New Fereldens, Old Friends

Across the Waking Sea, Kirkwall got word that the Archdemon wasn't killed when it attacked Denerim and that it would show up again in a few months to a couple of years. Varric thought that such a long span of time made things a bit uncertain. The Ferelden Grey Wardens had botched the job, so, now it was anybody's guess where the Archdemon would pop up next.

"Sounds like there's not much of Ferelden left to interest the Archdemon anymore, so it could turn up here." Varric snickered at the drunk who said that. He was listening to the conversation at a nearby table because listening to Fenris go on about Tevinter again was boring. All the women swooned over the elf's sexy voice. Too bad that voice's subject matter was so predictable. The drunk went on to add, "Yeah, it could bust through the ground right here under the Hanged Man."

Varric punched the guy in the shoulder. "Nothing here for the Archdemon, either, Monroe." The dwarf nodded toward the entry door. "Why doncha' head home and leave the storytelling to those of us who know how to do it."

Carver sneered. "I dunno. I thought his storytelling was quite suspenseful."

"You would, Little Hawke." Carver's angry glare made Varric laugh.

Fenris threw down his hand and stood. "Good night. I'll meet you all at the city gate tomorrow morning."

"Aw, don't to away mad, Broody. It's just that word about the Blight is pretty much affecting everyone, so I listen when someone mentions the word," Varric lied.

"It's late anyway and I want to be ready to go after those mercenaries for that guy in the Chantry." He nodded and left.

Mason Hawke kept looking at his hand and then the stack of coin in the center of the table and then back to his hand. Then, he shoved in his own stack of sovereigns. Everyone folded and Mason's mabari, Tripper, barked his approval. The round finished and Hawke swept the pot into his pouch and grinned. "Love it when you guys distract Varric for me." He handed the two drunks at the nearby table a sovereign apiece. "I'll pay Fenris tomorrow."

"Ya know, Hawke, some would call for satisfaction after being cheated like that." Varric put his winning hand, face-down into the middle of the card stack. Hawke had few enough reasons to smile lately.

Carver groaned. "Please don't encourage him."

Varric was about to grouse about Carver's picking on his older brother when he noticed an armored man and woman enter the bar. They were wearing livery of what he thought was the Ferelden army. Varric leaned close to Mason and Carver. "You two take the dog and go up to my room now. Some Ferelden military just walked in and they're looking around. I'll find out why they're here."

Carver was a bit taller than Mason, but they were able to precede a tall guy and one of the wenches up the stairs, so Varric thought the Ferelden folk missed them. That was, until Varric saw Corff point to Varric's table and they started walking his way.

"Pardon us, but we were told that you know Mason and Carver Hawke. Is that true?" the woman asked.

Varric thought to himself, Corff didn't say they were here. Good man. "That's a long and involved story. Let me buy you both a drink. Have a seat." Varric noticed that the guy deferred to the woman, but they sat down. After drinks were ordered, Varric continued, "And, may I know who's asking about them?"

"My name is Ser Cauthrien and this is Lieutenant Cargan of the Ferelden army. We are not here to bring in deserters, but we are here to bring some of the refugees home, especially those who can use a weapon along. Of course, their families are also welcome to return with us." Nora put the drinks on the table. "The Hawke family was on a manifest of one of the ships we inspected and Cargan here recognized their name."

"And, of course, at the docks they told you to come to the Hanged Man to start asking around?" Varric laughed.

Cargan smiled. "Actually, they told us to come to the Hanged Man and speak with you, Varric."

Varric took a drink. "Why are you looking for the Hawke boys … and yeah, I know of 'em. They had signed on to help me and my brother on an expedition into the Deep Roads, but since the darkspawn are heading back underground at the moment, we've postponed it."

Cauthrien sighed. "Our country is in turmoil, Varric. We need every able-bodied soldier we can get to establish order. That's why we're going to the cities where people fled to escape the Blight. Do you know where we can find them? Please, we only want to talk to them."

Varric's thoughts were whirling. The Blight was technically gone in Ferelden, at least for a while, if his warden contact was being honest with him. Work was beginning to dry up here in Kirkwall and Varric had the feeling that Broody could stand to get away for a while. The hitch was Hawke's mother and sister.

