Zevran already had the tub in the bathroom room off of their room filled with hot water, and was lounging at his ease in it. He smiled invitingly at Owen. "I know with your magics we do not have to worry that we may have brought back... passengers... after our little sojourn through the nastier corners and back alleys of the alienage, but that does nothing for the grime and assorted stinks we came in contact with there. I thought we might enjoy taking a bath together," he said, raising one eyebrow.

Owen grinned, and began stripping off his own clothing. "I do like a partner who anticipates my needs," he said, tossing aside his shirt and kicking off his shoes. He quickly skinned out of his leggings and smallclothes as well, then walked around the tub to behind where Zevran was sitting. "Scootch forward a little," he ordered, then once the elf had moved out of the way, stepped down into the tub behind him, lowering himself down and putting his legs to either side of the elf, before wrapping his arms around him and drawing him back to rest against his own chest.

"Mmm, very nice," Zevran said approvingly. He picked up a cloth and soap from where he'd left them handy to the tub, and after working up a lather, began scrubbing the bits of Owen and himself he could reach in his current position. Owen eventually released him and picked up a cloth as well, and their bathing rapidly turned into a squirming game, the two of them contorting around to wash various bits of each other – either because of the presence of actual grime, or just because the bits were interesting, hindered only by the fact that the tub was really only large in relation to an average-sized human, and was rather small for two people, one of whom was near qunari-sized in height. There was some banging of elbows and knees, occasional curses or gasps, and a lot of splashing of water out onto the floor.

They were both grinning widely by the time they were satisfied with their cleanliness. Owen was flat on his back in the water, head raised against the sloped end of the tub, his feet resting on the opposite rim, knees in the air, Zevran straddling his waist, toying curiously with his chest hair.

"This position is giving me naughty ideas," the mage said.

Zevran grinned, and slid further back a little, until his buttocks came in contact with Owen's erection. "Mmm, so I can tell," he said approvingly, rubbing himself against it suggestively.

Before things could progress on to anything more intriguing, there was a knock at the door to their room. Owen muttered a curse.

"Yes?" he called out. "Who is it?"

"It's Arren."

"Just a minute," Owen called back. Zevran was already scrambling out of the tub. The two quickly dried off and pulled on at least minimal clothing, then Zevran hurried over and unlocked the door.

It was more than just Arren – Alistair and Briar were there as well. Arren smiled slightly as he took in the two men's half-dressed and dripping state. His own hair was still damp from the bath he too had taken as soon as reaching his room. "Sorry to interrupt you, " he said. "But apparently things finally came to a head among the nobles while we were off fighting demons and slavers. They've decided to begin the Landsmeet tomorrow. And I'd like to consult with our newest allies before it begins. Owen, Zevran, could you guide us to Bann Teagan's household, please?"

"Of course," Owen said, and quickly drew on more clothing, Zevran doing the same. In short order they were both decently dressed, hair rubbed dry and combed out.

As the group was leaving the estate, a cloaked-and-hooded figure slipped out of a side-passage and joined their group. Arren looked sharply at the person. "Your majesty..." he began, startled as he recognized who it was.

"Hush. I too wish to consult with our allies," Anora said quietly. "And have a chance to talk with both you and Alistair away from Arl Eamon's oversight. I trust that your group is sufficient to keep me safe on the streets of Denerim?"

Arren nodded, and the party remained silent until they were out and in the city. Arren gave Alistair and Anora a brief rundown about events in the alienage that day.

"It is hard for me to believe that my father could do such a cruel thing to the elves," Anora said, the grief in her voice audible. "He is not one of those nobles who believes elves are less than human; he had friends among them, from his years leading the Night Elves, and has always maintained good relations with the elves in and around Gwaren, our city elves and the Dalish clans both."

Arren nodded. "It puzzles me, as well," he admitted. "I know he was one of very few humans our keeper ever had a kind word about, and her regard is hard to win. Still, desperate men will sometimes do things that would normally be abhorrent to them, and since the losses at Ostagar..." he trailed off, frowning unhappily.

"It does not forgive his actions," Anora said.

"No, it doesn't," Arren agreed.

"We're here," Owen said, and nodded at the door of a nearby townhouse.


Arren wasn't sure what he'd been expecting when Queen Anora and the Couslands met. Whatever it had been, it wasn't what actually happened. Anora and Gemma took one look at each, burst into tears, and pretty much flew into each other's arms. All the men quickly withdrew to Teagan's study to give the two women some time alone, Bann Teagan seeing them all seated with a glass of sweet white wine from his own winery before allowing any talk of business.

