DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.

SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

CHAPTER 5: SHADES OF GREY


Black and white is how it should be
But shades of grey are the colors I see
-Billy Joel

Cloudreach === Lothering - Mel

On Mel's fourth day in Lothering, no troops marched. A few soldiers bartered with shopkeepers, but most kept to the Teyrn's camp on the town's eastern edges. She saw farmers pass by driving carts loaded with wrinkled apples and root vegetables. Mel wrinkled her nose at the sight. Fresh from winter storage. She knew they hoped to sell their loads to the quartermaster, before fleeing their farmholds. Others drove livestock, hoping to gain what coin they could before heading north or east.

She still hoped to avoid the army's patrols. Rather than return to Shep at the mill where she had set up camp, Mel went to Dane's to purchase an hour in the bathhouse. Once clean, she found a seat in a corner of the inn. Minstrels played from the balcony. The barkeep dispensed rumors and local brew. Nursing a stout, she spent time writing in her journal and watching the crowd. She wore her leathers, but her blades and bow remained at the mill. Her cowl pooled around her neck. She kept her head bent and her braids loose, shielding her face. She regretted not wearing the simple dress she had in her pack, but rushing out now would only pique the interest of the Gwaren troops who had just come in and taken seats near the door. She had seen them, that morning, questioning townsfolk and refugees. The bathhouse had been a refuge. Dane's did not offer the same sanctuary. She quickly closed the octavo and slipped it into the pocket of her cloak as a Gwaren trooper approached. He stopped by her table. "You don't look like a local woman. What brings you here?" he asked.

"I was heading to Ostagar," she replied. "It seems I am too late. Is that true? Is the battle won?"

"Won!" the young soldier looked at her wide-eyed. "The king is dead, lured to battle in the vanguard by the Grey Wardens. Our king, most of Ferelden's nobility and a large part of our army died betrayed by the Grey Wardens. The Teyrn spoke to us telling us the truth of Ostagar. He said the Orlesians want to use the darkspawn threat to bring Orlesian Chevaliers back into Ferelden. The Orlesian wardens and their allies, the chevaliers, stand at our borders ready to invade. The Grey Wardens betrayed Ferelden. Our patrol waits here to capture any who might have survived the battle."

"The Ferelden Wardens led an Orlesian plot and betrayed the King?" Mel knew she sounded incredulous, but could not help letting the doubts she felt color her reply. That the Ferelden Grey Wardens would lend themselves to an Orlesian plot, lure the King into battle, see him dead, and then all die themselves seemed farfetched at best. Surely, Teyrn Loghain knew more about wardens and Blights than to suspect Orlais could influence darkspawn or an Archdemon. Of course, Arl Howe's slaughter of everyone at Castle Cousland and Highever Keep seemed equally implausible. Anything, it seemed, was possible in Ferelden now. She realized the trooper had continued speaking.

"…most so-called Ferelden Wardens came from Orlais," said the trooper. "Their Commander was Orlesian. Teyrn Loghain secured our borders, before Ostagar, to prevent any more Orlesian Wardens and their Chevaliers from crossing. Even though they could expect no aid, the Ferelden Wardens, led by their Orlesian Commander, furthered the plot, so committed were they to their treachery. They are traitors and murderers. On Teyrn Loghain's orders, we will capture any we find and take them to Denerim. Let us know if you see any in the town. There are rumors a soldier and a mage survived."

He moved on. Mel breathed a sigh of relief. The focus on the warden's alleged treachery had distracted the man from pursuing his questions about her.

Could any of his statements be fact? Not all Fereldan Wardens were native. Did he mean Duncan, when he referred to the Orlesian Commander? Or had Duncan died and some other Commander taken his place? The Duncan I know would not betray Ferelden or King Cailan unless they betrayed his Wardens first. If Cailan stood with them, clearly that had not happened.

So many half-truths and misperceptions amidst the fog and darkness of war, she thought. Does anyone know… well not the truth, but at least the facts? She decided it was time to leave the inn and blend in with the increasing number of refugees crowding into Lothering from the South. She had left Shepherd to guard their gear. She should get back to her.

Mel slipped out of the inn and pulled up the hood of her cloak. Her mabari, Shepherd, trotted out to join her as she approached the mill on the edge of town. She had made the mill her camp upon arriving in Lothering. Although its sail turned, the mill remained unused. The recently planted spring crops provided no grain for grinding. She had no problem picking the simple lock, entering and setting up camp in a safe, defensible, dry, if dusty, loft. The lock secured her things each time she left. Entering, Mel climbed the steep stairway feeling clean, warm and full for the first time since the night Lys died in Highever. She stretched out on her bedroll, hoping for sleep.

