Chapter 3: A Restless Night

Sleep would not come easily to Solona Amell tonight, her mind was far too busy, the kidnapping of the Orlesian Wardens, the talking darkspawn, even Alistair's presence was distraction. It seemed that despite all efforts, Solona would just have to rebuild the order from scratch.

The warden mage sighed; it was just another problem she had to deal with.

The preparations were now underway for the joining, which would take place tomorrow evening. Mhari, Anders and Oghren would have this one final night to rest, and in Mhari and Oghren's, case come to a decision.

She informed the two warriors that this would be their last chance to turn back, there would be no repercussions should they decide to leave. The joining was dangerous, if either decided that they did not want any part of it, they could leave now.

Anders would take the joining whether he was ready or not, if he tried to run now, the Templars would likely catch him again, and given what Ser Rylock said, they were looking to hang him this time, not simply take him back to the tower.

The wardens were his only escape now.

Solona shivered, she could not help but think of her own joining, she had been one of three recruits then, Daveth a pick pocket from Denerim had not survived the taint, ser Jory, a knight from Highever, had panicked and tried to leave. Duncan, Solona's predecessor had killed the man for that refusal.

Solona was not sure that she could bring herself to do that, if one of the recruits panicked, she wasn't sure if she could do what needed to be done.

Fortunately, Zev had volunteered to stand with her, she had given him specific orders as the joining was concerned.

The recruits would leave either as Grey Wardens, or not at all.

She knew that she could depend on the elf to do what she could not.

She could not help but wonder who would survive out of her three recruits?

Even as she descend deeper into the vigil's dungeons, looking for recruit number four.

Apparently a thief had been caught sneaking around the keep a few days before she had arrived, it had taken four of the Orlesian wardens to capture him, and what was more interesting than that, was the fact that he had managed to blacken one of the warden's eyes.

The private who had told her the story had said that the Orlesians had even considered recruiting the man, so impressed had they been with his skills.

The story had intrigued the warden mage, she found that she wanted to see this thief for herself, it was for this reason that she now made her way to the dungeons, if this man was as tough as the other wardens had claimed, then perhaps he could yet prove useful to those he had tried to steal from.

IOI

"Who is he?"

Nathaniel glared at the cold blooded murderess who had slain his father. He was not impressed by what he saw, pale skin, dark hair, spectacles, how in the Maker's name had such a woman murdered his Father?

You shouldn't underestimate her, he chided himself, she is a mage, and far more cunning then she appears to be.

"He would not give his name commander," the guard on duty informed her, "but he is clearly no ordinary burglar. The Seneschal asked to know your decision on this matter, he is eager to hear what you intend to do with this man."

Nathaniel almost chuckled at that, he suspected that he would be dead in the morning, from what he had heard about this Solona Amell is that she did not take prisoners, his Father, Teyrn Loghain, and many others during the Blight had died beneath this woman's blade.

He did not court death, but recognized that it was the likely outcome of this meeting.

Well if she expected him to beg for mercy that would not happen.

All he had left now was his pride.

The guard left, the mage woman opened his cell, she stood before him without fear.

The woman's audacity enraged him.

"So here you are," Nathaniel snorted, "Destroyer of the Blight, and Vanquisher of all evil, aren't you supposed to be ten feet tall with lightning bolts shooting out of your eyes?"

"I'm sorry to disappoint you," Solona said dryly, "If I knew I had to impress a common thief, I would have tried to dress up."

Nathaniel chuckled bitterly, "I just thought my Father's killer would be…well…more."

Solona's eyes narrowed in confusion, "And your Father was?"

The man rose, his face mere centimeters from hers.

"I am Nathaniel Howe; my Father ruled these lands until you murdered him. Tell me, do you remember my Father at all?"

Howe, Solona shuddered, this was Rendon Howe's eldest son. She should have known. His face resembled his Father's quite closely.

Rendon Howe had been a monster; she refused to see his death as anything but a public service.

"Your Father was a traitor," She said coldly.

That only served to anger the man more.

"My Father served the Hero of Riverdane, and fought against the Orlesians. He did what he could to defend our homeland."

Solona snorted, she did not have a high opinion of Rendon Howe, the man was a parasite, he used the chaos Loghain caused to advance himself. He tortured and maimed innocent people in Loghain's name.

Solona had lost no sleep over the man's death.

"Is that why you returned," she asked to avenge your Father?"

