Alistair felt more than a little nervous crossing the bridge from the mainland out to where Redcliffe Castle perched on its offshore island. Not just because of Jowan was trotting along in mabari form at his heels, but also because he was worried about what state they'd find Arl Eamon in, and how things would go once they'd cured him. If they succeeded in curing him, that is; there was no guarantee that the ashes would work as they hoped, as legend claimed they would.
A guardsman escorted them into the Great Hall, where they found Bann Teagan standing talking with the guard captain. He saw them and a look of relief washed across his face. He said a final word to the captain, dismissing him, then hurried over to greet them.
"Arren, Alistair... I'm go glad to see you both again. And all your companions," he added, making a shallow half-bow toward Morrigan, Wynne, Sten, and Oghren.
"How is your brother the Arl?" Arren asked.
"He is holding on. I beg of you, tell me, have you found any hope of a cure for him?" Teagan asked anxiously.
"We found the Urn of Andraste," Alistair informed him. "We've brought back a pinch of the ashes. If that does not save him, nothing will."
"Oh, thank the Maker!" Teagan exclaimed. "I have a healer standing by to attempt to use them to heal him. Please, follow me," he urged, and turned and hurried off toward the family quarters upstairs. Alistair and Arren hurried along in his wake, the rest of their party – including the two mabari hounds – accompanying them.
The look an Arl Eamon's face when he heard of Isolde's death would haunt Alistair for some time, he knew. By the way Jowan was pressed up against his leg, ears lowered and tail pressed between his legs, he too was aware of the desolation in the Arl's face at the news that his beloved wife had died.
Arren quickly excused himself and his party, and they withdrew back downstairs to the Great Hall. They were joined there some little time later by Bann Teagan.
"My brother will join us in a while," he told them quietly. "He needs some time to grieve, first, and to compose himself. This has all come as a great shock to him; I'm not sure he really believes it all yet. Not Isolde's death, nor what I had to tell him of events here at the castle and the village while he was unconscious. He fell asleep a happily married man, Arl of a thriving Arling, and woke a widower with more than half his people grievously dead. I fear it will be some days before it truly sinks in."
Arren nodded understandingly. "How have things been here while we were away? I'm sorry it took us so long to return; while tracking down Brother Genitivi we ended up sidetracked into Orzammar and spent far longer dealing with things there than I'd expected. I thought we'd only be there a day or two; it ended up taking several weeks," he explained with a grimace.
"We heard some rumour of that here, recently – you crowned a new king for them, did you not?"
Arren nodded solemnly. "Yes, King Bhelen Aeducan. He has promised us support in combating the darkspawn."
Oghren spoke up. "If you have any dealings with the dwarves, watch your pocket – and your back. Bhelen's a shifty one."
Teagan nodded, looking at the dwarf curiously. "I don't believe we've met before – you're new to Arren's party since he was last here?" he asked questioningly.
Oghren nodded. "Name's Oghren. I joined up with the elf and his friends when they visited Orzammar. Didn't have any reason to stay behind afterwards, so I decided I might as well stick with him for a while, see a bit of the surface."
"Pleased to meet you," Teagan said, carefully formal as always, then looked curiously at the remainder of their party. "I hesitate to ask... but what has become of the mage you left here with? I had to explain his role in events to my brother, of course; Eamon is going to want to know what became of him. If he was still here, I suspect my brother would invoke judgement against him as Arl and have him put to death for his part in matters here."
Arren spoke up immediately. "We took him to the Circle of Magi. Greagoir and Irving decided it was wisest to put him through his harrowing – he was still an apprentice mage, apparently. He survived it, rather to their surprise, and is now a member of the Circle again. If your brother wishes him punished, he will have to appeal to them; the mage falls within their jurisdiction, not his."
"Of course. I'll tell my brother so," Teagan said, bowing in thanks to the elf.
Alistair admired Arren's answer; truthful, yet somehow still leaving the impression that Jowan was not with them, but instead immured at Kinloch Hold. Arren really had a knack for diplomacy; he was glad the elf had answered, if he'd tried he was sure he'd have just made a mess of things.
"Well, while we wait for my brother, why don't we sit down and eat – or did you have your lunch before arriving here?"
"No, we've been on the road without stopping since breakfast," Arren said. "We'd be pleased to enjoy the hospitality of you and your brother."
