A Most Awkward Reunion

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age.

Anastasia Theirin – and didn't that sound weird? – finally made her way down to the dungeon to see this mysterious prisoner everyone was talking about. She had known that rebuilding the Grey Wardens in Ferelden wouldn't be an easy task when she'd…volunteered, for lack of a better word but this was ridiculous. She hadn't really wanted to leave court and her brand-new husband in order to deal with Howe's old land but Alistair had pointed out that it was either her or some Orlesian Warden. Needless to say, she was going to have to trust Eamon to help Alistair rule while she was gone.

So while she had agreed to go, she had expected problems between the Orlesian and Ferelden factions and maybe a little resistance from the banns who had suffered due to the old Arl's fall from power but this…The walls weren't good enough, the basement wasn't safe, the other Wardens were all dead, the stock of explosives were out, Wade was too cold and bored to do anything, there had been an attack by talking darkspawn…and now she had to deal with some sort of thief. And the nobles still probably hated her. Joy.

Her new Mage Warden, Anders, had opted to stay inside the Keep where it was warm but Oghren had decided to follow her down to the dungeons. It wasn't like Anastasia wasn't happy to see him, of course, but she was a little concerned that he'd shown up out of the blue demanding to be a Warden. The last she'd heard, he'd married Felsi and had a child – named after her, no less – and now he showed up here, alone? Still, there was no way to find out what happened if he just left and she did need capable fighters, so she let him stay.

"So I heard there was something about a prisoner?" Anastasia asked the guard, not bothering to glance the prisoner's way. She could deal with him after she had all the facts.

"Yes, my lady," the guard confirmed. "He's been locked up for three nights so this one was protected while others died."

"Being locked up didn't seem to help half of the prisoners in that other dungeon I saw," Anastasia noted. "Why was he in a different prison than everybody else?"

"I have no idea," the guard confessed. "It was Captain Roland's decision and, as you know, he died in the attack."

"So who is he?" Anastasia inquired.

"We're not sure," the guard replied. "He won't say."

Anastasia rubbed her temple in annoyance. "And you couldn't interrogate him because…? What do I pay you people for again?"

"Apparently to guard mining expeditions to the basement," the guard deadpanned.

Anastasia reddened slightly. "Well, I tried to explain that it really wasn't necessary since if they were to somehow encounter any problems the guards would be within shouting distance, but Herron pointed out that I had to slaughter my way to the ore deposit, so I decided to just humor him. And he was kind of right…"

"If you say so," the guard said dubiously. Then it was his turn to look sheepish. "We've been calling the prisoner 'Mr. Who.'"

Anastasia snorted. "That's original."

"I am nearly positive that 'originality' is not one of the things you're paying us for," the guard returned.

"Evidently not," Anastasia agreed. "Why do I have to deal with this anyway? Couldn't you just execute him? If this was before the attack then the Seneschal was under no obligation to wait for me to arrive before making the decision."

"We could have," the guard confirmed. "But the Seneschal said he was going to leave it up to you. Technically, ,all he's guilty of is attempted theft, but for all we know he's here to murder us all in our beds."

"And Maker forbid anyone but me actually make any real decisions," Anastasia murmured, rolling her eyes. "Fine, whatever. Leave me with him."

"Very well, my lady," the guard nodded. "I'll go get the Seneschal."

"You do that." Anastasia's eyes flickered over to the prisoner for the first time since arriving and she froze. "Well, if isn't Nathaniel Howe."

"What, so it's not 'Mr. Who' but 'Mr. Howe'? That's great," Oghren laughed.

Nathaniel had previously been sitting on the floor of his cell and watching the goings-on without much interest but at that he rose to his feet and stepped forward. "Recognize me, do you?"

Anastasia nodded vaguely. "It's been, what, eight years since I last saw you but you used to be friends with my brother before…"

"Before you brutally murdered my father?" Nathaniel helpfully supplied.

"The Commander's not really one to 'brutally murder' people," Oghren interjected. He paused. "Well, there was that one guy…"

"And this is his son," Anastasia explained.

"Oh. No wonder he wants to kill you," Oghren said bluntly.

