All Dragon Age belongs to BioWare, but Lorelai (and anyone random who magically appears) belongs to me.
Welcome, new readers! And to everyone whose read Find The Way, welcome back! I've missed writing, and I've missed your oh-so-wonderful reviews! I planned to start this second story much sooner, but alas moving,flooding, a wedding, a funeral... Well, you can see how I might have put it off.
Now we're back in business!
This story is going to be very different from Find The Way...fewer characters bawling their eyes out, for one :P. I hope you like it just as much (but for different reasons) as you liked Find The Way.
This is my take on what being a ranger in the game means, sorry if it doesn't jive with what you think a ranger is/should be.
I dedicate this story to the rogues: Zevran, Leliana, Nathaniel, Sigrun, and of course...Lorelai :)
"I can't believe you didn't tell me! All this time!"
Nathaniel's mouth twitched a bit at the corners, but he bit the inside of his cheek to keep the small smile from growing. He was glad he was walking in front of Sigrun. It made it that much easier to keep any expressions that accidentally showed on his face from being seen. He supposed he sympathized with her a bit. After all, he'd only found out slightly before she had.
He honestly couldn't believe he hadn't put it together sooner. On his mad trek back from the Free Marches, with wild thoughts of revenge pulsing through his heart, he'd caught snatches of news of the political shift, of the new ruler – rulers – and yet he'd never put it all together. Utterly daft, really.
Now, with the battles done, the talking darkspawn issue sorted, and a newly renovated Keep freshly destroyed, it was time to meet said rulers. Of course, the source of Sigrun's embarrassment being that they'd already been in the presence of one the whole time.
"We weren't trying to hide it from you! It just...never came up."
Nathaniel felt his mouth twitch again at the growl of frustration that boiled out of irate dwarf's mouth. Wrong answer, mage, he thought.
"'Never came up'?" Sigrun was shouting. "I pretty sure there was plenty of time for this conversation when we were doing all that walking, Anders!"
"I don't get the fuss! So sodding what, eh? Just because the Commander spends her free time in the sack with-"
"Oghren!" Sigrun shrieked. "Don't talk like that about...about..."
"Listen, girlie, I knew these two when they weren't nothing but Grey Wardens! I said what I wanted about 'em then, and I'll say what I want about 'em now!" Oghren let out a terrific belch. "If you ask me, the Commander could do a shade better than that over-tall, shield-carryin', goofy-"
"You're the worst!" she interrupted. "All that time trying to get under my armor, and you fail to mention this! I swear you're such a..."
Nathaniel couldn't help himself any longer. A smile broke across his face as Sigrun berated her fellow dwarf in such a foul-mouthed rage it made it hard to tell which one of them had the filthier vocabulary.
"Enjoying the show?" murmured a voice from in front of him.
He raised his eyes. The Commander was ahead of him, leading them down the road. She'd turned her head just enough to see him out of the corner of her right eye, and the amusement there was unmistakable.
"Perish the thought," he answered promptly, before narrowing his eyes and adding, "aren't you?"
"I'm more amused by the fact that a few months ago, you wouldn't dare crack a smile in front of us. Now..." She trailed off, and her smile was filled with a bit of victory.
Schooling his face into sterner lines, he inclined his head to her in strict deference. "Would you prefer I go back to my tight-lipped ways, Commander?"
"You mean, would I prefer you go back to wishing me dead?" She laughed. "No, Nathaniel. I prefer the relationship you and I have now to the one we had when we first met."
"And what relationship would that be?" Anders came bounding forward, inserting himself between them. "Nothing naughty, I hope. I'm sure the Commander's husband wouldn't appreciate that." He darted his eyes forwards and backwards, landing on Nathaniel and the Commander alternately.
She gave Anders a hefty shove, laughing again. "If I were you, mage, I'd be more concerned about myself than about Nathaniel."
"Why's that, oh fearless leader?" The blond mage bowed low before her, long hair falling in his eyes.
"Because I told my dear husband that you reminded me of him. He didn't seem to take that well." She tapped her chin with a slender finger, feigning confusion. "I wonder why..."
