Part Eleven
The Houses of Aeducan and Harrowmont
Rosalyn chose Bhelen first so they cleaned up and dressed in their best, taking Zevran and Wynne along for show. Alistair trusted Zevran to tell them if it was a trap and be able to explain the role of the Dalish in the conflict. Wynne, as a senior member of the Circle of Magi, would be able to vouch for the Circle's role. Alistair thought that both sets of allies would strengthen their claim. They couldn't afford to appear weak.
Bhelen sent an escort to bring them to the Assembly Hall where they were introduced to Vartag Gavorn, his right hand man. He was a dark haired man with a hard look and smelled of ale. "Welcome Wardens. It is always a blessing for Orzammar to host your order. I am Vartag Gavorn, top advisor to our good Prince Bhelen. What news do you bring?"
"I am Alistair…" he cleared his throat, "uhhhh…Prince of Ferelden and Grey Warden. This is my advisor and companion, Warden Rosalyn; Senior Mage Wynne from the Circle of Magi and Zevran, a representative of the sovereign Dalish Elves. We are here to ask for aid against the Blight."
Zevran leaned in to Rosalyn and whispered, "But I'm not a representative of the Dalish."
"He knows that. The only truth in that statement was our names and the fact that we're Wardens and Wynne is a mage. Play along," she whispered back. Zevran shrugged and nodded.
Vartag bowed his head to them in greeting, "Yes, I have seen the treaty in the Shaperate. Of course you realize that that treaty only compels our king and we currently do not have one."
"Ser, battling the Blight is more important than politics!" pleaded Rosalyn, losing her temper with his pompous attitude.
The dwarf looked up at her and shook his head. "No one wishes this fight over more than Bhelen. But while it continues Orzammar can spare no one to combat a Blight, real or imagined."
"I swear to you, ser, there is a Blight happening," Alistair said solemnly.
"I believe you, your highness. But what are we to do? If my prince followed his heart and sent troops, Harrowmont would steal the throne and we would return to our home to find it devastated by an incompetent tyrant."
Rosalyn stepped forward and looked down on Vartag, "And if you don't fight, your homeland gets destroyed anyway." Alistair put his hand on her arm and she nodded, stepping back.
Vartag turned and paced back and forth for a few moments then looked back up at them. "If you could perhaps…prove your loyalty and show you owe Harrowmont no fealty, Bhelen might be able to help you. Harrowmont has engaged in a campaign of bribery and coercion to ensure that every house serves him. But if you as a neutral party were to approach certain key members with evidence of double dealing…"
"Evidence that I suppose you have?" added a disgusted Wynne.
Vartag continued without missing a beat, "…my lord prince would show his gratitude."
"What kind of evidence?" asked a wary Alistair.
"Harrowmont has promised the same tract of property to two different families in return for favor. Here are copies of the promissory notes. If the deshyrs saw these, they would reconsider their stand."
Alistair thought deeply for a moment before replying, "We will have to think on this."
"I understand, but don't think too long. The offer is limited." Vartag bowed and excused himself, leaving them standing.
"Well, that was….slimy to say the least. Do you believe any of it?" Wynne asked them.
Alistair shook his head, "I don't know. He seems a little off. I don't like it. He isn't being honest. What do you think, Lyn?"
"He's no more trustworthy than any smuggler I've ever met, including me. I must admit that while I don't approve of all the intrigue, I do think him strong enough to give us what we need," she answered.
"And the fact that he's lying means nothing."
"He isn't the first to pretend to be something he isn't, Alistair." She reached down and pulled up his right hand, showing him his ring. "Nor will he be the last. I am merely saying that he seems able to give us what we need."
"I still don't like it." He started for the door, "And I am a prince, I just don't want to be."
Rosalyn smiled as she followed him, "Of course you don't, love."
By the time that Rosalyn had caught up with Alistair he was outside in the street, talking to a man wearing a badge that marked him as a member of Lord Harrowmont's staff. Alistair nodded to the man and turned to the others, "Ready for the next round?"
"Lead on my prince," she said.
"Stop that."
"You love it."
He sighed and nodded, making her laugh. She took his hand and they followed their escort down the street to a modest but large house and were led into a courtyard next to the house. In the courtyard, there stood a middle-aged man with a kind but severe look. "I had heard there were Grey Wardens here. I am Dulin Forender, second to Lord Harrowmont, King Endrin's own choice as successor. Word is spreading that the Blight is upon us. It is shameful that we are not in a better position to help."
"Greetings ser. I am Alistair, Prince of Ferelden. This is my companion, Warden Rosalyn; Wynne from the Circle of Magi, and Zevran, a representative of the Dalish Elves. I have a treaty obliging Orzammar to aid against the Blight."
Dulin shook his head sadly, "That is a terrible risk for the surface. But even if the world will end tomorrow, Lord Harrowmont cannot ignore Bhelen today. He cannot trust anyone of 'unproven' loyalties."
"So you want us to denounce Bhelen publically?" asked Rosalyn.
"If you wish to show you have no loyalty to Bhelen, you must work against him in Harrowmont's name. Bhelen is hosting a Proving match in his father's memory. The deshyrs take it very seriously. Unfortunately, Bhelen has found a way to blackmail or intimidate House Harrowmont's best fighters into withdrawing."
Alistair looked down and Rosalyn who shrugged, "Do you want us to find out why your fighters dropped out?"
Dulin nodded his agreement, "That would be…enlightening, though I hope you won't pry too deeply into things they don't wish revealed. Enter the Proving as Lord Harrowmont's champion; your order's reputation will insure the ancestors will favor you. Bhelen would never work with anyone who humiliated him in that way and my lord will not fear to meet with you then."
"May we have some time to think on this?"
"Yes, but not long as the Proving will begin tomorrow morning. I will wait for you at Tapster's Tavern in the Commons. Meet me there after the tournament. Good day, your highness." Dulin bowed and returned to the house by a side door. The escort led them out of the courtyard and into the street where they took their leave.
