Dragon Age- A Thedas Tale

by IAmElvie

This story is being written for fun; my AU. It is not canon. It will span before DAO through all three games and then we will see. If you know me, you'll know I've added my own flare and chars to the story which can change the way NPCs think or feel. Some DA2/DAI players will be met sooner. As always, mature readers only. Story begins in the Western Hills with something unexpected.

11. A Thedas Tale Ch11 - Denerim

Dragon Age

A Thedas Tale

Ch 11 – Denerim

They pushed their horses to get to Redcliffe, knowing they would have a few days to rest them while Eamon's men made ready for the journey to Denerim. Once they reached Redcliffe they would send runners to the elves, mages and dwarves on where to take their armies. As they approached Redcliffe castle, they were stunned to see the vast amounts of tents and people camped outside the castle. They moved through a pathway between the camps that led to the palace gates. They saw chasind, avvar and Haven warriors. She inclined her head to Kolgrim when the man raised his sword in the air to her. Her brow furrowed when she saw soldiers bearing Western Hills colors. That was when she felt the presence of her sisters. She moved Shadow closer to Taibor. "My sisters are here, but I cannot feel the rest of my family. I have not felt their deaths, but I do not know where they are."

"I'm sure they are fine, Lor. Likely, they have gone on to their Denerim estate," he said, trying to reassure her. It did not bode well for the Western Hills Arling if its army was here at Redcliffe. The fact that the chasind and avvar were also here meant that it was likely the rest of the south had fallen under the crush of the Blight. The worried look on his wife's face told him she had much the same concern.

They rode through the gate where soldiers greeted them to take their mounts. Normally, that was not something she would be okay with, but right now there was nothing normal about was happening. They dismounted and hurried through the courtyard, up the steps and into the castle. Attendants showed them into the Greathall and closed the doors behind them. She heard a squeal and in but a blink Laura was in her arms. "I'm so glad you're safe! I felt Wilhelm's…death – I'm so sorry we couldn't come!"

Laura pulled back to look at her sister. "There was nothing you could have done. Even with the chasind and avvar joining with us to fight the horde – it was a losing battle. Their numbers were overwhelming. We had to retreat. Our parents decided to come here and join our armies with Eamon's. Once we learned what you'd been up to, our parents, Kyrian and Star went on to Denerim to prepare for the Landsmeet. No doubt, they are rallying the nobles. Seb and I stayed behind with our men. Izot and Azur are leading the Avvar. Azur's brother fell to the horde, he's now chieftan of the clan." She looked around and frowned. "Berchan…"

Too many people she knew had already been lost. Lorianna feared how much worse it would get before they ended the Blight. She forced a smile, squeezed her sister's hand and reached out for Izot's. "He's fine. Berchan is married to a dalish by the name of Lyrica. They are headed to Denerim with the rest of my League of Paladins."

Izot snorted. "Dad's going to love that!" He had a hard enough time accepting her husband, Azur, and he was human.

She winked at Izot. "I think he will…after he gets over the initial shock. She's not what you'd think a typical dalish would be like. And even if he didn't accept her, I doubt he'd do or say anything that would upset mom too much. He's not a fan of being in the dog house."

"In the dog house?" Teagan inquired as he raised his head from the kiss he'd just bestowed on Angelia.

Laura smiled at Teagan. It was easy to forget that not everyone was familiar with her mom's way of speaking. "It means he'd be in mom's disfavor…a cold shoulder and a colder bed."

"Well then, I can see why he would wish to avoid such." Teagan's gaze settled on Alistair. He glanced at Kael and then back to Alistair. There was no doubt who the dark blonde man was. "Alistair! Last time I saw you – you were covered in mud. But I would recognize you anywhere! You look just like your brothers and your father." He held his hand out to the young man.

Alistair shook the hand, heat crawling into his cheeks. He remembered all too well the fit he'd had before leaving Eamon's. "It is good to see you again, Teagan! I suppose I'll have to get used to everyone knowing I'm a royal bastard. I doubt my brother would let me slide back into obscurity."

"He would not," Kael put forth. "You are my brother and you belong at my side...Prince Alistair," he teased. "Unless any more bastards show up, we are the last of the Theirin bloodline."

Alistair wrinkled his nose and sighed in defeat. "You intend to recognize me as heir." It wasn't a question. But it was, indeed, shocking. It was his intent to marry a mage. Was his brother saying he would tolerate a mage heir? "You realize I intend to search for Ann when all this," he said with a wave of his hand, "is finished?"

That was understood. "A prince needs a princess. Ann is a fine woman."

"You might not wish to spread that around until after you are crowned King. Ferelden will not so easily accept a mage so close to the throne," Alistair warned his brother.

"It will be my job to make sure Ferelden remembers those that aided her in her time of need. Elves, dwarves, mages…qunari…Our differences will mean a lot less to our people by the time the Blight has ended."

Eamon studied Kael. The nobles might not like whatever the young king had in mind, but he was exactly what Ferelden needed. A king that would unite its peoples. "An ambitious undertaking, your Highness – one I did not expect to see in my lifetime."

"Surely he jests, husband," Isolde assured Eamon with a pat on his arm.

"You are not so old as all of that," Lorianna admonished him, before shooting a side-long glance at Isolde. Much would need done for change to take place.

Eamon inclined his head to her. "That is most kind of you to say, your Highness. But there are some days that I feel every one of my well-earned years." He looked over at the sound of boots to see Prince Sebastian and Niloh approaching. His lips twitched in a near grin he when noticed the young prince of Starkhaven had eyes only for his young wife, Laura.

Lorianna slid her gaze from Sebastian to her older sister. "Izot…I – I need to know…Gavorn…is he…" her words trailed off.

"Our auger is fine. I've no doubt that he will hunt you down, in time. He has missed…" her gaze darted to Kael briefly, "your talks a great deal."

Kael grunted. No doubt the shaman missed more than just his wife's conversation. He grunted again when he felt his wife's elbow dug into his ribs.

Eamon cleared his throat. "It is good to have you all here once more. And thanks to the efforts you, your family and your Paladins have put forth, we have a far mightier army than I could have anticipated. That being said, we should head to Denerim with all due haste, your Highnesses. We cannot afford to delay any longer. The Wulffs will post the banns for the Landsmeet as soon as they arrive – they may already have done so."

Kael inclined his head to the older man. "I agree. It is past time to pull Ferelden together and face our real enemy. Those with mounts will ride ahead; the bulk of our armies will follow. That will give us time to scout Denerim before we are seen as a major threat to Loghain's power. I have no wish to incite a civil war, so I will not flaunt our armies. I will use the Landsmeet to regain my father's throne."

"Your throne, your Majesty. You are the King of Ferelden now," Eamon reminded him. "Your plan is sound. They cannot deny you the throne once you present your father's missive. However, to keep unrest at a minimum, I suggest we also find evidence of Loghain's betrayals. Once he is no longer seen as a hero, the people will rally behind you."

"Understood. Then we shall depart after we break our fast," Kael replied. He needed a bath a comfortable night's sleep before embarking on another long journey in the saddle.

Later that evening, after said bath and a nap, long tables filled with food adorned the Great Hall. The army leaders and their lieutenants joined the nobles in a hearty dinner feast. Dogs sat patiently, waiting for treats and bones to be thrown their way. Morsels were aplenty, there was no need for the hounds to fight over them.

Lor was able to talk to Gavorn after dinner. It had been good to see him again. As she feared, her talks with him had changed him. He'd incorporated her teachings in with his own beliefs to create something new. But rather than ostracize him, his clan embraced him. Likely due to how closely they'd fought beside the soldiers and Witches of the Hills. Once their eyes were opened, there was no closing them again – no going back, so the clan had moved forward and adapted to their new reality.

"Will the other clans shun your clan?" she asked quietly.

"Mayhap – at first," Gavorn admitted. "But the whispers of truth will spread quick as any ill-gotten rumor. It may not be believed…but it will be known. After the knowing comes curiosity – then understanding and acceptance. I do not regret your teachings, little one. With knowledge comes wisdom. I do not wish to be unknowing." He caught her watching him intently and tilted his head curiously. "What has your attention, little one?"

She blinked at having been caught staring and laughed softly. He was actually ruggedly handsome with his sandy blonde hair and pale blue eyes, without the war paint covering every inch of him. "You were…not what I expected under all that war paint. I do not think I'd have recognized you without our connection." Once she'd gotten close enough to him, she'd been able to sense him, but since they were not as closely bonded as she was with her family, she couldn't sense him until she'd gotten close to him. "You clean up well, large one," she teased with a grin.

His heart fluttered in his chest to know that she found him attractive. Perhaps he should have shown his true self to her sooner. "Will you allow me to kidnap you?" He knew what the answer would be – still, he had to ask. He wanted no other.

Kael strolled forward. He'd looked for his wife the moment he found out she'd been seen talking to the auger. While he trusted in his wife's love and her ability to defend herself, he had been wanting to meet shaman that loved his wife ever since he'd found out about him. "Not so long as I draw breath," he warned the Avvar as he snaked a possessive arm around his wife's waist.

