is Layla?'

'Amaranthine was under siege too. Mistress Layla remained behind to lead the defenses while Anders and I snuck out.' Just like…

'Those two are so married.' It was funny they made the exact same decision. Once this was over, we would tease them silly. 'Well, what is done is done. You got any stamina draughts? Lyrium? We need both.'

"Yes, we do," I answered aloud, pulling some from my pack. Cleon snatched a stamina one out of my hand and downed it in a gulp. "Anders is at full strength, and so am I. Let's wait until you two have caught your breaths before entering."

He nodded and held his hand out for a second. I passed it over and stepped away to give him space and to keep watch. My attention, however, went to the sprawling array of looming, crumbling towers before us, and I could not help but wonder what we would find within. Then I scoffed, because I knew exactly what it would be: complications, trouble, and things the other Wardens were going to want to kill us for. Again.

But perhaps it would also have an ending for the current mess, so I'd take it.

Stairs, crumbling walls, more stairs, and the lovely flesh moss I associated with the Deep Roads... that was what greeted us when we finally stepped inside. Based on the description, I decided it was a slightly messier version of the Tower at Ostagar. Even better? We barely managed two steps before someone stepped out of the shadows to greet us.

"Andaran atish'an, everyone," Seranni greeted, smiling softly. She still wore the ill-fitting armor from before, but she didn't seem nearly as hesitant as she did in the mines. "And I'm glad to see you are well, sister."

"Seranni?" Velanna gasped, her face lighting up with a smile as she rushed over to her sister. I, however, studied Seranni's complexion, comparing it to the last time I saw her, and decided she had to be Tainted and was a ghoul. But that in itself was strange, since darkspawn usually turned women into Broodmothers. "Oh, thank Mythal, you're still alive!" Yet Seranni showed no signs of trauma or the like as she smiled at Velanna. Certainly, she wasn't as bad off as Hespith had been. "What has that darkspawn done to you? Why are you with them?" And she wasn't like Adria either, ready to attack us. It was almost like she was a Warden, yet…

"Sister, I'm fine." Seranni's smile was sweet. "The Architect is very kind to me." Well, that much was obvious. "As for why I'm with him, he's told me his plan." Oh, wonderful, there was a plan lurking in the chaos. "You see; the darkspawn are just like us." …If this had been six or seven months ago, I might've called bullshit. But the Messenger… "The Architect has freed them, and they're searching for a place in this world, much like the Dalish." I had to glance at Cleon at that, and he was staring hard at my hands, as if making sure I'd signed what he thought I'd signed. I repeated the sentence to make sure I didn't make a mistake, and he pinched the bridge of his nose in a clear headache. "Everything he's done, it's been to protect his people. Surely you can understand that, sister?" Yeah, but that doesn't mean everything is sunshine and rainbows. People did a lot of horrible things in the name of 'protection'.

"Seranni, what are you saying?" Velanna's words were a hiss, and I tried to think of how to convey that to Cleon. Cleon waved away the attempt and snagged Anders to go scout around. Right, we couldn't ignore the possibility that Seranni was only here to be a distraction while others ambushed. "They killed our friends and so many others! Do you not remember?!"

"No, I do. And it hurts. But…" Seranni rested a hand over her heart. "That's why I must help. They're like children, come into the world with no concept of 'good' or 'bad' or 'fair'." Most children weren't capable of slaughtering everyone in their path, or leaving behind wastelands where nothing would even rot. …But the Messenger… "They have a bestial nature, yes, but I've seen them overcome it. They need to be shown how, because they don't know another way." She stepped back and pointed to the staircase. "The Architect is waiting for you. Here I'll show you the way before I return to my work."

Velanna, of course, followed Seranni immediately. I, however, lingered back, and so did Cleon and Anders. "Chances of an ambush?" I asked softly, adding a false sense of lightness to my signs so Cleon knew I was being sarcastic. Cleon ducked his head to hide a smile, and that told me they'd found no signs here. Couldn't decide if that increased or decreased our chances. "Because I feel like following someone on a treacherous staircase is begging for one."

"Oh, wait, not just me?" Anders asked dryly, trying to sign along. "And here I thought treacherous staircases were always filled with…" Cleon frowned at one of the signs, and I used an alternative. "Damn, got one wrong?"

"You used a sign more for 'traitorous'. Which, I mean, could potentially describe Seranni." I sighed heavily and checked that I could pull my greatsword off my back easily. "But we can't leave Velanna alone."

"No, we can't. Who else is going to bite my head off for friendly conversation?" He fell silent for a moment. "But, for what it's worth, I don't think Seranni, at least, is lying." I gave me a skeptical look, and he shrugged in response. "Remember what I said about how it was hard to lie to a Spirit of Compassion? My Empathy can give me an easier feel for the same reason."

"So, she isn't lying." But was the Architect? I suppose there's only one way to find out. "We're blaming Velanna if this goes wrong." We wouldn't actually, but I could at least joke about being that petty.

With a 'plan' set, the three of us hurried to catch up with Velanna and Seranni. It didn't take long and, honestly, I wasn't certain the two even noticed our absence, chatting as they were about the past. I didn't pay attention, more focused on our surroundings, but to my surprise, the trip down was uneventful. I could almost call it 'unsettling', but found it hard to say why.

At least, until Cleon nudged me and signed, 'corpses are in the crevices.' He pointed to the remnants of something so mangled I could only tell it had once been a darkspawn because of the lingering Taint. 'There's copious ash as well, too much for a ruin.'

'You are certain?' I signed in return, paying closer attention. He was right; there was the hint of char in the air, and I could see the scorch marks on the walls. 'Magic?'

'Powerful magic. More powerful than anything we had faced thus far.' Cleon's face was grim. 'And worse, the skill to use it well. I almost did not notice the ash.' Well, that made me feel less blind. Cleon's observation skills have always been better than mine.

'Thankfully, I have templar tricks.' The smell of rot hit my nose, and I looked over the edge to see a small pile of Children corpses, half charred and half frozen. 'If this turns deadly, I will be counting on you.'