"I came here," Nathaniel growled, "I thought to set a trap to kill you, but…but when I got here. I…I just wanted to collect some of my family's things. The Howe's are pariahs now. I just wanted to get something back," the man chuckled mirthlessly, "and now you get to decide my fate, ironic."

Solona pursed her lips; she could not help, but feel a little sorry for the man.

"Did you know what your Father was doing?" she asked.

"No, I have been in the Free Marches for years," Nathaniel glared at her, "look I know there was a war, and to the victors go the spoils, but that should not be a reason to destroy my entire family."

Solona tended to agree, there was no evidence to suggest that the man had any part of his Father's mad schemes. She did not want to punish him for simply being Arl Howe's son.

"I understand we had a bit of trouble capturing you?" she asked.

"My time abroad was not spent chasing skirts and drinking wine," the man said bitterly, I learned many things, scouting, hunting…poisons," he grinned predatorily, "If I had been a little more careful you may not have survived our first encounter."

Solona flinched, but did not back down, veiled threats did not scare her.

"Perhaps," Solona shrugged, "Though revenge is not the most profitable of ventures. If you care so much about your family name, I'm surprised you did not return to try and redeem it."

Another bitter chuckle escaped Nathaniel's lips.

"Why yes, I should go and join King Alistair's service immediately," he replied sarcastically, "I'm sure he and his Cousland queen would gladly give a Howe another chance."

Once again another fair point.

Despite his family name, Solona found herself intrigued, she sensed none of the arrogant ambition that she had seen so clearly in the boy's Father. Nathaniel was simply lashing out at the death of his parent, Solona did not blame him, but she suspected that Elissa would not hesitate to see Nathaniel hanged; she had viewed the Howes as enemies of her family and the nation.

Unless she chose to act, then it was highly likely Nathaniel Howe would not see another sunset.

She sent word to the Seneschal; she knew what needed to be done.

IOI

"Did you know this is Nathaniel Howe, "She asked the Seneschal?

"A Howe," the older man grunted, "I'm not surprised that they turned up again. The Howe's can be implacable enemies commander."

"Yes," Solona nodded, "something that the darkspawn will soon see, I intend to invoke the right of conscription."

What!" Nathaniel's eyes widened in shock.

"Commander are you sure," Varel looked at her like she had just sprouted horns, "the right of conscription, on the prisoner."

Solona nodded, she was sure.

"No," Nathaniel growled, "I won't accept this, hang me first."

"You may die in the joining Mister Howe," Solona growled, "but some chance is better than no chance yes? Is that not better than hanging?"

Nathaniel paused, considering her words, "Hard to say," He admitted, "Do you tend to want wardens who want you dead?"

"Ferelden needs wardens now, more than ever," the warden mage informed him, "I'll take my chances."

Nathaniel shook his head, "You are a very strange woman."

You have no idea," Solona said with a smirk, "try to get some rest ser, you will definitely need it."

She left him them, Varel following in her wake.

Nathaniel sat down, he…he still could not believe it.

The mage was truly a strange woman.

IOI

Night settled over Vigil's Keep, in their respective rooms Ser Mhari and Oghren slumbered peacefully. Nathaniel Howe, slept fitfully, nightmares of his family begging for him to save them haunted his dreams.

Solona found herself wandering the halls of the Keep. Guards saluted as she passed them, but for the most part she ignored them.

The nightmares had been bad tonight, she dreamed of being buried deep beneath the ground, the only sound the cry of the old gods ringing in her ears, a song she realized that came from her own throat.

That realization snapped her awake, she could not sleep after that.

So now she wandered, her thoughts always going back to the same place, the newest occupant of the Royal Palace.

Lucian.

Solona found herself standing before a statue of Andraste; she bowed her head in prayer, asking for some king of sign that she had done the right thing.

There were so many things that needed her attention right now.

One of her wardens had not been at Vigil's Jeep during the attack; a warden officer named Kristoff had left to investigate reports of strange darkspawn raids throughout the arling. No one had heard from him in almost two weeks. He needed to be found, lest he walk into a trap. The talking darkspawn she had met here had set her on edge; something had changed in the monsters. This Kristoff needed to be warned.

Then there was the matter of the Vigil itself. The Keep was in poor repair, Rendon Howe had been too greedy to see it built up right again. Fortunately, King Bhelen of Orzammar had sent her a team of dwarven masons, she had spoken with their leader Voldric, he needed time, resources, and coin to fix the Keep, but assured her that it was possible.

