Chapter 10

"What's going on out there?" Cauthrien asked as soon as the door had closed behind him. He rounded the corner to see her already frowning, but it deepened to confusion as he went straight to the door of the cell. "Nathaniel-"

"I'm in charge of the keep until further notice," he said, fitting the key in the lock and looking up to meet her questioning gaze. She was close, one hand curling around a bar. "We may be under siege soon. And I need your help."

It was the easiest way to put it.

He watched her turn over the idea, his hand tense and trembling on the key. Her gaze lost focus and her throat bobbed.

"… Does the Warden know about this?" she asked at last.

"No," he said. "This was Justice's idea. I cleared it with Varel. A room is being outfitted for you now."

"I don't even know if I can fight-"

"I need you to tell me how to lead men," he said, and turned the key half-way, leaning his weight on it and ducking his head to catch her gaze as it dropped. "And I need to know that if you need to, you can run. We were lucky last time, that only one of the darkspawn found us. If we're overrun again…"

He trailed off. Cauthrien's fingers twitched on the metal, then tightened around it. She nodded.

He turned the key.

The latch hadn't seemed so loud when it was the guard who unlocked his cage and dragged him out on aching feet. Now it was only surpassed by how his heart thundered in his ears. His lips twitched into a small smile, and then he stepped back.

He watched, not moving, not breathing, as she took her first step out of the cell. Her feet were bare and blackened with dirt. The floor was no different inside than out, and yet she moved cautiously and he watched as if she would meet with trouble. He held his breath.

She took a second step, hand leaving the metal bar, and then she looked at him.

Nathaniel nodded to her, and she nodded in turn. She looked to the hall that would lead to the door. "… What do you need of me first?"

Her voice washed over him and he let go of the door, sliding the key from the lock and folding it back against his palm. "Can you take the time to wash up? Be fitted for armor? Rest, even."

"Can we talk as we walk?" she asked, and he nodded. "Then I think I can do that. Lead on, Commander."

Three hours after he left her at the door to her room, she entered the audience hall, washed and dressed and quite determinedly not asleep. She had no sword hanging from her belt, to keep the nobles who remained satisfied, but he could still see the ripple that went through the lingering crowd as she passed through it. From where he sat, Nathaniel couldn't quite restrain his smile, though it turned lopsided as she approached.

"Commander," she greeted him. He waved it away.

"I thought I said to get some rest," he said.

"The bed was too soft," she replied with a shrug and a quirk of her lips.

She was thin and still a little pale and ashen, but the way she stood spoke of long years of training and long years of pride. He had a feeling that this was the closest to the old Ser Cauthrien he had ever seen her.

"I'm not sure I can do anything about that," he said with an amused shake of his head, "except to offer you the floor, which I'm sure you've already thought of."

"I'll try it again later."

It was so strange, seeing her there, before him. It was strange without bars between them, and strange with a different backdrop. It was strange- and exhilarating. She seemed to feel it too. Despite the tension in the air she was quick to offer little smiles that were more than cynical twitches.

She glanced over her shoulder to the nobles, then back to him. "What do you need me to do?"

He pursed his lips, sitting back. "Have you fought darkspawn before?"

"I was allowed to fight at the Battle of Denerim, yes," she said, "though I only had command of a small team in a relatively secure location."

"If I walked you through what I've learned about them, could you go over how I have the defenses set up, and see if you could improve them?"

"Of course." Her gaze strayed back to the nobles. "… You realize," she said, "it would be best to send them towards Denerim, if the threat is not too great, or to put them under house arrest? Here, they'll just get under foot."

"I'm sure they'll be delighted to hear that," Nathaniel said, shaking his head. "Except that my father's sympathizers have all been killed. Funny - I hadn't noticed any of that going on."

"Probably for the best. What will you do?"

He shrugged. "Advise them to leave for Denerim, and renew the offer of protection should they need it. Some have brought their household guard, and we can use all the soldiers we can get. I don't want to give orders to them - it will only bring up problems about my father, or encourage sedition against Vana, I'm sure."

She nodded. "Probably the right decision," she said.

There was the rattling sound of a man approaching in full armor, and Cauthrien turned and Nathaniel looked around her to watch Justice's approach. He stopped several paces from Cauthrien and bowed.

"It is good to see you well, Cauthrien," he said. Nathaniel pushed himself up from his chair and came to join her.

"Justice," he said. "Is there anything to report?"

"A scout has returned."

His blood turned to pricking shards of ice in his veins. "And?"

"Nothing certain. There has been movement, but the scout said the force did not move towards the Vigil. However, it also does not move towards Amaranthine City." He turned to Cauthrien as he spoke, and Nathaniel frowned.

That was-

"Cauthrien, you have more experience in these matters than I. In the Fade there are occasionally little wars acted out from the dreams of mortals, but I do not know how to interpret signs of the real event."

She shifted uncomfortably. "Have we received word from the city at all?"

"None." Nathaniel shook his head. "They'll have only just arrived. Unless they met with trouble on the road, a messenger won't come for another five or six hours at least, likely more."

Cauthrien nodded, the movement restrained and thoughtful. "But we know that darkspawn marched on the city?"

"I've looked over the original report," Nathaniel said. "They've been fighting off an encroachment for two days at least."

"And we only just received word?"

Justice frowned. "That is not so long after I left the city. Curious- I could feel none when we were there. Cauthrien-"

Nathaniel stepped forward. "Cauthrien is here to advise, not to give orders," he said.