Teagan looked pleased, and quickly sent a servant off to notify the kitchen. They were soon sitting down to a sizable lunch, Teagan at one end of the long table, with Arren and Alistair to either side of him, and Morrigan and Zevran to either side of them. Sten sat by Zevran, towering over the elf, with Wynne at the far end of the table, and Oghren between her and Morrigan. Mouse sat on the floor between Teagan and Arren, and Jowan sat where both Alistair and Zevran could feed him tidbits of their food. Zevran did most of the feeding; Alistair was too busy feeding himself, he and Arren both making the usual vast inroads on the food that their Grey Warden metabolisms demanded.
Thankfully with them so obviously busy eating, Teagan kept his questions about their recent exploits to a minimum, instead carrying much of the conversation himself by bringing them up to date on events in the village and castle since their departure. By the sound of it, Alistair thought, he'd been working himself to the bone to keep his brother's demesne going while Eamon was comatose. It couldn't have been an easy job, especially with so many of those who'd normally do the lion's share of the work dead or missing – Eamon's Seneschal, most of his stewards, the majority of his knights, and so forth – and Teagan with no real authority to appoint people to take their places. He had made a couple of cautious temporary appointments – reliant, of course, on Eamon's approval once he recovered – since it had been a choice between that, or vital work going undone.
After eating, they remained at the table, drinking ale and talking. Arren supplied most of the conversation, talking about everything they'd done since leaving Redcliffe. He did a remarkably good job of avoiding any mention at all of Jowan, Alistair noticed, and finally felt himself relaxing. The mage had his head resting on Alistair's leg, while Alistair scratched him idly behind the ears. Mouse was getting a similar treatment from Bann Teagan, and making the most of it, whining appreciatively and turning his head almost upside down as he encouraged the bann to scratch a particularly itchy spot on his jaw.
"He's shedding grey hairs all over your clothing," Arren pointed out, sounding amused. "And if you don't look out he'll be drooling a puddle all over your thigh in a moment."
Teagan laughed. "I'll survive it. Anyway, I knew what I was getting into when I started scratching a mabari; I have met more than a few of them before, you know," he said, eyes twinkling cheerfully. "And your Mouse is a lovely hound. Quite well trained, too, or so I heard from Ser Perth – he was very enthusiastic in his descriptions about how good a job your hound did at dismembering skeletons."
Arren smiled. "Like all hounds, he enjoys playing with bones."
That got a laugh from Teagan, then he nodded toward Jowan. "I see you've acquired another mabari since you were last here. He's magnificent; I've seen very few that large. Is he bound to you, Alistair?"
Alistair smiled affectionately down at the mabari. "Yes, he is," he agreed.
"Such striking eyes, too. What's his name?"
"Briar," Alistair answered easily, the name he and Jowan had settled on after much debate the night before. He'd wanted to call him something like 'Barkspawn' or 'Barksley' or 'Ser Loin', but Jowan would have nothing of it. He'd at least considered the name 'Warden' before turning it down as well, on the grounds that it was too confusing, given how many people referred to Arren by that name already.
Teagan nodded approvingly. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Briar," he said. Jowan raised his head and barked politely at the man, then leaned his head heavily against Alistair's arm.
Before the conversation about hounds could continue further, Arl Eamon strode into the room. He looked old, Alistair found himself thinking – old and tired. Then the man spotted them and drew himself up, becoming more his old self; looking fully in control and ready to do things. He strode over, as they all rose to their feet, and then Teagan performed introductions, explaining with a few words who each of them was.
Arl Eamon listening silently, bowing to each in turn, then at the end turned back to Arren again, and bowed formally to him.
"Grey Warden, I know you did what you had to. I grieve for Isolde, but I believe that had you not acted as you did, it might have been far worse. I am in your debt. Will you permit me to offer you a reward for your service?"
"Thank you, but I need no reward," Arren said courteously. "I merely did what had to be done."
"Know that you have my thanks even so," the Arl replied, with a gracious nod. "Teagan, can you bring me up to date on events since my unfortunate... lapse... began?"
Teagan nodded and gave a lengthy rundown of events beyond Redcliffe since Arl Eamon had fallen ill; he seemed remarkably well-informed, and much of the minutia of political maneuverings he mentioned had little meaning to Alistair, but was obviously significant in some way judging by the seriousness of Arl Eamon's expression as he absorbed it all. Eventually Teagan returned to names Alistair recognized, and news that he could understand the import of. Such as word of Teryn Loghain's most recent activities, aided by Arl Rendon Howe. Finally Teagan's recitation came to an end.
