Part IV
Denerim, the largest and grandest city in all Ferelden and the seat of its government. Her many tall spires tower over the citizenry below as they go about the menial chores of their daily lives. Nowhere else in Ferelden can one find such a melting pot of cultures and societies. It is from this large port city that King Alistair Therin rules his country with the aid of his most trusted nobles and advisers. Chief among those is Arl Eamon Guerinn, the lord of Redcliffe.
It was Eamon who raised Alistair since he was a boy, and who, with The Warden, convinced Alistair to become king of Ferelden. Afterward, it was Eamon who guided the king throughout the despair and rebuilding in the wake of the Blight. And now, it is Eamon who impatiently awaits the king's return so that pressing matters of great political significance can finally be addressed.
The arl was locked inside his manor, pacing back and forth in his study while deep in thought. Alistair had come a long way since taking the throne, but his youth and inexperience could still be quite troubling at times. Eamon was constantly pressuring him to accept more responsibilities for his role, but usually these pleas fell on deaf ears.
Alistair would assure the arl that he had everything well in hand, often telling the elder statesman that he worried too much. The king felt that Eamon was too paranoid. "Evil doesn't lurk behind every bush. The people are content for once, and no one is trying to conspire against me." he would say.
But Eamon knew all too well that there was always someone trying to conspire. They would huddle in the dark corners of filthy taverns and construct mad their schemes, just waiting for the right moment to strike. And when they did, it was his job to make sure that Alistair was prepared to deal with the threat.
With the chaos in the northern bannorn, the arl feared that this was such a time. An inventive opportunist could use the unsettled situation to their advantage to gain the upper hand. It was his job to prevent that very thing from happening, especially after all he had worked for to get Alistair this far.
"My lord, I bring news!" cried one of the manor servants as he rushed into the study.
Eamon ceased his pacing and turned to face the young man, "You bring word from Bann Teagan?" he asked.
"I do." the servant replied, "Your brother reports that he and several other lords from the region have arrived in Denerim. They stand ready to support your cause."
"Excellent. With the Maker's grace, we may soon have this problem resolved quickly. Unless, of course, our good king feels the need to tarry longer."
"Forgive me, my lord, but can't you simply call the landsmeet without him?" the servant asked.
The arl gave a long, thoughtful sigh before answering, "If only it were as simple as that. However, Alistair's judgments on the matter at hand are the entire reason for calling the landsmeet. Only he can uphold the legitimacy of those who are making rightful claims to the lands."
"But, my lord, what of the nobles' heirs? Surely it would be far simpler to pass ownership to them."
"Of the nine lords who were lost at Highever, six of them had legitimate heirs to assume their places. Three, though, did not." Eamon explained, "And while it should be a simple enough matter for the king to verify the heirs' claims, the three regions who did not possess heirs could prove to be quite troubling. The governing families' claims may be disputed by any nearby lord who wishes to expand his borders. That, more than anything, is why the landsmeet has been called. Those disputes must be settled quickly and peacefully, before those involved begin to take up arms and decide to settle things for themselves."
"I understand, my lord."
"Good. Now, leave me. I have much to think on before the king's return. Inform me the instant you have any new word."
"Yes, my lord." the servant replied with a deep bow before exiting the study, leaving Eamon alone once more with his thoughts.
"Tell me what happened." The Warden said to his distraught friend as they both walked back over to the remnants of the fire and sat on the large log that lie next to it.
"What is there to tell?" Alistair replied as he shrugged his shoulders, "Dyana said she thinks we need some time apart. That it's her and not me."
"Oh, Alistair. I'm sorry things didn't work out between you two. Not that it matters, but I thought you made a great couple."
"So did I. But apparently, she didn't feel the same way. She thinks we're both too young and inexperienced and she needs to spread her wings so she can find something more out of life; whatever the hell that's supposed to mean."
"It means, she's trying to tell you that she wants out without hurting your feelings."