Cleon nodded, and let the matter drop. He and I continued to follow in silence, though Anders had joined Seranni and Velanna's conversation, mostly by sharing his own tales of camping, to Velanna's annoyance and Seranni's laughter. But soon, we reached the bottom of the winding staircase, an open area filled with rubble. Broken balconies lined the walls and showed the clouded skies outside, and another door on the far end was shut tight. One could almost call it suspicious, but I chose against mentioning it. This was partly because Seranni slipped away as we were busy looking around, and partly because…

"And so we meet again." Because a voice I knew vaguely, half-hiding in the cloying shadows of exhaustion and dreams, caught my ear and attention. Especially when I recognized the darkspawn who floated down dramatically from one of the broken balconies. "I owe you an apology," the Architect continued, landing lightly. At least, I assumed he was the Architect. Who else could he be? "When last we met, I intended to explain myself." Nearby was the Warden I remembered from before, though I decided she did not resemble a genlock nearly as much when I wasn't drugged and mentally out of sorts. "Fate, however, intervened."

"You are very poor at your invitations," I retorted dryly, signaling Cleon to just let me handle the talking. Anders and Velanna lingered back, eyeing the darkspawn warily. They recognized him too, after all. "If you wanted to talk, you should have invited us for tea and crumpets."

"...What is tea?" Note to self: the Architect could talk, but did not understand sarcasm.

"It's a fancy drink." I sighed heavily, shaking my head. "Regardless, though, invitations to talks normally do not involve sleep spells, drugging, or restraints. I save the…" I was about to be sarcastic again, but let it die. Partly because he wouldn't understand, and partly because I really missed Zevran. Hopefully, I could see him soon.

"I restrained you only to prevent the misunderstanding that occurred with the rest of your Order. Alas, it seems it only created more." He nodded to himself, like he was making his own mental notes. "Perhaps that is why I failed to anticipate your people viewing the Withered's approach as an attack."

"The Withered?" I frowned, trying to think of if I knew that one. Failing that, I focused on the event. "...You mean the one who slaughtered everyone in the Vigil to capture us?"

"Utha warned my word choice for the order was poor. I had sought to parley, to ask for you aid." And somehow, this Withered interpreted it as 'kill everyone but the Warden Commander and then parley?'? Seranni was right; they were like children. "I am rarely able to fully judge how your kind will react. It was most… unfortunate."

"That's an understatement." I'd be more irritated if not for the… he was honest. That much, at least, I could tell. He was honest, laying all his cards on the table. And it still might not have been enough, but I kept remembering the Messenger he sent. The one who chose to come despite knowing they would die, because they chose to no longer cause pain. And the Messenger chose the Architect. So… "Well, we're here now." There was some sort of scuffling behind me, but I didn't look. I knew Cleon would handle it. "Let's talk. I saw your notes. 'Blood' was mentioned a lot."

"Yes, I took blood from you, as well as the dead Wardens who were brought to me." Well, this explained why we had missing Wardens.

"Not the best way to open up talks, but I'll admit to setting myself up for it."

"If you still wish to slay me after this, you are free to try." …From anyone else, I'd call that 'arrogance'. And the fact that I even had the thought probably showed my own. But from him, and that easy way he spoke… I had a feeling it was no empty boast. Especially when I remembered from Cleon had said. Someone killed those darkspawn, and it was not Seranni or the silent dwarf watching us closely. Unless dwarves someone gained magic when the Taint progressed. "My kind has ever been driven to seek out the Old Gods. This is our nature. And once one is found, a Blight begins." Yes, I was aware of this basic information. "Each time, we attack your surface lands. Each time, you fight back until we are defeated."

"To say nothing of how the dwarves continuously fight you."

"Indeed, they do, as we seek the song. A cycle which never ends… the compulsion must be broken if there is to ever be a chance. For that, I need the blood of Grey Wardens." …Wait.

"For clarification…" A strange feeling settled into my stomach. I couldn't describe it, but it was some combination of 'incredulity' and 'why is my life like this?'. It only increased when Cleon slipped to my side and frowned at my hands, like he wasn't certain he was reading them correctly. "You're trying to stop the Blights?"

"Yes." Simple answer. Not so simple implications. "Hundreds of thousands of my kind are killed before each Blight is ended. It is a plague on our race." And speaking of not-so-simple implications, the fact that we were even having this conversation had implications on the 'reasoning' behind how the Archdemon could die. Random thought, yes, but one I unfortunately had. "We do not begin a Blight because we crave power or destruction. We obey the call of the Old Gods, without choice." Could something without a soul… argh, I missed when my life was simple. I really did.

"And Warden blood somehow breaks it."

"Is it a surprise? Are you not able to resist the song, despite taking in the blood of my kind to transform?" Now that he mentioned it… "My companion, Utha, is a former Warden." He gestured to the dwarf in the shadows, who nodded curtly at us. "Thanks to her, I was able to create a version of your Joining, utilizing the blood of Wardens instead of my kind. Through that, we too can transform. Yours takes the Taint into yourself, while mine takes your resistance."

"So, that's why there's so many talking darkspawn suddenly." All the Wardens who died at Ostagar… "And without the song ringing in your heads, you can think."

"And we can choose, though choice can be frightening to those who have never seen it." Hence Seranni's words. "As you have seen, though, some are ruled by that terror. They rage against me for giving them that choice. The Mother is one, and she has gathered others."

"Well, the Mother sounds like a Broodmother, which means she's not a 'darkspawn' at all, technically, but a highly specialized ghoul much like…" Rambled that off without thinking, mostly to get my head wrapped around things. The Architect seemed intrigued, though. "What?"

"I had thought freeing a Broodmother from the song would stop the instinctual creation of our kind. Utha warned it might be complicated."

"You should listen to her more." I said the words dryly, and got a hint of a smile from Utha. Why was she so silent?

