Wow! Thank you so much for all the favorites, the alerts, and the reviews! You all are amazing motivation to stay on my posting schedule, and more importantly, my writing schedule. :) Kudos to Sianie and Sarah1281 for identifying Granny. Keep the reviews coming, please - constructive criticism and suggestions always welcome.
Thora was in her office with the keep's seneschal, Varel, late that afternoon, looking over reports from around the Arling. "The new settlement in the Blackmarsh seems to be thriving," she remarked.
"Unbelievable, really, after all the years that land lay cursed. You did an amazing thing dispelling the demon there," Varel said.
There was a knock on the door. Varel got up to answer it. Thora heard one of the servants murmuring to him about some woman waiting to see the Commander. "What is it?" she called out.
Varel turned, but before he could speak, Thora heard the sharp, cold voice from the hallway. "I do not have time for such niceties. The situation is dire, and I must see the Commander this moment."
Thora's jaw dropped. "Come in, Morrigan," she said when she had recovered her voice. "Varel, I suspect we will want to talk in private. Would you mind?"
"Of course, Commander." He bowed, staring openly at Morrigan as he left the room.
The two women stood looking at each other for a moment. "Morrigan," Thora said at last. "You haven't changed a bit."
"Oh, a few things have certainly changed," Morrigan said, flames sparking in her golden eyes. "I now know when I have been lied to."
"What are you talking about?"
"Flemeth has taken my child. Flemeth, whom you told me was dead!" It was the first time Thora could remember hearing Morrigan raise her voice.
"Er, to be fair, I never actually said she was dead," Thora stammered, quailing under the mage's gaze. "I just didn't correct you when you assumed it." Morrigan glared at her. "We thought we owed her a debt! She saved our lives, after all."
Morrigan snorted. "Did it never occur to you to wonder why she saved you?"
"So there would be Grey Wardens left in Ferelden to stop the Blight?" Thora hazarded.
"Indeed. That was one reason," Morrigan said. "Having a grandchild who is an Old God was another one." She studied Thora for a moment, calming somewhat. "I understand that you, also, have a child. And that your former lover has actually acknowledged his parenthood. I did not think he had it in him to be so … stalwart."
Three minutes before the first Alistair slur. The witch was slipping. "Yes," Thora said simply.
"May I ask—do you know your daughter's current whereabouts?"
Thora frowned, wondering what the mage was getting at. "I believe she's in the schoolroom. Why?"
"I have reason to believe my mother was coming here." There was a strange sympathy in the witch's eyes now. "For your child."
"What?! What would she want with Anawyn?" Thora asked, moving swiftly to the door and throwing it open. She looked down the hallway for a servant.
"Has your daughter displayed any aptitude for magic?"
Stunned, Thora turned to the mage. "How do you know that? It's only been in the last couple of months, and we've told no one." Spying one of the junior Wardens, Thora said, "Can you fetch my daughter from the schoolroom, and then see if you can find Anders? Tell him I need him to report to my office immediately." The Warden bowed, and Thora nodded back. Then she turned to Morrigan again. "How do you know about the magic?" she asked again.
"'Twas merely conjecture. There were indications that Flemeth had come this way, and the most likely possibility seemed to me that Flemeth was planning to use your daughter as her new vessel."
Thora stared at Morrigan. So many questions crowded her brain that she couldn't choose one to ask. It was at that moment that she caught sight of Anders's broad-shouldered figure coming down the hall.
"Pet mage?" Morrigan murmured, noting the robes he wore. Then, as Anders came closer and she could see the strong resemblance, she snorted. "I see you have a new Alistair."
Thora rolled her eyes. "Hardly. And no to what you're thinking." She couldn't deny that it had crossed her mind, especially in the early years just after Anders had joined the Grey Wardens. And there was little doubt in her mind that Anders would be willing … but she couldn't bring herself to do that to either of them. Thora knew Anders would never be what she wanted him to be, and he deserved better than to act as another man's proxy. Even though—or perhaps because—she knew she couldn't love him, he had grown to be her closest friend and she trusted him as she'd trusted few people.
He was looking confused as he neared the office door. After glancing curiously at Morrigan, Anders turned his gaze on the dwarf. "Was there some reason you were expecting Anawyn to be in the schoolroom?"
"Because it was supposed to be her lessons day?" Thora's eyebrows raised, concern growing within her.
"According to Dennis, you sent her to her room for the day."
"Why would I do that?"
"Because she ran off to Oghren's for breakfast, apparently."
Thora sighed heavily. "Honestly, Dennis will believe anything. If I sent her to her room for the day every time she ran off to Oghren's, she'd spend the rest of her life in there." She caught her breath. "If she's not in the schoolroom, where is she?"
In a few minutes, the entire keep was mobilized to look for the Commander's daughter. But she was nowhere to be found. Thora was desperately searching the pantries when suddenly she stiffened, remembering her conversation with Anawyn earlier that morning. She took off running down the halls, calling for Xandros.
The elf appeared from a room at the end of the hallway. Xandros was one of the only two Wardens recruited in Thora's first year in Amaranthine to have survived the attacks of the Mother and the Architect, along with the mage Dennis. "Commander?" Xandros asked quietly.
"Xandros, I think Anawyn is trying to walk to Denerim to see her father." He started to speak, but Thora held up a hand. "Will you go see if you can find her? It is possible … there is a woman who may be trying to … take Anawyn. Please keep your eyes out for any signs of … struggle, or, or well, anything that could have happened to her." He nodded, moving swiftly toward the stables. Xandros still had ties to family in the Denerim Alienage, and had become the Wardens' delegate to the Landsmeet. He knew the roads to Denerim better than any, and was the best hunter and tracker in the keep. He would find any trace of Anawyn, if any of them could.
Hailing a passing servant, Thora gave him a list of people to bring to her office. She ran her hands over her face, groaning. Anawyn would have to have picked today, of all days, when she was being hunted by a powerful maleficar, to decide to run away. When Thora got her hands on her daughter … if … She clenched her jaw against the tears that stung at the back of her throat. Crying wouldn't help anyone.
When they were all assembled—Morrigan, Anders, Dennis, Oghren, Varel, and the dwarf Sigrun, who had once been part of the Legion of the Dead—Thora filled them in. When she was done, there was a long silence.
"What do we do now?" Anders asked. His eyes were dark with worry.
Thora was grateful for years of training as soldier and commander. Without them, she'd have been a screaming puddle of fear on the floor right now. She took a deep breath. "Anders and Sigrun, begin preparations for a long campaign. It appears that Flemeth has—" She took a long, shuddering breath. "Has taken my daughter. It may take a long time to track them down." She looked at Morrigan for confirmation, and the witch nodded slowly, once. "Oghren, Dennis, and Varel, you'll be in charge of the keep until we get back. However long it may take." The red-headed dwarf nodded as well, but without any of his usual grunts or hearty commentary. Thora was relieved he hadn't argued with her. "You and I, Morrigan, will leave for Denerim within the hour."
"Why must we go to Denerim?" Morrigan said, in a dread-laced tone that said she already knew.
"To get Alistair." At the mention of the king, Oghren grinned, Anders winced, and Morrigan looked pained. Thora ignored all of them. "He needs to know, and we—" She paused, her voice nearly breaking. "We will need him."