Rosalyn looked at Alistair, "So what about that?"
"I don't know. He seems a straight-forward man. He's telling the truth. We fight for him and he trusts us. You don't think so?" he asked.
"He seems a little backward to me; stuck in the past. From what I've seen and what Bodahn's told me, Orzammar is hopelessly mired in the past and needs desperately to change. They are stagnating."
"There's nothing wrong with sticking to what works, Lyn. It's served us well enough."
"And look where Ferelden is now? A kingdom without a king, engaged in civil war and a blight threatening; sounds like something isn't working."
Alistair looked at Zevran and Wynne who were following. "Do you mind excusing us? We'll be along shortly."
"Of course, Alistair. I'll tell the servant to prepare some dinner for you both," replied Wynne. "Zevran?"
"I am your loyal servant, my darling Wynne," he bowed and offered his arm. Wynne narrowed her eyes at him but took his arm as he led her down the street.
They waited until their companions were out of earshot to continue. "This isn't about Ferelden."
"No it's about the world, Alistair! A world the dwarves belong to but won't accept. They live in the past down here and it must change! I think Bhelen is the one to do it."
"I agree that things need to change, but is making such a drastic change at this point necessary?"
Rosalyn walked to the railing at the edge of the street and looked down on the city below. "Yes, it is. Moving backward will only cause more problems in the long run. This is a chance to help these people. You've seen the casteless here. You would deny them a chance to have a say?"
"This isn't about the Alienage either, love. We can't afford to take a chance on an unproven leader who is at the very least untrustworthy. You know that!"
"You asked for my opinion and I gave it. I choose Bhelen."
"And I choose Harrowmont."
Rosalyn turned back and looked down at what she knew was Dust Town, the dwarves version of an alienage. "I said my piece," she said quietly. When she turned back, he was gone.
When Rosalyn reached the house where they were staying, she found that Alistair had come back, changed his clothes quickly and left with Leliana and Soris. "He said they would be returning late, my dear. I am sorry," Wynne told her. "Come and eat, the meal is excellent."
"I'm not really hungry, Wynne. Thank you." She headed for the room she shared with Alistair and opened the door. His pack was where he had left it and his armor was strung about on the floor where he had dropped it in a hurry. She took it as a good sign that he hadn't moved out but he was still upset with her. Wandering the room, she picked up his armor and left it at the door for the servant to clean and removed her own and placed it with his. Rosalyn sat down on the bed, her mind reeling. Bhelen may be untrustworthy but he was interested in making things better not keeping them the same. Years of alienage life had taught her that the status quo was wrong. She had to do something.
The stifling atmosphere of the room and the constant humming in the back of her head from the Darkspawn made her restless. She was pacing the floor furiously, trying to find a way out of her predicament when there was a knock at the door. "Come in," she called.
"I thought you might have changed your mind about dinner," Wynne said. She laid a tray on the table and bent down to pick up one of Alistair's shirts from the floor. "This is one of the ones Leliana made him. That man! You think being a Templar would have taught him better habits."
"I think it's his way of rebelling. Soris is like that too." Rosalyn took the shirt and folded it neatly, laying it on the dresser. She turned to Wynne and the light came on. "Wynne? Where would be the best place to get information in this town? The kind you won't hear in the Assembly Hall."
Wynne bent down and picked up a pair of breeches and folded them as she thought. "That's not really my forte but I think I know who would." She placed the breeches on the dresser and walked to the door and opened it. "Zevran? Come here, please."
Zevran entered with more than his usual swagger, delighted at being called. "What is it my lovelies? Lonely, are we?"
"Where's the best place to find information in this town? The kind you won't hear in the open," she asked him.
"Oh, are we interested in doing some spying? Let's see…what do dwarves enjoy most? Ahhh! I have it! Change your clothes, my dears. We are going out. I suggest daggers only, hidden well and sharp. Money is also good. I'll be back to get you." With that he trotted out the door, already unbuckling his breast plate and calling for the servant.
Twenty minutes later he was back, dressed in ordinary street clothes, his daggers on his hips. Rosalyn had donned the brown dress with the gold sash that Alistair had given her, her daggers tucked into the sash and strapped to her thigh. Wynne was behind him in a plain blue dress, a dagger tucked into her belt. Behind her was Sten in plain brown breeches and white shirt, his sword on his back, looking very out of place.
"Sten has decided to accompany us," Wynne announced.
"This place where we are going could be dangerous. I cannot let the saarebas travel there unprotected," he said. Rosalyn smiled at Wynne and laughed as the mage rolled her eyes.
Zevran offered his arm and said, "Shall we go ladies?" Rosalyn took his arm and nodded and he led them out of the house and into the street. They walked through the gate and entered the Commons, passing several shops and stalls before turning onto a side street. Three streets down, they stood in front of a noisy tavern.
"We're going in there?" asked Wynne, surprised. "It's filthy!"
"And just the place you asked for. Come now, the nobles will never tell you what you want to know, but their servants and workers will. They will be here," answered Zevran.
"Let's go," said Rosalyn as she entered the tavern. Inside was a loud, raucous bunch who was delighted to see them. Word of their presence in the city had reached them and they found themselves inundated by several patrons who were all eager to meet them and hear of the outside world. "Spread out and find out everything you can about Harrowmont and Bhelen," Rosalyn ordered. They nodded and split up, Wynne and Sten joined a group of women who were sitting in the corner while Rosalyn and Zevran joined a rowdy group at the bar.
Three hours and several ales later, Rosalyn had what she wanted and bade them all leave. As they walked back to the Diamond Quarter, Wynne asked, "So it was a success? You found out what you wanted to know?"
"And some things I didn't. But at least I know who I'm backing now. How much time do I have?" she asked.
Zevran thought a moment, "Twelve hours. You should get some rest; you will need it, my dear."
"The elf is right, Kadan. You will need to sleep," agreed Sten.