"They were always close friends, growing up," Fergus said, gravely, referring to the absent women. "All of us were... we saw each other quite frequently, whenever events or festivities drew nobles together for one reason or another. I still find it hard to believe that Cailan is gone, much less my entire family..." he stopped himself, and turned to look searchingly at Alistair. "You're his half-brother, Teagan tells me. You do have the Theirin looks, though I'd wager you have inches in height and breadth over Cailan. And Arl Eamon wishes you made king."

"Not something I have any interest in myself, believe me," Alistair said, jaw setting stubbornly. "I'm a Grey Warden., first, foremost, and always."

"I'm glad to hear that," Anora's voice said, and they turned to see her entering the room with Gemma, both of them still red-eyed and with an arm comfortingly placed around each other's waist. Everyone quickly rose to their feet. "Were you aware that Arl Eamon has been pressuring me to marry you in order to secure the throne?" she asked Alistair, tilting her head slightly to one side as she looked up at him, her arms crossing.

"No!" Alistair exclaimed, looking so honestly shocked that Anora smiled. "Anyway, I couldn't marry you. I'm already taken."

Anora frowned. "Married? To whom?" she asked sharply.

"Not married, as such..," Alistair corrected. He tugged on one ear, looked questioningly at Arren. "Teagan already guessed," he said evasively. "Should we..."

Briar took the choice into his own hands, transforming back into Jowan, drawing startled gasps from Anora and the Couslands, and an amused smile from Teagan. He bowed deeply to the Queen. "I beg your pardon," he said. "I met your father once, but we've not been formally introduced. I'm Jowan, a mage of the Circle," he said.

Alistair stepped forward and put his arms around the smaller man, and grinned over his head at Anora. "I don't think you'll have to worry about any issue of mine potentially muddying the succession, at least," he pointed out dryly.

Teagan laughed, a deep, rich sound. "Good boy, putting your finger on the key political point," he said approvingly, and turned to smile at Queen Anora. "Of course, it would help if Jowan remains free of confinement to the circle tower..."

A slight smile curved her lips. She moved to sit down on a nearby loveseat, gesturing for the men to resume their seats as well. Gemma sat down beside her. "Of course," Anora agreed, nodding. "That would follow, wouldn't it. Very well, assuming we all survive this blight, I will use whatever influence I have to see that the two are not parted against their wishes. Now... Fergus, do you wish to challenge for Highever tomorrow, or...?"

Fergus frowned thoughtfully, and ran hand through his hair. "Truthfully, I see little advantage in doing so. I fear that the public reappearance of Gemma and myself, and any attempt to reclaim our Terynir at this time, would distract from the real issue the Landsmeet should be focusing on; combating this blight. It little matters who was holding where, even who rules, if the land is overrun with darkspawn. I was there, in the south, not just prior to Ostagar but for some time afterwards, during my sojourn with the Chasind."

He drew a deep breath, frown depending, and continued. "I have seen the ruined lands the spawn leave behind them. If the darkspawn break out of the south, spread over the country – the occupation by the Orlesians will seem as nothing compared to what that would do to Ferelden. Darkspawn leave blighted plants and wildlife wherever they pass, a poisonous waste anywhere they linger. The Chasind say that only burning everything down to the soil will cleanse the land afterwards, and the recovery is long and slow. If we do not stop the darkspawn, and soon, then Ferelden will end a burnt-over desert, our people starving for lack of safely arable land. Weakened that badly, we would be helpless to resist invasion by foreign powers – assuming any would even want us, with our forests and grasslands seared away."

"Orlais would still hunger for our mineral resources, if nothing else," Bann Teagan pointed out. "Many of their own mines are played out, and what remains is deep, within the levels once claimed by the dwarves and now overrun by darkspawn. With our much lower population, and comparatively large areas of still-untouched wilderness, we are a veritable storehouse of easily-accessed mineral wealth compared to their own dwindling resources. My own lands of Rainesfere have long made a tidy profit from the little mining I allow."

Fergus nodded. "As did Highever. I can recall my father talking about how his Orlesian contacts were always pressing him to produce more, and didn't understand his reluctance to turn to more widespread mining..."