In reality, Carver and Mason did desert. It was a story that Mason told Varric one night. It had been a bad week. Mason was drunk and depressed about the family living with his mother's bankrupt brother, Gamlen. Varric had to swear not to tell … at least, until the Blight was over.

The soldiers at Ostagar had witnessed too many arguments among the nobles and the king's confidence in their strength rang hollow. It made everyone uneasy. Mason and Carver were sent out with an ill-organized scouting mission led by Bann Loren. Early on, Carver had been sent back to Ostagar to get aid for a serious injury. The bann "volunteered" to go back with the injured. The rest of the scout group was almost all the way back to Ostagar when a group of darkspawn with an emissary attacked. Mason was the only one left breathing after the battle, but he was losing blood fast. He barely made it back to camp. It took a week for Mason and Carver to be back on their feet. But, they heard things while they lay in the open-air infirmary.

When Mason overheard a rumor that General Loghain was fed up and close to pulling his men from Ostagar, Mason stormed to his bivouac, grabbed something out of his chest and headed to a storage tent. When Carver followed and saw Mason looking over a map he'd stolen, he knew they were leaving. After Mason pointed out the likely path the darkspawn would take after Ostagar fell, Carver agreed without an argument. Time to gather up the family and head north. From what they heard later, Ostagar fell shortly after they deserted … just before the Hawke family took ship to Kirkwall.

So, Varric worried a bit about telling these Fereldens where the boys were. "Look, I'm not sure where they are right now, but I'll ask around. Which ship are you staying on?"

Cauthrien left their information, finished her ale and the pair headed out. Varric waited a while and then headed out himself, giving Corff a message to pass on to the Hawkes to stay put for the evening. Sure enough, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cauthrien and Cargan waiting around a corner. Varric headed up the stairs to Hightown, and they followed him.

An arrow flew past Varric's head as he reached the top of the stairs. "Here we go, Bianca," Varric said as he pulled his crossbow and ducked behind a barrel. He was surprised that the Ferelden soldiers came to help. In short order, the six or so attackers were lying dead.

"Why are your city guardsmen attacking on sight?" Cauthrien hadn't sheathed her sword yet and she looked really angry. Varric knew then he'd never want to be on the bad side of this woman.

Varric locked Bianca and stowed her away. "They're not. See?" Varric picked up one of the shields and peeled off a makeshift emblem. "There's an organized group here that dress up like …"

"Halt, beware that …" A real guard ran up. "I see you've already taken care of them for us." The guard took a pouch from his belt and threw it to Varric. "Thank you, Varric. New companions tonight?"

"Uh, yeah, Donnic. Pretty good in a fight, eh?" Varric surreptitiously shook his head slowly at Donnic and hoped he got it. "Hey, you seen the Hawke boys lately?"

Donnic was pretty smart. "Not for a while. Want me to keep an eye out for them?"

"Please, and let me know. Some folks are looking for them. I can get word to the ones looking." Varric winked at Donnic as he opened the pouch. "And, thanks for the appreciation!"

Donnic nodded and went back on his patrol. Twelve sovereigns in the bag. He handed four each to Cauthrien and Cargan. At first they declined, but Varric insisted. "Hey, the guard doesn't always pay, sometimes the bastards just stand there and watch. You earned this."

For the first time, Cauthrien smiled a little as she sheathed her sword. "Thank you. We'll head back to the ship now." They turned to go and Cauthrien turned back. "By the way, have you ever heard of Alistair Theirin?"

Yeah, Varric thought to himself, I've heard of the bastard son of Maric the Savior, but he only scratched his head. "Nope, but I'll ask around about him too if you want."

They looked at each other. Cargan answered. "That's not necessary." He grinned. "I suspect if you've not seen him, he isn't here."

Varric laughed. "Yeah, I try to keep my eyes and ears open."

They waved and headed back down the stairs. Alistair Theirin, royal bastard and Grey Warden, wasn't in Ferelden anymore? There was definitely a story there! Nothing exciting was going on in Kirkwall and the expedition was stalled until the Blight was over, so Varric went where the stories were.