Rosalyn nodded. "I will, but I have something I need to do first." She entered the house and went to her room. Alistair was still not home but their armor was cleaned and polished and sitting on the floor where she had left it. Stripping out of her dress, she donned her breeches and shirt and armor. Grabbing her daggers and sword, she left the room; she had a lot to do before morning.
Alistair returned home two hours later, cranky, tired and a little tipsy. He, Leliana, and Soris had spent the evening at Tapster's Tavern in the Commons, talking to the nobility and their seconds and finding out nothing. It had been a wasted trip and he was going to have a hangover in the morning. On top of all that, he still hadn't made peace with Rosalyn so he wasn't sure he even had a place to sleep. It was going to be a miserable night, he knew.
He staggered up the steps of the house behind Soris and Leliana when he heard some strange sounds coming from the courtyard at the back of the house. Alistair came down the stairs and drew his dagger from his boot, keeping to the shadows as Rosalyn had taught him. He reached the corner of the house and found what was causing the noise.
Rosalyn was working on her fighting footwork, sword and dagger drawn, making her way back and forth across the courtyard. She would get to one side and stop, take a deep breath and begin again, starting slowly and building speed as she went. By the time she reached the other side, Alistair could hardly keep up with her, she was moving so quickly. He reached out with his senses and felt frustration and disappointment but also determination. As she reached the end of her dance, she stopped and sheathed her weapons as he stepped out of the shadows.
"You are missing that sixth step; it's what's throwing you off," he said as he approached her. He was dressed in the brown breeches and blue coat he'd worn on their picnic at Redcliffe a lifetime before. Rosalyn thought him the handsomest man she had ever seen then and he was no less now. "It's late."
"I needed to practice if I'm going to fight in the Proving tomorrow," she told him.
Alistair blinked twice, not sure he'd heard correctly. "You're going to…what?"
Rosalyn took off her gloves and stuffed them into her belt. Reaching into the pouch on her belt, she pulled out the documents given to her by Vartag. "They're forged. Harrowmont promised property to Lord Dace and Lady Helmi but it was different property. These show it's the same. He's lying to us, Alistair."
"How did you know?"
"Zevran took Wynne, Sten and I to a tavern in the Commons where many of the nobility's servants go to drink. I met the forger; a very obliging man. He also told me several other things too. Bhelen is responsible for the death of his older brother Trian, Endrin's heir. He set up his younger sister, making it look like she killed Trian. Endrin had to banish his own daughter to the Deep Roads to die as punishment. It killed him in the end when he found out about Bhelen's involvement. That's when he told Harrowmont that he wanted him to be his successor not Bhelen. You were right."
Alistair looked down at the documents then back at her, "So what now?"
"Dulin says I need a second. Are you up for a fight in the morning? We get to bust some dwarven heads."
"And here you thought you never knew what to think about me; seems I can say the same about you."
Rosalyn smiled, "So don't think. Will you fight with me?"
He took the documents and tore them in half. "Let's kick some dwarven ass!"
"You always know what to say to a girl." He laughed as his hand came up to brush the hair away from her face. "Take me to bed," she said.
"Yes ma'am," he replied, swooping her up in his arms and heading for the door to the house.
"Alistair?"
"Hmmm?"
"I love you."
The Proving
The servant woke them early as they needed time to scout the competition and find out why Harrowmont's men were withdrawing. Alistair rolled over and pulled Rosalyn closer, unwilling to lose even a second of time with her. He kissed her ear, running his tongue along the edge until she shivered in his arms. "You know that makes me crazy when you do that," she complained.
"Which is the exact reason why I do it," he replied, proceeding to repeat the offending act.
Rosalyn turned in his arms and took his mouth in hers, kissing him fully and soundly before withdrawing. "We need to get up you know. There are battles to fight and the Blight to stop."
"There will always be battles, love. There won't always be time for this…" He pulled her on top of him so she straddled his hips. She rubbed against him, feeling him harden under her and gasping with want. She guided him into her and rode him, rocking back and forth until they peaked, crying out their pleasure. A second knock brought them back to reality.
"Alistair? Rosalyn? It nearly time to go. Get moving you two!" Leliana's voice held a touch of humor as she called to them through the door. "Sten will have all the breakfast eaten if you don't get out here soon."
"Damn! I'm hungry now. Time to go, love." He pulled her down for another kiss, "Win today and you shall reap the rewards."
"What rewards? All I get if I win is the title Champion and an audience with Harrowmont. What else is there?" she asked as she climbed out of bed.
Alistair laughed, "You'll see."
"Now you sound like Duncan."
He cocked his head at her, "Really?"
"Yes. He said that to me when I would ask questions about the Wardens and what I would be doing once I joined."
"Funny. He said that to me a lot too. I think it was his favorite expression." He reached for his breeches and smallclothes. "I haven't thought of him for a while; seems like I should."
Rosalyn stood up and faced him, standing between his legs as she looked down on him. "I haven't thought of him much either. Not since we found the Dalish."
"It seems almost wrong sometimes; like I took something of his that I won't give back."
"Do you mean me?"
"Yes. I know it's not wrong though. You said yourself that you knew it would end between you. How did you know that?"
She bent to pick up her shirt from the floor and slipped it over her head. "It was his nightmares. He would wake up in the middle of the night calling out to the Maker to take him. At first I thought it was just the dreams but I heard him say it when he was awake too. He was praying for death to come quickly. That's when I knew. Later, he told me that I was chosen because I was destined for greatness. He said I 'would meet the one who would lead me to the end.' I didn't understand then but I think he was talking about you."
"Me?"
"He knew we would be together. At least I think he did. It wasn't until we were at Warden's Peak that I realized that's what he meant. Avernus asked me if I was prepared for what would come. I said I didn't know what would come so I didn't know how to prepare for it. He laughed and said. 'Then you are prepared. He is a good man.' It was then that I knew he meant you, so here I am."
"No regrets then?"
"Never with you," she replied.
"Nor do I. I love you, Lyn; it seems I don't tell you enough."
Rosalyn bent down to kiss him, "Yes, you do. I always know."
