Atonement

Amelie was pleased. Her armour and that of her fellow Wardens shone like the moon, the black griffins on their breastplates looked ready to break free and strike down foes. This day was very important to her, and even if her comrades didn't know or understand all the reasons why, they had outdone themselves in preparation. She had a maelstrom of feelings inside; apprehension, excitement, hope. It was the last feeling Amelie was desperate to ignore and she tried to think of other things.

"Are we ready, my friends?" she asked, with barely a quiver in her voice.

"Are you?", Warden Commander Deren replied. "Are you sure you want to do this? It is very close to politics and I know you don't like to be involved in such."

"It is not politics," Amelie shot back. "It is definitely a Grey Warden matter as far as I'm concerned and she should have known better than to try and twist it to her own advantage."

Sensing the imminent rant, Deren raised his massive gloved hands in surrender. "Fine, yes, I agree, Amelie, but the queen is going to be seriously pissed off at you."

"That's why we're all going, Deren" a deep voice rumbled from behind a lowered helm. "Amelie makes her speech, Deke makes sure everyone gets to hear every word, and then we get to bash our way through Anora's honour guard. I'm looking forward to it myself, it's going to be fun. I really dislike some of those arseholes."

Amelie winked at her supporter, Merik. Of her fellow Wardens, Merik was the one to whom Amelie had grown closest and thus he knew the most and understood best Amelie's motives. Today wasn't about fun or pissing off Anora, much as Amelie enjoyed pissing off the queen. It was about trying to atone for her blackest deed, the one which gave her nightmares worse than any archdemon could manage. Merik was the only Warden who knew for certain what the others guessed as Amelie's true motivation - the thirteenth Warden, whose name was never mentioned.

It had been a month since the invitation, or rather summons, had arrived. The massive monument to Loghain was finished. Warden Amelie was to give the main dedication speech at the grand ceremony Anora was planning in celebration of her father. There had even been instructions on what Amelie should wear, who she should bring, how the Grey Wardens should salute the statue to show Loghain proper was a wonder that, despite the many miles between Amaranthine and Denerim, the queen had not heard how eloquently Amelie had expressed her rage.

Now Anora ruled in her own right, not from Cailan's shadow, more of her less desirable character traits had been revealed to the populace. The queen was no longer universally loved. Insisting that this enormous statue be built when many were still homeless from the Blight had contributed to her growing unpopularity. Denerim's Alienage was a collection of scanty shacks. Elves might be generally held in contempt but even vocal bigots disliked seeing elven children die from cold and hunger in Ferelden's main city while money and materials poured out to pamper Anora's pride.

Amelie had begun writing her speech while still incandescent with anger. Successive revisions had toned the language but not the intent or meaning. Deren had commented wryly that it was damn lucky Wardens were so popular in Ferelden right now, because it might make it harder for Anora to kick them out of the country. Luck has nothing to do with it, had been Amelie's furious response, along with a neatly aimed tankard.

Anora had been keen to know with what words Amelie planned to honour Loghain. First, a suggestion that being unused to public speaking Amelie might want advice from someone more experienced. Amelie had sent a courteous note, politely reminding Anora that as Teryn Cousland's daughter, she had been extensively educated in oratory among many other things. It was, maybe, an exaggeration but Anora would know no different. There had followed other demands, decreasing in subtlety as the queen became ever more desperately curious. Amelie had brushed them all away with neat courtesy. Then had come a thought, just a thought really, that perhaps it would be best if Ferelden's Warden Commander spoke instead. The queen did not wish Deren to feel slighted in favour of a junior, even 'a' hero of Ferelden. The Wardens had begun to anticipate the arrival of Anora's missives, wondering what ploy she would try next and if she would dare a direct order and how soon. There were bets placed. Unfortunately, it had already been announced that Warden Amelie would be making the dedication speech, and word had spread surprisingly fast. Many had set forth for Denerim simply to see and hear Amelie at the ceremony. Amelie could not be replaced.

The previous morning Amelie had woken, certain of a new arrival in the city. It was the closest he had been to her since the immediate aftermath of the Archdemon's defeat. Amelie knew, as sure as if he were in the room with her, that Alistair had come to Denerim as well. She had risen from her bed, to stand over her sleeping child and sob silent tears of bitter shame. She had made the merest hint to Zevran about Alistair's presence, and she had not seen the Crow since. Amelie hoped he was merely looking for Alistair to talk to him, and not kill him.

"One last thing, and then we'll leave," Amelie announced. These were the words she always said before going out to battle.

Her maid, Lydia, had been waiting to hear them. She released the squirming child she had been holding, and the sturdy little boy made his unsteady way forward. Walking was still new to him and his brown eyes were narrowed in concentration. Amelie scooped him up into her arms, covering his face with tiny kisses.

"Dearest Duncan, darling Duncan, Ma has to go away for a little while," she told him, gazing at his face.

"Warden work," Duncan said. He understood the significance of the armour and weapons, though he had never seen them as shiny. It meant Ma would be away and some of his uncles too, but Lydia would look after him and Scrof would keep him safe. Sometimes Shale would look after him too, and let him ride on her shoulders.

Amelie pressed her cheek against her son's reddish blond hair and swallowed back tears. "I love you, darling," she whispered. "Try to be good."

"Love you, Ma, he replied, landing a wet kiss on his mother's ear.

Amelie set Duncan down next to her warhound. "Scrof, guard Duncan." The Maberi responded by licking Duncan's face from ear to ear, making the child giggle. "Lydia, be ready, just in case." The maid nodded, but bit back some words.

Amelie donned her helm and fell in beside Deren to march out of the Wardens' compound. Anora had invited the Grey Wardens to join her procession to the ceremony but Deren had firmly refused. Now they marched in funereal formation, slowly and silently. Others joined them, friends and strangers alike. Oghren and Shale had been waiting just outside the gate and Amelie thought that Zevran would be close too. Leliana would already be at the ceremony ground, and Wynne would be with the rest of the royal court. There had been no word from Morrigan for some months though, and Amelie had been wishing for some of the witch's acerbic advice.

The closer they got to the ceremony ground, the stronger grew the connection between Amelie and Alistair.

"Please, Maker," she prayed. "Don't let him do anything stupid. I'm about to be stupid enough for both of us."

The crowd in front of the platform parted wordlessly for the Grey Wardens. Most of their followers merged into the throng but Shale and Oghren joined the eleven Wardens in formation as Amelie climbed the stairs up to where the queen and her closest advisers stood. Behind them and over them loomed the gigantic Loghain. Amelie removed her helm and passed it to a waiting page. She searched the mass of people before her, seeking even the smallest glimpse of her love. There was none.

Deke, the Warden mage, made a few discreet gestures and then nodded. Amelie would have no need to shout. Her words would carry clearly to even the deafest member of the crowd. Her friends stood ready to prevent any physical attempts to interrupt or quieten her.

She was trembling, she was terrified, she was desperate. Was atonement even possible?