"Oh, good. That's what I needed." He raised a sarcastic eyebrow. "Did you tell him we killed a few templars, too?"
"Of course."
"You told him?" Anders squawked, and Nathaniel winced at the sudden increase in volume. "But he's a-"
"Never took his vows," she interrupted. "He is no Chantry-enslaved, lyrium-addicted lapdog."
"I should think not," Nathaniel muttered to himself. Or so he thought. The Commander's eyes flicked back to him.
"Your...opinion of the Chantry, which I do so admire, aside," Anders was sputtering, "was that really necessary?"
"He understood, Anders," she explained patiently. "He trusts me...as you should. Don't you? Trust me?"
The mage's mouth opened and closed several times, cheeks filling with color. "Yes, Commander," he finally managed.
"Good," she said briskly, grinning. "Now, can you see what can be done about calming Sigrun, before she starts pulling out Oghren's beard?"
As Anders drifted back to the rear of the group, and his voice added to the raucous dwarven shouting match that still raged on, Nathaniel stepped forward to be even with the Commander as they walked.
"Nicely handled," he said.
"I try."
"Did you tell the truth? Was your husband really...understanding about that situation in Amaranthine?" he asked.
"Really, Nathaniel. Would I lie?" she teased, turning to look at him, her short russet hair just brushing the top of her ear. "Yes, he was. He found it regrettable, as I did, but necessary."
"'Necessary'," he echoed. "Even in his position?"
"Of course." Her lips stretched in a feral smile. "The Right of Conscription must be protected."
A thrill ran down Nathaniel's spine. Of course, he thought of the Commander as a Grey Warden first and foremost. Actually, in the beginning, he'd thought of her as a Cousland first, which used to be tantamount to a swear word in his vocabulary. At least this particular Cousland.
But in light of his most recent discovery, the reason for all of Sigrun's fretting, he had momentarily forgotten about her tainted blood. Seemed silly, forgetting about something like that. After all, they were all tainted. Saviors of humanity and whatnot.
Her fierce statement had forcibly reminded him of the Grey in her, in them all.
He looked at the ground. Walking beside her, he couldn't help but wonder about the intertwining paths of Fate. They walked in step together, a Cousland and a Howe, both Grey Wardens...all because of his father's treachery.
"Honestly, Sigrun, leave your pigtails alone! You'll pull out all your hair if you keep it up," Anders chided from behind them.
"Ugh, it won't stop sticking up in the back!" she wailed.
"You look perfectly lovely, just as you always do," the mage assured her.
"Really?"
Sigrun? Lovely? Nathaniel rolled that over in his mind. He supposed she was attractive. He'd never thought about it. Her exceeding perkiness was usually the first thing that came to mind when he thought of her, not her looks. Her tattoos were striking, to be sure. And her hair was a nice shade of black, with some deep red undertones. And her smile was always-
"Sigrun, you don't have to worry," the Commander said, turning around to walk backwards. "He's not a hurlock."
Nathaniel turned to look, just in time to see Sigrun gulp and blink a few times. "Of course, Your Ma-"
The Commander raised her hand, and made a tsk noise. "You don't have to call me that, Sigrun. In fact, I'd prefer you didn't."
"But...that's what you are!" The dwarf's dark skin flushed across her cheeks and she twisted her fingers together in agitation.
"I'm many things," the Commander pointed out, grinning like a child. She spread her arms widely in mock self-importance. "I'm an archer."
"A Grey Warden," Anders supplied, wiggling his fingers mystically.
"A master ranger," Nathaniel added, and tried to keep the hint of jealousy from his voice. He couldn't so much as Call a mouse. But the Commander... He wouldn't be surprised if even the great leviathans of the oceans would come to her Call. Pushing his envy to the back of his mind, he gave Sigrun his best attempt at a calming smile. It seemed to work; she smiled back, tentatively at first, but then with a bit more of herself in it.
"A sister," the Commander continued.
"The hero of Ferelden!" Anders crowed, throwing his hands in the air with melodrama.
"My husband's idea, that one," she groaned, rolling her eyes.
"Arlessa of Amaranthine," was Nathaniel's next contribution.
