It was Never Going to be a Happy Reunion
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age.
King Endrin Aeducan was gazing down at his namesake, wondering vaguely when they had passed the point of no return and when this small child would become as completely ruthless as his father when the news that a Grey Warden had entered Orzammar came. Bhelen had been standing around anxiously like a child desperately wanting to be praised but that simply wasn't going to happen. Yes Bhelen had given him his only grandchild but if he hadn't killed Trian and Aunn –mostly Trian, really, given how his daughter had felt about the matter – then that wouldn't be the case. It seemed like he'd been more eager for approval than ever since the day he'd legally become an only child but perhaps it was just that Endrin had never bother to pay enough attention to him to notice before.
Why Bhelen seemed to think that killing his brother and sister would make Endrin proud of him was beyond him. Was it because of Nuraim? He had never admitted the role he had played in his elder brother's death but Bhelen had proven unexpectedly brilliant and had undoubtedly put the pieces together. If one looked at the facts, logically, Endrin having arranged for his elder brother's death to get the throne meant that he supposed he could see where Bhelen would get the misconception that he would not only be fine with but actually support a similar move in the next generation.
The problem was, of course, that it was a different situation altogether. Nuraim had always been a rather stupid man. He had thought to be the single truly honorable noble in the pit of corruption that was Orzammar and to somehow 'save' them all with the shining goodness of his example. The people had liked him well enough and there was a good chance that he would have been chosen King upon their father's death if only because the Assembly knew that they would be able to manipulate him every time he turned around and, potentially, that they'd be able to see another House take the throne once Nuraim's rule had ended. It wasn't that Endrin had hated his brother for all that he often wondered how he was even still alive but he had wanted the throne – and badly – and Nuraim's rule would have an unmitigated disaster.
Trian did show disturbing signs of Nuraim's same 'I was born first so therefore nothing will stop me from becoming King' thought process but his ever-present paranoia about his sister stopped him from holding Nuraim's unbearably naïve worldview. Had Trian been like that, of course, he would have had him replaced on the spot which, though a huge blow to Trian's pride, might have saved him. Aunn's main issue had been a lack of commitment to even never leaving Orzammar given her Grey Warden fascination (although she'd often assured him she would never dream of leaving forever), much less to taking the throne.
Those hadn't been insurmountable issues, however, and even if they had been he could hardly be expected to be that coldly logical about his children. Bhelen, all caught up in his own brilliance and determination to prove himself the best after all, didn't seem to realize this. If it came right down to it, Nuraim was in his way just as surely as Trian and Aunn were in Bhelen's but since they weren't Endrin's political opponents how could he possibly be expected to see it as the political necessity Bhelen did? The worst part was that he couldn't even say with certainty that it was all just politics for his last-choice heir. He hadn't seen it before but Bhelen really seemed to hate his siblings and Endrin was left wondering how it had come to this. Was it his fault? He had never meant to play favorites – who did, really? – but Trian had, as was customary, been the named prince from the moment of his birth and Endrin had always wanted a daughter so when Aunn was born how could he help but love her a little more? Unless he outright asked Bhelen, which he couldn't very well do without having to openly acknowledge what the boy had become even if he could trust him to be honest about his reasons, he really had no way of ever knowing and all this wondering would just drive him to an earlier grave.
The fact of the matter was that Bhelen didn't understand, he never understood. Harrowmont did, however, far more than Endrin would have thought give his disapproval of the choice to allow Aunn's exile and to leave Trian's murder unpunished. He was the final person in the room, alternating between smiling down at the baby and frowning at Bhelen.
The messenger was still waiting for an answer.
"A Grey Warden is here?" Endrin repeated. "That's rather unexpected. Is it Duncan?"
"No…" the messenger said hesitantly. "It's, well…"
"What is it?" Endrin prompted.
"It's the exi-" the messenger started to say before thinking better of it. "It's your daughter."
"What?" Bhelen hissed, his eyes narrowed.
Endrin froze. Aunn was still alive? And a Grey Warden at that? That was more than he'd ever dared hoped. He never thought he'd get a chance to see her again and now…for better or for worse they would get the reunion he'd been longing for since the day she'd been sealed into the Deep Roads. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a look of deep satisfaction on Harrowmont's face.