They dressed quickly and gathered their weapons. Alistair decided to fight with his father's sword as he thought the dragonbone would be recognized and add some credibility to their cause. "They know a good piece of metal when they see it."
For Rosalyn he suggested fighting with swords as the bouts would be hand to hand. She took Duncan's sword, kissing the blade before she sheathed it, making Alistair smile. She selected her Grey Warden issue dagger that she had chosen that day at the Warden compound so long ago as her off-hand weapon and sheathed it. Alistair checked her armor and adjusted what was loose and she returned the favor.
"Ready?" he asked.
"I guess so," was her answer.
"For Duncan," he said as he placed his fist on his heart in salute.
Rosalyn placed her fist on her heart and looked up at him, "For you."
The Proving was held in a huge arena that was located in the Commons. Alistair brought Zevran and Sten with them as they were allowed to bring up to two seconds. As Harrowmont's champion, they would receive many challenges, some from teams, so extra fighters were needed. "Sten is powerful in any battle and since Zevran is a rogue, he can work the outside. As Wardens, you and I will be the main targets. Wynne will stand by for healing if we need it."
"Sounds like you know too much about this," Rosalyn said as they crossed the causeway bridge to the arena.
"I didn't find out much about Bhelen or Harrowmont, but the Provings they are always willing to talk about. It's a point of honor." He stopped her with his hand. "You realize that what we're doing is absolutely crazy."
"Sounds like what we do best, don't you think?"
He smiled, "perhaps, but I would rather keep you in one piece, not several. They aren't supposed to kill us, but that doesn't mean they won't try, love."
"And this differs from our everyday routine how?"
"It doesn't. It's just that we have a choice this time. Are you sure? I can do this for you."
Rosalyn put her hand on his as it rested on her arm. "I think this time it has to be me. I can't explain it. I'll be careful. Morrigan and Wynne will enchant my weapons to give me extra strength and you will be there too. This will work."
"Then let's get this over with so I can go back to our room and have a nervous breakdown," he said sarcastically. They walked through the huge doors and entered the arena hall, finding all eyes upon them as they searched the crowd. "Let's find Harrowmont's fighters first. Dulin said their names were Baizyl and Gwiddon. They should be found in the preparation area." Alistair stopped a servant and asked where they would be found as well as where they needed to go to sign up.
Baizyl was standing in the entry hall talking to some other warriors when they approached. He was young, with dark hair and a worried look. "You are Baizyl? I was sent to speak with you," announced Rosalyn.
"I told them I wasn't going to fight and I'm telling you the same thing," he told them. "Now go away and leave me alone."
Rosalyn sensed that there was something else wrong. She looked at Alistair and he nodded his agreement. "What is the trouble? Perhaps I can help."
Baizyl's eyes grew wide as he considered her question. "It's nothing…a personal matter. There is nothing you can do."
"I don't know about that. Tell me and I'll let you know."
"There's this girl. We've been seeing each other for quite a while. Her parents refused to let us marry and gave her to another. Now Bhelen's men have some letters I wrote to her and are threatening to use them against us if I don't withdraw. If this gets out, she'll be disowned by her family and her husband's and cast out. I couldn't live with that, so I withdrew."
"Who has the letters?"
"Myaja, one of Bhelen's best fighters. They are probably locked in her private room in the preparation area. Can you really help?"
Rosalyn looked at Alistair who nodded and motioned Leliana over. He whispered in her ear and she replied, "I can do that. Give me a few minutes. Zevran?" She took off quickly, Zevran in tow.
"She'll see that the letters are returned to you. Where can we find Gwiddon?" asked Alistair.
"Through that door, ser. He should be over on the right side, that's where he usually stands. Ancestors favor you if you can help," exclaimed Baizyl.
"You just get ready to fight. I might need your help." said Rosalyn. They took their leave and entered the preparation area, finding Gwiddon exactly where Baizyl said he would be. "You are Gwiddon?"
"I am and who's asking?" he answered angrily.
"I'm here to ask you why you pulled out of the matches today."
"I'm not about to risk my neck on a hopeless cause. I'm not stupid."
Rosalyn took a step forward, "Are you sure? Harrowmont isn't conceding. You're information is wrong. He's not backing down."
Gwiddon looked skeptical, "Just where did you find this out?"
"Harrowmont told us himself," Alistair lied, causing Rosalyn to look up at him in surprise. "He sent us to tell you to get back in there and kick some butt."
The dwarf's eyes narrowed, "Then that's what I will do, friend. Thanks for clearing this up." He walked over to a table and began strapping on his armor.
Rosalyn looked up at Alistair, "You're such a liar! You know what it does to me when you do things like that, don't you?"
"That's why I do it, love. Save it up for later, you are going to need it," he said, his voice turning husky. "Shall we go sign up?" He led the way out of the prep area and back to the entry hall.
They found the Proving master standing at the back of the room. "The matches will begin shortly, there are plenty of seats left in the stands," he announced. "Or are you here to take part in the matches?" he asked them.
Rosalyn stepped forward, "I'd like to fight as Lord Harrowmont's champion."
The master's eyes grew wide as his mouth fell open, "Well…that is a surprise indeed; Grey Wardens taking an interest in our king." He checked his sheet, "What name should I put down?"
"I am Rosalyn of the Grey Wardens."
His eyes narrowed as he wrapped his head around it all, "Those surface names are so difficult to pronounce. I'll put you down as 'Grey Warden.' There is an opening in the first round. Who will be your second?"
"Tell them Alistair, Prince of Ferelden, will second her," Alistair declared.
"The Prince of….yes your highness!" He inclined his head in respect. "Are you ready to start?"
Rosalyn looked up to see Leliana and Zevran approaching. "Give us a minute if you would."
The master nodded, "Don't take too long, the matches start soon." He turned to the next person in line and left them.
She looked up at Alistair, "Prince of Ferelden?"
"I thought we'd better get as much mileage as we can out of the name. I probably won't get to keep it for much longer," he explained.
She leaned in, "It's still exciting, you know."