"It wasn't that brutal," Anastasia claimed.

"Your husband says he still has nightmares," Oghren countered.

"I told Alistair to leave the room!" Anastasia exclaimed.

"So it wasn't enough that you killed my father, you had to do it in such a way as to give the King of Ferelden nightmares even a year later?" Nathaniel asked slowly, his eyes narrowed.

"Well, it's not like I woke up one morning and thought 'you know, I really don't have enough to do between deposing our Queen, ending a civil war, plotting the death of Ferelden's other Teyrn, and stopping a Blight. I think I'm going to go kill an old family friend,'" Anastasia said defensively.

"Then why did you?" Nathaniel challenged.

"He killed my family!" Anastasia burst out. "Whatever I did to you, surely you can understand my reasons why."

"Your family was planning to sell us out to the Orlesians," Nathaniel insisted, crossing his arms stubbornly.

Anastasia groaned. "Maker, you sound like Loghain…"

"I sound like the Hero of River Dane who tried to hold our nation together after King Cailan tragically fell alongside most of the army at Ostagar?" Nathaniel repeated sardonically. "I understand that he died at the Landsmeet, but you can't deny he tried to save us from Orlais."

"No, I suppose I can't deny that," Anastasia admitted. "And he did save us. He just couldn't stop trying to save us even when we had bigger problems. And for the record, my family would never work with the Orlesians under any circumstances ever."

Nathaniel chuckled darkly. "So you say."

"So I know," Anastasia corrected. "If nothing else, my family has always hated Orlesian accents. Every time one of them says something, my ears attempt a mutiny. Yes, we could put up with listening to them when we had to, but why willingly seek them out? And why invited them back after what happened the last time they tried their hand at ruling our nation?"

"Well, my family wouldn't side with them," Nathaniel said firmly. "My father fought with King Maric to help him reclaim his throne."

"So did mine!" Anastasia pointed out. "But my family wanted Orlais gone from the start and your father only joined King Maric after your grandfather was hung as a traitor for supporting the Orlesians."

"I'll…admit I don't know what happened to the Couslands," Nathaniel said carefully. "By all accounts, it was horrible."

"I watched my father bleeding to death in our larder and my mother refuse to leave his side because she wanted to give me a better chance to escape," Anastasia said softly, pointedly staring at the ceiling. "I found my sister-in-law and my nine-year-old nephew lying dead in my brother's room. I had no idea what happened to my brother for an entire year but given that he was at Ostagar I often suspected the worst. I was dragged away from my dying father and my soon-to-be dead mother by a Grew Warden who insisted that I join his order as the price for saving me. I would have refused to go, of course, but my father told me that it was my duty. My family always does our duty. You know what else was our duty? Not selling our King out to the Orlesians."

Nathaniel was quiet for a moment. "Fine, so maybe they weren't planning that," he conceded. "I already told you that I wasn't here and we can't ask my father for his reasons since you brutally murdered him."

"After he described to me my parents last moments in explicit detail, you could hardly expect anything else. Besides, he attacked me first so it was self-defense," Anastasia informed him.

"You killed him in his own home!" Nathaniel objected. "Of course he attacked first."

"If you want to blame anyone for us being there, blame Anora," Anastasia sniffed. "She up and got herself captured and even though we all knew it was a trap – because seriously, how was her Orlesian maid able to get out and warn us and how did Ser Cauthrien know your father was dead so quickly – Eamon made me go 'rescue' her anyway."

"Didn't you have Anora executed?" Nathaniel asked rhetorically.

"Alistair did, after the Blight," Anastasia confirmed. "She kept inciting those guarding her to rebel and try to help her escape so it was really a matter of practicality."

"So since she's dead, I'm blaming you," Nathaniel said coolly. "I can't even get anyone to tell me how my father died, either."

"That's probably for the best, kid," Oghren spoke up. "It wasn't pretty."

"Death rarely is," Nathaniel responded dryly.

"By 'wasn't pretty' I meant 'by the time she was through with him the walls were soaked with blood and he was in more pieces than I can count.' You'd actually be surprised how much of that he lived through…" Oghren trailed off, looking thoughtful.