During the weeks spent traveling woodland paths through the Bannorn, Mel's exhaustion allowed her periods of uninterrupted sleep. Now, in Lothering, sleep came slowly, if at all. Nightmares woke her many times each night. Aiding refugees at the Chantry provided a distraction during the day, but no physical exhaustion. No jobs for a single sell sword appeared on the Chanter's Board. She did not need the coin, not yet at least, but she needed the distraction and exhaustion physical activity would provide.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

No Highever or House Cousland shields appeared in the town during the following days as more stragglers arrived. Fergus must be gone too. No, I won't believe that. Teyrn Loghain and the army had moved towards Denerim after a three-day respite. They took Bann Ceorlic and his guard along, leaving only a patrol behind to recruit more troops and capture the surviving wardens. She pondered her next move. Going south to search for Fergus seemed to risky. I have no idea where he might be. She could move against Arl Howe, but no plan came to mind, short of heading to Denerim to confront him. Even I'm not that foolish. I might put Anora in danger if I tried to see her. I'll get there too late to warn Pippa. And Delilah? I don't believe she would betray Pippa or Anora, but she is a Howe…. No, I'll head to Waking Sea and meet the Wrath troops Mum will send from Cumberland. She decided she would wait a few more days. Who knew how long it might take stragglers to get this far north.

Struggling with tension, exhaustion and inability to sleep, Mel tossed restlessly that night. The relentless loneliness and frustration sapped her energy, but prevented rest. She sighed, getting up from her bedroll. The platform surrounding the structure offered a breeze, night sounds and a view of the sky. Dragging her bedroll out the door, she settled back down to watch the stars and perhaps to sleep.

The next morning, after a fitful night, Mel remained on the windmill platform. She pulled out her journal, determined to bring it up to the current day, 9 Cloudreach. She wanted to record as much as possible before she forgot. Fergus would want every detail when she found him. And I will find him. She was not sure she would be able to speak about the events of that night. Given the journal, Fergus could read and then ask questions. Shep lay beside her, as she wrote. She fed Shep jerky and herself the last spice cake to break their fast.

After eating, she put on her dress, to better blend in with the refugees now crowding the village. She wore her boots, complete with knives. Her belts, with throwing knives and dagger hung around her waist and across her chest. She may be wearing a dress, but she would not venture out unarmed. Fortunately, it was cloudy and cool, so her cowl and cloak did not seem out of place and concealed her weapons. As a mercenary her fading tattoo was unremarkable, but today, in a dress, she feared it would stand out. She pulled out some cream which would mask it. If she wanted to question the Ostagar stragglers, she could not be a soldier. Nor did she want to attract the attention of the Gwaren patrol.

I need a story. I'll be a young woman searching for my brother Aengus. My father's ill. He wants news. She left Shep to guard their belongings in the mill. She hoped to find someone who actually saw the battle and would provide an objective view. She might not trust Loghain, but she did not believe he had abandoned Cailan to die. Nor did she think Duncan's wardens had caused his death. Knowing Cailan he did something gallant and stupid and a darkspawn killed him.

Avoiding the inn, where Loghain's watchers lurked, she walked over the bridge to the Chantry. Several Bannorn soldiers milled about the courtyard, some chatting with the templars. She approached one who looked to be older and possibly a sergeant. He sat on the edge of the Chantry porch sorting through his pack. She hoped her instincts did not fail her.

"Excuse me, ser, but I'm seeking information. My brother was with Bann Charleton's guard. I would find him or find out what happened to him and his companions. My father would know Aengus' fate, but is too ill to travel. Can you help me find news?" The man, probably in his thirties, looked up and said, "Charleton's guard? Maker, I'm sorry, Mistress. They were in the valley with the King."

She looked at him blankly. "I'm sorry, I've never been to Ostagar. Your tone promises sad news, but I don't know what in the valley means."

He stood and gestured towards the Chantry. "Perhaps we should sit. Come into the Chantry and I will tell you what I know. I'm Sergeant Tuder, by the way." He looked around and frowned. "Have you no attendants?"