Gavorn looked down to meet Sky's eyes, but with a shake of her head his lips closed and the question remained unasked. She did not wish him to kill her mate. His gaze lifted a bit to meet her mate's bright blue eyes. "I did not expect her answer to change. But still…the asking needed." He could feel the strength and confidence that surrounded his rival. "Protect her as I would and I will respect your claim. If you are weak…I will kidnap her." He lowered his gaze. Pale blue eyes bore into light blue eyes, uncaring if she could read what he felt for her in his eyes. "I would like to resume our talks…when time allows. There is much I have missed since you departed the Hills. For now, I must attend the needs of my clan." He inclined his head to the man and smiled softly at the Sky Witch, before turning on his heel to leave.

"Will I need to watch my back?" he asked dryly.

"No," she scoffed. "Gavorn would never hurt me in that way. And he knows I'd kill him if he took you from me." She slipped her arms around his neck. "He might think he's in love with me, but I don't think he's truly thought about what that would mean. To be with me, he'd have to leave behind everything he ever cared about…his clan…his profession. No one should have to give up who they are for love. He'll find the right woman someday – and he won't have to give up a thing to have her."

"He knows," he said, forcing the words out through his tight throat. "He wouldn't be the first person to give up everything for love. I would give up the throne, with no regrets – if you asked me to. True love is unselfish, it gives without thought and sees no burden in the giving. It is why Cailan remained true to you. When love is pure, there are no regrets." He lifted his hand to caress her cheek. "No lessor love is acceptable once you have known a love like that."

Her husband's words kept coming to mind throughout the rest of the evening as they visited with friends and family. He was right. She'd give up anything to stay with him, even if it meant not being able to see her family again. Whilst she would miss her family, she would not regret making the choice. She still felt guilty about Gavorn, however. She'd never tried to make him love her. She didn't think she'd ever encouraged him. But she knew well the choice of who you love was not always yours to make. Sometimes the heart made its own choices. She truly hoped Gavorn would connect with someone in the same way she had with Kael. She had to hope he did not truly love her, but was in love with the idea of what she was and the knowledge that came with it.

She blinked when she realized someone had asked her a question and threw herself back into the conversation at hand.

-BREAK ONE-

They were back in the saddle by the time it was light enough to see. At least this time, Laura and Seb were riding out with them. Some of the mounted soldiers stayed back with the main bulk of the army to scout and protect them, the rest rode with them. She, Kael, Laura and Seb took the lead. Kadar, Niloh and Liliana fell in behind them and Eamon, Teagan, Alistair and Angelia took up the rear and led the cavalry.

It was more than obvious that Kadar was pleased to see Niloh again. It had been quite some time since he'd seen anyone from his merry band of mercs. While the men remained watchful and diligent in their roles as bodyguards, they did talk and laugh. Eventually, Liliana joined in once she was comfortable with the newcomer.

They made camp at nightfall. While they were moving swiftly, her Paladins would make Denerim at least a week or so before they did, even having to go slow for dwarves' wagon. Their main camp had been closer to Denerim than Redcliffe. From Redcliffe, they'd be going twice as far to reach the capital. At least her Paladins would have already been working towards gaining local noble support by the time they arrived.

A week and a half into their journey, Kael reined Taibor in and rose in his stirrups to get a better look. A cloud of dust on the road ahead was the result of a great many horses heading towards Denerim. He frowned when they drew close enough that he could see Orlesian helmets atop half of their heads. Why were Orlesian soldiers in Ferelden? Two riders left the column and turned in their direction. He settled back into the saddle and reined Taibor to the left. "Lor and I will ride out to meet them." He shook his head at Kadar. "I need you to stay with the others. They are sending two to parlay, we can do no less." He nodded to his wife and they nudged their mounts in the direction of the two riders.

Kadar grumbled under his breath and moved his mount next to Sebastian's. He could tell Laura and Sebastian didn't like this 'plan' any better than he did. "Legion, Taltos – go!" He waved the hounds in the direction of king and queen. He knew the hounds weren't so much as obeying him as they were going because they wanted to, but he at least felt better knowing they would be nearby.

Kael slowed Taibor as they approached the other couple. The man was obviously Orlesian nobility by the looks of his armor and the female was Ferelden, likely nobility as well. "Well met," he said as he pulled his mount to a stop. "I am Kael Theirin and this is my wife Lorianna Wulff-Theirin. It would appear you are heading to Denerim. Doubt me, your arrival would be welcomed. The man who has proclaimed himself regent despises anything Orlesian. I do not wish to see innocent blood shed."

Cyril patted Luc's neck when the stallion pranced to the side. "I am Lord Cyril de Montfort and this is my wife, Lady Darling de Montfort, formerly Lady Darling Mari Telmen of the Winter's Breath bannorn. The Bannorns were attacked by Loghain's men. A Grey Warden by the name of Damon spoke of what happened at Ostagar and about the Blight. I sent a man to Chateau Haine for reinforcements and the rest of my men and I came forthwith. We wish to offer our assistance fighting the Blight. That is where I met my lady, wife – fighting Loghain's men."

Darling nudged her mount closer to get a better look at the man that had greeted them. The man's hair was golden rather than pale blonde, but there was no denying that he looked like King Cailan. King Maric was a busy man. "You said your name was Theirin – then you are the reason the Landsmeet was called. You intend to take your throne from Loghain? We will gladly assist you in that as well. Loghain is mad to start a civil war in the middle of a Blight. A war that cost my father his life and my mother her will to live."

"I am sorry for your loss," Kael told her. "I have a similar loss. Howe's men attacked Cousland Castle under the pretense of friendship. My parents were killed in the battle along with a great many men I grew up with. Loghain is trying to take out any that would oppose his claim on the throne."

The Teyrna of Highever and the king. She tamped down on that train of thought. It didn't matter anymore. None of it mattered except getting Loghain off the throne and fighting the Blight. "You likely know Bann Loren lost his wife in the assault on Highever. I think he means to hire an assassin to go after either Howe or Loghain. It is only a suspicion." She briefly explained what happened with the assassin.

"Thank you for informing us. I do hope this assassin is not a problem. Howe owes me a personal debt…and I intend to collect it myself. As for Loghain…As king, it is my duty to deal with the traitor who killed my brother, Cailan." Kael couldn't stop looking at the woman's face. Something seemed so familiar about her. "Have we met before, my lady? You seem…familiar…but I can't place where I might have seen you."

Darling shook her head. "I know my parents have gone to Orlais with your parents a few times, but I never met any of their children. Though, I quite know what you mean. It does feel as though I've seen you before." She shook her head. "Most perplexing."

Lorianna looked from her husband to Lady de Montfort. Oddly, they looked like they could be related. "Are you of Theirin blood, Lady de Montfort?"

Icy shock slid through Darling's veins. "What? No! Or course not. My parents are Lorint and Darling Telmen. Why would you say that?"

Kael chuckled. "My wife has better eyes than I. I see a resemblance now. No offense was meant. It would not be the first time my…father coerced a noble woman to bear his child." And now that he saw the resemblance, he couldn't unsee it. Was Lady Telmen de Montfort one of Maric's bastards? Did he have another sister? Focus, Kael. Now was not the time to explore that possibility. There would be time enough to investigate after the Blight. Even so, it bothered him at the thought of losing another sibling before he had the chance to know them as such.

Darling raised a hand to rub her forehead. No…no...no…what was said could not be true. Her mother would never do such a thing. Her father's death was killing her mother. No one who loved another that much would…would do such a despicable thing. "I'm sure it is just coincidence. My mother never visited the royal estate without my father and she only went to a few of the Landsmeets over the years. She preferred to stay home with Lorwynn and I. So, no. I am not Maric's bastard."

A harsh breath slipped from Kael's lips. "Nor am I a bastard. Not in the usual sense. I had a father who raised me and loved me as his own. I owe who I am to Bryce Cousland – and until a few months ago, I carried his name. I would suspect, the same could be said for you – were it proven you were Maric's. But whether we are related or not is a matter for another time. We have more pressing concerns. Just know that I would welcome another sibling. Now," he said, clearing his throat. "your men may join ours. The men will make camp on the outskirts of Denerim. I have no desire to tip my hand to Loghain just yet. My wife and I, along with a few other nobles will adjourn to Arl Eamon's estate, since I have little desire to visit the Cousland estate just yet. You and Lady de Montfort are both welcome to join us at the estate, but I ask that your men remain behind with mine for now. Once the Landsmeet is won, then all the armies will join to go after the darkspawn. Right now, I cannot risk fear of an Orlesian invasion turning the tides of the Landsmeet towards Loghain. I hope you understand."

"Mon dieu…We would want that no more than you, your Highness. We will stand behind you. As will the chevaliers my father will be sending as reinforcements. We should not be doomed to suffer the sins of our fathers. We will show Thedas the past does not have to cripple the future. We shall aid you in taking your throne and fighting the Blight as allies," Cyril inclined his head to the man that would be king, "this I so swear." He nudged Luc forward and held out his hand.