Solona agreed many of the Banns and Arl's had donated money to aid her in her endeavors, coin was no object, she told the dwarf to use whatever he needed.

Then there was the letter that had arrived from Orlais. Apparently the Divine herself had requested Solona's presence in Val Royeaux; they expected her to arrive by months end.

The Divine wanted to see her, personally.

This was a shock to say the least, the Divine could not technically order a grey warden to do anything, but it would be rude to deny the leader of all Andrastians in Thedas. Solona would have to make the trip, she could not afford to give anyone anymore ammunition against her rule here. She knew that many in the Chantry disagreed with the concept of a mage ruling over any lands, magic was to serve, not rule. She would have to convince the Divine that she was no threat. She would leave Varel in charge of the wardens until she returned, provided she had not chosen a lieutenant by then. Zev would accompany her; she did not intend to go alone into a possible hostile Orlais.

A wolf-whistle behind her drew her attention; she turned glaring to find Anders standing there.

"Do you really think Andraste was that much of a looker," he asked, "You don't think she was…I don't know…a barbarian?"

Solona smiled wanly, "It is an icon Anders, and I don't think it was meant to be realistic."

The other mage shrugged, "She is just kind of cute for a prophet. That is all I'm saying."

They stood there silently for a time, simply thinking, it was a comfortable silence, strange…for both of them.

Can I ask you a question," Solona said quietly.

"You just did," Anders quipped, but fell silent when he saw the look on her face, "Of course," he finally replied.

"Why?" she asked.

"Why?"

"Why run," Solona clarified, "so many escape attempts, why try and run from the circle?"

Anders snorted, "Don't tell me you never thought about it?"

"Of course, but I never…"

"Because we should not have to be locked up in such places," Anders growled, "The problem is that everyone thinks we should be; it is like we need permission to be alive. I never asked for this."

"No one does, but…"

"As far as the world is concerned everyone must be protected from us that is all there is thee end. "

"Mages are dangerous Anders," she reminded him, "Look at what Uldred did to the tower."

"But we're not dragons," he complained, "I almost wish Uldred had burned the old place down, let them find another place to corral us like cattle."

"You were not there Anders," she said coldly, "I was. I saw Uldred's depravity first hand."

Her fellow mage fell silent then. They were two different types of people. Anders would never have submitted to Chantry jurisdiction, and Solona ha tried to work through the proper channels, at least until she had tried to help…

She winced.

"One of my friends was a blood mage," she confessed, "I didn't know, yet I aided him still in destroying his phylactery. Knight-Commander Greagoir was ready to make me tranquil, and would have if the wardens had not taken me."

Anders was surprised by her admission, "And you still think they are right, that the Templars can just decide to destroy or minds if we resist them."

"I don't know," Solona sighed, "I…miss my old life there sometimes, but I'm also grateful to be free, to be able to see a world I only read about before. It…it is complicated."

Anders nodded; he understood what it was like to want to be out in the world.

"Is there anything you miss about the tower," she asked, "Anything at all?"

Anders smiled wanly, "my cat."

"You had a cat?"

"Well he wasn't really mine," Anders clarified, "he was just some old mouser who had taken a shine to me when I was locked in solitary," Anders' smile turned sad, "Poor Mister Wiggums."

Solona tried to suppress her giggle, ""Why poor Mister Wiggums," she asked.

"He became possessed by a rage demon," Anders informed her, "some fool playing with demonology had let it out. He took out three Templars before they put him down," Anders smirked then, "I was never more proud of him."

Solona shook her head, "You're a strange one Anders."

His smirk widened into a grin, "I think I shall go inside and find a drink, a toast to Mister Wiggums, may he ever eat mice in the fade."

"Don't stay up too late, you should get some rest; you have a joining to go through tomorrow."

His good cheer faded.

"Yes," he sniffed, "death to all darkspawn, rah, rah rah." He left her then, off to find his drink.

Solona could not help but smile; she had thought the exact same thing when Duncan had first taken her from the tower. Perhaps they were not so different after all.

She would have to tell him after the joining…if he was still around.

Solona frowned, she really needed to stop doing that to herself, and the joining was all in the hands of her recruits now, them and the Maker.

She returned to her bed then, she needed sleep to…

Tomorrow promised to be very busy.