"You," he addressed the messenger, "bring my daughter here. Bhelen, you have a wonderful son and I am deeply honored that you chose to name him after me. I will have to ask, however, that we continue this another time as I'm sure whatever Warden business Aunn has will be important if she's returned here to handle it personally. Lord Harrowmont, I need to speak with you before Aunn gets here."
A dark look crossed Bhelen's face for a moment as he was, once again, dismissed in favor of his sister before his face smoothed out into a mask of impassivity so swiftly that if he'd been paying less attention he might have missed it. Endrin could deal with that later, though. It wasn't like either of them were going anywhere after all.
The minute Harrowmont and Endrin were alone together, the King said simply, "You knew."
Harrowmont shook his head. "I'd hoped."
"That was still more information than I had," Endrin pointed out. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"As you may have known, the Grey Wardens were delayed in leaving because of all the…commotion following the end of the expedition," Harrowmont explained. "As such they were still in the Deep Roads when Aunn was sent out there and I had Gorim tell her. It was still such a long shot, though, that I didn't want to get anyone's hopes up if she hadn't managed to find them after all."
"I should thank you for saving her," Endrin said quietly.
Before Harrowmont had a chance to respond, the messenger returned followed closely by Aunn. "I present to you the Grey Warden," he announced before bowing quickly and leaving.
Aunn looked better than the last time he had seen her, pale and haunted-looking and standing over Trian's body before she'd been dragged through the streets of Orzammar in chains on his orders. Her hair was done up in its customary braided double bun and her face was expressionless. It would seem that she had found Gorim if the heirloom shield on her back was any indication and she had a finely crafted sword which, for whatever reason, was glowing a bright blue color. What really drew his eyes, however, was her armor. The craftsmanship on was so skilled that the one who had created it might well have been one of the royal smiths of Orzammar. What was really interesting – and sure to cause a great deal of controversy – was the symbol of House Aeducan emblazoned on the front.
The three stood in silence for a few long moments before Harrowmont took the initiative and stepped forward. "It is good to see that you managed to find the Grey Wardens safely, Aunn," he told her sincerely.
Aunn actually smiled. "Without you, I wouldn't have even known to look and so I must thank you for saving my life."
"It was really the least that I could do," Harrowmont assured her. "I only regret that I could not do more."
"Yes, well I think we all have a lot of regrets about that time," Aunn said curtly. "I hope you won't let that get in the way of our business here."
"Why, exactly, are you here?" Harrowmont inquired curiously. "As a Grey Warden you are permitted to circumvent your exile and enter Orzammar but I wouldn't think you'd be keen on returning so soon."
"I wasn't, exactly," Aunn admitted. "But, as Duncan mentioned the last time he was here, a Blight is amassing on the Surface. The humans seem to have decided that the best way to make sure the darkspawn don't kill them all is to kill each other first and so most of their army is gone and there are only two Grey Wardens left in Ferelden. Unfortunately, my fellow Warden would be a bit…out of place here in Orzammar and so I came instead."
Endrin wondered exactly how badly 'out of place' the other Warden would have to be for Aunn to come in his stead but decided not to ask. He knew that he really should say something and yet…here was his beloved daughter right in front of him after having been dead for nearly a year and he had no idea what to say to her. 'I'm sorry for letting Bhelen and his pet nobles kill you'? He had more or less said that in the letter he had given her already but did that really make it better? His reasons for doing so hadn't changed even if he was growing less and less satisfied with the idea of Bhelen succeeding him by the day. Who else was there, though? Piotin? The boy was a fighter not a politician, just like his mother. The main thing that was stopping him from keeping the throne from Bhelen, even more than his duty to House Aeducan, was the knowledge of how much he had already sacrificed to, essentially, give Bhelen the throne. Justice for Trian, justice for Aunn…If Darina were still here she'd have never spoken to him again for what he'd allowed to happen to their children but then again if Darina had still lived then there was every chance that it wouldn't have happened in the first place.