"Oh, yes, but they are asking at the inn and in the refugee camps. We thought it safer for me to ask at the Chantry. I'm Melys." She forced what she hoped was a sad smile. "You are very kind. If it's not too difficult for you, I would appreciate whatever you can tell me."

"Come," he said and led her into the Chantry settling them both in pew. "I would hope others would do the same for a sister of mine."

He stared at the altar for a time, then began, "The battle, it did not go well. A third of our forces were in the valley with the King and Grey Wardens. The rest were with Teyrn Loghain Mac Tir on a rise on the King's right flank, his right side. Of course, the Teyrn, didn't think King Cailan should be in the valley at all, but he lost that argument at the War Council. The King insisted on being with the Grey Wardens." He shook his head. "That Warden-Commander, Duncan, he should have told the King to stay with Teyrn Loghain. Or maybe he did and the King didn't listen."

Mel bit her lip. Knowing Cailan, he didn't listen and sought to be a hero. Then again, Fergus said Duncan often acquiesced to Cailan's demands and rarely disagreed with the king. She realized Sergeant Tuder was still talking.

"…mander never opposed the king. Teyrn Loghain's plan was a good one. The Wardens, with a third of the army, were to draw the Darkspawn into the valley of Ostagar. The army was behind a palisade in a narrow section of the valley. Once the darkspawn were fully engaged, they were to raise a signal telling watchers to light the beacon in Ostagar's tallest tower, the Tower of Ishal. The lit beacon would signal the Teyrn to attack and take the darkspawn from the flank, the side," he elaborated, "and rear. We thought victory would be ours despite the numbers of 'spawn."

He fell silent. She touched his arm. "I take it things did not go as planned?" she asked.

"It all went wrong from the start," he began. "First, messengers from the reconnaissance force the Teyrn sent out, returned with news of a Horde far larger than any had imagined. Everything would have to go perfectly for the Teyrn's troops to succeed in their flank attack against such overwhelming numbers. In the battle, nothing did.

"First the King insisted on standing with the wardens and leading from the front. Instead of letting Loghain's Captain order the attacks, he gave the orders himself."

Mel shivered, clearly able to imagine Cailan taking charge with no idea what he was doing. You poor brave idiot. Someone should have knocked you senseless and let the soldiers lead. Fergus might have done that, but he wasn't there. Which I hope bodes well for Fergus and his troops.

"When the battle started, the King acted prematurely. He should have waited until the darkspawn approached the palisades and choke points. He did not. He had the archers send only one flight of arrows as the darkspawn approached. For some reason, there were no archers or mages on the ramparts above the valley. We only sent a single flight. The enemy was too far away for the flight to do much damage. Some archers continued to fire at will, but that does not have the effect of a massed flight. He should have ordered multiple flights as they approached the palisades and then had the archers move to the rear or side to allow the hounds to attack as the darkspawn entered the trap. King Cailan sent the hounds far too soon, forcing the archers to hold. It wasted the lives of those brave mabari.

"The king's worst mistake was charging out into the Wilds. Instead of waiting for the darkspawn to reach the palisade, bunch up and present a target for the flank attack, he ordered a charge. Our troops left the protection of the palisades, charging into the open. A furious melee ensued, with the darkspawn eventually surrounding the army in the valley.

"Then the beacon was late. I don't know what happened in that Tower. The wardens assigned to light the beacon should have been waiting for the King's signal, but they weren't. When the sign came, as the King charged, nothing happened. By the time the beacon flared, the darkspawn had surrounded King Cailan and his army. There was no flank for the Teyrn to attack. He could have attacked anyway, but he would have lost the rest of our army to overwhelming odds."

"He retreated with his remaining troops. I can't say it was a bad decision. He avoided a rout. He kept an army to fight another day. It was a good tactical move. If the King had been with the Teyrn…." Sergeant Tuder shook his head.

Mel sat stunned at the extent of the debacle. Cailan not following the agreed plan did not surprised her. He so resented the conflicting demands of his wife and advisors that he often broke his own path, sensible or not. This time his intransigence cost him and thousands of others their lives. She finally asked, "How many troops were with the King?"

"Thousands. I think the army numbered more than nine thousand, so three thousand or more died."

"All the wardens died with the King?"

"Most. Some wardens rode with the reconnaissance force and may have survived in the Wilds. Although given the size of the Horde that seems unlikely. Rumors say that the two Wardens in the tower survived. They call them traitors. Although, if the signal beacon had been lit on time and Teyrn Loghain had attacked, the whole army would have been lost. So perhaps, even if they didn't intend it, the two Wardens saved part of the army."

