Rescue and Escape
The Orlesians made no secret of the poor Queen of Ferelden's presence in Jader … there because she needed the Orlesian's help. At first, that just made Alistair angry, even though he kept trying not to care. He wished he could turn off his conscience and just look the other way … but that would make him as blind as Loghain had been. Then, one night he woke up from a nightmare and realized how he could use the situation to his advantage. After Alistair suffered a week of little sleep and much anxiety, he knew what he needed to do. He started the process to be approved to visit Anora as the Warden-Commander of Ferelden.
The Warden-Commander of Ferelden … another reason for Alistair's anxiety and sleeplessness.
Just as he was finishing his morning training routine, Commander Alman sent for him. He didn't have too long before the time of his scheduled afternoon audience with Anora. However, he had enough time for a quick bath before donning his armor and new commander tabard, wanting to look as official as possible. Alman had already arranged a ship to head to Ferelden that evening with supplies and additional armor and armaments for the warden compound in Denerim. Alistair wasn't supposed to leave for another week, but he packed all his personal items and had them ready anyway. He had no idea what was going to happen when he saw Anora. If an opportunity arose, he might have to make a quick getaway.
Alistair entered Alman's office and returned the book that was loaned to him that first night. "Thank you for letting me borrow that, Commander. I wish I'd had it a year ago, after Ostagar."
Alman frowned. "Things might have gone much differently, eh? I'll tell you what. Keep it." He paused. "We may be moving this compound soon." He paused again. "Alistair, I'm afraid I have some news that might impact the timing of your return to Ferelden."
Alistair sat in one of the two chairs in front of Alman's desk and laughed. "You know, I'm going to quit coming in here if all you're going to do is give me more news to keep me up at night, Commander."
"I will miss your sense of humor, Alistair … and call me Alman. We are of equal rank now." He went to a sideboard. For the first time, Alistair noticed that Alman had also started to pack. The Nevarran filled two glasses with something amber and likely alcoholic and handed one to Alistair. He sat in the other guest chair and leaned forward. "The Nevarran fleet is headed to Jader and will be attacking with the dawn. You need to take the supply ship to Denerim tonight. The rest of the wardens … the wardens that I trust … will be taking another ship to Cumberland at the same time."
Alistair set the untouched glass down and got up from his chair. He felt like throwing the glass at a wall. "You do realize that the Queen of Ferelden is in the palace here, don't you, Alman?"
"I do. And, I am sorry about that, but I don't see how we can do anything about it. We aren't supposed …" Alman didn't get the chance to finish.
"Don't you dare quote warden neutrality to me … Alman," Alistair shouted in the Jader Commander's face as he grabbed the man's tunic and drew him up out of his chair. "A good friend of mine once told me that I had to learn that everyone was only out for themselves. Thank you for teaching me the final chapter in that lesson."
"Alistair." Alman pulled his tunic from Alistair's fist. To his credit, he didn't try to step away from the very angry Ferelden. "I will not insult you by mentioning warden neutrality, but this is not your war. Go home and be what the wardens should be."
"Not my war?!" Quietly but very distinctly, Alistair hissed, "Just what do you think the Orlesians will do when your Nevarran navy attacks? They'll kill Anora and blame it on the Nevarrans. That makes it my war."
"Very perceptive, my handsome and virile Warden-Commander Alistair." The lilt of the male Antivan voice made Alistair spin toward the storeroom door while Alman pulled his sword.
"Zevran?!" Alistair might have broken out in a smile if he hadn't been so completely flabbergasted. "What are you doing here!?"
"You know this elf?" Alman said, failing to hide his distaste. Alistair didn't know if the distaste was due to Zevran being an elf, a male, an Antivan, a friend of Alistair … or all of those things. But, Alman did sheathe his sword.
"Are you glad to see us, Alistair?" Leliana stepped around Zevran.
Alistair just hugged her while she giggled. "How did you get in here?" he asked both of them.
Alman answered. "There is a tunnel system below Jader that is used by the bards. One of the exits is in my storeroom." He raised an eyebrow. "I must have moved the crate covering the trapdoor and failed to replace it."