Kael clasped forearms with the Orlesian. "I will inform my men of our alliance and we will join with you shortly." He wheeled Taibor around and hurried back towards Eamon, Teagan and his family to explain what happened.

A small smile lit Eamon's face. "You are wise to accept help when it is given. Our war with Orlais is in the past, there is no reason we cannot be allies." The smile faded. "Loghain has become too twisted by hate to see that." He cleared his throat. "Are you sure you want to meet at my estate? I thought we'd be meeting…"

Kael held up his hand. "I'm not ready to visit the Cousland estate," he admitted. "Not after…"

Of course. He should have considered that. It would be hard to visit his family's estate when his parents would not be there to greet him. "I understand, Kael. I'll send a couple of men on to my estate so that staff can prepare for our arrival." Eamon backed his horse away and rode towards his elite guard.

"He means it, you know," Teagan assured the king. "We think no less of you for not wanting to face those memories when you need to remain focused on the regaining the throne and ending the Blight. Your head is where it needs to be and we all need it to remain there. The past can be dealt with later."

He swallowed and it felt like a stone slid down his throat. "Thank you for understanding. Our men will join with the chevaliers and bannorn soldiers and will camp on the outskirts of Denerim while we go on to Eamon's estate. The Orlesians cannot be seen until we've won the Landsmeet. The vote is too critical to risk."

"I agree," Teagan concurred with a nod of his head. He turned to see three men, bent low over their saddles, racing off towards his brother's estate. A few moments later, Eamon rejoined them.

"I've explained things to the men," Eamon told them. "We should move out, before scouts bring word of our arrival to Loghain."

"Well said," Kael agreed and they fell back into formation. When they reached the other small army, Kael and his followers took the lead. The de Montforts, Bann Loren and Bann Franderel fell into line behind Eamon and Teagan, with the soldiers merging behind them.

Traveling together over the next week brought the soldiers closer together. Once darkness fell, you could hear laughter over stories and games – it would seem that men were men no matter where they were from: Orlais, Ferelden, Avvar, Chasind, the Cult of Andraste…Without a reason to fight, they bonded. That gave Kael hope that the same could be said for the humans, mages, dwarves and elves – that they would find that same comradery and balance that his men had. Ferelden needed everyone united as one to defeat the Blight.

They waited for the cover of night to adjourn to Eamon's estate. Come the morning light, Gallagher and Staria had arrived at Eamon's estate to reunite with their children.

Staria hugged Izot, Azur, Laura, Seb and Kael before she pulled Lorianna into her strong embrace. "It has been too long. I felt your arrival last night and your father had to sit on me to keep me coming to see you the moment I felt your arrival." She felt the heat scald her cheeks. Oh, he sat on her alright then he proceeded to make love to her. He'd kept her distracted until she fell into an exhausted slumber. But she rose early, before he could distract her again.

"I'm sorry…we meant to come…"

"Hush it," Staria admonished. "I miss you, but I don't expect you to be tied to my apron strings for the rest of your life." She smiled at her use of words she never would have said in her time. "I'm just glad I got to watch you grow into a magnificent woman. It's more than…" her words trailed away. It was more than any jedi was allowed. Children entered the academy as younglings and families faded into a past barely remembered. She regretted losing Kyrian and her friends, but she had her children.

"I know," she said quietly. She could not imagine the life her mother had told her about. It reminded her a lot of what the Circle did. Took children away from their parents. She was glad no one came and took her away. She and her brother and sister been blessed with the love of a mother and a master. They didn't need any academy to learn what it meant to be a jedi. She pulled back from her mother to give her father a hug. "Where is Berchan and Kyrian? I feel them…I thought they'd have come with you."

Staria shook her head slowly. She'd hoped to have all of her …remaining children in one place. She longed to see them all together again as a family. But there would be time enough for that. "Berchan and his lovely wife Lyrica -" When her husband grunted, she elbowed him in the ribs. "They went with Tayln, Morrigan, Zevran and Syn to investigate some sort of unrest in the Alienage. Kyrian said he had an errand to run with Ser Gilmore and Bethany. He and Starlynn left the Wulff estate this morning along with a woman we were not familiar with just before we left to come here."

"It is obvious that Berchan introduced you both to all of my Paladins. When did they arrive? Do you know where they are lodged?" she asked her mother.

"They arrived a day before we did – nearly two weeks ago. We saw little sense in them paying to stay somewhere when we had plenty of empty rooms. Your Paladins are living with us at the moment. We will help you and Kael in any way that we can. You know that."

"I do." She knew better than to thank her mother for her kindness. "That means we have two weeks left to garner support from the nobles that are coming for the Landsmeet and to hopefully find evidence that will knock Loghain off his hero pedestal."

"Won't Maric's missive be enough to put my son on the throne?" Gallagher inquired.

Kael looked over at his father and grinned. The man had always been a father figure and it shouldn't have surprised him that Gallagher would claim him as a son. "It will be, but so long as many still view Loghain as a hero, the kingdom will remain divided and we would still risk another civil war. But if we can find any incriminating evidence that Loghain was a traitor to the crown or had a hand in any illegal activities then people will not see him as the man he used to be. I would like to make my ascension to the throne as painless as possible."

"You've a good head on your shoulders, son. It is unfortunate about Cailan, but you will do your brother's memory proud. You are the king Ferelden needs right now."

"Thank you…dad. Have you been to see Anora?"

Gallagher frowned. "We tried, but Loghain's men refused to let us into the castle."

Staria saw her children look her way and knew what they were thinking. "I wasn't going to force the matter, especially if it meant forcing a castle full of people. There has to be another way to get to her." It was the most she was willing to say in mixed company.

"It is likely scouts have already informed Loghain of our arrival." Eamon nodded at Gallagher and Staria. "Since you called the Landsmeet, he cannot refuse to speak to you, lest he lose face. He will no choice but to show himself – to oppose us directly. We should ride to the palace – see if we can end this amicably. I doubt it will be so easy, he is mad with power now. We all know that he will strike back at us. The only question that remains is how soon."

The doors of the Greathall were flung open and two guards came rushing in. "The Teyrn has arrived…along with Arl Howe. What would you have us do?"

Eamon squared his shoulders. "Your Highnesses – now is not the time to attack Howe. We cannot do anything that would jeopardize your claim to the throne. We need to gather evidence before we go to battle." He lifted his head to look at his guards. "Show the self-proclaimed regent and his lackies in. They are safe within these walls…for now."

They took a moment to just look at each other as Loghain, Howe, and some woman in armor were escorted into the greathall.

"Loghain. This is…an honor, that the regent would find time to greet me personally," Eamon said in the most controlled voice he was capable of. Despite his words, he was not so calm as he appeared. The man before him had set forth events that devastated his lands and nearly cost him the lives of his family.

Loghain looked around the hall. A great many nobles were here. Nobles that should have been dead already. Two faces he couldn't place, yet both seeming familiar to him. No matter, it would come to him. "It was not you I came to speak to. You have led me a merry chase Arl Wulff. A man so important as to call every Lord in Ferelden away from his estates while a Blight claws at our land."

Darling bristled. "Perhaps, that's something you should have thought of before you instigated a civil war with the bannorns!"

His gaze narrowed on the blonde. She looked familiar. Too familiar, but he could not place her face. "And you are?"

She squared her shoulders. "Bann Darling of the Winter's Breath bannorn."

Something niggled at the back of his mind, but he disregarded it. If she was the Bann then that meant Bann Lorint was dead. "If your father had backed me then he would still be alive to fight the Blight." The man next to her grabbed the blonde and held on tight.

"The Blight is why we're here," Gallagher deep voice rumbled. "With Cailan dead, Ferelden needs a king to lead us against the darkspawn."

Loghain stopped his gaze before it landed on Maric's bastard brat. A brat raised by a man with ties to Orlais. "Ferelden has a strong leader," he said with a slash of his hand. "It's queen. And I lead her armies." He forced his face to reveal nothing. "And who's this? Some stray you picked up along the way? And here I thought it was only royal bastards you wet-nursed, Eamon."

Kael grinned. He knew well that Loghain knew exactly who he was. He'd certainly argued with the man enough at Ostagar. He also knew the man had to know exactly who his father truly was. He clucked his tongue and shook his head. "It is most unfortunate that the self-proclaimed regent has such a…subjective memory. Perhaps, there are other things he has…forgotten."

"Ah, yes…Cailan's little puppy from Ostagar," Loghain sneered. "You were as unmemorable there as you are now." He refused to acknowledge the man's position of Teyrn of Denerim. Cailan had been foolish to recreate the teynir just to keep his own borther's wife nearby.

The grin did not slip, instead Kael laughed softly. "One thing you can depend on, Loghain. You will never forget me." His gaze swung to Rendon Howe. "Nor will you ever take the Teyrnir of Highever from the Couslands."

Rendon quirked a brow, confident in his standing with the regent. "The Couslands are dead. The Teyrnir of Highever belongs to the Howes. And rightfully so."

Kael folded his arms over his chest. "You really should keep better updated on the holdings you try to steal. Your men are dead and no Howe will ever step foot in my home again. You both have already lost and you can't even see it."