"But they are hurt. Dwemer, what am I supposed to do? Here I thought everything was fine between us. Then, out of nowhere, she hits me with this." Alistair said with more than a small amount of confused exasperation in his voice.
"It's never an easy thing to go through. Trust me, I've been there." The Warden consoled, giving Alistair a few pats on his shoulder for good measure.
"You? The great ladies man? I find that very hard to believe."
"Very funny. Yes, it's been known to happen to me a time or two."
"Name once."
"Alright." The Warden replied as he rubbed his chin, thinking, "do you remember Arl Redell?"
"Sure, what about him?"
"Well, I used to have this thing for his middle daughter, Aleena."
"The one with the red hair and cute freckles?"
"That's her."
"Really? So what happened between you two?"
"When I was quite a bit younger, about seventeen or eighteen, she and I started seeing each other quite a bit. It was the first time I had ever been in a serious relationship with anyone. She knocked me completely for a loop and I would have sworn I was in love. But then one day she just broke it off. She said she was bored and wanted to move on to something else."
"Just like that? That sounds fairly harsh. So what did you do?"
"There wasn't anything I could do, except feel hurt. I was depressed for weeks and didn't say a word to anyone. Fergus told me that I needed to get my head out of my arse and get over it. But that was always his way. My father, though, had a few better words of advice for me."
"He said to me, 'Son, I know you feel like your life is ruined and that you'll never feel this way again, but the main thing you need to understand is that you were never really in love with her in the first place'."
"Never really in love with her?" Alistair asked, "that seems like an odd bit of advice."
"I thought so too, but he explained that the only thing I loved was how she made me feel. That isn't true love. He told me that real love takes time and that's its more of an understanding than an emotion. But of course, I was too young and hard-headed to understand at the time."
Alistair's face frowned with confusion, "I'm afraid I don't understand it either..." he said.
"One day, you will. You probably won't even know it when it happens, either. You'll find a nice girl and something inside you will change. You'll find something that was never there before."
"That's not really any help. I want Dyana, not some nice girl."
"Unfortunately, we can't always have what we want. I know that doesn't make you feel any better now, but maybe in time it will."
"I just wish I knew where it all went wrong. I thought we were perfect for each other."
"Sometimes it's the parts that don't seem to fit that go together best. Look at Morrigan and me, for instance."
"What about you?"
"To look at me and to see her, you'd never think we'd be were we are. We're complete opposites."
"I'll say. You're always playing the part of hero while she turns people into toads."
"For the record, Morrigan has never turned anyone into a toad. At least, not that I'm aware of."
"I wouldn't be surprised if she had. I've seen how she eyes me sometimes."
"Maybe she just thinks you have a cute backside."
Alistair cringed violently in his spot, exclaiming, "don't even joke about that! That's not funny! Now I'll be having nightmares for a week."
The Warden chuckled a bit, saying, "regardless. My point was is that sometimes you can't ever tell who you're going to wind up with."
"But I thought you said you knew Morrigan was the one the instant you saw her."
"I did. That happens, too. But it's not nearly as common I don't think."
"None of this makes any sense at all."
"Love is a confusing thing, my friend. Get used to it."
"A little too confusing, if you ask me."
"I hope I was able to help at least a little." The Warden said as he gave the king a few reassuring pats on the back, "if you're going to be alright, I'm going to head off to get some sleep. You should, too."
"You have helped, Dwemer, quite a bit. Thank you. At least I know I can still count on you."
"That's what I'm here for. Are you sure you'll be alright?"
"I'll be fine. You'd better go and get back to that witch of yours before she decides to turn you into a toad."
And with a finale wave, The Warden headed back toward his tent and his witch who waited for him inside. He knew he was bound to get an earful from her, as he always did whenever their alone time was interrupted and he was forced to leave her for a while. But it was something he'd grown used to over the years they'd been together. A smile began to creep across his face as he thought about the scornful look she would give, along with a few choice words she direct at him. He was reminded of just how far he and the witch had come in their time together, which, given Alistair's situation, made him feel a bit guilty.