Nathaniel paled. "You're right. I really didn't need to know that."

"Oh, come on," Anastasia protested. "It had to be done."

"I'm seriously rethinking my decision to not try to kill you," Nathaniel announced.

Anastasia blinked, surprised. "You weren't trying to kill me?"

"Or anybody else, either," Nathaniel verified, "which is how I got captured."

"Then why were you here?" Anastasia pressed.

"I wanted to try to reclaim some of my family's things. It's all I have left," Nathaniel admitted, looking downcast.

Anastasia looked positively pained. "Oh, no! Bleeding heart!"

"…Pardon?" Nathaniel asked, unsure if he really wanted to know.

Anastasia coughed. "Never mind. So, just for the sake of discussion, what kind of skills do you have?"

"Hunting, trapping, poisons…why?" Nathaniel asked suspiciously.

"Are you good with a bow?" Anastasia wanted to know. "Since Leliana took off to inspire pilgrims or whatever the Chantry was having her do, I've been sorely lacking a decent archer."

"I am, indeed," Nathaniel answered in the affirmative. "Why?"

"Really?" Oghren demanded. "Him?"

"You know I'm hopeless with a bow, mages are far more useful when using magic, and you refuse to even try your hand at archery," Anastasia pointed out.

"If you fight at a distance with no chance of gushing blood then you're not really fighting," Oghren announced.

"So we need him, then," Anastasia continued.

"Fine…" Oghren sighed heavily. "Hey, do you remember that one recruit with the nice rack? The one who died in the Joining?"

"What about her?" Anastasia asked, curiously. It wasn't like she was happy Mhairi had died by any means, but her life would certainly be easier without a straight-laced knight critiquing everything she did. If she had problems with recruiting Oghren and Anders…well, she certainly would not approve of anything else she did during the course of straightening out the Arling.

"She thought it was such an honor to join and then you let me and Anders in. Imagine, the very idea of the Wardens having standards," Oghren laughed at the thought.

"We do too have standards!" Anastasia insisted. "You have to be a decent fighter and not have an Orlesian accent thicker than Leliana's to be allowed to join."

"…What are you talking about?" Nathaniel demanded, having given up trying to figure it out for himself.

"You'll find out soon enough," Anastasia assured him absently. "How would you feel about working to redeem your family name?"

"Oh, brilliant," Nathaniel drawled. "I'll just run right out and join King Alistair's service. I'm sure he'd be thrilled to give a Howe a second chance."

"He will if I tell him to," Anastasia declared. "Besides, he'd probably feel awkward about what happened with your father…"

Just then, Seneschal Varel arrived. "Have you decided what to do with the prisoner?"

Anastasia nodded. "Indeed. I hereby invoke the Right of Conscription."

"Wait, what?" Nathaniel demanded. "No. Absolutely not. Hang me, first!"

"You may not realize this, but 'conscription' kind of means 'force people to join a military order'," Anastasia said wryly. "And surely this is better than hanging you? Well, unless you die in the Joining. I've always thought that looked rather painful…"

"You really want a Grey Warden who wants you dead?" Nathaniel remained skeptical.

"I'll have you know that some of my best friends have wanted me dead," Anastasia sniffed, somewhat affronted.

"…Well, alright then. Do note that if I try to kill you again, it's not like I didn't warn you," Nathaniel requested.

"Will do," Anastasia agreed cheerfully. "

After he was lead away, Varel turned to her. "Commander, are you sure about this? I'd recognize those features anywhere; this man is a Howe and they are implacable enemies."

"Oh, it will be fine," Anastasia assured him. "Besides, once I make him love me and realize that his father was evil, my revenge will at last be complete!" Needless to say, she chose to indulge a bit in some maniacal laughter.

"You don't think you've done enough?" Oghren asked incredulously.

Anastasia tossed her hair back. "Not. Nearly."

"As you wish," Varel said dubiously. "Though for the record, I still think a noose would be easier."

"That may be so," Anastasia conceded, "but I really do need someone who can use a bow…"

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