Cuathrian stepped forward, angered at the blatant disrespect the regent was being shown. "You are either very bold or very stupid to threaten the Teyrn before witnesses."

Loghain needed to regroup. They were far outnumbered within the castle walls. "Enough, Cuathrian! This is neither the time nor place." He leveled his gaze on Arl Wulff. "I had hoped to talk you down from this rash course, Gallagher...People are frightened. Our king is dead, our land is under siege. We must be united if we are to endure this crisis." He swiveled to look at Eamon. "Your own sister, Queen Rowan, fought tirelessly to see Ferelden restored. Would you see her work destroyed? You defied our nation and weaken our efforts against the Blight with your selfish ambitions for the throne!"

His fists tightened and Kael had to forcibly relax them. "My throne, Loghain. And do not talk of selfish ambitions to me. You were behind the slaughter of my family. You sent a bloodmage to poison Eamon so that he would not send his army to Ostagar. You left my brother to die on the battlefield instead of sending in the bulk of the army when the beacon was lit. Don't even bother telling me you knew we couldn't win and pulled your men. You knew no such thing. You couldn't see the battle well from your position which is why you needed the beacon lit! You belittled the Grey Wardens, calling them traitors to the crown just so people wouldn't listen when they spoke the truth of what happened. You forced a civil war in the bannorn just because they wouldn't bow to your tyranny, rather than trying to curry favor with them. You had the archivist killed so that he couldn't read the missive my father wrote proclaiming me heir to the throne. You may have once been the hero Ferelden needed most, but you are nothing more than a twisted man now. You want us to unite? Then lay down your claim for a throne that is not yours and stand with us. It is what my father wanted."

Loghain squared his shoulders. No. That wasn't right. None of it was. He wasn't the traitor, was he? No. Everything he'd done, he'd done for Ferelden - to keep her out of Orlesian hands. Rowen, his love, wanted Ferelden restored and he would restore her, if he had to do it by himself. "Maric is dead, boy! And I wasn't speaking to you."

"I cannot forgive what you have done, Loghain," Eamon told him. More than conflicted by the man he once saw as a friend.

"Nor can we," Staria Wulff stated coldly. "The Couslands were as family to us. You and Howe -" Her grip tightened on the hilt of her lightsaber. "As my son said, you've already lost."

Eamon ran his hand over his beard. He needed to keep control of the conversation and make sure it didn't turn bloody. The Landsmeet had to decide Loghain's fate – killing the man now would only martyr him and muddy the new king. "Perhaps the maker can forgive all that you have done, but not us. Our people deserve a king of the Theirin bloodline. Kael will be the one to lead us to victory in this Blight."

Loghain fought to control the twitch in his cheek as he stepped forward into Eamon's personal space. "The Emperor of Orlais also thought I could not bring him down. Expect no more mercy than I showed him. There is nothing I would not do for my homeland."

"So it would appear," Sebastian scoffed.

"And you are?" Loghain growled, sending the young man a hard look.

"Sebastian Vael, Prince of Starkhaven and a member of the Wulff family."

He barely kept the sneer off his face. "At least you are not another one of Maric's bastards playing make-believe." Loghain forced himself to take a deep breath. He did not want to start a war with another country. "This is not your fight, Prince Sebastian. You would be wise to return home and see to your own throne."

"It is far more wise of me to stand by my wife's family – especially when my throne isn't going anywhere. My parents and my older siblings can see to Starkhaven's throne." Sebastian cocked a brow, unable to keep the sarcastic remark in check. "Unless…that is…you intend to have my family butchered as well?"

He could feel his cheek twitch again. He wanted to tell this upstart boy where to go, but he could ill afford a war with Starkhaven. Instead, Loghain spun on his heel to put distance between himself and the people that should have been naught more than cold corpses by now.

"I want to speak with Anora." Kael's voice rang out loud through the hall.

"And I want you gone. It would seem we both need to get used to disappointment." Loghain retorted as he left the Greathall.

Eamon frowned as his old friend slipped out of sight. "Well, that was bracing. I didn't expect Loghain to show himself quite so soon. I thought we would have to hunt him down."

Kael released a cleansing breath. "I cannot tell you how hard it was to stay my sword. Howe will not get away with his crimes against my family." He rubbed his forehead. Both of his families were dead because of those two men. "Neither will Loghain. Cailan was my brother."

"You must let the Landsmeet decide Loghain's fate. We need the public to support you – not vilify you." Eamon could empathize with the young king. Loghain deserved death for what he'd done to Ferelden. And if he were as young as the king, he might be less inclined to follow his own advice. "You must also keep in mind that Howe will be well defended. He always seemed like the kind of man who enjoyed kicking stray dogs. I never would have thought Loghain would trust him. Do not get caught with your guard down, your Majesty. Expect more assassination attempts. For now," he said, "talk to the nobles in town. See how many you can sway to our favor. Perhaps, seeing you for themselves – seeing how much your favor Maric and Cailan will be enough to garner their support. And remember, find anything you can to discredit Loghain. Now, I must see that our other guests are settling in."

-BREAK TWO-

After Eamon left, Staria took her daughter, Laura, aside. "There is something I want you to have. Normally, you would have been required to put it together yourself. Not just because it is jedi tradition, but because you must have full knowledge in order to repair it." She snapped the extra lightsaber off her magbelt, placed it on her palm and held it out to her daughter. "When we have time, I will have you disassemble and reassemble it so that you can make any repairs needed."

Laura could only stare at the weapon on her mother's palm. Her own lightsaber. She never truly believed it would be possible. She carefully picked the hilt up and examined it. "Is it powered by lyrium?"

"It is," Staria replied with a nod. "I am surprised I was able to get it to work at all. I might have failed all together had that nice little dwarf named Garrett not helped."

She turned the hilt over in her hand. Something was missing. "How do I turn it on?"

"Ah..." Staria tapped a finger to the side of her head. "This is a dangerous weapon – something no one but a jedi should wield. The trigger switch is inside the hilt. Only a jedi can ignite it." She saw the strained look on her daughter's face and understood the problem. "Take me to your room. I can't believe I did not think of it. You must see how it is put together, know what the switch looks like in order to activate it. I'll dissemble it slowly, then I'll have you put it back together. In doing so, you will learn how it works." She turned to husband and children. "We have something we must do for now, but we will join you shortly in town to continue schmoozing the nobles."

Kael watched them leave and then glanced down at his wife who just nodded. "Time to uh…schmooze then. Let's make a fine show of it and see what else we can learn."

Since it was too crowded by day and they did not wish to stand out, they chose to walk the streets of Denerim, rather than ride. Sebastian and Gallagher stayed behind with their wives; the others followed him out of the estate and into the warmth of the rising sun. He was the Teyrn of Denerim and it had been months since he'd been home. Once the throne was settled, he needed to confer with his wife over who to give the title of Teyrn of Denerim to. Ironically, it wasn't even safe to approach his home. Cailan had shared the Royal Palace with he and Lor, since the Royal Palace used to belong to the Teyrn before the title was disbanded. He wondered if Loghain gave the Teyrnir to Howe too or if he had kept it himself. How could a man become so twisted? How could Loghain ever think that Maric would have approved of any of this?

A bump against his leg brought him out of his thoughts. Legion and Taltos were jumping excitedly around them. "I hope you two have been staying out of trouble." Small yips accompanied happy butt wags. "Fine. You can come with us – but no stealing treats from children." They both tilted their heads and whined. He chuckled. "I know you have far better manners than that." With more happy butt wiggles, they took off smelling trails only they could see.

They'd hit several bars and shops that the local nobility frequented when Alistair came to a full stop. All thoughts of finding more nobles to woo to their side slipped from his mind as he stared at the ramshackle residence.

"Why are we here?" Kadar asked, his senses on high alert since their surroundings began to deteriorate. "No noble would wish to be seen in this part of town. You are more likely to get your throat cut than your purse strings."

Lorianna said not a word, but motioned towards Alistair as comprehension of their location dawned on him.

"That's it. I mean, that's her – or at least that's where she lives," Alistair said as he raised an arm to point at the small shanty.

"Your sister, Goldanna?" Lor asked quietly. She was pretty sure she'd maneuvered them in the right direction. Now, she knew she had been correct.

His heart hammered in his chest and he felt a cold chill all over. After so many years…he might finally meet his sister. What would she be like? Would she have wondered about him as well? "Yes! Yes…that is the right address. She could be inside. Could we…uh…go and see?"

"We?" Kael asked curiously. "You wish us to meet her too?" He had thought his brother would have wanted some time alone with his sister.

"Wait. What? Of course, I want you there to meet her. You're my family too. We'll be one big, happy family." Alistair beamed a smile and then cleared his throat. "Do I look nervous to you?" He cleared his throat again. "Or we can leave, I suppose. We really don't have time to pay a visit…"

Kael clasped an arm around his brother's shoulders, gave him a brief squeeze and then slapped his back. "You're fine, brother. And we'll be there right beside you," he assured him.

"You three go on in. Kadar and I will remain on guard outside," Liliana put forth with a shooing motion towards the sagging front door.

