Emerging Players
Silia, the Chasind healer, and her tribe had been kind to Fergus during the months it took him to heal his broken body. To walk again. To be able to defend himself. But, he had nothing to give them in gratitude. They told him of the aftermath of Ostagar, a battle that happened shortly after Fergus had been injured and left for dead. They knew little else other than the army had been decimated. Thoughts of the state of the rest of Ferelden constantly warred with his sanity. Fergus kept those thoughts down the best he could, but during those quiet moments of reverie in the morning or before sleep, visions of Oren playing with his wooden sword would surface. Fergus and Kayda used to sneak away to work with Oren. He would be a fine swordsman one day … if the worst hadn't already happened to Ferelden.
Fergus wasn't all that religious, but still, he prayed to the Maker every night and every morning to keep his family safe. So much had happened that he didn't know. Did his father and Arl Howe get to Ostagar before or after the rout? How was Kayda doing in Highever? Did mother, Oriana and Oren make it safely to Bann Loren's? The north of Ferelden was far away from the darkspawn down south, but he'd been gone a long time. Fergus heard the wardens at Ostagar say that the Deep Roads snaked everywhere under Ferelden. No where was truly safe from the darkspawn, especially if this was indeed a Blight.
Once Fergus was ready to head home, the Chasind felt the need to move their camp and were going to head west to avoid the Blighted areas of the Wilds. They were willing to guide him to the Imperial Highway where he'd be able to find his way back to Highever. He suggested they check over Ostagar. Armor, weapons and other supplies useful to the tribe were likely discarded there after the battle.
For some reason, they didn't run into a single darkspawn on the way to Ostagar, but they did pass a gigantic hole in the ground. The Chasind scouts assured Fergus that the crater was new. The swamp was already claiming it as a new lake. Several swollen streams from early thaws cascaded over the edges. The circle of waterfalls might have been beautiful if Fergus didn't know it was filling a lake that would mask where the darkspawn burst out of the ground to assault Ostagar.
The entrances to the Deep Roads must have been sealed at the bottom because the hole was filling with water. Unfortunately, the water would be tainted for years. After Fergus shared his theory, Silia told the tribe to mark it for other Chasind who might come along later. The pyramid of boulders with a dead tree leaning away from the lake was their sign for other Chasind to stay away. Silia said that by the time the boulders were overgrown and the tree rotted, the water should be good again. Fergus never ceased to marvel at the practical culture and nature knowledge of the Chasind.
No darkspawn remained at Ostagar either, although the signs of their filth were everywhere. A pyre was found outside the gate to the Wilds. Someone else had been here. Only one pyre likely meant it had been someone important to the visitors. Again, Fergus was loathe to speculate on who that might have been.
He found the king's pavilion destroyed and all of the chests were either destroyed or opened. Nothing of value there for Fergus; however, near the Highever bivouac he did find a relatively good shield and a finely made sword. He encouraged the Chasind to take whatever they could use. Surprisingly, they found a number of things. The Quartermaster's chest was still locked and free of the darkspawn taint. The chest was easily unlocked by the Chasind warriors who were quite skilled in opening even the best of locks.
On a whim, Fergus looked through the warden tent and around the ashes of the bonfire the wardens always kept going. The darkspawn taint fairly well covered everything. Just as he was about to turn away, a glint caught his eye. Something was buried in the dirt below one of the larger destroyed chests. Fergus took a stick to carefully clear away the wrecked chest and found a smaller chest. It was locked in addition to being hidden, but, again, that was no trouble for the Chasind. Once unlocked, Fergus opened it and the Chasind shied away. Inside were several vials of a dark red liquid, a couple vials of a blue liquid, a journal and a few other documents.
"It is old magic, Fergus. You should leave it buried," Silia warned him.