He hesitated, "I'm sorry if I've been too direct." He motioned toward her belts, visible beneath her open cloak. "You seemed able to take the truth."

"I am able, but it's a lot to take in. I can't imagine the horror you must have felt experiencing it. I appreciate your candor." She considered the thorough account the sergeant had provided. "How is it you have such a complete understanding of the battle? I don't mean that rudely, but it is unusual, is it not?"

"No, I understand. I'm a courier. I carried orders and messages between Teyrn Loghain and the King and Warden Commander, so I had a better understanding of the battle plan and its failure than most. I attended the War Council, as did the other staff. As I moved between the Teyrn and the King, I had a good view of the field." He sat quietly for a moment, but found he felt better as he told his tale to this quiet young woman. "My last message from Teyrn Loghain was an oral one. He advised the King to withdraw and save himself. I never delivered it. His Majesty fell before I could reach him. Warden Commander Duncan fell with him. I saw King Cailan fall to an ogre from a bridge above the valley. Duncan killed the ogre, but then fell as more darkspawn attacked. I returned to Teyrn Loghain with that news."

"Did you speak to him?"

"Yes. He…I've rarely seen him show strong emotion. It was brief, but the pain in his eyes…I can't describe it. I believe he said Damn fool had to play at being a hero. The he said either Maker or Maric, I'm not sure, forgive me, I couldn't keep them safe. Cailan was like a son to him I think. Leaving him, even just his body, had to be most difficult for the Teyrn, but he saved the army."

"So Ca…the King had fallen before Teyrn Loghain retreated? He couldn't have saved him?"

"I was not with the Teyrn when the retreat began. I caught up with him and delivered my news as they marched away from the ruins, but he could not have saved them. The beacon signal came too late. The king died just before it flared. As I said, had it been on time, the outcome would have been worse and the whole army would have been lost."

"How horrible to realize it's a lost cause, but continue to fight. Could they not retreat from the valley?"

"No, the Tevinters built up either side of the valley and a mountain rose at its back. If there were paths out, they were for goats, not soldiers."

They sat silently staring at the Andraste statue for some time. "He said he couldn't keep them safe? What did that mean?"

"I don't know. I wondered at that myself. I can only assume them meant the army." He fell silent again, as the chanters droned on.

"May I ask one other question."

"Of course, miss."

"Why aren't you with the army?"

The courier smiled. "You think me a deserter?"

"No, I'm just overly curious I suppose. And trying not to think about what happened to Aengus. I'm sorry." Her eyes glittered with unshed tears.

"It's a fair question. I'm with the Gwaren troops, the Teyrn's own. He wants watchers, separate from the official patrols, to look for surviving wardens or others and see they are apprehended." He smiled wanly. "I'm quite sure you are not a warden, miss."

"Or an Orlesian. A trooper told us the Teyrn feared the Orlesians would use the darkspawn threat to invade."

"I know the Teyrn has said that. Before Ostagar, I might have agreed. Now, I believe that Horde is the important threat. A few of us saw a dragon just before the battle ended. I don't know if it was the Archdemon, but I have no doubt the Archdemon is out there. Not that the Orlesians won't use the threat. We must be vigilant at our borders, but we must unite against the darkspawn. The Horde poses the greater threat." He smiled again. "I hope I answered your questions. I'm sorry for you loss. Ostagar…I've never had a worse day. I fear we may see many more, however, once the darkspawn move north. The Horde is a terrible thing. Go home. Move your family north. Lothering will not be safe. Once it falls, neither will the Bannorn."

Neither is Highever. There is no safety in Ferelden.

"You have my thanks, for your honesty, sergeant. At least I can tell my parents that Aengus and our friends did their best for Ferelden. I will pray for all of them. I'm sorry for friends you must have lost." She stood up, brushing a tear away. "If you'll excuse me, I will go find my companions. Thank you again for your kindness. May the Maker watch over you, Sergeant Tuder."

"Thank you, Mistress Melys, and over you."

Mel walked to the front of the Chantry and lit a candle. The chanters droned behind her. She tried to think of an appropriate verse from the Chant, but failed. In spite of that, the action calmed her. Finally, a verse from a song came to her.