Feeling that there was more to that story, but not wanting to know, really, Alistair then turned to Alman, all traces of merriment gone from his face. "I will be getting my things and leaving now with Leliana and Zevran through this secret tunnel. As soon as we can get the Queen out of Jader, I will wish Nevarra all good fortune with their invasion."
It took only moments for Alistair to run and grab his already packed gear. As soon as he descended the ladder from the trap door with Leliana and Zevran, they all heard Alman shove some crates over the door.
Once a little way down the tunnel, Alistair stopped them. "I have an audience with Anora in a little while." At Zev's and Leliana's surprised looks, he asked, "You're here to rescue her, aren't you?"
Leliana laughed as Zev answered. "Yes, my friend, and we were just commiserating about how we would go about that. Leliana, my dear, where do these tunnels have an exit in the palace?"
"Hmm, the question is which one? There are at least seven that I can think of. Let's see … probably not in the throne room or the royal chambers or the armory or the baths…"
"There's a spy door to the baths?" Alistair was aghast.
"Oh yes! Drowning was a very popular form of assassination for a while," Leliana explained. Alistair was having a hard time wrapping his head around this open and matter-of-fact Bard Leliana.
"Very easy to make them look like they suffered a slipping accident," Zevran further explained. Such talk he expected from Zevran.
After chuckling at Alistair's reaction, Leliana continued, "There is an exit in the nursery … used for hiding the kidnapped children of contrary nobility." Alistair just shook his head. "They have one to a suite of guest quarters. This is a possibility." Then, she snapped her fingers. "No! The kitchens! There is a suite of rooms with access to the kitchens. They would keep Anora there."
"Why there over the other guest chambers?" Alistair didn't get all this stuff and hoped he never did.
Leliana and Zevran shared a sad glance. She explained, "The suite off the kitchens isn't called the 'Deadman's Excuse' for nothing. It would be easy enough to claim an assassin, dressed as kitchen staff, snuck his way in and killed Anora while under Orlesian protection."
Zevran leaned closer. "It would be an Orlesian bard or some other assassin, Alistair, but they would leave clues that a Nevarran or someone else did it. The setup is just a way to claim a weakness in the palace that isn't really a weakness."
"Loghain would never believe anyone but an Orlesian would kill Anora like that." Alistair hadn't said that name in weeks. It had been rattling around his head constantly, though, since Alman told Alistair he was going to be Loghain's commander.
Leliana paused. "Maybe Loghain would not believe the word of an Orlesian, but the other nobility in Ferelden might and Loghain is no longer part of that nobility."
"Don't remind me," Alistair mumbled and then sighed. "But, we don't have the time to debate the finer points of alternative plans. The Nevarrans are about to start a war here. Get me near the front of the palace and I can have my meeting with Anora."
"Yes, we need to hurry." Leliana started down the tunnels and Alistair followed. Zev was lost in the shadows, likely following them at some distance. Quietly, Leliana added, "Since they know you have an appointment with Anora … and likely know about your disagreeable departure from Ferelden because of Anora … they will be pinning Anora's murder on you, Alistair. Loghain would believe that."
A large knot formed in Alistair's stomach. Not so much from Leliana's assessment. More from the fact that Alistair realized how many people would believe he could carry out the murder of Anora. At the very least, they would believe how he unwittingly set up his own trap.
"We will enter the palace through the kitchen storeroom exit and go to listen at the guest quarters' door." Leliana looked to Zevran who appeared out of the shadows and nodded in return. "If we hear your voice in the room, we will know it is the right one." She pulled out a stone below a lit torch and pulled out a small box from the recess. Inside it was parchment and ink. Leliana sat on the floor and wrote out a note.
It gave Alistair a moment to look around. The tunnels were well-maintained, dry and mostly dark. He wondered who came along and kept the torches lit … but really didn't want to know the answer. He just wanted to be gone from this place.
When she was finished, Leliana handed Alistair the note. "There are spy-holes throughout the palace, so Her Majesty is no doubt under constant watch. Try to carefully drop this into her lap. It explains what we are trying to do." After a pause, she added, "Don't get caught with it." Then, Leliana smiled at Alistair. "Just act normally, Alistair. Everything will work out fine."
