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Chapter 1.
Rowena Cousland regains consciousness just in time to see Arl Eamon die.
He slumps forward, his right hand clutching his ribs as blood oozes over his iron clad fingers and spills in a thick stream down his side and to the floor. There is a sickening, slurping sound as the blade is yanked in a vicious arch upwards, twisted around and then yanked out. The old Arl shudders and coughs, blood spraying across her face. He kneels, and then slumps forward, his head hitting the floor with a vicious crack.
Rowena freezes still in the vacuum that follows, as if Arl Eamon has sucked all sound and air out of the hall with his dying breath. Her limbs feels cumbersome and sluggish, and it takes all her strength to make it to the Arl´s side and she helplessly places a hand on his back.
Rowena glances to Alistair through slitted eyes, her own breath suddenly growing heavy in her lungs, stifling any words of anguish before they even reached her lips. We lost, she thinks hazily, her own blades sliding from her defeated grasp. They rattle to the floor, the sound unnecessary loud.
"Take the Grey Wardens away. When we have won the battle against the darkspawn, they will be executed."
Her vision dances in a sickening array of bright colors and she feels tears brush salt and blood down her chin to her lips. Strong fingers clamps around her arm and the floor suddenly grows distant as she is yanked to her feet.
"What about the others?"
"They can join me as we bring our banners to the darkspawn horde and fight with honor, or rot away in the prison, the choice is theirs." Comes the grated answer from across the room.
Rowena doesn´t move as her mind flickers through all her options. She can still summon some strength. She Knows there is more force in her elbow than in her fist, that the neck, the nose or the temple are the weak spots. She knows that if she presses her foot hard down on the man's thighs she can immobilize him, if only for a moment. She knows that that an equally strong pressure on his neck or chest can kill him.
Fight. A small voice urges. Move. Do something.
Iron snaps around her wrists and a guard pulls her hands to her back and secured them.
"The Landsmeet is over. If anybody else cares to join these Grey Wardens speak now, I shall broker no threats or attempts of vainglory from any. The darkspawn is our foe and only united shall we be victorious!"
Loghain's voice slices through the silent hall, and eager voices murmurs in agreement. Life is suddenly restored to the hall and she heard the distant shuffling of feet as people start moving again.
His heavy cloak brushes over the floorboards as Loghain crosses the distance to the throne in smooth graceful motions. She thinks he looks like a great cat awakening and stretching its powerful limps and claws. He takes a seat glaring down at her, anger still lurks in his eyes as he regrades her with sullen distance.
Rowena twists her head to the right, averting her gaze but she sees Anora instead, standing next to her father, sapphire blue eyes in a pale face, her sharp teeth visible as she smiled. Wynne is standing by the far end of the hall, two tiny droplets of tears clinging to her trembling eyelashes. Behind her is Leliana, wringing her hands.
"Rowena!"
Alistair's voice is thick with grief and he pulls against the arms restraining him. His eyes lock on hers, searching, and pleading.
I'm sorry! Rowena glances away from his brown eyes, pushing her gaze to the floor, to the tip of her boots, water stinging her eyes. I'm so sorry.
The guards drag her forward and she stumbles after them. A few paces behind Alistair follows, cursing and fighting against his captors.
She cannot avoid looking at Arl Eamon's body as the guards leads her out off the hall. Blood is still pooling under his body. She spots Teagan at the edge of the crowd, Isolde is clawing on his arm and heavy sobs rocks her body.
And then she is escorted across the city towards the prison and through its tall halls to a cell, very similar to the one she has just escaped from. They are pushed into the cell, stumbling to the floor. The door is slammed shut behind them with a deafening clang, keys rattling as the locks clicks in place.
And then it is silent and utterly dark again.