To his surprise, when he entered their tent, he found the witch still lying on their bedroll, but she was sound asleep. Morrigan failed to put any clothes back on after they were interrupted by Alsitair, and she lay naked, curled up in the thick heavy blanket which was twisted around part of her body. As usual, she was spread out over the entire surface of the bedroll, laying on her stomach and leaving little room for him to occupy. Her left leg lay across one side while her right was brought up, her knee bent slightly. The Warden shook his head and grinned as he spied her hand still resting between her legs. Evidently, in the witch's impatience for him to return, she had handled the matter herself and immediately passed out afterward.
He started to remove his clothes and climb back into the warm bedroll with his witch, trying to be as quiet as he possibly could. However, as he did, his shoulder accidentally bumped into the lantern, making a loud noise. Instantly, Morrigan's eyes popped open and she rose up with a startled jerk. Her golden eyes turned their gaze until they were fixed on him, forming into one of her familiar glares.
"So, you've returned at last." she said. "And how fares our distraught king?"
"He was pretty upset. But I think he'll be alright." The Warden replied as he continued to get undressed.
"I warned you this would happen, did I not? I told you he would fall hopelessly in love with the first woman who lays him."
"He'll learn from it. It's something everyone goes through."
"Not everyone, my love."
"You were the rare exception. But that always seems to be the case, doesn't it?"
"You say that as though you would have it any other way."
He slid into the bedroll next to and she snuggled against him, wrapping her arms around his chest. "Now, let us sleep. We're to return to Highever tomorrow so we shall need our rest."
"Sleep? Isn't there something else you'd rather do?"
"Silly man." the witch chuckled, "That has already be taken care of. You had your opportunity. I trust that in the future you shall not squander it again."
"Sleep well, my love." she said as she gave him a quick kiss before she rolled over, wrapping herself up in the blanket and leaving none for him, as usual.
The next morning, it was as if the clouds had decided to rest themselves by sitting down on the earth and thick mists rolled in on top of the mountains, obscuring their peaks from view. The tips of the fortress' towers were covered in the billowing fog that hung in the air as well. Even the forest, itself, was barely visible in the soupy morning air. The witch took this to be a bad omen of things to come, although with more annoyance than fear. She reasoned it was probably best to return to Highever as quickly as possible in order to avoid whatever troubles loomed ahead.
Dyana had already departed the night before, figuring it was probably best if she and Alistair didn't see each other for a while. She had taken her belongings and headed off into the night in search of whatever life had in store for her, leaving the king the unenviable task of picking up the pieces to his broken heart.
A dark and dreary cloud threatened to hang over the party as they packed up their things and headed back to Highever, but Morrigan, not being in the mood for having such glum companions, would have none of it. The witch informed Alistair that he needed to deal with what had happened and move on. No one could change the past, only the future could still be written by the actions taken in the present. She told the king that was were his mind needed to be. He needed to focus on the here and now rather than what could or should have been.
The Warden took a far more diplomatic approach to taking his friend's mind off his troubles. Rather than explain to Alistair where he'd gone wrong or what he should do about it, he instead engaged the king in conversation to distract him from his thoughts. The topics ranged from old adventures to people and places they'd each known and more. At one point, it occurred to The Warden to ask Alistair about the letter he'd found while exploring the tunnels beneath West Hill, hoping that the small scrap of paper and the connections it made to Alistair's family would at least make him feel a bit better. Although, The Warden did have to give the conversation a good kick before Alistair's gloomy mood threatened to stifle it altogether.
"Do you still have the letter you found?" The Warden asked.
"The letter? What letter?" a despondent Alistair replied, only half paying attention.
"The one you found in the fortress, you big dolt. You didn't forget about it already did you?"
"Oh, right. I still have it."
"Well? Have you even looked at it, yet?"