"I do my best. Because I am so separate, it can be difficult for me to understand your kind. She was the one who explained why so many disliked my original plan, to force a Joining onto all of Thedas." ...Yeah, no. Just. No. "If sacrificing hundreds saves thousands, I do not see the issue. More are saved than lost." Technically? "But Utha explained how even Wardens, who are willing to do whatever it takes, would show hesitancy."

"To say nothing of the whole 'reduced fertility' and 'the Blight is more than a little corrosive'." Though, now I had a thought. If the Blight reduced fertility, how did Broodmothers make so many? Not the time. Really not the time. But I think I could be forgiven for scattered thoughts given I was having the strangest conversation in my life. And I'd talked to a corpse. Oh, fine, a demon wearing a corpse. Same difference. "Just how many have you 'freed'?"

"Not many. But unfortunately, she has influence over the ones that have not been freed." Why was that? I remembered the darkspawn gathering around the Broodmother we'd fought in the Deep Roads. Was that just a 'trait' Broodmothers had? Mimicking the song of the Old Gods? Could something else also mimic it? "But I do not seek to rule my brethren. Only free them and find a way to stop us from dying in thousands."

"Right..." Grand goals, I suppose? And it would be strange for a darkspawn to be ambitious. Not that trying to end the Blights wasn't already... my thoughts were tangling in knots. "And how exactly did you become 'free'?"

"I do not know." The words were hesitant, but I could not read a single expression on his face. "I have lived long, and my memory is hazy." It was hard to tell if he was lying or telling the truth. "Perhaps I was born as I am, an outsider among my own." He managed a shrug, though the movement was awkward. Had I seen a darkspawn shrug before? "Why are only some of your kind able to become Wardens? Why are only some born with magic? To me, the answer is just as nebulous."

"I see." Wasn't magic hereditary? But that first one about why only some... yes, that was a mystery for the ages. Perhaps through him, we could...

As I struggled to think of more questions to ask, Utha stepped out of the shadows and yanked sharply on the Architect's arm. When he looked down, she signed something, and my eyes narrowed as I recognized some of the signs she used. Not all, of course. But some, because they were Warrior Caste Orzammar signs. 'Tell' and 'truth', for instance, and that made me frown. Had this all been a lie?

"If you believe it is important, Utha, then I shall," the Architect said aloud, nodding slowly. He then returned his attention to me. "Utha says I should inform you of another failure of mine."

"Another failure?" I repeated dryly, brow raised. I was assuming 'the Mother' was one. "What is it?" Even as I asked, I remembered another thing I'd read in his notes. A line that stood out even now. "Not killing something?"

"Ah, you read my notes extensively, if you caught that errant thought." He almost seemed pleased. "But yes, I should have killed the Archdemon while it slept, instead of attempting my 'Joining'."

"You attempted the...?" At first, I didn't know what he meant. How could you 'free' an Old God from its own song? But then I understood. I understood what he'd tried, and what he'd done. "You...!" His 'Joining'... it woke the Archdemon. It started the Blight. He started the Fifth Blight!

At that revelation, rage flooded me, replaced all the blood in my veins. I was not ashamed to admit that. Next to me, I saw Cleon bristle, white hot hatred flashing in his eyes as his hands instinctively fell to his daggers. But, like me, that initial rage, hatred… it cooled quickly. Why? It was simple. It wouldn't change anything.

It was understandable, of course. It was healthy. But what would it change? Nothing. He made his choice, and we suffered the consequences. We made our choices, and everyone suffered. And we… we were shattered beyond repair, left picking up the pieces. We'd spent… we'd spent too much time trying to find the good as we gouged ourselves on the remnants of what we used to be for me to act on that understandable rage.

Would I forgive? Never. But I would not let anger rule me, no matter how much I wanted to see if I could punch his head off for shattering me in the first place.

"You'll have to forgive me for not wanting to trust you," I whispered at last. The Architect nodded, expecting such. "But I can… I can at least trust your intentions."

"My… intentions?" the Architect repeated, a note of surprise threading into his tired voice. I wished I could see his eyes; I wondered if they'd show the same. But that mask hid all. "What do you mean by this?"

"Whenever you make a choice, something happens. Good, bad, unexpected… whatever it is. Maker's balls, it'll be ten or twenty years before we see the full consequences of what we did here during this Blight. But that's fine. We keep going forward. That's all." I did my best to meet his gaze. "I met your Messenger. It had faith in you. So, I will trust your intentions, even if I will never trust you to ever do your work without supervision." Honestly, he wasn't any worse than Avernus. "So, we have an accord. For now. And I trust you'll show your sincerity by assisting us with the Mother?"

"Yes." I almost thought he smiled. "Thank you, Warden-Commander."

"Give me and mine a moment to check our weapons." And recover from this conversation. "I'll let you know when we're ready."

The Architect nodded and stepped back, conversing with a surprisingly happy Utha. I turned away, just needing to breathe. Cleon walked away, needing his own time, so I headed over to Anders and Velanna to check on them. And, unfortunately, did not get the quiet I needed, but that was my own fault.

"Are you certain about this?" Anders hissed, eyes narrowing as I drew close. He'd crossed his arms, digging his fingers into his forearms. "For one thing, I like my blood where it is. In my veins."

"Isn't a little blood worth it, though? To stop the Blights?" Velanna immediately retorted, a slight if incredulous smile on her face. Apparently, she didn't share anyone's misgivings. "This is what my sister saw!" I wondered if she'd be so enthused if Seranni hadn't voiced her own support. As it was, she shrugged off Anders's skeptical look. "Besides, you don't have to donate. Seems like he at least understands consent. Unless you die and can no longer protest."

"Great." Anders's response was perfectly dry. "But here's my question. What if he's wrong?" There was no response. Even Velanna could only grimace. After all, this was a gamble. This was a very big gamble. "What if this doesn't stop the Blights? He's already started one."