Justice looked at him impassively. "She is more qualified than you. She is also a better… person." Cauthrien sputtered and Nathaniel clenched his jaw. "That is to say, she has done penance for her crimes. You-"

"I am not a thief," he said, sharply. "I was caught trying to retrieve my family's things, wrongfully taken from my family. And I would argue that I have done my penance, in darkspawn killed and service rendered, as well as intention. I am acting commander of this fort, Justice."

Cauthrien nodded before Justice could respond. "Nathaniel is correct. Myadvice," she said, looking between the two, "would be to double the number of scouts; that way, if the horde overtakes one, another is more likely to see and come back to us. And I would also continue to assume that the horde plans to attack us here. I don't know the situation, but I do know that it is unwise to underestimate the 'spawn. We thought they marched on Redcliffe, during the Blight - by the time the army returned to Denerim, the city was burning and in shambles."

"Will you be able to fight?" Justice asked. "If they come?"

She hesitated, and then shook her head. "No. I would not count on it. I haven't held a sword in eight months."

"Then I will defend you, should it come to that."

Nathaniel grit his teeth but said nothing.

"Not necessary," Cauthrien said. "The fort should be kept before any one person. To defend one person only is a path to ruin."

Justice nodded, slowly. "You have explained this, yes. I- apologize."

"No offense taken." She sighed and looked to Nathaniel. "Commander, do you still want to go over darkspawn tactics…?"

"Yes," he said, and motioned for her to precede him out of the hall. "Let's move some place more quiet. Justice-"

"Armoring, yes. Master Wade says that he has done all that he can."

"Then go up to the ramparts and make sure that all the arching points have full stocks of arrows. And find Anders, wherever the blasted mage has gone off to."

Justice nodded, and Nathaniel left the hall at a clip, Cauthrien's long legs the only reason she could keep up.

It hadn't rained in a week, not since the night he had returned raging from the city with the truth of his father's life dragging him down into the mud. He hadn't thought of it, but the next day after Vanadia had left, as the sun began to set, he decided that he would have preferred a deluge.

They could hear the march of feet across the dry ground, a darkspawn army that seemed far too strong to withstand, there just over a rise. The mass couldn't be seen, not yet, but he could hear them. He could hear the steady march. There was a drum beat of sorts.

Darkspawn, marching.

Beneath the outermost walls, Dworkin's team worked to dig the trenches and lay the explosives. They had started far from the main gate and now worked their way back. He watched them. They would have enough time to finish the job - he hoped. But there was always the chance of something going wrong. There was always the worry that the gate plugging the entrance to the Deep Roads would fail, and darkspawn would boil up from beneath the ground. There was always the fear that even if everything went as planned, they would still lose.

He thought of Cauthrien, dragged off by darkspawn to be made into a broodmother, and then he banished it.

They had worked side by side the entire last day, breaking only for sleep with the worry that they would be too exhausted to fight the coming day. She was a brilliant tactician and she understood anxiety and nerves and the way soldiers acted under pressure. She caught a riot before it began, separating the guards of two nobles and having ale distributed. Just enough, she said, to settle them, but not enough to rile them again.

If he could have given her anything, it was more time and more bodies. As things stood, he simply thanked the Maker that he had listened to Justice and brought her to his aid. He wasn't sure they would have survived without her alterations, her plans. He wasn't sure they would survive now, either. But if the day could be won, it would be at her direction.

He wished he could give her more time. He wished, too, that he could givethem more time. He had no room for the anxious fluttering in his chest when she came too close or when she sat by his side. He had no room to notice how her entire face lit up when she spoke of tactics or when she gave orders.

It had been a nerve-wracking decision, letting her give orders directly. There had been murmuring. There had been low complaints. But she had the charisma and the mythos to back it up.

She was a lot like Vanadia, except that she was also a local woman, through and through.

Now he turned to her. "Are you sure you don't want to leave? Or take the offer of being tucked away somewhere safe?"

"Safe is an odd concept right now," she said. She was dressed in armor, though it was a chain tunic in place of any heavy plate. The sword she carried at her hip was a short blade, nothing like the zweihander she had told him she was more used to. Modifications to fit her current state - and though they looked more truly her than a coarse-spun shirt and loose pants, even he could tell they weren't quite right.

"I suppose it is," he said, looking away once more to the field. He could have sworn that the thudding was growing louder, though only minutes had passed at most. Nothing was visible yet.

Nathaniel nearly jumped when her hand settled on his shoulder. Her voice was pitched low when she leaned in. He looked to her, at the band she wore around her head to keep her short and waving hair back. He had shaped her - brought her to be in this place, in this moment. But she had walked there and lived it. He swallowed.

Her smile was small and sad. "Don't you dare try to protect me," she said.

He let out a huff of unsteady laughter. "I could ask the same of you."

Her hand tightened on his shoulder, and for a moment he imagined her leaning in, perhaps pressing her forehead to his, perhaps kissing him. She did neither. She nodded, gave another squeeze of her hand, and then retreated. "I'd prefer it," she said, "if you didn't die. Even better if neither of us did. But the most important thing-"

"Is this keep," he said, "and the people in it. I know."

Her smile turned grim and she nodded.

"I only wish," he said, "we had some good Amaranthine whiskey up here. We could raise a toast or pour libations."

"What would you toast to?" she asked.

"Redemption."