Alistair helped her up and with his eyes cast downwards, looking at the bodies of Jory and Daveth he sighed, "Two more deaths... In my Joining only one of us died, but it was... Horrible. I'm glad at least you made it through..."
Her tongue was still heavy and she could only nod slightly.
"When you are ready, the King wanted you at the War Table." Duncan said, patting one of her hands before walking away.
"I... There's one more thing you need before finishing the Joining." Alistair took her hand and put in her open palms a small locket. "An amulet with blood of those who didn't make it. So we remember."
Her fingers closed around the small silver locket. "I could never forget." She had found her voice, but only a little.
She held the locket in her hands, "There is however... One thing I must retrieve." She walked over to Jory with a sigh, "I... Jory. You fool." She grumbled bitterly as she took off his gauntlet and slipped off his wedding band, putting it on the chain of the locket before putting it on and tucking it underneath her armor.
"I... When we go... To Highever," 'home' didn't feel like the right word anymore, "Helena will need to be told."
"When do you expect to go?"
She let out a sad chuckle, "Let's see if I live through this Blight first."
Before he could ask how she was feeling now that her body was done from the reeling, she walked away in the direction of the war table. And that's when he realized she probably would've lied to him anyways. She was miserable and didn't want to talk about it.
He looked at her mabari who let out a small whine, but padded after her.
She saw the war table and forced a smile on her face. The last thing she wanted to do. She forced it on her face. The action felt forgein. Vile. Wrong.
"Loghain, my decision is final. I will stand by the Grey Wardens in this assault."
What a time to come in at... She thought miserably. He was king, he should be staying back, not risking his life just to get front row seats.
"You risk too much, Cailan! The darkspawn horde is too dangerous for you to be playing hero on the front lines."
This must be Loghain. The dark haired warrior seemed to be the voice of reason. The one who laid out these plans. She sighed with slight relief. At least this wasn't going to be all for naught. With him at the actual command of the armies, it was possible they could win.
In the Orlesian war he had done a lot more with a lot less. She had faith. Though she was curious why they weren't waiting for more forces to come in.
"If that's the case," Cailan shrugged, "perhaps we should wait for the Orelsian forces to join us after all."
They had been free from Orlesian occupations for nearly 30 years. She saw Loghain's expression darken.
She had understood the fear, though her father had been assured in Fereldan rule and were no longer angry at the Orlesians since Meghren's death. So she had never dealt with the people who still felt the Orlesians wanted Fereldan.
She looked at Loghain and she saw that he would never be the same again. He saw what the Orlesians did. And from the murderous look when even mention the Orlesian Army... They did something to him. Something very personal. Something that... He would never, ever forgive them for.
"I must repeat my protest to your fool notion that we 'need' the Orlesians to defend ourselves!"
She would see the paranoia was still fresh in his mind.
This was a Blight. She could see why Duncan was sure of it now. They had to put stuff aside or the Blight would conquer all.
Cailan, however brash, was willing to move forward with the Orlesians. Something she could get behind.
Loghain gritted his teeth at Cailan's mention of who is king, "How fortunate Maric did not live to see his son ready to hand Fereldan over to those who enslaved us for a century."
Elanda looked at Duncan who shook his head as if to say 'this is not our fight. Stay out of it.' With that she looked at the map on the table, leaning forward, seeing the war pieces out on the table.
Loghain had the right of it; archers on the bridge, though she would've stationed more, there would never be such a thing as too much archer support. There were two griffon pieces at the tower across the bridge, and then a Griffon piece next to a piece that looked like a Mabari with a crown. She let out a small snort, Cailan.
Which meant the Griffon pieces were the Grey Wardens. Interesting. Who was going to be where?
"And this is the Lady from Highever I met earlier? I understand congratulations are in order."
Oh, Cailan was talking to her now. She looked up and gave a small bow, "Thank you, Your Grace."
There was a kind smile on his face, innocence. Or naivety. She couldn't tell. Sometimes one bled into the other, "Every Grey Warden is needed now. You should be honored to join their ranks."
"I am honored, Your Majesty." she made a slight bow again.
Loghain still hadn't quite recovered from Cailan's earlier comment about the Orlesians as he stabbed Cailan with catering to glory, legends and fantasy and an ever so kind suggestion that they must get back to reality.