"Yes, he has," I whispered, careful to acknowledge it. Anders's concern, after all, was incredibly valid. And if I had to be honest, trusting one's intentions could only go so far, especially when dealing with someone whose sense of morality was so different. "But Anders..." I smiled awkwardly as both he and Velanna turned to me. "For centuries, there's only been one path. What if there's another, better way? I fought this Blight, and my group broke turning it into a miracle. Fereldan will be recovering heavily for the next decade or more. There's portions of Thedas that have never recovered." I glanced over my shoulder, making sure the Architect and Utha weren't listening. Then again, I had a feeling the Architect wouldn't mind what I said. "I can always try to kill him later." But, again, I had the strangest feeling that 'try' would be all I could do. "So, for now, I want to see. I want to see if there truly is another way, a way that does not lead to so much destruction. Can you at least accept that answer?"

"While I still can't say I like it, I've trusted you this far, and you're right in that we can always change our minds later," Anders reluctantly agreed, sighing heavily. I was relieved, since clashing opinions right before a battle would not... well, it would be bad. "Just can't help but worry about the potential consequences. I mean; what will the others think?"

"Justice is going to be angry, and I'm sure Sigrun will be too." All the more because they didn't know me well. "I think I can convince at least Sigrun." Justice… if I could word it properly, he might approve. If. "Nathanial's pragmatic, so I don't think he'll care. Oghren will probably approve, actually." After all, this gamble had a good chance of keeping the darkspawn away from Orzammar. "It'll be fine. Leave them to me." Or Nuada. Nuada was very good at bullshitting. "Regardless, check your things and enjoy the breather. I highly doubt the Mother will be willing to talk."

They took the easy dismissal and stepped away, conversing among themselves about spells and potential strategies. I took the opportunity to drift over to Cleon, who glared at the door shut tight. He glanced at me when I approached, though, and signed, 'that Architect muddled with the sense, but there is definitely one below, through the door.'

'No wonder it is shut, then,' I signed back, standing next to him. Now that I looked closely, I could see where some of the lovely flesh moss had been scraped away, and that the 'door' wasn't fully attached, but sealed with magic. They must've cleaned the area prior to our arrival. 'Cleon?'

'I do not disagree with your choice, and I do not think Nuada and Layla will either.' I didn't think so either, but I was relieved to hear he thought the same. 'We simply have to watch our gamble closely. And figure out what they intend to do about the Blight's corruption. That, more than anything, is what prevents peaceful coexistence.' One thing at a time, even if he was very correct. 'With that said, I might try to punch him later. After explaining to that…' He snagged my hand to spell out Utha's name. 'Explain to her that it is not meant as an attack.'

'Merely an expression of the anger and frustration we both feel.' Because we were still angry. We'd never forgive him. But when we were about to face an unknown enemy… it was better to have more allies rather than less. And I meant what I said to Anders. We only had one way to deal with the Blights and darkspawn. What if we had another? Another that did not require a sacrifice? 'You going to let me take the final blow this time?' But that was all for later. Right now, I wanted to joke around.

'Maybe.' He grinned, visibly gladdened to tease me. 'You can be incredibly slow.'

'That did not require three repeats!' I scowled, but his grin only widened. 'Fine, fine…' Feeling a little lighter, we returned our attention to the 'door'. 'One more breather… and then…'

'Into the depths of whatever depraved nonsense rot below.'

Did he have to word it like that?

Chapter Text

Chapter 23) Siege

Kirkwall... it’s a thrice-damned nightmare. Screw it! Screw it, screw the Chantry, and especially screw the Templars! Why should she have to hide because they’re too scared of the unknown? Why should her baby sister, her little princess, have cower in fear because of something she was born with? Why should her irritated mabari of a little brother have to keep his head down instead of shine, so he doesn’t draw attention? Oh, she remembers the warnings. ‘Attention is bad’, because if anyone knew her family had mages outside their precious little Circle, they’d kill them all! It almost happened back in Lothering, when she chose to burn someone who was getting a little too handsy with her older sister! (Thank the Maker that Ser Bryant was kind and didn’t look for her hard. That let her sneak back in the evenings to stay with her family. Such a good man had no business being a Templar.)

“Ha... Vesta, settle down...” Speaking of said older sister, she was watching her closely, with tired eyes, in the too small room the two of them shared with Diana. “Please, I don’t need another argument,” Minerva whispers, tone even and gentle. Because that’s how she was. Minerva was the calm one, the peacekeeper, and that meant she was too inclined to let people walk over her or get involved when people started squabbling. It was what sparked her latest fit of pique. 

“I should set the whole city on fire,” she grumbles, but she forces herself to calm down. Tries to, at least. She’s always been an aggressive, argumentative little thing though, so it’s hard. That’s why she’d been the one to throw fire, despite Minerva being able to kill with a punch. No one messes with her family, after all. “That would make it easier on all of us.”

“You think too short-term, silly.” But Minerva smiles, because she sees the affection behind the words and trusts she won’t act on them. And she’s right, because no matter how eager she is for a fight, she didn’t want to drag others into it. “Can you cook tonight, though? Mother is...”

“You got it~!” 

As predicted, the main bulk of the darkspawn army hit us within a day of Cleon and Velanna leaving. There had been no time to send for aid, so we stood alone against a horde many times larger than our forces. It was almost hilarious just how outnumbered we were, to say nothing of our minimal preparations for a siege. Yet, despite it all, here we were, a week later, still holding strong. That alone was a miracle.

“Voldrik has an eye for quality and a mind for efficiency,” I reported, carefully brushing Anora’s hair section by section. While I oversaw our defenses, Anora was responsible for our civilian refugees. As such, we did our best to share information, meeting the rare times we could and utilizing Varel as a messenger the rest of the time since we were both too busy. “The gate he installed has held fast, despite all the darkspawn’s best attempts.” Of course, those meetings were usually a handful of minutes, but Varel had all but thrown me out of my office earlier, claiming I needed to rest. Though we both knew I couldn’t afford such a luxury, I’d chosen to humor him and at least do an activity to stop my mind from spinning. “It’s the same with the walls. We might need to get some experts into the Wending Wood to fully assess the granite there, as the walls have endured even ogres throwing boulders.”