He headed back to the Hanged Man and explained what had just happened. Curiously, it was Carver who convinced Mason that they needed to go back. They needed to get their mother Leandra away from her sleezy brother … as well as get their mage sister Bethany far, far away from Knight-Commander Meredith and the most oppressive Circle of Magi in Thedas. Fenris didn't want to leave Danarius' mansion in case his old master returned. Mason mentioned that Ferelden was the perfect place to get lost in. Mason used the hatred of slavers in Ferelden and convinced Broody to come along.

Varric kept to himself the rumors he'd heard about Loghain selling elves to Tevinter slavers to pay for his military. Surely they wouldn't run into the new Warden Loghain. Ferelden's a big country, right? Varric rationalized to himself.

By the end of the week, the Hawke brothers — along with their mother Leandra and sister Bethany — Varric, Fenris, and a whole bunch of other Ferelden refugees were on their way to Denerim, gratis the Ferelden military.

The voyage started out with high spirits and optimism about what might lie ahead in Ferelden; however, once under way, they all became aware of a Templar on board. Mason rallied everyone to protect Bethany and keep her from the Templar's notice. However, during a storm, Fenris was slashed pretty badly on a hook as he slid across the deck. Without thinking, Bethany healed the cut. Everyone got silent as they realized Irminric was standing behind her. Mason tried to work his charm and Varric attempted to rationalize with the Templar, but he was resolute that Bethany needed to be taken to the Circle once they docked.

Fortunately, Irminric wasn't and asshole and didn't try to keep Bethany away from her family, but he was always present. Surprisingly, Bethany wasn't upset at all. The poor girl had always felt guilty that her magic kept the family on the run. She and Irminric spoke about the Circle in Ferelden. He confirmed the rumors about the Circle falling to abominations even though he was trapped in a prison by that time. Varric tapped him for his story, and even Mason felt pity for the Templar. Loghain Mac Tir stole a captured blood mage from the Templar and then, that blood mage ended up poisoning Arl Eamon Guerrin, brother to Queen Rowan! Once that tale was permanently etched into Varric's head, he found out that Ser Cauthrien was Loghain's second officer and leader of Maric's Shield!

Varric wasn't a religious dwarf, but he gave thanks to the Maker to be on this particular ship. He would barely have enough time to get all his thoughts down on parchment before they landed in Denerim in a few days!

This waiting game was driving Fergus insane! He got a letter from Loghain. No reinforcements were available, but ships had been sent out to repatriate refugees. Fergus had to be careful not to call them deserters. The men they would round up were deserters to Fergus' mind, but Ferelden needed everyone they could get … and, to be fair, the darkspawn and their festering taint was a lot scarier sort of monster than even the Orlesians.

The scouting reports were coming in from all parts of the terynir. Feravel Plains had been spared the horde, only to fall to the massing darkspawn in the north. It was grim to consider, but one thing was in Ferelden's favor: these chevaliers had no idea how to fight darkspawn, not that Fergus knew much more. In an darkspawn attack not too long ago, Vigil's Keep lost a full third of the company of chevaliers stationed there. No sighting of Orlesian reinforcements coming for them, either … so far. Because of that, it was likely that the Vigil would be the first target to retake for Ferelden.

And Redcliffe had been taken by chevaliers as well … chevaliers who were enemies of Empress Celene. Other than the mention of Queen Anora's abduction by the Orlesians, no more information than that was in Loghain's missive. He wondered how Eamon Guerrin lost Redcliffe Castle. The man was a skilled debater, but a horribly awful military leader. Pity Rendorn Guerrin didn't impart some of that tactical mindset to his eldest son. Someone with a military mind needed to take over that post. Even Eamon's younger brother Teagan would have been better. But first, the Fereldens would need to succeed in ousting these Orlesians who apparently looked to Ferelden as a free range to fight out their differences without marring their precious Orlesian landscapes.

A chuckle brought Fergus out of his reverie. "You look like you have a headache … or like you're constipated." Anders was always around somehow with a quip or barb.

"A good description … the Orlesians are a pain in the ass whose actions are giving me a headache." Fergus allowed himself a smile. "Or, vice versa."

"Your Grace!" Ser Nathan ran up to Fergus' outside strategy table. After catching his breath, he reported, "The chevaliers know about the tunnel off the larder now."

"Damn." Fergus threw down the parchment he was reading. "That puts Ines in danger. Is there any way to get her out of there?"

