Here's a short little prologue for the fic I've just started. I thought it might be interesting to see how the story of Dragon Age: Origins would have progressed if certain events had happened differently. If I get a good response and continue, you'll see what I mean. Enjoy.
The lack of travellers on the road to Redcliffe had been the first sign of trouble. The second had been when they found two soldiers that Marie recognized patrolling the border. She hadn't hesitated in slicing their heads from their necks, as she would do with any bearing the colours of Howe, all until she left one of her daggers in the snake's own back.
The thought of his leaking corpse almost made her smile in the centre of camp, gazing at the slowly building embers. Zevran and Leliana would be back from their scouting trip soon. The argument had been that their usual group of four would have attracted too much attention, though how an Antivan elf walking around with a red headed woman would be more subtle Marie wasn't sure. She had been a little relieved when they decided on that course, however. The events of the last few months had left her ill at ease with nobility, despite her own roots. As a young Cousland she had been brought up to act with good will and diplomacy. She wasn't sure if she was capable of that anymore and didn't want to test herself in Redcliffe.
Marie didn't notice Wynne approach until the mage sat beside her and placed a warm cup into her hands.
"Herbal tea, my dear, for the aches and pains you've been trying to hide," she scolded with a gentle smile. Marie chuckled at her friend's words and took a sip. Despite the endless training she had undergone with the soldiers of Highever, nothing had prepared her for the months of travelling across Ferelden.
"I must ask, why have we only just come to Redcliffe? Arl Eamon is an important figure in Ferelden, I am surprised you didn't seek his help sooner." Marie sighed, having expected that question to come from someone. She was glad it finally came from Wynne and not Alistair. Her fellow Grey Warden had obviously noticed her reluctance to speak of Redcliffe and had not mentioned it since Lothering.
"When Howe betrayed my family and the Couslands were declared traitors to the crown, no one spoke out to defend us, not Arl Eamon...not Teag-" Marie caught herself and swallowed the lump in her throat. Wynne must have noticed the slip but left it alone.
"He might not have been able, child, you've heard the rumours yourself about his illness."
"Maker forgive me but I hope that is the reason, otherwise the whole Landsmeet really did turn away from us..."
Wynne opened her mouth to reply but her attention was drawn over Marie's shoulder. The rogue turned around to see Zevran and Leliana approaching the camp. She was relieved to see them return, until she could clearly see their expressions. Alistair saw them too and left the gloves he was repairing next to his bed roll.
"Well, how's the Arl? Is he recovered?" The blonde grey warden asked until Wynne raised a hand for silence. The two rogues newly returned were reluctant to speak.
"Zev...please," Marie begged with eyes Zevran had never been able to refuse.
"It seems being the regent's lap dog has its perks," the Antivan slowly explained, "Redcliffe, as well as Highever and Denerim, now belong to Rendon Howe." Marie hissed at the revelation while Alistair was a mask of confusion.
"But Arl Eamon would never allow that, not him or his allies!" the bastard prince protested. Zevran scratched his head awkwardly, unable to meet his friend's eyes. Leliana stepped forward.
"It wasn't possible for them to protest, Alistair, I'm sorry but...Arl Eamon is dead."
Very short, I know but if you like it there will be more. Please review!