They found Alistair an exit in a small alley near the palace. He exited, straightened his tabard and melded into the crowds in the street. After waiting a short time at the gate, he was escorted through the most opulent palace he'd ever seen. The green and tan stone floors were polished to a shine and the walls were covered with paintings and tapestries that looked very old and valuable. All the furniture was painted in whites, greens and golds. Alistair wondered if all the maids had emeralds in their belly-buttons. Anora's door had two guards on either side who looked like dangerous shiny statues. After such a confusing escort, Alistair knew he would never be able to find his way out … probably why they led him on such a lengthy and roundabout path.
His escort stopped and bowed. "Here is Her Majesty's suite, Warden-Commander. As was negotiated, you have one-half hour and I will come for you."
"Thank you," Alistair bowed in return. "I'm certain that will be enough time to inform Her Majesty of my appointment and pending departure for Ferelden next week." He prayed he didn't put too much emphasis on the "next week" lie. This sneaky business was just not his forte.
One of the dangerous shiny statues opened the door and Alistair stepped into a library. Anora was sitting on a chair, reading a book when he entered.
Anora seemed startled when she looked up, but quickly regained her composure. "Please leave us," she said to the shiny man who closed the door. After a long moment, she motioned to a chair across from hers. "You've let your hair grow, Alistair. It makes you look like your father."
And, right off, she caused his anger to rise. It must be a talent of hers, he mused. As Leliana had coached him, he stepped up to Anora's chair and bowed, dropping a small note into her lap. "I don't trust the barbers here in Jader." Then, he went to sit in the chair. "I am here to formally let you know that I have been appointed the new Warden-Commander of Ferelden. I shall be leaving for Ferelden by the end of the week." He watched Anora skillfully slip the note inside the book, open it and read the note as if she were reading a page of the book. Alistair took a deep breath and continued so she could finish the note. "I know I left Ferelden under questionable circumstances, but I have had time to rethink my hasty departure. The Wardens have given me a chance at redemption and I hope that you will as well … Your Majesty."
Anora narrowed her eyes at Alistair and he now wished he'd read what Leliana had written on that note. "Alistair, your departure was more than questionable." She snapped the book shut and stepped to the fireplace. He barely caught a shadow of the note being dropped into the flames. "Most countries would call it treason. You left Ferelden with a Blight. To be honest, I'm surprised the wardens don't see it as desertion."
Alistair sighed and sat back in the chair. "I was, too. Perhaps making me go back and have to command the man I wanted to kill is my punishment."
The note had sufficiently turned to ash as she spun on him. "That man is my father! He may or may not have died when the Archdemon attacked Denerim … and where were you? Sitting in some tavern here getting drunk?" Before Alistair could answer, she marched into an adjoining room. "Follow me." She led him into her bedroom and then into her bathing room … all as opulent as the rest of the palace. "This is my world now, Alistair!" He heard the unmistakable thump of a body hitting the floor, but miraculously didn't look. "These three rooms! I'm fed and cared for but trapped in these three rooms! And, it's all your fault!"
Alistair didn't know how to answer that … insanity. Then, he caught Anora's raised eyebrow. She wanted him to argue with her! So, he did. He stepped closer as he saw Leliana and Zevran and an unconscious elf on the floor out of the corner of his eye. The bard and the Crow slipped into the shadows of the bedroom as the argument went on. "That's insane, Anora, and you know it. The city was overrun. From what I was told, the chevaliers rescued you from certain death … and where was your almighty father? The great Loghain? He was failing, Anora. He failed to keep chevaliers out of the city. He failed to realize that everything he did prior to the Archdemon's attack hurt Ferelden, not helped it. He failed to keep you from being threatened by darkspawn. But, you know the worst failure? He failed Thedas by letting the Archdemon live!"
She slapped him. Hard. No act there. "Sit!" she commanded as she pointed to a chair by the door to the kitchens. She looked around and picked up a jar. It looked like she was going to throw it at Alistair … and he did duck … but it landed on an ornate painting of balloons. However, when Alistair viewed it from his vantage of below and to the side, he saw it … a small hole which Anora had just filled with a foul-smelling black viscous cream. "I need to practice my aim."