Shades of grey wherever I go

The more I find out the less that I know

Black and white is how it should be

But shades of grey are the colors I see.[1][2]

Of course, certain things were black and white. Howe deserved death. She had no reservations about him, but clearly each person she spoke with had a different version of Ostagar. She found she trusted Sergeant Tuder. His feelings had been for the people who died, not hatred for the wardens or the king or Loghain. She stood staring at the candles for a long time. I'm sorry Papa. I tried to find Fergus. I won't stop trying, but for the first time I'm not sure I'll succeed.

When she looked up Sergeant Tuder had gone. She walked out of the Chantry shivering in spite of the warm, sunny day. She pulled up her hood and wrapped her cloak around her. She had not come to terms with what she had been told. Cailan dead. All the wardens dead. Alistair must be dead, Arl Philipp and Ser Gilmore too. All the Highever troops who had marched with her brother and the Arl. Duncan and all the Ferelden Wardens must have been present. And Fergus…Maker even Fergus. Oblivious to her surroundings she stumbled into a helmeted soldier as she approached the bridge.

"Sorry," she mumbled, as he grasped her by the arms to steady her. She turned away, fearing any conversation would destroy her self-control. If she was going to cry, it would be in the solitude of the windmill. She hurried across the bridge.

The warrior looked after her curiously. "Attacking young women now, Templar?" the woman beside him said.

"What! No! Of course not, she ran into me. I just…steadied her"

"Ah yes, steadying. Well, perhaps you should watch where you put your hands when you steady a young woman."

"Maker, Morrigan, I only touched her arms, which were covered by her cloak, I might add."

"So you say. Clearly she thought otherwise."

The man groaned. "Right. I think she was already upset. For once, I doubt I was the cause."

"Perhaps."

Their third companion sighed. He had grown tired of the bickering between Morrigan and the warrior. "Let's just find the Chantry Board and see if we can earn some coin."

The woman and two men headed toward the Chantry.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Mel climbed the stairs to the loft and crept out on the balcony. She laughed bitterly, a tactical retreat, indeed. She remembered discussing tactical retreats with Teyrn Loghain and Alistair after one of Loghain's Rebellion stories. It had all seemed so exciting and interesting then. She blocked memories of Alistair's hazel, Fergus' brown or Cailan's blue eyes. What would Howe do in Denerim? Were Queen Anora, Pippa and even Delilah at risk? Everyone she loved in Ferelden, except her Mum and Kai, were dead or in danger. Her father, Oriana and Oren, Cousin Alys Broughten, Nan, Freya, Nyla, everyone in the Castle and the Arl's Keep. Arl Philipp must have died at Ostagar too. She suppressed her thoughts of those brief shining moments from another life, which she would treasure one day when she could think of them with less pain. Maker, how many more would suffer before this Blight ended.

Maybe she and Shep should go to Eremon in Waking Sea now. She breathed deeply, no, she would wait a few more days to see if Fergus turned up. She would not give up on him. Perhaps she should go to South Reach first. What if Cousin Leonas was dead too? Or Alfstanna. I don't know who was at Ostagar. I should have asked. But why would a minor Bann's daughter care?

Redcliffe might be an option. Eamon and Teagan oppose Howe, but I don't know what Howe intends now that he holds the North. Will Orlais use Howe's actions as an excuse to invade? What will Eamon think of Loghain's retreat? Eamon and Teyrn Loghain have always been adversaries.

With Cailan dead and Princess, no Queen, Elin a toddler, who would become Regent? Will Eamon try to take control as Cailan's uncle? Did Cailan leave a will? Instructions of any kind? Anora, as Queen Consort, had no right to succeed, but she could become regent for her daughter. What would Teyrn Loghain do? A Landsmeet should be called. Maker, would the land divide and descend into Civil war? She raised her hands to cover her ears as if to silence her thoughts. Sergeant Tuder is right. The days can only get darker. Engulfed by the news and her musings, Mel curled up on her bedroll next to Shep and tried to sleep.


A/N:Thank you for reading. If you have time, please review. I appreciate all followers, favorites, kudos and comments.

Thanks to my wonderful betas Kira Tamarion and ElyssaCousland. They make it a better story. Any remaining errors are mine.

Thanks for thereviews! and comments to SnowHelm,clafount, dustywalker, Pervinca T, SagaMus, ChaoticHarmony1991 and Mike3207. Thanks, also, to those who favorited, followed and gave kudos. I hope you continue to read and enjoy.


[2]Shades of Grey, Billy Joel