The Commander's little game must have been working, since Sigrun laughed and joined the fray. "Slayer of the Archdemon!"
"That one, too," the Commander agreed, though a fleeting shadow crossed her face. No one else seemed to see it save for Nathaniel, however. "So, what's one more thing like-"
"Royalty?" Anders finished with a wicked grin.
The Commander sighed heavily, leaning her head back to rest on the butt of her heavy crossbow. "Not the word I was looking for, but yes."
"Any time I can help, you just let me know," the mage chimed cheerfully.
"Truly, you're a gem." The Commander placed her palm on her forehead in resignation.
"I'm telling ya, Commander, no one would miss him if you let old Oghren take care of him." The dwarf ground his knuckles together. "Introduce him to mister axe, if ya know what I mean."
She sighed again. "No, Oghren. There will be no killing of our fellow Wardens."
"Aww, but-"
"Oghren..."
"Oh, blast it."
Anders stuck his tongue out at the red-haired dwarf.
Oghren's bloodshot eyes widened considerably, and his face purpled with rage. "Come over here, boy! I'll give ya somethin' to do with that, after I chop it clean off!"
The Commander sighed for a third time. "What did I just-"
"Oh!" Sigrun said, hands falling to her sides. She was staring down the path.
Nathaniel turned and felt sweat immediately break out across his skin. "Um, Commander, perhaps you should face forward..."
She gave him a strange look, but turned as he requested. He watched color flash across her cheeks as her eyes widened. "Oh, I told him not to do this..."
"That's a whole lot of people," Anders said, coming forward.
The road sloped down a slight hill to Denerim, and the masses inside the capital could already be seen. They were lining the streets, from what Nathaniel could see, and he would wager it was like that all the way to the palace.
"A hero's welcome, apparently," he commented, swallowing hard. These people would only know him as his father's son, judge him by his father's crimes. He could already feel their accusatory stares, their dark mutterings.
And, of course, the Commander's husband. How was he going to feel about the son of the man who'd murdered his wife's family?
"I've got your back, Nathaniel."
He turned, and the Commander smiled at him from his left reassuringly. With his eyes off the path, he stumbled a step, and his bow came forward to knock him on the back of the head. Though having his family's ancestral bow was a joy he never thought he'd get to experience, right now it felt like as much of a brand as the peculiar s-shaped tattoo on Sigrun's face. Son of a murderer. Son of a traitor.
"Nathaniel?"
He blinked, trying to clear away the apprehension. He had the woman walking next to him to thank for his family's bow. The woman who had killed his father, which she had done because his father had killed her entire household, save for her brother.
Maker's blood, what tangled threads...
"And I've got yours," he answered finally, forcing a small smile. "You haven't held your position for very long. Can't imagine this is exactly comfortable for you, either."
"You should've been here after we defeated the Blight," she said, laughing nervously. Rolling her shoulders, she blew an errant strand of hair out of her eyes. "I'd rather face a horde of darkspawn," she mumbled.
"Quick, we'll turn back," Anders suggested. "Make a run for it."
"Can't. Without her, that boy would let the whole damn place fall apart in a few months!" Oghren laughed uproariously. A glugging sound filled the air, followed by thunderous belch. "All right, let's get all the wavin' and the smilin' over with. I want some of that palace hospitality." He cackled again. "I bet the Commander does, too!"
Anders burst out laughing as Sigrun buried her face in her hands. Whether in laughter or despair, Nathaniel couldn't tell. The Commander just pursed her lips and shook her head, but he could tell she was trying not to laugh herself.
"Miss him?" he ventured, trying to distract them both from what awaited them inside the city gates. He'd never asked her about her personal life...and look where that had gotten him.
"Yes," she sighed, in a tone Nathaniel had never heard before. He looked at her quizzically. When she caught his expression, she blushed. "I haven't been away from him for this long...ever." She let out a brief shout of laughter, as if the reality of that statement just dawned on her. "We've been side by side since the day we met."
He envied her love story.
He looked toward the city. The watch had noticed their approach, the word was being passed along. The noise of the crowd started quietly at first, but it rose in volume like an approaching storm. Oh, Andraste...