"We have no time to wage a campaign against the Teryn," Eamon said, frowning in thought. "Someone must surrender if Ferelden is to have any chance at fighting the darkspawn. I will spread word of Loghain's treachery, both here and against the king. But it will be but a claim made without proof. Those claims will give Loghain's allies pause, but we must combine it with a challenge Loghain cannot ignore. We need someone with a stronger claim to the throne than Loghain's daughter, the queen."
Bann Teagan frowned. "Are you referring to Alistair, Brother? Are you certain?"
"I would not propose such a thing if we had an alternative. But the unthinkable has occurred. We have little choice... Teagan and I have a claim through marriage, but we would seem opportunists, no better than Loghain. Alistair's claim is by blood. He is King Maric's illegitimate son. He is Cailan's half-brother and has a claim to Ferelden's throne. Ferelden deserves to have a Theirin on the throne... not this common-born usurper or his viper of a daughter."
"I have no interest in becoming king," Alistair said firmly. "I am a Grey Warden. That is all the title I ever desire to carry."
"You have a responsibility, Alistair. Without you, Loghain wins. I would have to support him, for the sake of Ferelden. Is that what you want?" Eamon asked sharply, then continued talking before Alistair could respond. "I see only one way to proceed. I will call for a Landsmeet, a gathering of all of Ferelden's nobility in the city of Denerim. There, Ferelden can decide who shall rule, one way or another. Then the business of fighting our true foe can begin."
"It will take some time to recall my forces and organize our allies," he continued, and turned to look expectantly at Arren. "In the meantime, I suggest you pursue the remainder of the Grey Warden treaties Teagan told me of. We will need all the allies we can get if we are to defeat the darkspawn horde."
Arren was frowning slightly, but nodded in agreement. "We have already secured agreement from the Circle of Magi and the dwarfs of Orzammar," he said. "I'd like to take some time to resupply, and rest overnight, then tomorrow we will depart for the Brecilian Forest to locate the Dalish."
"Of course," Arl Eamon said graciously. "I'll arrange for rooms for you all. Teagan, could you please oversee their reprovisioning? I believe I should go and spend some time with Connor. He is sadly changed, and I mislike that he will have to be sent to the Tower so soon," he said regretfully. "He and I will barely have time to talk before he must leave. A word with you as I go," he added.
"Of course, brother," Teagan agreed, and followed him over to the door, talking quietly to him a moment before returning to where Arren and his group waited. "He asked after the mage, as I thought he would," he said. "I told him what you'd said about Jowan being in the jurisdiction of the tower now. He is not pleased. I suspect he'll spend part of this evening writing a letter to Knight-Commander Greagoir, to go with Connor to the tower tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" Alistair asked, startled. "You mean arrangements have already been made?"
"Yes," Teagan said tiredly. "After the events that took place here, the chantry made it clear that Connor was to be sent to the tower as soon as reasonably possible; a templar is being sent to take him there, and should arrive tomorrow morning. At least my brother woke in time to see Connor beforehand. I don't know how I'd have explained it to him if Connor was already gone. It's a heavy blow for him, loosing his wife to blood magic and his heir to the Circle," he said, then shook his head and straightened up. "Right. Reprovisioning. What do you need?"
"Food, mainly. Potions. Some time with a proper smith to repair some of our gear," Arren said.
Teagan nodded. "No problem. Let me find a servant to show everyone else to the guest rooms first, and then we'll start rounding up everything."
Arren nodded agreement, and in a remarkably short time Alistair found himself settled in a small guest room, with nothing to do until supper that evening. He stripped out of his armour, threw himself down on the bed, and sighed in relief. A moment later he smiled, as Briar shimmered and turned back into Jowan. He moved sideways and patted the spot beside him, and Jowan gratefully joined him on the too-narrow bed.
"Tired?" Alistair asked as the mage snuggled up against him.
"Exhausted. I'm fine while I'm a hound, but once I switch back... it all catches up to me. I'm going to need a nap if I have to put in another appearance during dinner."
"Sounds like a plan to me," Alistair said, then grimaced. "Let me just make sure I locked the door; we wouldn't want anyone walking in and discovering two men where they were expecting a man and a mabari."
Jowan snorted softly in amusement as Alistair clambered past him to get off the bed and go check. By the time he'd dropped the bar in its braces and returned to the bed, the mage was already drifting off to sleep. Alistair smiled, and snuggled up next to him. He'd nap too, and maybe tonight they'd both feel well enough rested to take some time to enjoy the luxury of a real bed again
Jowan rolled over, and opened his eyes, frowning in puzzlement. "Alistair..."
"Yes?"
"Was I hearing things wrong while I was a mabari, or did the Arl want you to be king?"