"Hmmm. Have to remember that later." He looked over at Leliana, "Got them?"
"Not a problem. They were just where we thought they'd be," she said, handing him a pouch. "Although Zevran was no help at all."
Zevran looked abashed at her comment, "I was merely talking to the lady. She was interested in getting to know more about elven culture. You would deny her a chance to learn?" Leliana rolled her eyes as she contemplated what that learning experience would entail.
"Zevran, Wynne and Sten, you are with us, the rest of you find seats. Be careful though. We aren't going to be as popular as soon as it's known who we're working for." Alistair walked over to Baizyl, who was still standing by the doors of the prep area, looking lost and forlorn. "I believe these belong to you." He handed him the pouch.
"Ancestors! These are my letters! How did you…? Never mind, friend. It's enough to know my love is safe. I owe you a debt I cannot repay," said Baizyl.
Rosalyn smiled down at him, "Fight in the matches today and we'll call it even. Deal?"
"Deal, my friends. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some heads to bash." He bowed and left them alone.
Alistair looked down at Rosalyn, a worried look on his face. "Lyn? Are really you sure about this? I'm more than willing to go in for you as are the others."
"I can't explain it Alistair, but it's my fight. I'll be fine; and if I'm not, I trust you'll take care of anyone who gets too close."
He squared his shoulders, resigned to the fact he wasn't winning this argument, "Count on it, love."
"And I expect that reward I was promised when I'm finished."
He laughed, "You'll get it, with change."
"Then let's get this over with." She went to the Proving master to report, "I'm ready," she told him.
"Great! Your first opponent will be the warrior Seweryn. If you and your seconds will meet the floor steward, he will see to your readiness. Good luck!" said the master. The huge double doors behind him opened and the trial had begun.
The floor steward led them to a holding room on the arena floor where they took their seats and waited for their turn. Alistair and Zevran checked Rosalyn's weapons and armor one last time, making sure she was ready and comfortable. Zevran sparred with her a few minutes to allow her to warm up her muscles and gave her some last minute pointers. "Remember our fights with the ruffians in Denerim? These will be on that level and above. Use every trick you have against them but always save the best for last. Ready?"
"I think so. Thank you, Zevran," she told him. "Wish me luck?"
"Buena suerte, my dear," Zevran said, placing his hands on her cheeks and kissing her passionately.
Alistair cleared his throat and stood up, "I said a peck on the cheek!"
"I was caught up in the moment."
"Yeah, right," replied Alistair as Rosalyn giggled.
"Warden! It's time!" yelled the steward.
Alistair bent his head to Rosalyn's, "I love you. Win for me." He kissed her hard and held her close.
She reached into her shirt and pulled out the rose shaped amulet he had given her in Denerim. "Take care of this for me?" He nodded and took the amulet, kissing it before he tucked it in his pocket.
Grabbing her shoulders, he turned her to face the door as it opened, whispering, "Please come back to me!" With that he pushed her towards the door.
Rosalyn walked out to meet Seweryn in the center of the arena. He was a warrior, powerful but slow. She danced around him using the basic footwork her mother had taught her years ago and managed to always stay just a step ahead of him. After several strikes with her sword and dagger, he was down, no match for her speed and quickness.
The steward proclaimed her the winner and she returned to the holding room. Alistair sat her down as Wynne checked her for injuries. "Not a scratch! Did you even go near him?" she asked, casting a healing spell for good measure.
"Alistair is harder to beat than he was," she laughed. "It was fun."
"Fun, she says. I'll remember that next time we spar," Alistair said. He looked up at the others and nodded. They withdrew, leaving him alone with Rosalyn. "I'm proud of you. Are you sure you're all right?"
She laid her head on his shoulder, "I'm fine; ready for another round. Who is next?"
"Baizyl's friend Myaja and her second and you have to go against them alone. You can still back out."
"That's why I brought these." He looked down at her belt and saw a half dozen of her homemade acid and fire bombs; a definite edge for her.
"You are so sexy when you cheat."
Rosalyn laughed. "Let's hope my opponents don't think so." The steward called her back for the next round. "Kiss me and tell me I'm not crazy."
"You're not crazy but I am for letting you do this," he said. He kissed her and watched her go back out to meet her next foe.
Myaja and her second Lucjan, attacked her from both sides in the hopes that she wouldn't be able to avoid both of them. Rosalyn pulled an acid bomb from her belt and tossed it at Lucjan, then concentrated her strikes on Myaja until she was no longer able to strike back and fell to the floor. Lucjan recovered and struck at her with his sword, cutting her right arm, causing her to drop her sword. As he raised his weapon to strike a second time, she spun to the right and stabbed him with her dagger. The blow was a surprise and he dropped his sword arm, allowing her to make a second strike and finish him.
Rosalyn staggered to the circle in the middle of the arena and took her bows as the master announced her victory. She saw the door to the holding room open and Alistair ran out to her, lifting her in his arms and carrying her to the door. He carried her to the bench and stripped her breast plate and arm guards from her. "Don't do that! I have to go out again!" she cried, pushing his hands away.
"Not until I stop this wound, young lady," Wynne scolded. "Hold her for me Alistair. Keep her still." Alistair sat down and pulled her back against him, holding her steady as Wynne cast a healing spell and applied salve to the wound and bound it.
Rosalyn leaned her head back on Alistair's shoulder and he kissed her cheek. "Stay still, love. It will be fine."
When Wynne had finished, she helped Alistair strap on her arm guards and breastplate and had her drink a healing potion. Satisfied she was all right, Wynne joined Sten and Zevran on the other side of the room. "I told them you needed a break after that. You have an hour. Close your eyes and rest, love."
She nodded and did as she was told, closing her eyes and laying her head back. Alistair stroked her hair as she relaxed and she knew he was more than worried.
Alistair woke her after an hour and massaged her shoulders and arms to warm her muscles, being careful not to touch her wound. Sten sparred a bit with her, giving her pointers on how to fight her next opponent, a specialist at the two handed sword. She listened to all he said and nodded. Sten leaned down and whispered, "The bombs will work too, Kadan." She smiled as she noticed the corners of his mouth rise in a slight smile and nodded.