As they reached the outer wall, the gates swung inward as if of their own accord. The barrage of sound that greeted them was deafening.
"By the stone...!" Sigrun had to shout to be heard by the rest of them.
"Just smile and wave," the Commander advised. "The palace isn't far."
Nathaniel pulled his spine straighter, and followed his Commander into what felt like his worst nightmare.
They hadn't made it ten feet when they were approached by a contingent of guards. Their armor reflected the sunlight blindingly. "May we escort you to the palace, Your Majesty?" the man in front asked after they'd all risen from their deep bow.
"Must you?" she blurted out desperately.
Oghren guffawed, smacking Anders in the arm. "She always was a no-nonsense kinda gal!"
The man frowned. "The King insisted, Your Majesty."
"Of course he did," she muttered darkly. At the look on the man's face, the Commander smoothed her expression with effort. "Forgive me, it's been a long day. Of course you can."
The guard nodded smartly, and they were moving again.
The walk through the city seemed to go on forever. Nathaniel planned to have a few words with the Commander when they got to the palace. Her definition of "not far" and his seemed to differ greatly.
At last, the massive stone building loomed into view. With the guards in the way, Nathaniel couldn't see anything, or anyone, in front of them. The crowd held back, leaving a half circle clear before the palace gates, and those he assumed were the staff of the household stood nearest to the walls.
Craning his head, he tried to look beyond the guards. He had to confess, despite his apprehension over how he was going to be received, he was terribly curious about the man who was a match for his Commander.
Deep, booming barks burst out over the noise of the crowd.
"Oh, I'd move out of the way if I were you, gentleman," she advised the guards. "Now!" she laughed as the barking grew louder.
They parted obediently, just in time, too. The mabari that came charging through would've scattered them like dried kindling.
"Jacob, easy!" the Commander ordered.
He barely managed to skid to a halt, almost stumbling over his own legs in an effort to stop himself. Apparently too excited to stay calm, he jumped up, placing great paws on her shoulders and washing her face with strokes from his giant tongue.
"Jacob, Jacob!" she squealed, trying to twist her head away. She wrestled his paws off her shoulders, dropping the dog unceremoniously to the ground. Once there, he looked up at her in blatant worship.
"Ah, I can't resist those eyes," she groaned, bending down to rub the dog's head and ears thoroughly. His back leg thumped rhythmically in ecstasy. "Did you take good care of Alistair?"
At the name, the mabari turned to look over his shoulder, tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth.
The Commander looked at the same time Nathaniel did.
The man was not what he had expected, at all.
Tall, at least taller than Nathaniel, with dirty blond hair. His face looked young, boyish almost. The clothes, fine though they were, seemed out of place on him. He simply exuded the idea that he'd rather be wearing something else. Probably armor, this almost-templar, Grey Warden, secret son of Maric.
He certainly didn't look like a King.
What he did look like was head-over-heels, drop-dead in love. The grin on his face stretched from ear to ear, and even from this distance, Nathaniel could see the man's eyes glowing with joy.
The Commander stood up from where she'd been bent over her mabari. She seemed momentarily frozen, but her grin matched the man's.
"Well, go on, girl! I'm thirsty!" Oghren roared, stepping forward to give her an unceremonious shove in the back.
She stumbled a few paces as the mabari barked his agreement. That was all the encouragement she needed. Taking off at a run, the mabari pelting after her, she closed the distance in a hurry.
She leaped into the man's arms, and he lifted her up, spinning her in a circle. The mabari bounced around them, letting out a very un-wardog-like yip every time his feet touched the ground.
The crowd clapped and cheered with approval.
"What are ya waiting for?" Oghren demanded, pushing his way to the front. "You can't just wait for them to notice ya, we'll be here all day! Come on."
Nathaniel never thought he'd see the day when he would willingly follow Oghren's lead, but follow the dwarf he did.
As they approached, Nathaniel watched as the man finally let the Commander's feet touch the ground again. He buried his face against her neck as his hand came up to stroke her short hair. That's when Nathaniel heard the man's voice for the first time.
"Oh, Lorelai, I've been going crazy without you."