Alistair swallowed a massive ball of nerves and knocked on the door, someone yelled it was open and he once more shook off the uncertainty that almost sent him running. No. He wouldn't do that. Not in front of his brother…his friends. With a self-assuring nod, he opened the door and slipped into the dingy hut. Kael and Lor's solid presence hardening his resolve. He caught sight of a copper-haired woman who was turned away from him. "Hello?"

Goldanna turned around and saw three nicely armored people. Nobility if she knew her togs right. She'd never had such in her home before. Mayhap, she could earn more coin this day. "You have linens to wash? I charge three bits on the bundle; you won't find better." Normally, she'd charge 2 bits, but them there fancy folks looked like they could afford far more than three bits. She'd even use a dab of crystal grace oil to make the linens smell all pretty-like. "And don't trust what that Natalia woman tells you either – she'd foreign and she'll rob you blind."

Alistair glanced uneasily at his brother and then focused on Goldanna. "I'm not here to have any wash done." He swallowed again. "My name's Alistair. I'm – well, this may sound sort of strange…but are you Goldanna? If so, I suppose I'm your brother."

"My what?" His words barely even registered with her. "I'm Goldanna, yes….how do you know my name?" She eyed the others, their togs even fancier than the man addressing her. "What tomfoolery are you folk up to?"

He could imagine his sister would be shocked seeing him just show up. "Look, our mother, she worked as a servant in Redcliffe Castle a long time ago…before she died. Do you know about that? She…"

Reality slammed into Goldanna. "You! I knew it! They said you was dead! They told me the babe was dead along with mother, but I knew they was lying!"

That was certainly not what Alistair had expected to hear. "They told you I was dead? Who? Who told you that?"

"Them's at the castle. I told them the babe was the king's and they said he was dead. Gave me a coin to shut my mouth and sent me on my way. I knew it!" All this time. All this time a lie! She'd nearly died in the street for want of a meal…a place to live. They killed her mother – they stole her brother and what was she left with? Nothing!

Alistair rubbed the back of his heated neck. Why had they lied to her? He needed to talk to Eamon about that. "I'm sorry, I didn't know that. The babe didn't die. I'm him. I'm your brother."

Did he really think - prancing in here in his fancy togs after all these years, that she'd welcome him with open arms? He killed her mother. "For all the good it does me! You killed mother, you did, and I had to scrape by all this time. That coin didn't last long and when I went back, they ran me off! And who in the Maker's name are you?" She asked as she turned her sights on the two fancy dressed nobles. "You just here to rub my face in what should have been mine?"

Kael quirked a brow at her spiteful tone. He couldn't imagine what it must have been like for her when she lost her mother at such a young age. Her life could not have been easy. Still, her attitude rankled him. "What should have been yours?"

"Money…fancy clothes..a better lot. Mother bore the king's brat, she did. We deserved to be taken care of! But he killed her," she said, motioning towards Alistair, "and I was left with less than nothing. All you nobles are the same – selfish wastrels!"

She was right, Kael mused. Had her mother survived, she and her children would have been taken care of – such was custom among nobility – though not guaranteed. Why hadn't she been apprenticed in the castle? Had Eamon viewed her as too much of a threat to keeping Alistair's identity hidden?

He didn't care what Goldanna said to him, but having her bitterness turned on his brother and sister was more than Alistair could bear. "Hey! Don't you talk to them that way! He's my brother - the rightful king of Fereldon and she's the queen!"

The king and queen in her humble abode? Was she supposed to fall to her knees in gratitude? "Oh…I see. A prince and the king and queen. Imagine that. Well, who am I to think poorly of folks so high and mighty compared to me? I don't know you, boy. Your royal father forced himself on my mother and took her away from me. And what do I got to show for it? Nothing. They tricked me good! I should have told everyone! I've got five mouths to feed – and unless you can help with that, I've got less than no use for you."

Was this terrible woman really his sister? Maybe he'd been naive hoping his sister would welcome him into her life, but he hadn't expected her to be like this. "I…I'm sorry. I..I don't know what to say."

Lorianna took a cleansing breath to maintain her calm. Alistair did not deserve to be treated like that, regardless of the woman's right to be bitter. She untied the coin purse from her belt, counted out fifteen gold pieces and flipped them one at a time at the woman's feet. "I agree that you were not treated fairly. But that doesn't give you the right to treat your brother like that. He is not responsible for how you were treated. He wanted to be a part of your life." She kicked a coin with the toe of her boot. "Once the Blight has been dealt with, bring your family to Royal Palace – we will find lodging and work for you there, if you want it. But you will work for your pay and your children will be schooled – that is more than your actions here today deserve." She took Alistair's arm and maneuvered him out the door.

Kael turned to Goldanna. "We are giving you this chance because we agree that you were treated unfairly. Since you have less than no use for my brother, then I do not consider you family even in the broadest sense. But do not think to hurt my brother again. Your welcome at the castle is contingent on your behavior. Consider that, before you open your mouth and spew more venom." He turned his back and stepped back out into the sun-filled slums.

Alistair stopped his pacing when he saw his brother. "Well, that was not what I expected…to put it lightly. This was the family I've been wondering about all my life? That shrew is my sister? I can't believe it. I guess I was expecting her to accept me with no questions. Isn't that what family is supposed to do? I…I feel like a complete idiot."

She took Alistair's gauntleted hand, wishing she could feel the warmth of his skin. "She should not have treated you the way she did. You were not to blame, but I can understand her bitterness. Had her mother lived, it is common practice for nobility to take care of women who birth their…children. While it is not universally practiced, it is the unspoken norm. But your mother died and your sister was disregarded. Regardless what societal norm might be, she's not entitled to anything. No amount of abusive words will change that."

"Lor's right. Rich or poor, many people are not accepting of their station and demand more – no matter who they have to hurt to get it. You are the crown prince of Fereldon – next in line for the throne. You don't need someone like that in your life. You are a strong man, surrounded by people that care about you. We Theirins stand united. Together we will end the Blight and root out the corruption that weakens our country. We will bring the noble back to nobility and ensure all of Ferelden's peoples are treated fairly." He gripped his brother's hand and his wife's, raising them into the air. "We are the Theirins and we will succeed!"

Alistair's shoulders straightened and he drew himself up. His brother truly believed in him. Nobody had ever truly believed in him before…maybe Ann, but that was different. Even Duncan coddled him and kept him out of danger. He repeated Lor's words, 'To the Theirins!'. Afterwards, they both slapped his shoulder pauldrons. He could do this. No…he would do this. The idea of ruling Fereldon didn't seem as daunting as it once had. If fact, he wasn't sure why he'd ever thought of it that way. He wanted to stand by his brother's side and fight for his country's honor. And he could not think of anyone better to train him in his duties. He would watch and he would learn. He would not disappoint his brother. "I believe we have more nobles to woo."

Liliana leaned close to Kadar. "Alistair needed that," she murmured. "Our little prince is growing up."

-Unrest at the Alienage-

(Tayln, Morrigan, Berchan, Lyrica, Fen, Zevran and Syn)

The man stepped out of the shadows and peered down the stone stairs. "Here we have the fearful Paladins and mighty Grey Warden. Such a boon to have so many of you together at one time. The Crows send their regards once again."

"And so they send you…Taliesen." He did not try to hide the sorrow in his voice. Taliesen had once been one of his closest friends. If, indeed, one could truly trust in such a friendship with a Crow. "Or did you volunteer for the job?"

"I volunteered, of course," Taliesen admitted. "When I heard that the great Zevran had gone rogue, I simply had to see it for myself."

"Is that so?" Zevran inquired with a tilt of his head. "Well then – here I am…in the flesh." If Taliesen took the contract, there would be no talking him out of it.

Taliesen took a step towards his old friend. "Look – you can return with me, Zevran. I know why you did this. I don't blame you – it's not too late. Come back. We can make up a story. Anyone can make a mistake."

Zevran glanced down at Syn and smiled softly. There was no choice to be made here. "I'm sorry it has come to this, Taliesen. I will not give up the life that I have now."

"What?" What happened to the Zevran he knew? "You've gone soft!"

"When a man has found a home, he would be unwise to give it up, no?" He hated what was about to happen, but he would hate losing Syn…his friends…his new found self-worth even more. "I'm sorry, old friend…the answer is no. I'm not coming back…and you should have stayed in Antiva."

Over a dozen men came out of hiding, essentially surrounding them. But the six of them and Lyrica's wolf, Fen, proved to be more than a match for twelve Crows. It would appear the Crows learned nothing from his earlier defeat. Zevran slipped his dagger from between his old friend's ribs. "You should have gone home, my friend." He wiped his blade clean on Taliesen's gambeson. His caught Syn's worried look. "And there it is. Taliesen is dead and I am free of the Crows. I believe they will assume that I am dead along with Taliesen. So long as I do not make my presence known to them, they will not seek me out"

"Morrigan," he said as he looked over at the mage. "Garrett told me what you did for him. Will you do for me as you did for him and wiggle your fingers to make this go away?" he asked as he lifted a finger to the marks on his cheek. The mark was a part of him – but it was also a part of the Crows. To keep a low profile, the mark would have to go. And a hair cut would also prove most advantageous right now.