Nathan's face looked grim. "No, Your Grace." He paused as if his next words would strangle him. "Her … her body is hanging by the front gate."

Fergus found himself at a loss for words. The seething anger in his belly choked off the air he needed to breathe. Ines had been a servant of Highever. She survived the sacking of the castle and the murders of everyone else by being smart. She knew all the hiding places in the castle and all the secret rooms and tunnels. Ines was alive just last night when she handed her report to Fergus himself at the larder tunnel door. They must have caught her replacing the sacks of flour. If they already killed her, then they foolishly didn't take the time to question her. Fergus knew it would have taken days to torture the information out of such a strong woman. He took a deep breath. While he'd been thinking, Famar and Will walked up, their faces red with anger. He turned to his trusted lieutenants. "She will be avenged for her bravery. If they threw her away like so much refuse, then they failed to get anything out of her beyond that tunnel." He turned to Will. "Gilgan, take some men and collapse this end of the tunnel. Go as far in as you can."

"It's half-collapsing already, take out a few support beams and it'll be closed for good." He nodded and left.

Famar leaned on the table. "She was our main source of information inside the castle, Your Grace … and she was a good Ferelden. We need to find another way to put someone inside."

"Perhaps I know of a way." The unfamiliar Nevarran accent made everyone around the camp pull their swords, but stay any attack for the moment.

Fergus swung around and then laughed. "Anton Pentaghast! Only you could sneak your way this far into my camp."

Anton was a wiry man, handsome, a bit stooped due to a back injury, shoulder-length salt and pepper hair, scruffy beard and tanned complexion. His black leather armor was well-worn but supple, making no sound as he moved. He walked up to Fergus and put his hands on Fergus' shoulders. "We only just got word about the tragedy here, my old friend. I always thought Howe was a devil. And then, to be usurped by the swine chevaliers. We were all distressed to hear such news."

"Thank you. I'm trying to delay my grieving until after we rout these bastards." Fergus frowned. "So, what are you doing here and what news do you bring?"

Anton combined a deep breath with a long sigh. "King Markus is dead and Ferdinand abdicated." His face reddened. "Old Ferdinand couldn't allow things like duty to get in the way of his hunts."

"So, there's no one on the throne of Nevarra?" Fergus was surprised but not totally shocked. Nevarra's leadership had been teetering for a while.

The Nevarran shook his head. "As you know, my mother died a few years ago. My father married Armella Van Markam in a seemingly innocuous ceremony. Just as we did in years past, a Pentaghast married a Van Markam to insure succession. The agreement was done in secret. The negotiations were done behind the backs of the Mortalitasi who had gained way too much influence over the throne. At Markus' entombment, my father stepped forward and took over the rule with little argument."

"So, it's Prince Anton now, eh?" Fergus laughed.

"What are the Mortalitasi?" Famar asked.

Anton spit on the ground next to him. "They are creatures of the Void, a death magic cult, in my opinion … mages who officiate our Grand Necropolis and mummify the elite. They have corrupted our ancient burial ceremonies and influenced the rule of Nevarra for too long. We finally have a strong Grand Enchanter in Cumberland who can resist their magic. Fiona has pledged to my father to put up wards around the castle and enchant items that he wears at all times against their foul magic. The new Divine is sending Seekers to gather them up, split them apart and place them in various Circles around Thedas."

Anders snickered. "Good luck with that. I read about the Mortalitasi. They'll just fade into the shadows and seem to disappear until they pop up later … like gas from eating too many of Famar's beans."

"Thank the Maker you didn't arrive yesterday," Fergus told Anton in a loud aside. Then, after the laughter from the nearby men died down, he added, "That's a lot of change at one time, Anton. How stable is Nevarra now?"

"Heh, I haven't told you the best part! Nevarran forces are also taking Jader as we speak." Anton's grin faded as he looked around the group of apprehensive faces. "I assure you that does not mean any ill will toward Ferelden."

Fergus shook his head. "No, that's not why we're concerned, Anton. We recently found out that our Queen Anora was kidnapped by the Orlesians and taken to Jader. We've gotten no other word about her status."