And like a pouting child, Cailan said "Fine. Speak your strategy."
Thankfully, things got back onto the actual reason for the meeting at the war table. Elanda was thankful that even though the two most powerful men standing in front of her were acting like bickering children, they could focus on the task at hand.
Only to find out that, she and Alistair were being sent to light the charging beacon at the Tower of Ishal.
Her fists clenched. She understood that roles in battles were important, but why wasn't she, or Alistair being set in battle? Next to Duncan? She didn't come this far to light a damned beacon!
"I..." She grated her teeth, mustering a polite tone, "Understand."
"You rely too much on these Grey Wardens, is that wise?"
She couldn't help but glare at the dark haired strategist. She felt insulted! Suddenly she couldn't be trusted? Suddenly the motives of the Grey Wardens were being questioned?
But, their biggest supporter in shining armor felt the same way they did, and spoke up for them.
"Enough of your conspiracy theories, Loghain." Cailan's anger flared, "Grey Wardens battle the Blight, no matter where they're from."
Duncan brought up the Archdemon. It may not have shown up, but she saw it. The thing was... Awful. But soon it would rear up it's ugly head. It's massive ugly head.
The mage voiced began to voice out his opinion when he was rudely interrupted by an older lady in Chantry robes.
Elanda could no longer hold her tongue, "Revered Mother. Other than for our dead and to lift our spirits during these dark times, might I ask why you're at the War Table? As I understand the Templars will be fighting as well and have been notified of their position."
The elderly woman glared at the young Grey Warden with an anger that made Andraste's Pyre look like the summer heat.
"Enough! This plan will suffice."
"Thank you, Loghain." The king nodded as the strategist began leaving, no doubt to prepare his men, "I cannot wait for that glorious moment! The Grey Wardens battle beside the king of Fereldan to stem back the tide of evil!"
"Yes... A glorious moment for us all."
"Before we begin, I must talk to my Wardens." Duncan said, pulling Elanda aside, walking to his fire where she saw Alistair with an smirk plastered on his face.
"Great show that." Alistair chuckled, "Dealing with the revered mother, I mean." He snickered, "The look on her face was priceless. What did you do?"
"I told her the War Table had no room for her if the Templars were already taking up her space."
"I would've liked to have seen that!" Alistair grinned, "What happened- like exactly, did her face-"
"One of you is riling up mages," Duncan turned to them finally, a slightly amused expression playing on his face as he crossed his arms, "while the other is riling up the revered mother."
"Not like the didn't deserve it." Alistair mumbled, "It's about time she got a taste of her own medicine anyhow."
"Just keep in mind that the Grey Warden purpose isn't political."
"Yes, Duncan." Alistair said, his head hanging low.
"Now then. You heard the plan. You two will go to the Tower of Ishal and make sure the beacon is lit."
"What? I won't be in the battle?"
Alistair sounded about as pleased as she felt.
"This is by the King's personal request, Alistair." Duncan explained, like a father trying to calm down his angry son, "if that beacon is not lit, the Teyrn's men won't know when to charge."
"So he needs two Grey Wardens standing up there, holding up the torch." There was something hidden here, Elanda could feel it, "Just in case, right?"
There was some sort of 'Plan B' that she didn't know about. Maybe she was just tired. It had been a very long day.
"I understand the King holds us in high regard, but the more Grey Wardens he has on the battlefield, the better off we might be." She argued.
Duncan had quite the disapproving frown on her face, "That is not your choice. If the King wishes the Grey Wardens to light the beacon, then we will do just that." He sighed, "We must do whatever it takes to defeat the darkspawn. Exciting or no."
Her teeth grated. She wasn't angry at Duncan, she wasn't going to lash out at him.
"I get it, I get it." Alistair sighed defeatedly, "But just so you know if the king ever asks me to put on a dress and dance the Remigold, I'm drawing the line. Darkspawn or no."
It was so unexpected. She let out a small burst of laughter as the image came into her mind, "I think I'd like to see that."
"For you, maybe." Then he looked up, his nose pointed upwards like a snobbish noble, "But it has to be a pretty dress."
She had to hide her laughter behind her hand, not that it did much good, much to Duncan's long sigh.
Duncan went over some other things with them before going to step away.
"Duncan... Maker watch over you."
"May he watch over us all."