The mage sighed at being put out. Honestly, she could find no fault in his choice. Indeed, it was a wise decision on his part. "if such is your wish." She motioned towards his head. "I would also cut my hair, were I you." She lifted her palm to his cheek and covered the marks. She softly repeated the mantra until he hissed and his cheek became hot to the touch. She pulled her hand away to see two angry red welts, the only signs left of the tattoo he'd once had.

"Thank you, Morrigan," Syn told her. "I, too, owe you a debt of gratitude." But would he come to regret the loss of his tattoo?

"'Tis quite unnecessary," she said with a wave of her hand. "What?" she asked Tayln when he looked at her in surprise.

Tayln grinned and pulled her in for a kiss. "I'm so proud of you right now."

His words brought a foolish smile to her face. Her man was so easily pleased. Still…he was far more adventurous in bed when he was pleased with her. Though, in truth, she had not spoken those word to curry such favor. She was, however, not above benefitting from it. Had she really changed so much? His kisses caused her thoughts to scatter.

"There are more romantic places than an alley full of corpses, yes?" Zevran teased. "Then again…perhaps you know something I don't." He scooped Syn up in his arms for a heated kiss and found he was, indeed, thrilled to be kissing her in a corpse strewn alley. There was something forbidden…and wicked about making love amongst the dead. Tayln was a clever man, indeed.

Berchan shook his head over his companion's randy theatrics. "While I'd like nothing more than to kiss Lyrica senseless, there is a time and place for that and it is not…here. Especially, when we are almost to the alienage."

They resumed their journey through Denerim and hurried across the bridge to the alienage. Few people mingled in between the bridge and the tall, wooden gate that protected the entrance of the alienage. It didn't take long for them to see that something was very wrong here. Some of his people were coughing, weak and lethargic. He could not expect Morrigan to heal them all…no, he needed to find the cause of the illness – see if there was any way to slow or reverse the damage. Was that old man Willik? He shook his head. He could not focus on the ill right now. There would be time enough for that later. He hoped. "There," he said, motioning to a hut. "That was my home."

Morrigan bit her lip. How could a good man come from poverty such as this? Poverty bred thieves and bandits – yet, Tayln was nothing like that. He was honorable and sickeningly compassionate. He was a good, honest man. She did not deserve a man such as he. Perhaps one day she would.

He stepped through the door and grinned when he saw his cousin, Soris, gazing into the fire that warmed the hut. "Soris!" The young, red-haired man spun around in surprise. He must have been lost in thought.

Relief filled Soris' heart. "Cousin? Welcome home! Come in, come in! We assumed you were with the other Wardens at Ostagar. Things..uh.. have been…difficult since you've been gone."

"I've heard. Or at least I've heard mention of some unrest. I came as soon as I could," Tayln informed his cousin.

Soris' gaze slid to the flames before returning to meet Tayln's eyes. "Arl Howe led a purge. Vengeance for Vaughan's death, they say."

The guilt was nearly crippling. Then this…what happened was hist fault. He'd led the attack on Vaughan to retrieve the brides. He'd killed Vaughan. He'd been forced to flee with the Grey Warden and his people paid the price for his choices. "I – I should have stayed…" he shook his head. "How many died because of me?"

Anger sparked in Soris. That his cousin would take the blame. "They didn't die because of you! We both fought to get our brides back. We both stood up for our people. Our choice to free our women was sanctioned by the elders…most of them. You shouldered the blame once. I won't let you shoulder it again." He raked a hand through his shaggy red hair. "But to answer your question, I don't know. After the purge came some sort of pestilence. It's hard to say who was killed by soldiers and who fell to disease."

"My father…"

"I – I don't know. The healers took him into quarantine a few days ago. I'm sorry, cousin."

"What about your…Valora?" he asked, uncertain if he wanted to hear any more, but knowing he had to.

His heart clenched painfully. There had been few good days since Vaughan interrupted their weddings with violence. "My wife went to the hospice over a week ago. They said…they said she had the plague. I didn't believe it. I mean, she was fine! But they took her to quarantine. I haven't seen her since."

This didn't sound good at all. "So, our people are taken into quarantine and never seen again. Where is this quarantine?"

Soris rubbed the back of his neck, his hand fell numbly to his side. If this was a nightmare, he wanted to wake up. He wanted to hold his wife again, find peace in her arms. "It's in a house on the north side of the square. You can't miss it, cousin, there's a huge crowd there now."

"I'll see what I can find out, cousin. I'm sorry I wasn't here," Tayln told him.

"Enough, cousin! None of this is your fault. If you were here, you would probably have been killed during the purge. Those that fought back died. You would have fought back. You left to try to keep us safe. There was nothing more you could have done. You are not to blame. We are not to blame. Nobles are to blame. No one else!" he said in finality as his hand sliced through the air to punctuate his words.

Morrigan gripped Tayln's forearm. "You are too eager to take blame that is not yours. The elf - your cousin, sees more clearly than you. You would be wise to heed his words."

A slow breath slipped from Tayln's lips and he nodded. If he'd stayed, he'd have been executed for killing Vaughan. If he'd come back sooner, he probably would have died in the purge. This was not his life anymore, but he would still help his people. "I will look into what is happening at the quarantine house." He pulled his cousin into a brief hug and slapped his back. "Walk in peace, cousin."

He grunted when he nearly tripped over a large orange tabby sprawled outside the door. He knelt to scratch behind the one-eyed cat's ear. "I see you are still alive…and well fed, Ratso."

Berchan blinked and then burst out in laughter. "That doesn't by chance mean rat chasing fatso, does it?"

Talyn rose and grinned. "I saved him once and he paid me back by keeping our house clear of rats ever since. We all benefit from our friendship." His expression grew troubled when he spotted a notice nailed next to a neighbor's door. He hurried over to read what it said. "Bearing arms is strictly forbidden, is it?" he scoffed with a shake of his head. He would not surrender his steel.

The crowd could be heard before it could be seen standing near the massive, gnarled Vhenadahl tree. One familiar voice rang out louder than all the rest. Shianni was ever one to shout, even when a whisper was all that was needed. He doubted his cousin would ever change.

Shianni crossed her arms over her chest. "If you're really so worried about this plague – go home! Crowding around here is what will make you sick!"

"I've got children at home. I can't keep waiting out here. But Saren…my Saren…" a woman cried out.

"Go home!" Shianni cried out in exasperation. "The best thing you can do for your children is not trust these charlatans!"

An auburn-haired mage stepped forward and held his arms out in a placating motion. "Everyone remain calm. We will help as many as we can today, so long as we can do this in an orderly fashion."

Shianni stamped her foot. "Oh, you're 'helping' us, are you, shem? Like Valendrian and my uncle Cyrion? You helped them, didn't you? Helped them never to be seen again!"

The mage grunted. "We've explained this to you before, girl. More whining will not persuade us to let you into the quarantine to carry plague back out to the Alienage."

"Quit trying to get us all killed, Shianni!" an elf told her. "Some of us have still got things to live for."

Shianni rounded on the man. "Think about it, Marin. If this spell of theirs works, why are half the people they quarantine perfectly healthy?"

Tayln crossed his arms over his chest. "I heard you shouting from my house."

She stilled at the sound of a familiar voice. A voice she never expected to hear again. "I don't believe it," she said as she turned to face her cousin. "Maker's breath, they said all the Grey Wardens died with the king. Everyone thought…Valendrian even held a funeral for you." She shook her head. "Cousin, you have no idea…the things that happened after your wedding…I'm babbling, aren't I?" She flung her arms around him and squeezed her eyes shut to hold the tears at bay. She was not a woman that cried foolish tears. Though, perhaps, her cousin coming back from the dead could be an exception. "I'm so happy to see you, Tayln!"

He breathed in her familiar scent - the scent of home and berryweed roots, used to wash clothing and hair. "It is good to see you too, Shianni. I never thought I'd see my old home again." He pulled back, took her hand and squeezed it briefly. "Much has happened since I left, and I will fill you in on what I can when we have the chance to talk. Right now, tell me what's going on. We've noticed some our people appear sick, but we've also heard about disappearances."

"The sickness came from the Blight. Refugees brought this illness with them. These people," she said, flinging her hand in the direction of the Tevinter mages, "say they're here to help us. Funny thing, the people they 'help' all disappear!"

Marni frowned at Shianni. "That's not true and you know it, Shianni! Both my sisters got protections from the plague, and they're fine!"

"What about your niece, though? And my uncle Cyrion, and Valendrian? Where are they? Where is my cousin Soris' wife? She's been missing a great while now."

"My father and Valendrian were just taken a few days ago, is that true?" Tayln inquired.

"Yes. They said they had the plague. But they didn't, Tayln, they were healthy as warhounds. And now they've got them and won't let anyone see them."

Marin sighed, Shiani was ever pushing. "They're educated men, Shianni, they'd know it if they had the plague. And it's not as if Valendrian would make a show of illness even if he were on his deathbed."