He sighed. "It belonged to the wardens and they've been around for centuries, so I believe you when you say it's old magic." He closed the small chest and found room for it in his backpack. "I met the Warden-Commander. If he were still alive, I have a feeling he'd still have this with him. If there are any other wardens left in Ferelden, they might appreciate this being returned." He smiled at Silia. "I'll be careful with it, I promise."
She laughed. "Well, I do not wish to find you on the Shores of Rebirth with a curse we cannot lift!" Then, she became serious. "Do not open the vials, Fergus. Give it back to these wardens as soon as you can."
"I won't … and I will." He looked up and noticed the tribe had circled around him. They were getting ready to head west and he would be going north on the Imperial Highway. "I find myself filled with sorrow at leaving your company. There are not enough words to tell you how much I appreciate what you've done for me."
Krasond, the chief, walked up. "Stay alert, warrior. You are strong again. You can defend yourself, but the land weeps in despair for what has been done to it. Our time together is over. We must find our new home and you must return to your old one." Then, he handed Fergus one of their prized bone knives, thin as a finger but as long as a forearm, hardened over time, dyed to a dark brown sheen and sharp as any metal knife. "Take this. The land will recognize the bearer as honorable and wise. Call on the land and it will protect you."
Silia handed Fergus a small cloth packet with something hard inside. "Wear this inside your armor, near your heart. It will save you from a death blow once." She grinned and shook her finger up at him. "But not a second time so be careful!"
"You honor me with these gifts. Thank you." He looked up and saw the tribe lined up in a row leading to the north gate. He slipped the knife into the concealed sheathe in the new pair of boots he'd just found and put the packet into an inner pocket. They each touched him as he walked away. Silia told him that he must not look back or be cursed. Fergus didn't believe in their magic, but in respect, he did as she asked him and walked forward, north into a Ferelden he wasn't sure he'd know any longer.
The ship carrying Anora was long gone by the time Loghain and the others reached the docks. Several other Orlesian ships were pulling out of the harbor as well. However, one ship was stopped and quite a few chevaliers were captured and imprisoned in Fort Drakon. When they headed back to the palace, they saw a huge blaze coming from the market district. It was Eamon's Denerim estate. Servants were crowded around and said that the Guerrins were on their way to Redcliffe, but no one had seen Eamon's seneschal, Denoel. Poor man probably perished trying to save Eamon's trinkets and toys. Eamon was on Loghain's short list, but he had more immediate problems to organize. No doubt, just what Eamon's counting on, was Loghain's thought as they helped with the water brigade. Eamon had fled to Redcliffe with Teagan. Loghain wasn't the only one who thought that suspicious.
As far as his prisoners in Fort Drakon, chevaliers were well-trained to keep secrets and Loghain would only authorize torture to go so far. He had to admit to himself that he just looked the other way with Rendon Howe much too often. In any case, one of Loghain's advisors told him that chevalier orders were very compartmentalized. The ones he had in the Fort Drakon prison were likely unaware of any orders beyond killing Fereldens. Loghain ordered their executions when it became clear no information was forthcoming. Those executions were very well-attended. Most of Denerim took a break from their troubles and turned out to sneer and cheer.
A bit of good news was that the darkspawn seemed to be heading back underground … well, good for the topside and not so much for the dwarves. King Bhelen immediately called back the warriors he'd sent to help the wardens. The rumor soon spread that the Archdemon would be making a re-appearance. No one would know where or when. Thanks again to bloody warden secrets, Loghain had no idea what that meant. He left that research to Kayda.
Loghain had long ago drawn up martial order plans in case of a disaster and the Landsmeet approved them, as they so often did, without reading them. Of course, it helped that Anora put the item at the end of the agenda on the last day. It confirmed the order of command: King, Queen, Teryn of Highever, Teryn of Gwaren, Arl of Redcliffe, Arl of Denerim, Arl of Amaranthine, Arl of South Reach … and so forth, to re-establish order in Ferelden. There were damn few alternatives to Loghain's position of command. Even though he was technically a warden … and made it clear that once the emergency was over he would relinquish command and return to the wardens … few had any concerns about Loghain's leadership in this crisis. Kayda made noise like she was the Teryna of Highever now, so she should be in command. However, Bann Sighard convinced her that her damnable pride needed to be funneled to the darkspawn while Loghain handled the army and reorganization.
