Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age or any of its related characters. This is just for my own enjoyment and the potential enjoyment of other fans like me, and no monetary gain was expected or received.
Rating: T
Spoilers: May contain spoilers for Origins, Origins DLC, Awakening, and Dragon Age II as well as the novels The Stolen Throne and The Calling.
Chapter Four: Denerim
"My Lord Regent, there's a…a woman here who wishes to see you."
The guard sounded nervous, but the guards always sounded nervous when they were forced to address him. He swallowed a gulp of ale. "I see no one at this hour, you know that."
"I know, my Lord, and I told her that, but…well…she said she was a…a Grey Warden."
He actually gaped for a moment, and then burst out laughing. "Well, man, by all means, show the Grey Warden in."
He stood up and crossed to the hearth, chalice in hand. With his back to the door he could not know who walked in through it, and yet he knew who it would be. He'd sensed something about her in their brief meeting before the battle.
"Gutsy of you, to come to me like this," he said, when he heard her step. "What's the plan? Kill me? Plead with me?"
"The latter. I know you think the Grey Wardens are traitors, but I am here to tell you exactly what our plans are now that there's only two of us left. They don't include Orlais."
"Heartening. Have a seat."
"Thank you, I prefer to stand."
"Humph. As you will." He turned and crossed over to the drinks table. "Will you have something?"
"Thank you, no."
"Come now, it's not poisoned."
"I didn't think - thank you, I'll have whatever you're having."
He poured two small glasses of rich, amber liquid and gave her one. She took it, her eyes never leaving his face, and took a sip. She gagged, her throat on fire.
He laughed at her. "Second sip goes down better," he said, and gulped his glass at one blow.
"Thank you, I think I've had enough," she said, when he had her breath again. She put her glass down on the sideboard.
"Suit yourself. Now tell me. Just what do the mighty Grey Wardens have planned for Ferelden?" He leaned against the wall with his feet crossed at the ankle.
"We are in possession of treaties. Treaties that oblige the assistance of the Circle of Magi, the dwarves of Orzammar, and the Dalish elves. We intend to put these treaties to use. We lost many men at Ostagar; the reinforcements from these treaties will make up for it. Ferelden will be able to defeat the Blight before it is too late to save her."
"I see. I should like to look at these treaties," Loghain said.
"I did not bring them with me. I left them with my fellow Grey Warden."
"Just in case you didn't return?" he asked. She nodded. "Sensible. But how then can I know you're telling me the truth about them?"
"My Lord, I do not know whether the Grey Wardens were part of some Orlesian conspiracy, or whether they simply did not care whether or not the Chevaliers they brought with them stayed in Ferelden permanently. But I, Ser, am Ferelden. Alistair is Ferelden. We have no desire to bring harm to this country. We do not trust the Orlesians any more than you do. But Ferelden needs allies to aid it now. We cannot stand alone."
"I'm not sure I agree with that," he said. "Ferelden does very well on its own."
"Not against the darkspawn," Loghaina said. "The longer they besiege this land, the more likely it is she will never recover. We could be like the Anderfels, tainted so badly that nothing will grow. We must get in front of this as soon as possible, so we can save everything that can be saved."
"So you suggest bringing in these…carefully not Orlesian…foreigners to solve our problems for us."
"The Circle mages are not foreign."
"They might as well be; they know nothing of what it is to live in Ferelden."
"Would you sooner see Ferelden burn than reach out a hand for help?"
"Hmm, perhaps not. But I will need more than just your assurances that you mean this nation no harm. So how do we do this, then? How do you prove it to me that you have Ferelden's best interests at heart?"
He walked up very close to where she stood while he said this. She was made nervous by his proximity, and his very great size, but did her best not to show it.
"I propose you come with us, and see for yourself," she said, and tried hard not to let her voice quaver.
He laughed. "So you would take me hostage to prove I may trust you?"
"You would not be a hostage. How could I hope to overpower you? If you are fearful, you may bring whatever protection you desire. A full complement of guards, if you wish."
"Ha! Persuasive. But I may need more than that."
She couldn't help it. She gulped. "What more do you need?"
"I need you," he said, and it was her worst nightmare come to life. She had thought she had prepared herself for this eventuality, but now she thought she might faint. Then, he continued speaking, just as if she hadn't turned white as a sheet at his words. "Not this Alistair. You will be in charge. Otherwise, I'm not going near this operation of yours."
She staggered. Was it relief she felt, or only surprise? "Alistair…doesn't seem to have much inclination to lead. I've been making all the decisions up 'til now, even before the battle."
"Good. Now. How long do I have to prepare?"
"I told my companions to give me three days, unless they, you know…saw my head on a pike or something."
"Excellent. It won't take me as long as that. You can have my bed tonight: I'll be busy. First order of business, I suppose, is repealing the bounty on Grey Wardens." He ushered her into another room, where there was an oversized bedstead.
"I don't have to sleep here…I'd be fine in the stables," she said.
"Nonsense. Besides, it will give the servants something to gossip about. I don't give them many such opportunities and the poor souls do so love to do it. Are you afraid for your reputation?"
"I'm an elf. I have no reputation," she said, before she could stop herself.
"Then there's nothing to worry about, is there? Get some sleep."
She wondered, still, whether she could trust him enough to actually sleep, and in his bed no less. This was a man who had wanted her dead up until but a few moments ago. But perhaps he hadn't, not really. Perhaps he had only thought there was a possibility she needed to die, not a certainty. He seemed the kind of man who would act on possibilities, particularly if the risks were big. She lay down, fully armored, and listened as he went about his business in the sitting room. After some long time, she began to drowse.
That was when he came back and stood in the bedroom door. "What would you have done," he said, "had I not explained exactly what I meant when I said 'I need you?'"
"I needed an ally. I would have done whatever you wanted me to do."
"Hmph. Interesting. I'll have to keep that in mind. Good night."