The only way to put an end to the quarreling is to find out who or what was behind the door of the quarantine clinic. "I need to get in there, can you draw our people away?" he asked his cousin.

"Doubtful. They aren't listening to reason right now. If you intend to get in, go around back – won't be anyone but a guard or two in the back alley," Shianni told him.

He nodded to Shianni and motioned for the others to follow. He could feel the eyes of many on them and he could understand their concern. Their group was an unlikely mixture of humans and elves, throw a black wolf in the group and they were certainly going to get noticed. He carefully weaved his way amongst the housing and then moved in the direction of the back alley. They'd have drawn too much suspicion if they'd just headed straight to the back alley.

He came to a stop when he saw an armored elf guarding the rear door. Guess they didn't expect anyone to risk the back alley, not that he blamed them for that thought. "I am surprised to see you with the Tevinters. Why are you helping them, Toren?"

"Because I don't have a choice. They Grey Wardens didn't rescue me from a life of poverty. I have a family to feed…and things have gotten…difficult since the plague broke out," he admitted.

Tayln pursed his lips and nodded. He untied the coin purse at his side and pulled out six gold pieces. "We need to get in there and you need to find another way to support your family." He dropped the coins into Toren's hand. "This will hold you over until you find safer work."

Toren closed his hand over the gold pieces. He'd never even seen this kind of coin before, much less have it as his own. "Thank you, Tayln." He dropped the coins in his pocket and with drew the key to the backdoor and pressed it into the other elf's hand. "Walk in peace, my friend."

They sneaked into the room, ducking low along the tables and leapt out at the guards, who had only just realized something was wrong. The guards fell with little more than a wet gurgle. They quickly looked over every scrap of paper and found nothing that incriminated Loghain, but there was evidence of the back-alley apartments being used in some way. At least they had a lead. They shushed some prisoners they found caged and released them, directing them to go out the back door.

Outside, a small, high-pitched shriek drew his attention. A cat had a large rat by the throat. The cat growled, but released its prey when he scooped up the rat. The rat would not survive its injuries. He drew his dagger over its throat and, making a small puddle of blood at the back door and then made a trail of drops going in the opposite direction Toren had taken. It was the best he could do to alleviate suspicion. He tossed the dead rat back toward the cat that seemed to be staring him down and headed towards the apartments.

Berchan was impressed with Tayln's actions. It was not something he would have thought to do. No, he'd have likely just barreled through the apartments with a war cry on his lips. His training as a warrior superseded the training his mother had given him when he was a child. Kael and Kyrian might be able to pull off a mix of the two, but they'd never served in the king's army. A warrior surged forward, trying to draw attention to himself by charging, shouting or banging his sword on his shield, to protect the mages and infiltrators or even innocent bystanders. Covering the act of someone already gone would not have occurred to him. Though, knowing the man had a family and that if the Tevinters found out he would be hunted down, Tayln's actions did make sense.

Th apartments were far quieter than they should have been. So many people living in one small area, voices should have been heard. Room after room appeared to be empty, some seemed as if frozen in time, dinner on the table, its occupants gone. Others, showed signs of struggle. Broken items, drops of blood – sometimes sprays or puddles of blood, as if they occupants fought off their attackers. Were they killed? Kidnapped? Or in hiding? What happened here.

"This does not bode well, my love." Morrigan murmured quietly. "I am at unease here."

"I did not expect to see this here," Syn admitted. "This is what it looks like when one house attacks another in Orzammar – but where are the survivors?"

Fen growled at a puddle of blood and Tayln knelt down beside him. A few brown feathers lie scattered in the dried blood. "Tevinters," he said as he rose to his feet.

"I agree," Lyrica said as she rubbed Fen's head. "There are not enough feathers to have come from a torn pillow…but a hand scrabbling at a feathered robe…" She shivered. "Falon'Din enasal enaste," she murmured a prayer for the dead. "Do you feel it too?" she asked Morrigan.

"I do – 'tis what uneases me." Her spine stiffened. She was not sure she should have admitted that. The stroke of Tayln's hand down her back relaxed her. That he could have that kind of control over her unnerved her. Still, she knew she affected him too and that was, indeed, some soothing solace.

"What are you talking about?" Berchan asked.

Lyrica looked up at her husband. "Fear…sorrow…death…it surrounds us, pushing down against us like a heavy, wet fur blanket."

Berchan rubbed the back of his neck. That would explain the prickly feeling of the small hairs raising on his arms and the back of his neck. "Let us see what else we can find," he replied gruffly.

Further in, rooms showed more of the same, either frozen in time or obvious signs of a scuffle. Nothing that would help them to figure out what was happening. Only a handful of feathers in dried blood – and that was not much of a clue…not one that would be considered proof of misdeeds. "I had hoped to find more…something…" Tayln's words trailed off when he opened the next door and six Tevinter soldiers stopped what they were doing and drew their weapons. This was more promising. He stepped back to allow the warrior through and he and Zev slid into the room behind him.

He felt magic swirl around him, prickling his skin, but not hurting him in any way. The Tevinters could not say the same. Magic and arrows to exposed flesh maimed them enough to take much of the fight out of them. With no enemy mages to worry about, the fight was decidedly in their favor. "Zev, Syn – rifle through their pockets. See if you can find anything to help us. The rest of you, help me search the room."

There had been six large pears sitting on the table – the Tevinters had been so thoughtful. Each of them had been able to enjoy a sweet snack as they searched the room. In the end, only one piece of evidence had been found. A note wrapped around the key. The note simply stated: 'Bring eight males and six females for the next shipment.' The next shipment. Tevinters. "Slavery…" he mumbled. "Why else would Tevinters need males and females rounded up? Our missing people are being sold into slavery."

"Not for long," Berchan rumbled. "Those Tevinters are going to wish they'd never come to Ferelden!"

Tayln turned the key in his hand. "Let's see if we can find out what this key is for."

Turned out it was for a rear exit through an office in the back. The office was as ramshackle as the rest of the apartment.

"This is the way they went," Berchan said as he motioned to the dried blood trial. "I'll follow your lead, but I'm taking point from here, Tayln. I'm the only one carrying a shield and we don't know what we're going to find."

"Sound logic does not offend me, my friend," Tayln teased as he followed Berchan out the door. A Tevinter soldier came forward to meet them.

"What's this? Another shipment already? We weren't-" he looked over the group of humans and elves and noticed the humans weren't wearing Tevinter armor. "Who are you supposed to be and who told you to bring those elves back here?"

Berchan took a step forward. "We were paid to deliver the elves to you. Look, do you want healthy elves or not?" he growled.

"Well…yes," the guard stammered, "but…they're armed."

"if you don't want them…" Berchan shrugged. "Don't say I didn't give you a chance." He smiled as Syn's arrow sang through the air and sank deep into the guard's eyes. The man's legs wobbled for a moment and then he tilted backwards and fell to the ground in a muffled clank of leather and armor.

A shout went out among the remaining six and another battle ensued. Again, they rifled through the pockets of the dead, searching for orders or evidence.

-BREAK THREE-

Morrigan grabbed Tayln's arm and pulled him to a stop. "Soon your dagger would slip from your hand in that river of blood. A wise man would seek help from a willing mage."

He glanced down at the gash on his bicep and the blood that flowed freely. In truth, he had not noticed the wound. The thrill of the battle had kept the wound from being felt. But she was right, without assistance he would not be able to keep up the fight for long. "Then I shall seek one out posthaste."

Morrigan shoved her fingers down onto the top of his wound to close the gash. She smiled at his hiss of pain and softly chanted the spell to heal his flesh. She knew he was teasing her, but mayhap he would not next time. It bothered her more than she cared to admit to see him hurt and she gave him a small push towards the door at the end of the alley.

"I shall thank you …thoroughly later," he murmured quietly before heading towards the far door.

An armored elven woman with a bow slung over her arm and a couple more Tevinter soldiers were behind that door.

"What is the meaning of this?" the elf demanded. "We were told that there would be no interference from the authorities!" Two plain-faced elves, a dalish, a noble dwarf and noble human, a human mage and was that a…a wolf?

"As if Ferelden would allow an elf to be in charge," Tayln scoffed.

"No," the elf archer said. "But you could be a slave…uh property…a servant to that nobleman. Thus, the authorities. You will regret this. We have been given dispensation to do our business here. The humans here talk a great deal about how wrong slavery is, but isn't it funny how quickly the smell of gold overcomes such ideals?"

"You sicken me," Berchan growled. "Nothing you could ever offer would corrupt my ideals – slaver."

"Then it is a good thing your say matters naught. Do you know how difficult it is to acquire new blood? These slaves will fetch an excellent price in the Imperium, and we are paying handsomely for this opportunity. But enough! We will ensure that you slaughter no more of our people."

"You realize we vastly outnumber you, yes?" Zevran inquired with a lift of his brow.

She glanced at her two guards and straightened her shoulders. The elf was right. How could three stand against seven who had already slaughtered larger units than hers? "So be it. I will let Caladrius deal with you while I fetch the Regent's men. I suggest you leave while you still can."