Begrudgingly, Kayda extended Loghain's leave from the wardens, but only after Loghain had released all the papers and stores he'd had taken from the warden compound in Denerim. Unfortunately, Howe had destroyed a good deal of it. She did find instructions and components of the foul Joining potion. After helping to get Denerim in some sort of order, Kayda announced she would go on a recruiting mission. He'd heard she'd already gotten some wardens from those who were blight-sick. Of course, not all of them survived the Joining.
After three weeks, with the people barely able to navigate from the main gate to the market district, Vaughan Kendells showed his face. "Loghain, everything is in order enough to call a Landsmeet. We need to decide on many things, not the least of which is who will be ruler of Ferelden." When the wardens and their companions infiltrated the Arl of Denerim's estate to rescue Anora from Howe, Vaughan Kendells had been found in the dungeons of the Arl of Denerim's estate. Kayda released him. It would have helped everyone if she'd just killed him along with Rendon.
"Kendells, I would think you have a more immediate concern," Loghain growled.
"What can be more important than the proper leadership of our country?!" The ass must have thought he'd have a claim on the throne.
Loghain strode over to Kendells. "You are the interim Arl of Denerim and, to my knowledge, no one has seen you since the battle! Your city lies in ruins! Your people are starving, sick and injured! And, you think anyone cares about who's butt sits on the throne?!"
Kendells straightened his clean and pressed tunic. "I am the Arl of Denerim, as set forth in my father's will and I know I am not the only noble who is concerned with your continued authority in Ferelden!"
Narrowing his eyes, Loghain stepped up closer to Kendells. He had almost a head on the boy. To Vaughan's credit, he didn't cower. "You are the interim Arl of Denerim until the Landsmeet puts you in place as the permanent Arl." Loghain paused a moment then turned and walked to the other side of a long table filled with reports, maps and requests. "I fully recognize that I am both the Teryn of Gwaren and a Grey Warden. Both of us hold hollow titles, at the moment, Kendells. I suggest you help me fix Denerim and I promise to add my voice to yours when your petition comes up."
Kendalls smirked. "As if that would hold any influence any longer."
Loghain's initial burst of anger quickly cooled. He raised an eyebrow. "Or, you can shirk your duties and lose your petition. My voice won't be the one to condemn you when the nobles' estates remain barricaded behind rubble and refuse that you, as the acting Arl of Denerim, have not seen fit to have cleared. It is, of course, your choice … Your Grace."
The boy had no idea how to be a useful member of society. "I … I see." His father pampered him and protected him from judgement for his distasteful acts. Kendells looked at the table. "Which stack has concerns of the nobles?"
"That one." Loghain pointed to the tallest stack on the table. "You take care of those and I'll handle the rest, but I warn you, abuse of anyone … even elves … will not be tolerated." He pulled out a ledger sheet. "This tells you how much coin you have to pay workers to handle the demands of the nobles." Kendells took the ledger and Loghain grabbed his wrist. "That coin is to pay your workers … after your own coffers are exhausted. I will hear if this is not done. The commoner has gained a voice with this crisis and they are not afraid to use it."
Kendells shock was evident. "You think we would hear the voice of a commoner … or a … an elf … over a noble's?!" Kendells growled, "Or, are you just feeling guilty for selling all our elf servants to Tevinter?"