"A little."
"Only a little? I'd think after all the fuss you made about finding it you'd be thrilled to read it."
"I've skimmed over it some. I really haven't had a chance to read it completely."
"Maybe you should find the time." The Warden suggested.
"I just don't really feel like it right now."
"Why not? You've found an actual letter sent by the spy who betrayed your father, and even with all of that, Maric was still able to do what he did. If anything, don't you think that letter proves what a great man he really was?"
"Maybe..."
"Maybe what? If it was me, I would have already read it a thousand times."
"It's not like I haven't even looked at it. I did read parts of it." Alistair said, "as a matter of fact, there was something about the letter that struck me as a bit odd."
"Really? What was that?"
"From what I can tell, the spy was a woman named Katriel. But from the tone of certain parts, it almost seemed like she had some sort of feelings for my father. I can't be totally sure, though, until I've read all of it. When I get back to Denerim, I plan on having some local historians take a look at it and verify if it's real or not. Maybe they'll be able to help me figure out what it all means."
"When we get to Denerim, I think that's a good idea."
"We?" the king asked, shooting a sharp glance at The Warden, "so you've decided to come back with me, then?"
"I can't let you go to the landsmeet all on your own. Those lords will eat you alive." The Warden replied with a smirk.
"Thanks, Dwemer. I appreciate all the help I can get."
"And so, yet another pointless adventure commences." the witch quipped in disgust from her spot behind her warden.
The Warden looked back over his shoulder and cast Morrigan a reassuring glance that said, it won't that bad. You'll see. We'll be back home before you know it.
The witch responded with a look of her own that seemed to say, 'tis always 'that bad', my love. Mark my words, 'tis a decision you shall soon regret making.
By the end of the day, the party had made its way back to Highever, riding their horses through the large gates of Castle Cousland and up into the main courtyard as the guards cried out, heralding the arrival of the king and The Grey Warden. Within moments, the large main doors swung open and Teyrn Fergus emerged, making his way down the steps to greet his brother and the king. Following just behind was Seth, who was anxious to see his parents, but his stubby legs were having a bit of difficulty with the stairs as he slowly hopped down from one step to the next.
"Mutha! Da!" the child squealed when his tiny feet finally touched the ground and he ran to them.
The Warden scooped his son up in his arms, saying "There's my big man! Were you behaved for your uncle while we were away?"
"Behaved?" Fergus scoffed, cocking his head, "That little scoundrel had me running all over the castle after him."
"That's my boy!" The Warden replied as he mussed the small child's hair.
"Seth, what were you told about your uncle?" Morrigan scolded.
The child looked up at his mother and dutifully answered, "Don't make faces when he's lookin'?" which brought a good chuckle to everyone, including the witch.
"How like your father you are." she said.
"Isn't there someone missing?" Fergus asked, finally noticing Dyana's absence.
"Uhm...yeah. Dyana won't be going with us to Denerim." The Warden answered, giving his brother a look that urged him to drop the subject.
"Really? What happened?" they teyrn continued, cluelessly ignoring his brother.
"I don't want to talk about it." Alistair grumbled.
"Ahh. I see." Fergus said when he at last understood, "Well, in case you're interested, you're rooms have all been prepared for you and you're men, and the chefs have gotten supper ready. After a filling meal and a good night's rest, we cant head to Dernim in the morning."
Turning to The Warden, Fergus asked, "I expect you and Morrigan will want your old quarters?"
"Thanks, but no, Fergus. Morrigan and I are going to go on home to the cottage for the night. We'll meet up with you along the way tomorrow." The Warden answered as he helped Morrigan climb back onto the horse and handed Seth to her.
"Are you sure I can't talk you into staying?"
"It's only a short distance. There's no real need. Besides, it will allow us to get ready faster in the morning and be ready by the time you get there." The Warden explained while he mounted his steed.
"Fine. Have it your way. Until tomorrow, then."
"Until tomorrow."
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