He wondered suddenly if Aunn had read his letter. Did she know that he regretted his actions – although he wasn't sure if he regretted them enough to change them if he could – or had she done what he'd feared and burnt it without so much as opening it? She'd kept the shield but then he knew that she would. Their shared heritage meant too much for him not to. Perhaps the reason he didn't know how to begin was because she hadn't so much as glanced his way since she'd arrived.
"So you're here to call upon the ancient treaties then," Harrowmont realized.
Aunn nodded. "I am. The Assembly may not want to hear it from me but a Blight is coming and if we can't stop it on the Surface then we'll have to deal with them in Orzammar and I don't think anybody wants that, no matter how corrupt they may be."
"I do not think that the Assembly will oppose your treaty," Harrowmont opined. "You have returned at a good time. Still, the treaty specifically obliges the King to aid you and so you really will need to work out the details with your father. I should go let the Assembly know the purpose for your being here so they'll be ready to vote to send troops when the time comes."
With that, he quickly left the room leaving just Endrin and his daughter standing there in an awkward silence.
"It is good to see you again," Endrin told her as the silence stretched on so long as to become unbearable. "I must confess that I did not think that I would get a chance to."
"Understandable," Aunn addressed him for the first time in a low, measured voice. "Seeing as how I was supposed to be dead."
"I didn't want you to die," Endrin said quietly. It pained him that he should even have to say this but, given the circumstances, it seemed necessary.
"Having me thrown into the Deep Roads in rags and with no way out seems like an odd way of accomplishing that particular goal," Aunn said as though she were discussing a new weapon she'd recently purchased.
"You know why I did that, I hope," Endrin replied. If she didn't, if she hadn't read the letter then things were even worse than he'd thought. He had rather intended that letter to be a final goodbye but since it so very clearly wasn't now it seemed he'd need to at least mention it or else let it remain the bronto in the room.
"I do," Aunn conceded. "You had me killed so that you could avoid a scandal."
Endrin frowned reprovingly. "You make it sound so lurid."
"Forgive me but I feel very strongly about the issue," Aunn said with a deceptively mild tone. "And that's not to say that what I said was wrong."
"No one had you killed given that you stand before me very much alive," Endrin argued.
"That was hardly part of anyone's plan but Harrowmont's," Aunn pointed out. "The Assembly and, more specifically, my brother would have seen me dead and you would have let them."
"And what would you have had me do?" Endrin challenged. "Nothing could have cleared you of suspicion. All I could have done was prevented the Assembly from exiling you but the price…"
"I know," Aunn said softly. "I suppose I didn't really expect anything different even though I wanted to. Just because I knew and just because I understand doesn't mean that I have to forgive, though."
"I suppose that I expected that," Endrin said with a heavy sigh. "What happened to you? Lord Harrowmont let you know that Duncan was still in the Deep Roads and now you've taken it upon yourself to stop a Blight?"
Aunn nodded. "Indeed. It took me awhile to find Duncan but once I did he offered to let me join the Grey Wardens. I really had no other plans and fighting darkspawn has always been one of those things that I was good at so I agreed. The human army was preparing to face the darkspawn at the ruins of Ostagar and had already won a few minor skirmishes when I'd arrived. I became a Grey Warden, Ostagar became a massacre, and only Alistair and I remained of the Wardens. Due to circumstances beyond our control, the new human regent has declared Grey Wardens to be traitors to the Crown and doesn't appear to believe that there even is a Blight so we've been calling upon the treaties. We're almost ready to challenge the regent and put Alistair on the human throne but we need to hope that there are rumors about the Dalish elves movements by the time we leave here. We tried to find them earlier but they made themselves scarce."
Endrin didn't quite know what to say to that. It wasn't that he doubted Aunn's capabilities but the mere thought that the responsibility for ending a Blight had fallen upon her shoulders and that of this human Alistair's – was he a human? Probably if he were also apparently a prince or other high-ranking noble – was an unpleasant one. He had always been more protective of his daughter than he'd ever been of his son or Bhelen so it was ironic that it had worked out this way. "My daughter…" he shook his head. Aunn's eyes flashed as he addressed her thus but that's what she still was to him, no matter what had happened between them. She was certainly more of a daughter to him than Bhelen was a son, at any rate, not that that meant much in and of itself. "That's quite an undertaking."