"I'm ready," she said. Alistair bent down to kiss her and she was out the door.
Lady Hanashan was a respected member of the Silent Sisters order of warriors, whose members cut their tongues out in honor the Paragon Astyth the Grey. Rosalyn lowered her head in respect, acknowledging her sacrifice. Lady Hanashan nodded and smiled in answer.
The master started the battle and the combatants began, Lady Hanashan's sword swinging in a large arch around her, preventing Rosalyn from getting close. Rosalyn distracted the warrior with one hand, striking out with her dagger as Lady Hanashan lost her balance. By the time she had regained her composure, Rosalyn had struck out another time, nearly disarming the warrior. Lady Hanashan took a step back and dropped her sword, acknowledging Rosalyn's superior strength. Rosalyn sheathed her weapons and offered her hand to the Silent Sister, thanking her for the match. Lady Hanashan nodded and in the back of her mind, Rosalyn thought she heard her say, "Thank you. Ancestors keep you, Grey Warden." Rosalyn smiled and said, "You are welcome, friend." She took her bows, insisting Lady Hanashan take them with her as a sign of respect then retired to the holding room.
Alistair hugged her when Wynne had finished checking her wound, "That was unbelievable!" he exclaimed, "How did you do that so fast?"
"She has heard of your order and did not wish to fight us. That is why she stopped. She was acknowledging the superiority of the Grey Wardens. It is a great honor for you, Kadan," said Sten.
"By throwing one blow, she keeps her honor then," replied Alistair. "Let's hope the next one is as easy. You will need a second, by the way."
"Want to bust some heads?" she asked, smiling.
Alistair laughed, "Of course. We will be evenly matched, a warrior and a rogue against the same. I like the odds; I put two sovereigns on you, you know."
"Only two?"
He leaned in, "It's Zevran's money. I took it when we last played cards. He never missed it."
"I have totally corrupted you, Chantry boy."
He leaned in farther and whispered, "In more ways than one, love."
The steward announced they were ready and Rosalyn checked her weapons as Alistair donned his helmet and drew his sword. The Proving master announced their names, putting emphasis on the fact that she was seconded by the Prince of Ferelden. "When this is over, I need to talk to you about that," she said. He nodded and they walked out into the arena.
Their opponents were the warrior Wojech and his partner, Velanz, a rogue assassin. The master signaled the start and they were off. Rosalyn took Velanz and Alistair fought Wojech, making the bout evenly matched. As they continued to fight, Rosalyn noticed that Wojech was working on Alistair's sword arm, causing him to spend more time blocking than thrusting his weapon. She tossed an acid bomb at Velanz and pulled a throwing knife from her boot and threw it at Wojech's sword arm, burying it in his shoulder. "Thanks, love," said Alistair as she turned to Velanz, finishing him off with a roundhouse thrust. Alistair used his shield to knock Wojech back and lunged forward with his sword, finishing him off. The Proving crowd went wild as they saw one of their favorites go down. Rosalyn and Alistair took their bows and left the floor.
Wynne met them at the door and checked them for wounds, casting a healing spell on Rosalyn's arm to make sure it hadn't broken open again. Sten helped Alistair with his armor, loosening the breastplate to allow him to staunch a small cut. "You both did well. Your next opponents will be a team of four. May I suggest you allow the two dwarves to fight with you?" said Sten, motioning to Gwiddon and Baizyl, who had joined them in the holding room.
"We wanted to thank you for your help today, Warden," said Gwiddon.
"I owe you a huge debt," said Baizyl.
Rosalyn looked at Alistair who shrugged and nodded. "Would you fight this last one with me? It will be three against four, but I welcome your help."
"You honor me, Warden," Baizyl replied, bowing his head. Gwiddon nodded and smiled.
The steward announced them and they entered the arena. The crowd went wild when they saw Baizyl and Gwiddon with her. Their opponents were also well received; Piotin Aeducan was the cousin of Prince Bhelen and champion of the Provings. His three henchmen were just as skilled as he was and proved difficult to beat. Rosalyn used a fire bomb and knocked one of the henchmen out, disabling another as she began to pound on Piotin with Gwiddon. Baizyl ran to take out a bowman that had taken a place near the outside arena wall. As Piotin began to weaken, she tossed another acid bomb to blind him and Gwiddon finished him off. Baizyl took out the bowman easily and the three of them took their bows. Rosalyn was named champion as the crowd roared, screaming louder when she raised Gwiddon and Baizyl's hands up with her own.
Alistair took her in his arms when she entered the holding room, not wanting to let her go long enough for Wynne to check her. Zevran pulled him away and gave her a quick hug and Sten patted her shoulder and smiled. She looked at them all and said, "Never let me do any dueling again!" It was a promise they wouldn't be able to keep.
The House of Harrowmont
Rosalyn met the companions in the entry hall and there were hugs and congratulations from them all. Even Morrigan had a smile for her, complimenting her use of the bombs. Rosalyn smiled and thanked them all. A messenger was waiting for them as they left the arena, bidding them to follow him to Tapsters Tavern to meet with Dulin Forender. Alistair and Rosalyn followed the man.
Dulin was in the back of the bar, chatting with some minor lords about the election when they found him. "Congratulations, Champion and many thanks. Lord Harrowmont is ready to meet you at your convenience. If you will follow me, I will introduce you."
"I would like a few minutes to clean up if I might. Can we detour to our house?" Rosalyn asked.
"Of course. I will escort you there myself. Shall we go?"
Dulin led the way through the Commons and into the Diamond Quarter. He was careful not to speak to anyone and Soris pointed out that he could tell they were being followed as they walked. "My hidden escort," Dulin said, "I cannot go anywhere without them now."
