Thanks for reading, reviewing and theories! They make X very happy. ^^

Special thanks to my talented beta Seika for her help. :)

Farce

Oghren's steps were slower and slower; the closer he got to home, the greater was his wish to turn back, go to the Keep, get drunk and ignore the sodding Commander. Then, the next day he could pretend he didn't give a nugshit about Felsi and Kalah. It was better than going there and playing happy family. Felsi had stopped hoping for that years ago; now she merely tolerated him for Kalah's sake. It would not be long until Kalah stopped caring, too. Every time he came, she was little bit less glad to see him.

Not that he could blame them. He was no family man. He should have never gotten married again, he knew that now. Not after Branka. But when he left Orzammar everything had felt so strange; endless, open in all directions, too sodding big for one person alone. Before he had left Orzammar, he had been in the Deep Roads twice, which was more than most other dwarves in the town had ever done; on the surface it seemed any noble git could travel more during their morning walk. And, he had thought, with a new family, it would be easier to forget his former life. To forget Branka.

Big mistake, that.

Three months after the sodding wedding, he had known it would never work; after another three months he left to Wardens, because he had no idea where else to go. He knew Felsi would be happier without him. But it was too late. She was already with Kalah... he was a father. That was the best thing that had ever happened to him. For a while, it had seemed that they could be a family. Daddy was not home, but that was because he was a sodding Warden, who protects everyone with his big axe. But Daddy still loved his little nugget and Mummy.

And Branka.

It had been ten years since he became the Warden, and the Commander had given him three months of holiday to stay with his family. Never giving up, Commander. Oghren knew it wouldn't help... but maybe it could be the last time. He stopped at the crossroad. It wasn't far now. If he wanted, he could be home within two hours...

Cursing, he turned in the opposite direction. He would go home tomorrow. Tonight the needed a drink.

The inn was crowded and smelly. Not unlike the inn near the lake Calenhad where Felsi– no, better not think of that. He ordered the strongest ale they had, and wanted nothing more than to drink himself into oblivion in a lone corner; but after a while someone came to his table.

"Ser Oghren?"

He looked up at the person looming over him. "Should I know you?"

"I was at Denerim! During the fight at the gates!"

"Yeah. Great. Now get lost."

But the annoying nughumper didn't listen and went on and on and on about the Blight, and the Hero and Oghren's bravery, and how they saved sodding Ferelden... But as long as the fool was willing to pay for beer, Oghren could survive it without becoming a murderer.

A few hours later, and they were the best of buddies. With tears and sobbing, he told his companion everything, about Branka; how he loved her, how he would do anything for her, even now, if she would come back to him... and about Felsi; how he broke her heart and how he hated himself for it; about his little nugget, Kalah, his only reason for life, and how he would crush any sodding surfacer that would try to look at her.

His companion listened to his misery, patting him on his back; and when Oghren tried to get up, and found he couldn't figure out which legs were his own and which belonged to the table, his companion even offered to take him back home. Yeah. A surprisingly decent surfacer, that one.

oOo

The murderer sighed in content. It had been too long since that last murder... but maybe that was why it felt so good. And it would continue even tomorrow: it would be fun, to watch from his hiding place. How would people in Redcliffe react to Ser Oghren, dead in a stinky back alley, less than fifteen minutes walk from his home. Covered in vomit and piss, reeking of cheap ale, apparently stabbed during a brawl.

One of the heroes of the Blight, decorated by the King himself.

That was all everyone cared about these days. It was time to remind them of truth.