A/N: Well, it's about damn time I posted something else, is it not? Been sitting on this one for a while, ever since finishing DA2 - be aware that there are many spoilers ahead as this fic will feature characters from both games and it is set after the ending of DA2. I know some people care about pairings, so the established relationships at the moment include: Aedan Cousland and Zevran; and Anders and Hawke. They are not central to the story however.


Prologue - Murder Most Foul

Alistair awoke suddenly, gasping loudly, as if he had been dropped head first into icy water. He looked around the dark room, lit only by the fading embers in the fireplace. He was alone in the royal chambers, unsurprisingly, but he did not feel like it. Old battle instincts warred with common sense, and the King closed his eyes for a moment, willing his thumping heart to slow down. He opened his eyes again, yelping with fright. Someone stood over his bed, a dagger glinting menacingly in the dim light of the room. Sparks of lightning traced it's surface, and the familiar weapon was held by a familiar man. Alistair could scarcely believe it was him, his mind told him it was a friend, but his instincts were screaming that something was very wrong.

"What- What are you doing?"

"I'm sorry, old friend. Truly sorry."

"Why? What's going on?"

"It's just business, Alistair. I'm sure you understand."

"Wait! I-"

"You will understand."

Before he could move, he felt the cold dragonbone slicing through his flesh like a hot knife through butter. It burned and froze all at once, eliminating his scream before it could escape. The blackness came quickly, and Good King Alistair did not see the regretful expression on the face of a trusted friend. He was already gone.


The nobles that could be called quickly were gathered in the Landsmeet hall. It was impressive, Teagan thought, how many they had called within a short day. Not that it felt short, today had probably been one of the longest of his life. For those who could not be present, messengers had been dispatched. The Landsmeet proper was to be called in one month, but until then, there was an important announcement to make to the nobles of Ferelden they could recall. Teagan watched his brother stand before them, dark circles and pale complexion belying his fatigued state. Eamon looked broken.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for coming at such short notice. I have sent messengers to those who could not be here, but I have important news which cannot wait. The Landsmeet will be called early this year, in precisely one month's time. The reason for this, is... King Alistair is dead." Eamon's voice broke towards the end. As expected, this was news to everyone in the hall, and it took a full five minutes for the shocked outbursts and chatter to fade.

"He was found in the early hours of this morning, murdered in his own bed. We are still investigating who could have done this. Until such time as we are able to agree on a succession, I will be acting as young Duncan's regent. If anyone has any information on who may have done this, please come to me at any time. The Royal Funeral will be held at the end of the week, for all of those who wish to attend. Good day to you."

The nobles began to file out, talking in hushed whispers about the news they had just been given. Teagan nudged his way through the crowd until he could reach out and catch Fergus Cousland's arm.

"Teyrn Cousland, I wish to speak with you about an important matter," he whispered. Fergus nodded and waited until the others had left before following Teagan and Eamon to an antechamber.

"What's the matter Eamon?" Fergus said, looking between the two brothers worriedly.

"I wish I knew how to say this. Fergus... when was the last time you saw your brother?"

"Aedan? A few months ago, he was heading to Antiva. Why?" Fergus paled, looking panicked. "You don't think he's been..."

"No," Eamon said, clearing his throat, "There is no easy way to do this. Teagan?"

Teagan stepped forward, producing a small package wrapped in linen. He laid it on the desk in front of them, and Fergus noted a small spot of blood on the linen. Teagan opened it carefully. "This is the dagger used to kill Alistair. Tell me you don't recognise it," Eamon said.

Fergus looked, gripping the edge of the desk until his knuckles turned white. He shook his head defiantly. "No. No way. It's not possible, Eamon. They were friends, pracitcally brothers. There's no way he would do this."

"I had my own doubts Fergus, but you cannot deny what this looks like," Eamon said kindly. He had a point, the dagger was coated in dried blood. It was clearly recognisable as one of the enchanted unique blades that Aedan Cousland, the Hero of Ferelden, was never seen without.

"Why though? What possible reason could Aedan have to kill Alistair?"

"I have no idea. I am as confused as you are, but the facts remain."

Fergus stared at the dagger for a long moment, as if trying to comprehend what had occured. "What will we do?"

"I have sent a messenger to Amaranthine, I don't expect we'll find Aedan there but perhaps we can find out something. The messenger is due back soon." Eamon said. A knock sounded on the door, and Teagan dutifully answered it. He held the door open and Nathaniel Howe walked through the door, his expression much more grim than usual.

"Forgive me, Arl Eamon, I took the liberty of coming in person. After reading your letter, I had to speak with you."

"I did not expect... thank you for coming."

"The messenger spoke of King Alistair's death. I am deeply sorry for his loss, he was a good man." Nathaniel spoke sincerely, glancing at Fergus who looked ghastly. His eyes travelled to the bloodied dagger laying on the desk, blood draining from his face as recognition set in. "No. Not possible."

"We don't know what else to think." Teagan offered miserably.

"Aedan would never... I know he's done some questionable things, but he is not a murderer."

"He is trained as an assassin," Fergus said brokenly.

"As am I. Regardless, he has never killed a man who did not deserve it," Nathaniel said pointedly. "I cannot believe for one second that Alistair would have done something to deserve this."

"No-one can. Gentlemen, if you would please keep this to yourselves for now. I do not wish our suspicions to become public knowledge, until we know what is going on." Eamon said. The others nodded their agreement.

"I need a stiff drink," Fergus said suddenly, getting to his feet.

"Right behind you," Nathaniel agreed, following the Teyrn out of the door. The two men had long since gotten over their differences, after Nathaniel saved Fergus' life and they agreed that Rendon Howe had deserved to have his cowardly throat slit by Aedan. It would be little comfort, but they understood each other well enough.


Nathaniel was awake when the knock at his door came, he rarely slept these days. It was an urgent knock, the kind that just could not be ignored. He opened the door to find Fergus standing there looking harried. He frowned, it was the middle of the night. What else could have happened? Before he could ask, Fergus had all but dragged him along the hall, urging him to 'Just come.' He followed Fergus to the small chapel within the Palace, where a vigil had been kept for two days. It was where King Alistair lay, while preparations were made for the pyre. Two Templar guards had been on watch at all times.

They arrived to find Eamon and Teagan and a very upset looking Mother.

"What has happened?" Nathaniel asked, looking around.

"The worst. The body, it is gone."

"What do you mean, gone?" Fergus demanded.

"It is gone. See for yourself."

The two men entered the room, and indeed the stone slab upon which Alistair had been resting was empty. Nathaniel looked around and on either side of the altar the templar guards lay prone. He walked over to the nearest one, pulling his helmet off and listening close. He could hear the man's shallow breathing. "They're alive," he said, noticing a wooden cup spilled next to the man's hand. He picked it up, a small amount of it's contents remained. Ale, he noted, but something was off. He knew he was being watched, but he had to know. He dipped a finger in the remaining liquid, touching it to his tongue and tasting it. He thought for a moment, then spat next to the body.

"Adficio torporum. A sleeping draught, Adds a little spice to the ale," Nathaniel said, "These men were drugged. Far too easily, it seems. They will awaken in time, when the poison wears off."

"Something is very wrong here," Fergus announced, echoing everyone's thoughts. With the King dead, and now missing, Ferelden was going to have a lot of problems when word got out about this.