They stopped at the house and went to their rooms to change and clean. Alistair asked Soris and Leliana to dress and accompany them. In their room, Alistair took Rosalyn in his arms as soon as the door was shut; kissing her to reassure himself she was all right. Rosalyn gasped as his hands ran over her. "I can't believe that is over. I don't ever want to do that again."
"You won't if I have anything to say about it." Alistair began unbuckling her chest piece and pulling it off. "I want you so badly it hurts, love."
"And we don't have time," she complained as she undid the buckles of his breastplate. "Unless it's really quick?"
Alistair pulled off his breastplate and threw it down on the floor, loosening the laces of his breeches. "Oh it will be quick, that's for sure." He pulled the laces of Rosalyn's breeches and pulled her shirt over her head, his hands yanking off her breastbands and finding her breasts. He squeezed and pinched the nipples until she moaned and fell back on the bed, quickly pulling off her boots. Once off, she stood up and pulled off her breeches and smallclothes. Alistair pulled down his own breeches and pulled her close, wrapping her legs around him. He thrust against her, entering her quickly, both of them moaning with need. He pumped on her as she pushed against him, building the passion they felt to a peak until they broke against each other, shaking from their climax and collapsing to the bed.
They held each other as they returned; kissing and touching everywhere they could reach. "Maker! That was fast!" she exclaimed laughing. "But so worth it."
"I hope so. I've wanted to do that since you finished the last bout. I was so worried about you but you did marvelously! I am the luckiest man today!" he replied, pulling her closer and kissing her. He reached down and pulled up his breeches, then reached into the pocket and pulled out her amulet. "You might want this back, I hope." He placed it around her neck, kissing her gently when he was through.
"We need to get out there, though. Dulin is waiting," she said.
Alistair nuzzled her neck, "Let him get his own girl." Rosalyn laughed again and pushed herself off the bed. She searched her pack and found a clean shirt and breeches and put them on, relacing her boots. Alistair changed his shirt and put on his breastplate then helped her with her armor. He kissed her once more, and they went out to join Dulin and meet the elusive Lord Harrowmont.
Dulin led them to the large house where they had met him before, this time leading them in the front door. A servant greeted them and they were ushered into Harrowmont's study where he was waiting for them. He was a kind looking man of late middle age with greying golden hair. "I apologize for putting you through this trial but I hope you can understand my reasons for doing so. I am Lord Pyral Harrowmont and I thank you for helping me preserve King Endrin's throne."
Rosalyn bowed her head, "It was necessary, my lord and we do understand. May I present Alistair, Prince of Ferelden and Grey Warden, Sister Leliana, late of the Lothering Chantry and my cousin Soris of the Elven Peoples of Denerim."
"It is my honor. Welcome to Orzammar. Your reputations have preceded you and normally I would be honored to present you treaty to the Assembly to ask for their aid but unless I am king, there is no way I can do so. With that said, I must ask a boon of you."
"What is this boon, my lord?" asked Alistair.
"Have you heard of a woman named Jarvia and the criminal carta she runs?"
Rosalyn and Soris looked at each other, their eyes suddenly wide at the mention of the name. "Go on, my lord, please," she told him.
"The Assembly receives pleas every day from the common folk, begging that something be done about her but no has managed. Her base is in Dust Town, the raw edges of the city where no one lives except hardened criminals and the casteless. If you would help me in this, it would show the Assembly that I and not Bhelen have the ability to rule this city."
Alistair reached out with his senses to gauge Harrowmont's mood and found he was telling the truth. He believed that by ridding the city of Jarvia he would show he had enough power and strength to rule. Yet when he spread out those senses to Rosalyn, the emotions he sensed were nothing like what he would have expected. He sensed determination, recognition and anger bordering on rage within her. Soris' feelings were obviously nearly as strong. He glanced at Leliana but felt nothing from her but a determination to get the job done.
Rosalyn looked at Soris, who nodded slightly, purpose showing on both their faces, "We'll deal with Jarvia. Be ready to help against the Blight."
Harrowmont nodded his agreement, "Do this and I promise that if I take the throne, I will not stop until the Assembly sends you your troops." With that he bade them good evening and the servant escorted them to the door.
In the street, Rosalyn's demeanor changed. She walked quickly back to the house, her mind racing. Soris was the only one who kept up with her, the same determined look on his face. They entered the house and went straight to Alistair and Rosalyn's room, shutting the door behind them. Alistair opened the door to find them deep in conversation.
"We can't be sure if she is the same one, Roz," said Soris.
"Then we will have to find out, won't we," Rosalyn replied impatiently.
Alistair shut the door behind him, "Find out about whom?"
Rosalyn sighed and sat down on the bed, her head in her hands. "We have to tell him Roz. He has a right to know since he will be helping us," said Soris. When she didn't reply he started for her, "We know who Jarvia is, Alistair. We've…heard of her."
"Heard of her? How? What does a dwarven smuggler from Orzammar have to do with two elves from the Denerim Alienage?"
Rosalyn stood up and faced him, the anger blazing from her golden eyes, "She killed my mother."
"How can you be so sure it's her?" Alistair asked.
"After she died, several friends of my father made inquiries as to who might have arranged the ambush that killed my mother, Soris' father and Shianni's mother that night. The smugglers they were working with thought they were guarding a shipment of rare wines and other luxury goods but the shipment was really lyrium, originally stolen from the carta and scheduled to be sold to the Circle for their use," Rosalyn told him.
Soris continued, "When the carta found out that the shipment contained their stolen lyrium, they mounted a rescue effort and attacked the shipment, killing everyone who was accompanying it."
"So where does this Jarvia fit into all this?" asked Alistair.
"Jarvia also worked for the smuggling ring along with my mother. Unbeknownst to them; she was also working for the carta, giving them information about shipments of expensive goods, where they were headed and when. She told the carta about that shipment that night."
Alistair shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair, "So Jarvia is responsible for your parents' deaths?"
"Yes," replied Rosalyn. "And she will pay."
Alistair began to pace the floor of the bedroom, his mind working fast. Finally he stopped and turned to Soris. "Soris, will you excuse us please?"