Alistair did a double-take with the cream. He knew that would keep them from seeing what was going on but they could still hear. "Look, Your Majesty, I came here to get written permission to re-enter Ferelden. You didn't exactly tell me I couldn't go back."
"No, I said that you had to swear not to harm me or my heirs." Leliana and Zevran finished whatever they did in the other rooms and were watching with rapt attention at the door to the kitchens.
Alistair sighed. "I so swear, Queen Anora of Ferelden, that I will never threaten you, your heirs or the crown of Ferelden. I will never foment insurrection or lead armies against you. I just want to do the best I can to lead the Ferelden Grey Wardens."
Anora paced, each pass getting closer to the door to the kitchens. "Keep sitting there while I compose that permission letter." But, she didn't. She left with Zevran and Leliana, who pressed a rolled letter in his hands. He hoped it would be good enough to get him out of the damned palace. He marched back through the bedroom and noticed that either the bard or the Crow had made it look like Anora was asleep in the bed. Then, he went into the library and beat on the door until they opened it. "Her Majesty is now taking a nap," he grumbled. "Doing her duty with one of her countrymen tired her out, I guess."
The escort from earlier was there in a few minutes to show Alistair out of the palace. That was the longest, most stressful walk he'd taken in a long time. Every screech of a chair, every slam of a door, every laugh or cough set Alistair's nerves on edge. But, he made it out of the grand front doors. On his way out of the gate, he heard his name being yelled from inside. Fortunately, the guards were busy laughing at some joke or other and didn't realize the yelled name was his.
He lengthened his stride to the street and had to force himself not to run. He made it outside the palace walls and into a crush of people going about their business. He almost missed the alley to the tunnel entrance, but managed to slip around the corner and hide behind a stack of crates just as the horns of the chevaliers sounded to clear the streets. He had to move quickly or lose his cover from the crowds of people. Just as he slid down the brick wall to edge to the end of the alley, the trapdoor opened a crack and Zevran beckoned him to wait a moment. After whatever reason for the delay passed by, the elf waved him to hurry to the trapdoor.
No words were exchanged as Alistair dropped down into the tunnels and started running in the direction that Leliana was taking them. He had no concept of direction along the darkened narrow passageways. He did notice that Anora had changed out of her fancy dress into an ill-fitting set of leather armor with a leather cap covering her hair. Zev threw a cloak over Alistair's shoulders and pulled the hood over his head as they made their way toward the exit to get clear of the city's walls. They could hear voices behind them in the tunnels. Fortunately, Leliana knew ways to lose them in the maze.
Of course, no escape attempt ever went smoothly in Alistair's experience. They ran into a crowd of Nevarrans who must have been getting ready to infiltrate key parts of Jader in advance of their invasion of the city. Alistair marveled at Leliana's perfect Nevarran accent as she explained something to them. It must have been good because the Nevarrans all patted Alistair on the back. They smiled and one whispered, "Well done." He only nodded back and pressed on with the bard. Alistair wasn't sure he wanted to know what she told them.
At last, they made it to the exit and out into the night. There were already patrols along the main road, so they angled toward the cliffs. The way was far from easy. And, they weren't alone. Just as they slid down the cliffs to await the rendezvous boat, they were met with a group of men who were also trying to hide from the patrols. These men didn't want anyone to survive to tell the patrols that they were there. Alistair pushed Anora down behind a rock as an arrow found its way into the back of his shoulder instead of into Anora. "Arrrrgh, stay down," he told her through clenched teeth.
Leliana made easy work of the archer, but a fireball put the Orlesian bard out of the action for a few minutes while she fumbled for a poultice. "They have a mage!" she screeched.
Alistair turned and had to spend too much precious time locating the mage. A chain of lightning soon ricocheted between Alistair and Zevran. However, it pinpointed the location of the caster. With a shout, Alistair centered his strongest smite on the mage. She went down like a sack of rocks in an earthquake. Zevran ran up and finished her. Alistair had wondered where the Crow had gotten to.