Teagan smiled. "An issue on which your father and I were much in agreement," he said, then shrugged. "Mineral wealth can only be taken from the land once. Once it is removed, it is gone forever. Fertile farmland, well-grown orchards, productive forests rich with game, those will produce wealth as long as they are maintained. I will not rape away the fertility of my land for short-term gain merely because an ore-body lies under it. The land and its people will still be there long after I am dead; more gold in my vaults now is not worth making paupers of them both."

"Well said," Anora said approvingly. "My father argued the same for our lands of Gwaren, that the trees and animals of our forests represented a source of wealth over time that no short-sighted destruction of it could ever hope to equal." She looked sorrowful for a moment. "He was a good steward, once. If there is any one thing I am most bitter about since the events at Ostagar... it is how it has changed him. He is not the man he was. And tomorrow we must do what we can to bring an end to his misrule, and Ferelden's focus back to where it belongs – not on petty politicking, but on defeating this blight."

Fergus nodded. "Best Gemma and I remain here tomorrow. Summon us if you feel our help would be of use."

"Of course," Anora said, then glanced at Gemma. "I believe I will go walk in the garden for a while before I return to the Arl's estate. Gemma, will you accompany me?"

Gemma nodded, and the two women rose to their feet. Zevran promptly popped to his feet as well. "I will keep an eye on the two ladies," he said, and looked at Anora. "Discretely. But you should not be outdoors without a guard of some kind, even in a sheltered garden."

Anora frowned, then nodded agreement. The three left the room.

"Well, is there anything else we should discuss while we're all together?" Bann Teagan asked politely.

Arren nodded. "You and Fergus should be aware of what we found out in the alienage today," he said, and he and Owen quickly brought the two men up to speed on the day's events. Teagan, for his part, had some rumours to share about how support for Loghain was crumbling in the wake of Arl Howe's death and the discoveries Arren and his group had made in the dungeons of the Denerim estate.

"All sorts of unpleasant truths have been coming out as a result of that little event," Teagan said sombrely. "Even Loghain's support from the army is on shaky ground now, after word leaked – I'd assume from young Oswyn – that Howe had imprisoned and tortured to death numerous soldiers for nothing worse then speaking openly of what they'd personally witnessed at Ostagar. The soldiers feel – and rightly – that as commander of the armed forces, Loghain should have been protecting them from any such abuse. If he was aware of what Howe was doing, and either condoned it or ignored it – either way, it's a shocking betrayal of his men."

Fergus nodded agreement. After that conversation turned to more general topics, Fergus regaling them with tales of his time among the Chasind, Alistair telling of his travels since Ostagar, Arren and Jowan adding details where they felt appropriate.


Zevran lounged against a tree, eating an apple, watching the two women. They had walked together along a winding circular path through the garden for a long while, heads bent together, talking quietly. He assumed about events in both their lives since the fall of Highever and the death of Anora's husband at Ostagar – they'd had that look to them, of two women sharing sorrows. He'd very carefully kept his ears tuned away from their conversation, allowing the two as much privacy as he could and still watch over their safety.

They were seated now, on a marble bench beneath an arched trellis overgrown with greenery. In the right season, it was undoubtedly lovely with flowers, but this late in the year there was only foliage left, much of it already beginning to look ratty and turn colour as the nights grew colder. The ladies themselves supplied more than enough loveliness by themselves, however, the bright head and the dark bent together as they talked softly, both smiling now, presumably having worked their way to some lighter topic than their separate griefs.

He heard the creak of a door, and glanced over his shoulder to see the men emerging from the house, Fergus and Teagan in the fore, Owen at the back, Arren and Alistair in between with Briar.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," Bann Teagan said, cutting a rather fine bow to the two women as they looked up. "But it's getting late, and Arren tells me he should be getting back to my brother's house."

Anora nodded, and rose to her feet. Gemma rose as well, and the women walked back over to the men, Zevran dropping his apple core on the ground and moving to rejoin the group as well.

Anora looked back and forth from Gemma to Fergus. "I am glad to have seen the two of you again. I will send word, or Teagan will bring it himself, as soon as we know the outcome of the Landsmeet. Or if I find we have need of you."

Fergus nodded. "We will be waiting. I wish you all success tomorrow, my Queen," he said. "Know that Highever supports you, in spirit if not in person."

Anora smiled warmly at him. "I thank you. I hope this mess is solved soon, and you restored to your Terynir," she said, then turned to Gemma and exchanged a warm hug with the other woman. Then she pulled the hood of her cloak forward, hiding her too-recognizable face again, and they departed, walking quickly and quietly back through the streets to Arl Eamon's house, the minds of all of them on the next day, the coming Landsmeet.