Loghain's sneer was cruel. It never worked to play to Loghain's guilt. "How many noble voices do you think remain, boy? Howe is dead. Cousland, his wife, daughter-in-law and grandson are dead. Fergus is likely dead. Your father is dead … rumor has it by your order. Your toadies Braden and Jonaley are dead, their heads on darkspawn spears in front of your estate. I wonder, did they come to you for refuge and you refused to open your gates to them? Franderel died trying to carry a chest of some of his more precious art to the docks. He was dismembered and stuffed in the chest. By order of the Landsmeet of Dragon 9:28 August, martial order rules over Denerim now, Kendells. It is my decision whose voice is heard and I put a lot of weight on the testimony of human, dwarf and elf who fought by my side rather than hide cowering behind their tall, thick walls and iron gates. To answer your second question, yes, I feel guilty for allowing elves to be sold into slavery, but I am trying to atone for my sins. I suggest you do the same … prove to me that you are no longer the disgusting and foul prick you were under your father's influence."
Both Loghain and Kendells then noticed Ser Cauthrien standing in the doorway trying to avoid smiling. "General Loghain, five ships have been outfitted and we are ready to depart within the hour for Cumberland, Kirkwall, Ostwick, and Hereinia to locate and repatriate refugees that fled Ferelden during the Blight."
"Ser Cauthrien, I demand you bear witness to my treatment at the hands of this … this man." Kendells puffed out his chest.
Cauthrien gave him the best blank face Loghain had ever witnessed. "I saw no ill treatment here, Vaughan Kendells; however, I have witnessed you on numerous other occasions. Shall I bear witness to those? Let's see … on your way here this morning …"
A number of emotions played out on Kendells' face. However, to his credit, the hopelessness of his continued indignation won out. "Never mind." Kendells grumbled and sat to read the reports of the nobles.
"Have you loaded extra clothing and food?" Loghain wanted to make sure these people realized they weren't being arrested. Ferelden would need manpower to rebuild and defend herself.
"Yes, General, at least what we could spare. And, the Chantry is sending Ser Irminric and several other Templars to aid with any apostates who wish to return."
"Good. Irminric knows to be reasonable. Maker knows we could use twenty more like Wynne here. Poor old woman is working herself to death." Loghain noticed Kendells stand and head toward the door with several parchments in his hand. "Where are you going?"
"Not that I need to ask your permission, but I'm going to see what's left of Eamon's estate and Franderel's estate …" he glared at Loghain. "And, see about hiring some workers."
Once he was gone, Cauthrien cautiously asked, "Are you certain it's a good idea to trust him?"
Loghain shrugged. "No one ever has, Cauthrien. Let's give him a chance to show his quality … or he will be locked up in Fort Drakon." He nodded toward where Kendells was sitting. "He was also reading through the Landsmeet order which gives me the right to execute anyone caught looting or stealing, be they elf, commoner or noble. Do you still have someone following him?"
"Yes, General, of course." Cauthrien could always be trusted to honor Loghain's order and go beyond.
"And, the ship to Minrathous?" Loghain asked quietly.
Cauthrien leaned closer. "Our best scouts are headed to the slave markets to see what they can do."
"The Queen will be put out with me when she sees how much of the treasury I send with you to buy back our elves, but it must be done." Loghain leaned against the table and sighed.
"Her Majesty will be home soon, General," Cauthrien said with a small smile. "And, she will understand. Now, by your leave, I have a ship to Kirkwall to board."
"Then, Maker keep you safe, Cauthrien. Bring home our people." Loghain hesitated a moment too long. He thought he would actually embrace the woman he considered another daughter, but she bowed and was out the door before he could. Just as well, Loghain thought, it might have been too great a shock to her.
AN: Thanks to all reviews, favorites and follows!
The Goldman, thank you for your review! :) You'll have to wait and see about that poor dragon host of the Archdemon and its bits and blood. ;)
Sironblood1, thanks for your generous review! As for poor Alistair in DA2, we fanfic writers get the freedom of creativity without the bonds of game design. Yes, Loghain has a lot to atone for … but so does everyone, Kayda included. DA has a very rich world. In that regard, this AU is exploring a branch of "what if" that the game wasn't able to do, understandably so. It might have made an interesting optional DLC, though. ;)