“High praise indeed,” Anora murmured, sitting with deceptively perfect posture. We were in her room, and she sat at her vanity while I worked. I knew she was leaning more against the back of the chair than she usually would, though. “What of below? Your last report mentioned scratching against the barrier doors.”

“Yes, but our guard there informed us that the noise ceased late yesterday. As such, I believe we do not have to worry about the darkspawn sneaking up from beneath again.” I’d keep a guard just in case, of course, since we could afford it.

“That should help calm the civilians, then.” Anora tapped her cheek as she thought, her mind spinning with what tidbits she’d reveal and when. Too much information was just as bad as too little when dealing with people trapped within stone walls and an enemy army. “How fare our soldiers? Last I heard, there were skirmishes against those darkspawn who chose to scale the walls.”

“They’re fine. As usual, Wade delivers quality and quantity both.” I paused to focus on a particularly bad tangle; she hadn’t been brushing it herself in light of everything. “The silverite armor and weapons he’s made for the soldiers here are holding well. Very few are broken, and Wade has been fixing things quickly.”

“Has he now?” Her voice went dry. “And how much will it cost?”

“Herren tried to talk prices, but I reminded him that if we fall, he and Wade would die with the rest of us. He promptly shut up after that and turned his efforts towards keeping Wade focused.”

“I wish I could’ve seen his face.” She chuckled, smiling, but soon, that faded. “Still, with our numbers...”

“I can make it work.”

“I know. You’re a Cousland, after all. You always make it work.” This time, her laugh was a little bitter and I could only shrug. It was true, after all. “What about the messenger you planned? Did they...”

“They at least successfully snuck past, and our scouts on the wall noted they had cleared the enemy line.” Whether or not they’d make it to Eddelbrek and the other nobles, however, remained to be seen. But that gamble was our only chance at reinforcements. “Ah, but here I am boring you. It’s your turn now. How are the civilians?”

“Terrified, but hopeful.” I didn’t even bother to reply; I just gave her a skeptical look via the mirror. “Don’t forget that you’re a hero, Nuada. People remember you were the strategist during the Siege of Denerim.”

“We had very different circumstances then.” The skepticism faded for exasperation. “But I’ve a feeling a certain someone is leaning hard into the hero worship.”

“It keeps them from panicking.” Damn that she was right. “As for supplies, we’re fine. Thanks to you all clearing the Pilgrim’s Path and inviting merchants to trade, we had a surplus. We could probably hold out for another month, more if we strictly ration.” And that was the end of it, since her reports were usually short. She wouldn’t share with me the grievances and petty arguments she had to resolve, because she knew I couldn’t afford to know. “Nuada?”

“Yes?”

“When did you last sleep?”

“I imagine my answer matches the one you’d give if I asked the same.”

“Of course you wriggle out of it.” She sighed heavily and focused on her reflection. I wondered what she saw. I still didn’t recognize the person I saw in the mirror. Was it the same for her? “Ha… the last time…”

“Hmm?”

“The last time someone besides a maid did my hair…” A split-second of grief crossed her face. “It was before Ostagar.”

“That’s right. Cailan adored playing with your hair.” He had since we were young. I still remembered how, whenever he visited Highever or we visited Denerim, he’d ask Elspeth and me if he could practice a specific kind of braid with our hair. We’d always agree, if only to spend time with him, and inevitably, the next banquet, Anora’s hair was braided the same way. “I was always surprised you let him.”

“You know how earnest he was. That first time, I figured I’d humor him and then fix it later, but he was surprisingly skilled. I knew he had to practice a great deal each time.” She closed her eyes and leaned back in the chair, forgoing the illusion of poise. “That last day… despite how early the hour was, and despite us arguing the night before, he insisted on doing my hair. ‘Who knows when I will next get a chance?’ he had joked, pleading.”

“I doubt he had to plead for long.”

“No, he didn’t. Truthfully, it was my favorite part of getting ready. I wish I had told him that.” She opened her eyes again and caught mine in the mirror. “Do you think he knew? And that was why he insisted?”

“It could be. However…” Finished with my brushing, I deftly braided her hair back and tied it off. There wasn’t time for anything fancy, sadly. “I think it was his favorite part of the day too.” The man actively researched different hairstyles for it, after all.

“I hope so.” She smiled faintly, but it faded when we heard the clanging of the bells outside her window. “The alarms...”

“So, the walls are finally starting to buckle.” I stepped around her chair and offered her a hand to help her up. She took it, as she usually did with me. “It’s just the warning. They will not be on us yet.” But how long was the question? My guess was ‘a day’. 

“Maric once told me that it’s always darkest before the dawn.” That certainly sounded like something he’d say. “Father would roll his eyes, but never refute it.” That also sounded like Loghain. “Nuada.” She turned and hesitated before gently touching my face, right where there was a faded scar. It was the scar I had gotten protecting Cailan ages ago. “Don’t die. I’d rather not see sweet Layla be a widow before she is even married.”

“Must you tease?” I rolled my eyes, and she managed a smile. It was... it was the first time since the Blight that things felt as they used to, where she was my stern ‘older sister’ and I was the rapscallion of a ‘younger brother’. “Alack, alay! Woe is me that you send me off with such words instead of words of encouragement!”

“The only thing I need to encourage is someone checking you for a head injury.” Her smile widened, but faded when she looked out the window. It didn’t have a good view of the battlefield, but we could see enough. There were more soldiers on the walls, desperate to buy us even a few seconds more time. “I’ll remain with the civilians.” 

“Try to keep them from panicking. For better or for worse, this will be over soon.”

But how would it end? I honestly didn’t know. I wasn’t one to pray, but right now, I at least wished Layla was here to say a prayer in my place. But the Maker didn’t give miracles; I just had to hope I could make one. 