He looked over at Rosalyn who nodded. "I'll get something to eat. Call me if you need me." He opened the door and left, shutting it behind him. Alistair paced once or twice more then turned to Rosalyn.
"You want to go after her then?"
"Yes. Soris does too. We have a score to settle, Alistair," she said.
"And it means nothing that we have a civil war to stop and a blight to fight. That has to mean something too, Lyn."
"It does! Soris and I have an opportunity to avenge the death of our parents and get us the help we need. I have thought about that!" She turned to the window and looked out at the city below.
"Personal revenge cannot take the place of duty Lyn! You know that! We are already treading a thin line with the Wardens by helping Harrowmont like we are. You want us to be judge, jury and executioners too!"
"This isn't your fight, Alistair. You don't have to go. Soris and I can take one of the others with us instead."
"No! I will not stand back and wait for you to kill yourself, love. I'll go with you and watch in person, if you don't mind. At least then I can try to stop anyone who gets too close."
Rosalyn turned and looked up at him. "You would really do that for us?"
He pulled her into his arms and held her close, "I love you, Lyn and I want you to get the justice you deserve. And Soris is my family now too. So like it or not, I have to help you. We'll take Leliana with us; I need someone who can keep a cool head about all this and see things as I see them. I'll send Zevran and Morrigan out to find out more information about this Jarvia and the carta before we go anywhere near them. In the meantime, you will get some rest and eat." He pulled back and looked down at her, Prince's orders." He smiled at the last.
"You are growing way too fond of that title, you know."
He shrugged, "It does help down here though. That's one thing you can say about the dwarves, they do respect titles, whether real or imagined."
"Yours isn't imagined, Alistair. You are Prince of Ferelden. You just don't officially accept it. What happens if you become king?"
"I get to eat all the cheese and drink all the ale I want and make love to you three times a day. It will be good to be king!" He bent down and kissed her. "Lie down and rest. I'll go get us something to eat and drink and talk to Zevran. Then I'll come back for that reward I promised." With that and a wink, he left the room.
Rosalyn turned back and stared out the window at the city. Even with all the joking, Alistair may not want to be king but he would have to be; she knew. Their time together was short and soon there would be no place for her in his life. Tears welled up in her eyes at the thought; her world had suddenly grown too big to bear.
Zevran and Morrigan returned a few hours later from their scouting trip. Alistair had awaked Rosalyn and they sat on the bed as Zevran and Morrigan told them their findings, "This Jarvia is a wily one. She is holed up in Dust Town. No one was willing to talk to us about her except one woman named Nadezda. She had been injured in the woman's service and then kicked out to the street when she couldn't fight anymore."
Alistair looked at Rosalyn then back at Zevran, "How do we find them?" he asked.
"Jarvia has set up shop in the abandoned mining tunnels under the city. They are a web of passages that snake everywhere and there are hundreds of access ways," Morrigan told them with her usual tone of sarcasm.
"So how do we get in?" asked Soris.
Zevran continued, "They all have a special finger bone token that should get us in. We just need to find one of these tokens or fashion our own."
"Soris, do you think you could help us there?" asked Rosalyn.
"If I had the tools and knew what one looked like, I could possibly fashion something that could work. The point is that I don't know what they look like," he answered.
Alistair looked up at Soris, "How can you do that?"
Rosalyn cleared her throat and Soris nodded, "Soris has…talents too, Alistair. He can fashion keys to most any lock. He's trained as a jewelry smith but his side work is what paid the bills."
"So now my family has not one but two thieves in it?" Alistair commented sarcastically.
Soris smiled at his comment and looked down at Rosalyn, who was blushing. Alistair had never called them his family in public before. She took his hand and squeezed it, kissing his cheek. "It seems it does," she replied softly.
"Huh. Good to know, I guess. What do we do now?"
Zevran poured a glass of wine from the side table, "Nadezda told me where we can find one of the entrances." He looked at Soris, "If I show you the doorway, will that be enough for you to be able to fashion a key?"
Soris began to think, "I'll need some clay, the soft and molding kind, and some material to fashion the key from. I'd have to look at the lock to see how it works before I know what material to use. And I'll need some time to make the mold; about fifteen to twenty minutes should be enough."
Alistair stood up, "Make it happen cousin. The servant here should be able to help you with your needs. He seems to be able to provide whatever else we need."
Soris nodded, winking at Rosalyn as he left with Zevran. Morrigan remained for a moment and then slinked out the door behind them. Rosalyn couldn't help but notice the look she gave Alistair as she left. If she didn't know better, it was a look of longing. "Alistair?" she turned to ask him.
He was deep in thought, standing at the side table, pouring himself a drink. "Hmmm?" he answered absently.
"Have you noticed anything strange about Morrigan?"
He laughed at her question, "What's not strange about Morrigan?"
"It's just she….I don't know. She seems a little different lately. I have to practically force her to give me the time of day. It's like she's…resentful of me."
He pulled her into his arms and looked down at her. "She's as strange and annoying as she ever was, love. What brought all this on?"
Rosalyn put her hands on his chest and played with the griffin embossed on his breastplate. "Well…I can't help but feel she is jealous."
"Jealous? Of you?"
"Of you and me. It's almost like she wants you too. I know it's probably silly given that you can't stand her and she isn't exactly hospitable to you. But that's how it feels. It's silly, I know."
He laughed out loud at the thought. "Morrigan…and me? That's just…UGH! No way!"
"I know but it just feels wrong to me somehow. We never did find out why Flemeth sent her with us. Everything that old witch does has a dark purpose and you don't have to have Warden sense to tell that."
"Look, Lyn, there's never, ever, ever going to be anything between Morrigan and me. I can't stand her and she hates me. I love you and that's never going to change, okay? Put all this away and let's finish our business down here so we can end the Blight and I can take you someplace warm and lose all our clothes."
Rosalyn smiled and pulled his head down for a kiss. Yet, in the back of her mind, the doubts were there and she knew this was another detail that had yet to be dealt with.