"It could be worse," Aunn said dismissively. "I've been luckier than most people who have been condemned to walk the Deep Roads, I'd imagine."
Endrin stayed silent. What was he really supposed to say to that? Yes, she had been luckier? Joining the Legion would have meant that at least she hadn't had to live on the Surface even if it didn't have much in the way of life expectancy? He was sorry?
"How's Bhelen been?" Aunn blurted suddenly, looking like she couldn't believe she'd actually asked that.
Endrin couldn't believe it either. He raised an eyebrow. "You're really concerned about him?"
Aunn shrugged. "Concerned, curious, it's all the same. I'd just kind of like to know how he's fared since Trian and I ceased to be standing in his way."
Endrin almost winced at how callously she referred to the incident. That was likely how Bhelen saw it, however, and it was true even if a bit cold. "He has been building up his support. No one's underestimated him since…then which he seems to both approve of and get a little frustrated with. He was actually in here presenting his son to me when word came of your arrival."
Aunn started. "Bhelen has a son? I have a nephew?"
"His name is Endrin," Endrin revealed. "And he's four days old. His mother is a redheaded casteless girl. She's been around for awhile so you might have even seen her."
"I believe I know who you're talking about," Aunn confirmed, frowning a bit.
"He mostly looks like Bhelen although he has his mother's nose," Endrin continued, remembering how Aunn had hated the traditional Aeducan nose the men in their family usually had. When she was younger, she'd actually been frightened of it although she'd always been dreadfully embarrassed whenever she was reminded of the incident.
"Thank the Ancestors for small mercies," Aunn murmured. Endrin found himself irrationally relieved that she hadn't become so much a Surfacer in the last ten months as to start saying Surface things like 'Thank the Maker' even if some people would point out that, as an exile, Aunn technically had no ancestors. He never would, though, not to his daughter and not when part of the responsibility for this lay with him. "I'm never going to get a chance to meet him, am I?" Aunn asked a bit sadly, her eyes hooded.
"I don't think that Bhelen would allow it, no," Endrin affirmed.
"He'd probably assume I wanted to kill the kid," Aunn mused. "And even if he managed to satisfy himself that I wouldn't try, he'd want to hold the fact that he has an heir and I don't over my head…not that I even need one at this point."
"Are you happy on the Surface?" Endrin asked solemnly, not sure exactly what he'd want her answer to be. He loved his daughter and didn't want her to be miserable of course but he still didn't want it to be so easy for her to just forget Orzammar. It was terribly selfish, of course, but such was dwarven nature.
Aunn didn't answer immediately. "No," she finally admitted. "I'm glad that I'm getting a chance to try to do something about the Blight as I've never been happy to just sit back passively and watch other do things but…I just don't like the Surface."
"Why not?" Endrin prompted, paradoxically both saddened and deeply relieved to hear that.
"I've met other dwarves who've left for the Surface," Aunn announced, her voice calm and controlled. "They cite things like a sense of privacy, the fresh air and plant life, and the freedom of no castes as reasons why they prefer the Surface and I have to admit I can see their points on several issues but…it's not home. As has been made abundantly clear to me, Orzammar won't be my home either but if I could I'd still live here."
"I wish I could help you with that," Endrin told her honestly, the fact that all that was stopping him was concerns for the throne went unspoken but hung heavy between them as it wasn't like she wouldn't be able to figure it out.
"Even if you could, I'd have to leave anyway until the Blight's over," Aunn pointed out. "And those always take years to defeat."
"I've heard that the Grey Warden who ends the Blight has died the last four times it's happened," Endrin began slowly, uncertain if he should give her this hope that may prove false. "Of course, the first time the Blight was ended everyone died so it may mean nothing. Archdemons are tremendously difficult foes, after all. Still, if you can stop the Blight and you can live to tell the tale…you'll be a hero. You know how our people love heroes."
Aunn stopped breathing. "Are you saying…I might be able to come back?"
"There are no guarantees," Endrin cautioned. "But it really is your best shot."
"Then I guess we'd better get down to business," Aunn said determinedly. "So we can make sure to stop the Blight before Bhelen takes the throne or it will never happen."
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