It turned out I was wrong. We had two whole days before the gates crumbled. Of course, now that they no longer had to throw their boulders at the walls, the ogres were all-too-happy to throw them into the courtyards. Sometimes, they even got creative and decided to throw flaming boulders. 

“I swear; Layla is going to kill me if I end up losing my other eye to shrapnel,” I muttered, wiping the mud off my face. The latest projectile exploded right in front of me and sent me sprawling. “Oh, what glories I see, being a Warden. Uncle Duncan should’ve included ‘be thrown like a ragdoll’ in his recruitment spiels.” A nearby soldier glanced at me curiously, but I shook my head. “Don’t mind me. Are our own preparations ready?”

“Yes, Warden-Teryn!” the soldier replied, saluting smartly. It was strange; from what I could see, he was older than me. But here I was, commanding him. “But...”

“Yes?” I smiled when they hesitated. “Please, speak frankly.”

“Are you certain that mad dwarf’s explosives are safe?”

“Of course they aren’t. But clearly, they adore flaming things thrown at them. Why else would they lob so many our way?” I grinned and the soldier struggled to keep professional stoicism. “To be serious, they’re safe enough for us to throw, but after I nearly lost my eyebrows to them, I much prefer using the catapults.” 

The soldier struggled to come up with a response and decided to just leave it be. That was fine by me, since I knew they’d still listen and that was all I could care about for the time being. I was exhausted and the weather currently reminded me too much of Ostagar for me to be comfortable, dark clouds threatening to swallow us whole. I hoped it wouldn’t rain. Rain made for terrible battles, and it would make it harder for me to do what needed to be done. It would still get done, of course. I was a Cousland. But I’d appreciate it if the Maker made my life easier for once.

Shaking my head, I forced myself to focus and check the surrounding area. This was our part of the plan that, to be perfectly fair to the soldier, was insane. If I weren’t so sleep-deprived and desperate to somehow mitigate our number disadvantage, I... would have at least waited until things were a little more dire. But explosives were always good for evening the odds, and when I talked with Dworkin about it, he’d been as giddy as a kid with cookies. His only concern was keeping darkspawn off of him and his apprentices long enough to get everything rigged. So, I’d taken command of a small group to keep this section clear and three waves later, here we were. And it still took another two for Dworkin to finish all preparations.

“Fire in their asses!” With that creative warning, the catapults swung. The hastily tied together bombs sailed through the air in a deceptively pretty arc, with only a couple slipping loose too soon. Of course, it didn’t matter if they didn’t all hit exactly where we aimed. The main reason they were tied together was to keep them from accidentally dropping on our own heads.

And the infernos from those explosives were frankly amazing. They cleared the entire area outside the walls without us having to do anything. A few of the soldiers even clapped, like it had been a show. Part of me was tempted to join them. But, alas, with this area clearly secured, it was my responsibility to give out orders, send a scout updating the other divisions, and rush to the next area of trouble. 

“Warden-Teryn!” Though, if a soldier conveniently found me as I was determining where to head to next, I wasn’t going to complain. “My apologies, sir, but you... you might need to head towards the outer gardens,” they reported, barely managing a salute.

“They’ve made it to the outer gardens?” I murmured, barely keeping myself from frowning. It wasn’t the worst, but it was still further in than I would’ve liked, especially since I didn’t have anyone... “Who is stationed there? How far have they’ve made it past?”

“No one, sir. But... uh...” Strangely, they became hesitant. “The plants kind of... well, they’ve been somehow attacking the darkspawn, so they haven’t gained any ground.” It took me a long second to comprehend those words. “We saw it from the ramparts, and I was sent to inform you. And ask why we had killer plants?”

“All plants are killer if you know what to do with it.” The quip helped buy me time to figure out an answer. “But in this case, Velanna left us a gift before she departed.” At least, that was the assumption I was going with. 

“Bless the Dalish!” Well, that was a sentence I didn’t hear often. “What are your orders?”

“For now, return to your post and send those free to the gardens.” We couldn’t rely on the plants forever and damn if that was also a sentence I didn’t hear often. “I will meet them there.”

The soldier saluted and scampered off. I gave my last-minute orders and ducked back into the Keep to take some shortcuts to the gardens. Along the way, I made sure to shout encouragements to any soldier I passed; morale was always be finicky and during a siege, it was even worse. I had to do what I could to keep it falling, given the foe we faced. And sometimes, all you could do was stop it from falling further, like when I made it to the gardens and found the soldiers gathered there. The fear in their eyes... I didn’t even need to ask why. After all, I smelled the smoke before I stepped out the visually confirm the garden was no aflame. In the distance, I could see a Darkspawn Emissary casting fire spells, determined to destroy the only thing it could see impeding their advance.

Rolling my shoulders, I tried to step out, but someone was brave enough to grab my arm and stop me. “My lord, you can’t!” they yelped. I tried to place an age, but couldn’t. They had one of those ‘timeless’ faces, where they could be anywhere between twenty and eighty. “The magic...!”

“Relax, Alistair taught me some templar tricks,” I boasted with a reassuring smirk. Though they were much more situational now that I wasn’t dealing with demons all the time, some tricks remained useful no matter what. “This includes a resistance to magic.” I gently shook them off and stepped into the fire to prove my words. I caught some blisters, but it was worth their awe. They even shouted when I dispelled the magic and took advantage of the emissary's surprise to cut them down quickly. Foolishly, it had been alone, so it was safe for them cheer. I, however, mourned the loss of the garden Velanna tended to so carefully. It was naught but withered branches and scattered ash. I hoped the knowledge that it had a kill count in the double-digits, or so I guessed by the charred remains scattered about, would ease the blow. 

But of course, I didn’t have the time to dwell on it. Other darkspawn were making their way here, and I had to rally the soldiers to push them back. And I had just finished blockading the area when a bloodied soldier burst from one of the other entrances and skidded to a stop in front of me. 