That just left three men. Guard types accustomed to swinging those swords which were as long as they were tall. There wasn't time to reach for a poultice for his shoulder, so Alistair just waded into the fray, knocking all of them down with his well-trained war cry. Zev took out one easily enough, but that made him a target for one of the other two. Alistair bashed him and got his attention back. Duncan's shield took a number of blows as Alistair danced defensively. Zevran backstabbed the one on Alistair's right. He must have been using a strong poison on his dagger because Alistair could sense the abrupt change in the man's ability. Two left. Unfortunately, the wide swing of the one on Alistair's left caught Zevran on his hip. It wasn't a fatal wound, but it would hamper Zevran's ability to get out of the way.
"Alistair! Watch out!" Anora's shout heightened Alistair's awareness and he managed to dodge a swing that would have taken off his weapon arm for certain. Maker! he chastised himself. I'm already out of practice in these overwhelming, life-and-death, no-way-to-win fights.
The two remaining attackers were wearing Alistair down too quickly. He went into "automatic" as he had to do so many times while traveling with Kayda. Forget any pain. Forget anything other than the two brutes who wanted to kill him. Alistair focused on staying up and alive and ignored the pain of any strikes that got through his armor. He focused on the vulnerable Queen of Ferelden … on Anora. He had gone too far to let her be killed by thugs. He didn't even take the time to pray that Leliana and Zevran would come back and finish off the two in front of him somehow. Stay up. Stay alive. Taunt and defend.
And then, somehow, the two bastards were dead at his feet. Alistair looked up at Zevran who was looking in horror at Alistair's waist. Alistair didn't even get to look down. The light winked out. He didn't feel the sand come up to meet him or hear Leliana and Anora shout as they ran up. Alistair said something, but it didn't register in his memory.
"Finally," Flemeth said under her breath as she sat back and away from the greyish-green vapors. She was speaking to herself since Morrigan had long ago gone to bed. "All it took was a pair of human eyes that had seen you to find you, boy. Convenient of the Orlesians to provide a pair for me."
In her own mind, the old witch was pleased. She had just seen Alistair running away from Jader toward a waiting ship. His friends would make certain he survived his injuries. He would soon be on his way back to Ferelden as the new Warden-Commander. He had grown up in the short time he'd been gone but he really no longer figured into Flemeth's plans. She just liked to keep tabs on Maric's boy, information she could use with Maric to keep him in line.
At this point, Flemeth had no idea where the Archdemon would show itself again. She had already prepared the ritual for Alistair, collecting all the needed blood while he was unconscious after Ostagar. Unfortunately, Morrigan's caustic personality had all but guaranteed that Alistair would have nothing to do with her, no matter who inhabited that body.
So, the ritual would need to be adjusted, made less specific as to subject, even though that might make its effectiveness less assured. Since Flemeth would be taking over Morrigan's body, it would definitely work out better if Alistair were not the Grey Warden to kill the Archdemon. She would have a chance to entice someone who had never met Morrigan.
Curiously however, her foresight still favored Alistair heavily as the one who would make the killing blow. And, he might, since Flemeth had no idea where the Archdemon would reappear yet.
The Archdemon's vessel went back to the place where it was most familiar: the Dead Trenches near Bownamar. So, either it would be directed to leave and seek out another dragon or it would stay there, protected by tens of thousands of darkspawn, to eventually shapechange into a new twisted and tainted dragon. Flemeth knew she'd have to keep an eye on that possessed hurlock.
She looked toward her hut and narrowed her eyes. Morrigan knew that Flemeth extended her life by possessing a daughter's body. She'd found the Black Grimoire in the Circle Tower after all. Why else would Morrigan have sent Cousland and her merry band of misfits to kill the old woman?
Flemeth knew Morrigan was only here to become more powerful in order to kill the old witch herself. But, Flemeth already knew how that would turn out. She smiled. Morrigan would put on the new highly enchanted attire whenever Flemeth deemed her ready or … Morrigan would kill Flemeth. Either way would trigger the possession.
AN: Thank you to all reviews, favorites and follows!
Have a great week! See you next Sunday! :)