"I have news about that as well, Fergus." Anton's smile returned. "We already had scouts in the city who kept us informed before our launch from Cumberland. The Orlesians were bragging all over Jader about helping the poor Ferelden monarch, saving her from the darkspawn and the inept protection of the Ferelden wardens and military. So, we had a group of our stealthiest ready to rescue your queen when what did we discover? She had already been rescued by two of Ferelden's stealthiest and a Grey Warden. We found out later he was to be Ferelden's new Commander of the Grey. With the Maker's grace, they got out of the city and she is aboard a ship bound for Denerim right now."

A collected sigh of relief traveled around the nearby men and women. "You bring us the best news yet, Anton. Now, tell me this idea to get someone inside …"

Fergus was interrupted by Gilmore, running up and out of breath. "Your … Your Grace, we just spotted Isolde Guerrin and a group of Redcliffe men and servants riding up to the Highever gates."

"Doesn't the fool woman know it's been taken?! Did you try to stop her?" Fergus was looking around for his helm, just as everyone was reaching to re-armor and get ready to attempt a rescue.

Gilmore's hand on Fergus arm stopped him. "We were about to break cover to run up to her when the gates opened and a chevalier rode out to meet her." Roddy waited until he had everyone's attention. "The chevalier got off his horse and took a knee in front of the Arlessa. Then, an escort rode out and they ceremoniously led her inside as if she were lady of the castle."

The camp became still as a summer morning with no breeze, only a hint of the blazing heat to come. Nathan voiced the one word that had come to everyone's mind. "Traitor."

"Well, now we know how Redcliffe fell so easily." Fergus spun toward Anton. "We must get someone inside."

Anton nodded. "Hear me out before you throw me out of your camp. During our many campaigns against the Orlesian nobility, we have met many of their poor … displaced landholders, mistreated servants and the like. These are invisible to the nobility's and the chevaliers' eyes … and so, they are the Orlesians' weakness. I have three such with me. They have served Nevarra well in Jader, but had to flee before the attack. I believe they can be your eyes and ears."

"It's so hard to trust anyone with an Orlesian accent, Anton." Fergus sighed and sat on a crate which served as a chair. He looked around at the people surrounding him. "We will need to meet them." He stood. "Join our camp with the three you mention." He turned to Gilmore. "I don't want them to feel ill at ease, but I need to know what you men think. So, speak with them. Ask them questions and try to swallow your biases … as I will also promise to do. Perhaps, we can get them inside tomorrow with the restock delivery for Highever castle."

After everyone nearby nodded, Fergus turned to Anton with a bit of a grin. "So, Your Highness, would you like to join me in my tent or do you have your own pavilion with servants and guards?"

"Cheeky bastard," Anton mumbled, but then laughed. "Even after all this, you still can joke. This is good." He stretched his back as much as he could with the lingering effects of his injury. "Your tent should suffice … Your Grace … as I have been sleeping in the open for much too long."

Fergus watched his old friend walk away with Gilmore and Famar. They would see to their potential Orlesian spies … or rather, Ferelden spies who were Orlesian. Fergus sat again and looked up to the sky, clear blue with a few puffy white clouds. He spoke to his father in his mind. I know you are at the Maker's side, Father. Better there then here, I think. Watching all you worked for crumble before your eyes. Is this cycle all we have to look forward to … occupation, freedom, our own misjudgments causing civil war and paranoia, Blight?

He paused and smiled as he thought he heard his father's laughter which lightened his despondency and answered his own question. Of course, the cycle would continue for that was the way of things. To create problems and chaos. To solve the problems and regain order … for a time. Then, Fergus remembered something his little sister once told him after a considerable spell of knight squabbles in Highever, "What? You want everyone to be happy and think as you do? How boring, Fergus!" He also prayed that Kayda was all right and that he would be able to see her soon.

AN: Thank you for all reviews, favorites and follows! :)

Pervinca T, thank you for your review! :) Well, Loghain did make his bed. It's a good thing he's opening his eyes a bit, yes? I wonder if Alistair will open his eyes as well? ;) And, I apologize that I left you hanging on that cliff for one more week. Maybe we'll find out what happened to Alistair next week? Maybe not? ;)

Sironblood1, such nice things you say! Thank you! :) This has been a fun whirl into a new story and I'm glad you're enjoying it with me. :)