“Warden-Teyrn, the main courtyard has been overrun!” they shouted, not even bothering to salute. I wished they’d been a little quieter, since the soldiers near started murmuring and looking fearful, but I couldn’t fault them for it. It was terrible news. “Seneschal Varel was attacked by an ogre, and Warden Oghren... he was leading the defense and taking on two ogres when he ordered me to find you!”

“Oh, he just has to show off,” I sighed, going with the easy sarcasm. It did wonders to lift the soldiers’ mood. “Get yourself treated. Those of you who can run, with me.”

With that, I was off, not even bothering to see who followed. The main courtyard... if we lost that, then we were only a step away from them infiltrating the Keep itself. The internal protections should hold well enough to keep Anora and the civilians out of harm’s way, but it still would not be ideal. It would be far better to push them out, and I tried to think of multiple strategies to do so. Of course, since life hated me, I ended up having to use none of them, but I couldn’t be mad. By the time I actually arrived, the courtyard was almost completely reclaimed. It felt like I only had to kill a handful of darkspawn before I was snapping orders to gather the wounded and reinforce the defenses. The two ogres were dead; Oghren had killed them just as we arrived and promptly collapsed. None filled in the gap, since someone led a charge out of the gates to meet them in the field directly. 

“My lord?” a soldier began hesitantly, catching my arm. They kept their head down, so I let them lead me to where some of the wounded were laid out. Since there was a focus on comfort and none on moving, I gathered these were those too wounded to survive. And right in the middle of them was Varel. “He... he was buying time for Warden Oghren to reorganize the defense when the ogre...” The soldier mumbled the words, curling in on themself. They were young, barely old enough to enlist. “I know you have important things, my lord, but he... he said he wanted to speak with you when you arrived...”

“I understand,” I whispered, analyzing Varel’s injuries. It was a miracle he was still breathing, with part of his abdomen gored out and I could see many minor ones. He’d been fighting hard even before the ogre came. “See to those who may yet live.” They nodded and rushed off. I stood there for a moment, wanting to go check on Oghren, but I decided to sit down on the ground next to Varel and take his hand instead. “Hey, I’m here.”

“Ah... Lord Nuada...” he rasped, managing a small smile, even if he couldn’t open his eyes. Blood stuck to his lips, and there were remnants of more dribbling down his chin. He didn’t have much time. If we had a Spirit Healer with us, then perhaps... no, the thought wasn’t even worth completing. The abdominal wound alone should’ve already killed him. “Good, good... did we win? Is the courtyard...?

“The courtyard is safe, and none made it inside. You and Oghren did well.” I held his hand tightly. “You’re a bit of a fool, taking on an ogre.”

“Ah, but it ambushed me.” That was fair. “Besides... we’re Fereldan. We go out fighting... with everything we have.” This was also fair. “It has... been an honor, my lord. Please... let the others know. Though I wish... I could have helped... Lady Layla more...”

“I’ll pass it on. I promise.” I hesitated before continuing. “She greatly appreciated what help you gave and hoped to learn more.”

“She’ll be a fine Arlessa.” His smile grew and then... then he passed. Honestly, he shouldn’t have even managed to hold on long enough for me to get here. But he wanted to hear the courtyard was safe, and... 

I sat by him for a time, longer than I should’ve, but just desperate for the rest and wishing I’d been better. I only left his side when I saw the soldiers nearby moving Oghren onto a nearby stretcher and went to help. “Damn, that’s a lot of blood,” I murmured, noticing just how crimson he was. No wounds were immediately fatal, but the blood loss itself might... “Hey, Oghren?” I leaned over him and was pleased to see him blink bleary eyes open to look at me. I was less pleased to see they were unfocused and fading fast. “If you die, I’m pouring all of your alcohol into a ravine.”

“At least drink it, you sodding bastard…” Oghren retorted. At least, I think that was what he said. It sounded more like ‘atlesdrinktusoddintard’, since his words were slurring together. “Nuada?” But my name, at least, wasn’t mushed. “Show them our hearts.” And, surprisingly, neither were those words.

“And I will show them their own too.” I remembered the words; he’d said them to me when we fought the Archdemon. “The stone turns red from the blood of heroes, and you are every bit the warrior we thought you were.” This was… getting too sappy for me. “But I will seriously pour all your alcohol into a ravine if you die.”

He barked a laugh before coughing up blood and finally fainting. The soldiers carried him off, and I desperately hoped that wasn’t our final conversation. But I couldn’t linger on the worry or the hope. The battle... was still raging. 

“Hey,” I called, catching the attention of the nearest soldier who wasn’t immediately busy. The fresh blood splattered on their armor was not Tainted, telling me that one of the injured they’d been tending to... well, they were probably not alive anymore. “Who led the charge outside?”

“I believe it was Warden Sigrun, Warden-Teyrn,” they replied easily. I barely kept myself from groaning because of course it was her. “What should we...?”

“Maintain the defenses. I will be joining them in the field.”

“Yes, my lord!”

I left them to it and rushed out, sword and shield in hand. Almost immediately, I was swarmed by darkspawn. Specifically, I was swarmed by those thrice-damned ‘children’, except these ones had far too many limbs, looked like walking maggots, and spat acid. They were also tenacious things, and each time I killed one, two more managed to wriggle out of the mess to try and bite my neck. But I fought my way through, because I needed to. I bashed them with my shield, drove my sword into them again and again until nothing was left. I didn’t stop, despite them gnawing on my arms and legs. I had good armor; the weight was more annoying than anything and by this point in my life, I had more than enough strength to just throw them off of me. Still, it meant I took much longer than I would’ve liked to reach the rest of the soldiers fighting for everyone’s lives but their own and it took me even longer to find Sigrun. When I did, I discovered she’d killed six of those ‘evolved’ Children, was fighting off two more, and had a plain ol’ darkspawn sneaking behind to run her through. So, I did what I always did when I felt I was too far away. I slipped my shield off and threw it as hard as I could to half-decapitate the darkspawn. Then I helped Sigrun kill the last two. 

“That trick seriously only gets more useful as I get older,” I commented lightly, recovering my shield from the corpse. It took longer than I’d like, since it was wedged in tightly. “Sigrun? You alive?”

“For now, I guess,” Sigrun sighed, acting very mournful about it. It wasn’t long before she was smiling like usual. “What a shame.”

“You aren’t allowed to die yet. I’ve many urgent tasks for you once our rude guests have disappeared.”

“You know that I have to go on my Calling, right? I owe the Legion a death.” The words were dry and her smile wry. But her eyes danced with amusement. “I suppose it can wait until after the supposedly urgent tasks are dealt with.”

“Oh, you’ll regret that. I’m a noble; I know all about making up urgent tasks.”

“I’ll take that bet.” She grinned, discarding any pretense of sarcastic seriousness, and I smiled back. “But wow, there’s a lot.” Yes, there were, and they were terribly organized. So, there had to be a leader, no doubt another of the ‘talking darkspawn’. “Right, so, I head one way, you head another, and we hope we meet somewhere in the middle of things?”

“Where would the ‘middle’ be in this mess?” I didn’t mind letting the playfulness through; she wasn’t a soldier who needed to be inspired, after all. “Honestly, since we reclaimed the courtyard, the best thing to do might be-”

A loud sound blared in the distance, rudely cutting me off, and my tired mind took a long second to place it. But, the long, low notes were a noise I associated with war horns, and when I looked up, I saw flags flapping in the distance. But they weren’t any flags, as they bore the heraldry of the Feravel Plains. Eddelbrek... ha... it looked like that gamble paid off, and even better than I thought. After all, I could see other standards proudly declaring the arrival of others. 

“Whoa, is this the fabled cavalry I’ve read about in stories?” Sigrun asked, her voice a perfect mix of dry awe. Her wide eyes tipped it more towards ‘awe’. “That happens in real life?”

“Usually, we’re the ones playing the part, so it’s strange being on this side of the literary device,” I quipped, refusing to relax. There were still many, and we did not know... “Right, so, since we have fresh forces, we should...” A very large ‘thud’, one that make the ground shake, made both of us turn. What I saw nearly made me groan. “Oh, it’s so nice of them to bring an armored ogre. Truly, darkspawn bring all the best gifts.”

“Even better is that little one nearby that’s clearly snapping orders.” Sigrun pointed to them for emphasis. I noticed the distinctive coloring and wondered if all of the talking darkspawn conveniently marked. “I’ll take the big one.”

“Sigrun, you maybe come up to its knee.” At the same time, though, I was analyzing the two. The leader was unknown, completely and utterly, while the ogre... “Then again, that should make it easier for you to hamstring it and given the size and the bulk of the armor, it would be more difficult for it to hit you.”

“Oh, great, I was trying to make a joke and you turned it tactical.” She made a face, but rolled her shoulders. “I’m game, though.”

“Rally who you can. I will take this leader myself.”

She reached up to pat me on the back and took off. I thought about doing the same, but instead chose to make my slow way over to the talking darkspawn, to take my time analyzing it. No sign of magic, and it wore two axes on its belt. That led me to believe it was not a mage and, instead, dual-wielded. I could work with that, especially when it focused on me and smiled some crooked facsimile of a grin.

“Ah, the Warden-Commander arrives,” it hissed, drawing its axes. I regarded it with a slight smile and made myself relax. “The Mother will be so pleased with her Herald.”

“I love breaking this to you, but I’m the Warden-Constable, not the Warden-Commander,” I replied calmly. It tilted its head, clearly having no idea what that meant. “We could exchange more words, or we could skip to the fighting part. I’m fine with either.”

Its face twisted into a snarl, and it lunged, answering my question. I caught the initial blow on my shield and stepped inside its guard to strike and prevent it from attacking a second time. That was a key weakness of dual-wielding, and it gave me the openings I needed. Of course, I didn’t need to force any openings. This part of the battlefield was mine , and this poor fool just wandered into my territory. And they could not go around me. I’d drawn the line in the sand, and none would pass me. Most would call it suicidal, and I knew this would be to the death, mine or theirs. But I knew my armor, knew my shield, and knew how to drive my enemies to a frenzy to weaken their guard. So, all I had to do was push myself to my limits, push beyond, and counter every single strike.

“We break the Keep! We break the Wardens!”

“Fortunately, you won’t break either.” 

I kept my calm as the two of us dueled. I had to. It was tempting, so tempting, to just let loose. It was tempting to let the fury take over, to swing and swing until there was nothing left of either of us. But I kept it leashed, because I couldn’t bear to see Layla upset over my injuries. I could focus it and still go on a rampage. A few darkspawn tried to skirt near, but they learned quickly how foolish of an idea that was. Their deaths only spurred me on, the smell of blood making the dragon’s power within me burn. 

“We leave only ash!”

“Even magic would have a hard time reducing stone to ash, you idiot.”

Eventually, the darkspawn, this ‘Herald’, made a crucial error when striking and got its blade and feet tangled. I took advantage and slipped within its guard to cut its head off. And with the death of their leader, the other darkspawn quickly fell into easily quelled chaos. Many actually fled, only to find themselves turned into makeshift quivers by the number of arrows. Fresh forces brought fresh supplies, after all. 

I thought about taking command of the final rout, but like this was some bardic tale, the skies above us suddenly cleared, bright sunlight streaming down in triumph. Around me, the soldiers cheered and sobbed, because with the blue skies came victory. Our enemy had tried to conquer the Vigil once again, but this time, they failed. We weathered the siege and survived. The losses were great, and the damage was even worse. But it was a victory, nonetheless.

A smile broke onto my face, the first real one I wore since the first darkspawn was seen, and I closed my eyes to enjoy the warmth on my face. All that was left were the instigators, and I didn’t need to worry about them. Cleon would return with either news of the lair’s location or the leaders’ deaths. That was why I tasked him to leave.

My part was over. Cleon would finish it.