"Maker's balls," Berchan grumbled. "Loghain was behind this. I knew he was a traitor – but selling people into slavery…we need to find evidence to support her claim."

"I intend to," Tayln responded, his voice heavy with anger. He focused on disarming the traps in the room to calm his rage. He would not let any more of his people fall to these Tevinters. And Loghain had even more to answer for.

"We should not have let them go," Morrigan warned.

Syn looked up at the mage and nodded in agreement. "Normally, I would agree – a dead enemy cannot flank you or send for reinforcements. But if Loghain's men are caught with the Tevinters, that would harm Loghain far more than us. Not all battles are won with bloodshed – they just aren't as fun."

"You say the most romantic things, my dear," Zevran cooed.

Berchan grunted and rolled his eyes as he opened the next door. Four Tevinters were there to greet them. The two warriors yelled their battle cries and charged them. Syn, Lyrica and Morrigan kept their two archers too busy to even pay attention to the big black wolf that darted forward. Fen leapt for one of the archer's throats and bore him to the ground in a clash of bodies. The second archer fell to arrows.

They stepped over the bodies to reach the door and hurried down the stairs. Three Tevinters guarded a door at the end of the hall. Zev knelt to disarm the trap at the bottom of the stairs. Tayln threw his daggers as arrows shot by, driving into the Tevinter's unprotected parts. When the men fell, he retrieved his daggers and wiped them on the men's leather armor.

Berchan stepped on the bodies with a grin and opened the door behind the dead Tevinters. Five Tevinters had armed themselves and were in wait. Two hadn't even had time to put their armor on. Three men to guard barracks. Berchan shook his head. An odd place to put guards. Barracks did not usually lead to anyplace useful. He put his thoughts on hold as he swung his shield to send a man crashing over the side of a table.

They cleaned out the Tevinters and eyed the door. Berchan shrugged. "Storage, maybe?"

They stepped through the door stunned by what they'd found. It was a massive storage area with cages of captured elves, along with Tevinters to guard them.

Caladrius just blinked. For the motley crew of well-armed people to have gotten this far, then his men had been decimated. That did not bode well. They even had a mage. Powerful? Who could say, though she seemed confident enough in her abilities. One was obviously a noble – why would he care? Then again, he had three elves with him – servants, perhaps? "I am Caladrius. And you, I assume, are the Grey Warden?" he asked the elf. The only one wearing Grey Warden armor.

"I am one of three Wardens, standing before you. I am surprised you have heard anything," Tayln admitted.

Caladrius shrugged. "One can hardly get a word out of Regent Loghain besides 'Wardens' these days. It surpassed even 'gold' in popularity. That being said, I will offer you a great deal of gold to forget you saw us."

"We have no interest in blood money – I do not put a price on freedom!" Tayln shouted.

"Now…now. There is no need to raise our voices, is there?" Caladrius crooned. "I have heard that you are trying to erode Loghain's support. It must be a difficult task, yes? Like washing away a mountain. Perhaps you could use some help? Truth be told, there was always a limit to how long we were going to be able to operate here. We've paid for many of Loghain's troops, but once the Landsmeet is done we become…inconvenient. So, here is my offer: One hundred sovereigns from you for a letter with the seal of the Teyrn of Gwaren upon it, implicating him in all of this. Then, we leave a few days earlier than planned, with our profits and remaining slaves, unharmed. Even you must admit this is better than resorting to barbarism, yes?"

Syn raised her bow, her arrow flying true, buried itself deep in a guard's eye. "No deal."

He sighed; Caladrius' gaze drawn to the dwarf he'd overlooked before. "I guess we will have to settle things the hard way. My apologies."

Berchan grinned. The mage hadn't given the dwarf the slightest bit of attention. Until now. "It's always the little ones you have to worry about," he teased as the eight Tevinter guards attacked. "You should have taken the mage out first, though."

"He looked bright enough to shield himself, but not bright enough to shield his men," she retorted as she slid down the banister railing to the floor below.

"I hope you did not get any splinters in unfortunate places," Zevran teased.

"I'm sure you will kiss any injuries better," she said with a laugh as she shot another arrow.

Zevran grinned as he knocked a shield aside, spun his dagger and drove it between the gaps of the guard's armor. The gurgling sound the man made was music to his ears. "I love the way you think, my dear."

Tayln and Berchan focused on the mage, while the others focused on the ten remaining guards. The main goal was to keep the mage focused on keeping himself alive so that he did not assist his guards or go after Morrigan.

The mage kept himself well-shielded. And even had energy to throw irritating spells at them, but he would not be able to keep it up. Then again, neither could Morrigan who rotated between spelling shields on them and offensive spells on the enemy. Tayln blinked. That wasn't Morrigan's healing spell. This one was gentler, like a cool liquid surrounding him. Lyrica. He grinned as he slashed out against the mage's shield. It was good to see that she was accepting that side of herself.

He grunted when he was hurled backwards by an invisible force to land hard on his ass. He lunged to his feet and charged back into the fray. He pushed back the strange sorrow and fear that tried to bubble up from inside him and focused on the fury he felt seeing his father in a slave pen.

Eventually, the rest of his friends joined him and Berchan to attack the mage. The strange bubble of fear popped as if it had never been there and the mage dropped down to his knees.

No! it couldn't end like this! Beaten by dog lords and their pets. "Enough! Enough!" Caladrius cried out. "It seems the reputation of Grey Wardens is an accurate one. I surrender."

"Perhaps you should be left to the tender mercy of those whom you enslaved?" Tayln bit out. This man was vile, but he was not the man that caused this to happen.

No…he would not die by the hand of any slave. "Wait! Hear me out, kind sir! Were I to…use the life force of the remaining slaves here, I could…augment your physical health a great deal! Allow me to leave this place alive and I would be more than happy to do this little service for you."

His hands curled into fists. He would not tell the mage these people are his family and friends. He would not put them at risk in such a way. "Do you think we carved our way through your men for my selfish ambitions? I came here to save these people not ensure their deaths!"

Caladrius looked up at the elf and it galled him to have to do that. "Then…I don't suppose you would consider just…uh… letting me go?"

Tayln blinked when the mage toppled over, ah arrow protruding from his eye. He looked over at Syn and quirked a brow.

The dwarf shrugged. "I got tired of listening to him."

Zevran grinned at the petite, beautiful woman that had captured his heart. "Is there any wonder that I love you so much?"

"Later, you two…open the slave pens and free the elves," Berchan barked.

Zevran chuckled. "I wouldn't dream of making them wait. Freedom before pleasure…unless you're into that sort of thing. Which…I could be," he teased as he picked the lock on one of the pens.

Tayln picked the lock on the pen that held his father.

Cyrion had been elated when he first saw his son step through the door. Then, worry choked him when the battle took place. Now, there was simply an aching relief. "My son…" he swallowed hard. "I didn't think I'd see you again. When they said all the Grey Wardens died at Ostagar, I prayed they were wrong. Are you all right? What are you even doing here? Not that I'm not thrilled to see you standing there."

He grasped his father's forearm and then pulled him in for a brief hug. "Most of us were killed at Ostagar. I will explain what happened there later. As to why we are here now, we came for the Landsmeet – but we heard troubling things about the Alienage. When I found out you and the others went missing, I had to do whatever it took to find you."

The older elf grinned. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. You're so much like your mother." He looked around and shuddered. "Come to the house. We can talk there…and there is something I should give you."

He pilfered the documents implicating Loghain from the dead mage's robes and led the others from the apartments. They ran into Shianni on the way back through the square. He chuckled when she pulled him into a rib-cracking hug. Or at least it would have been if he'd not had his armor on. "Careful, lest my armor crack your ribs."

"It would be worth it," Shianni beamed. "Tayln, you're amazing. Which, I shouldn't say to your face, because it'll go to your head. But it's true. What you and your friends did for us…." she cleared her throat. "Are you sticking around for a while? You're staying for dinner, aren't you? You'd better. I'll weasel a bottle or two of wine from Alarith and we can catch up. Your friends are welcome too, of course." She might not like shems, but those two had stood by her cousin and earned her respect.

"Tell me you are not cooking, Shianni?" Tayln teased.

She pursed her lips and grinned. "For that, I should make you my special Denerim-rabbit stew."

He choked and then bubbled over with laughter. "Not feeling up to eating rats tonight, dear cousin."

"Really?" Shiannia said with a belabored sigh. "You've been away too long if 'rabbits of the city' no longer sound delicious." A small giggle slipped past her lips and she gave up the charade of trying to keep a straight face.

"I promise you. As soon as we've set a new king's butt on the throne and defeated the Blight, I and…someone very special to me - if I can get her to agree to come, will join you and father for dinner."

"Ohhh…You are blushing, cousin! You're in love!" Shianni's grin spread from ear to ear. "I can't wait to meet her. You must tell me all about her…how you met…I'm so happy for you. I know you were never happy with the arranged marriage. But now…" she cleared her throat. "I'm babbling again. Tell us everything when you bring her to dinner. We'll get drunk and celebrate. Promise?"

Tayln held up his hands in surrender. "I promise, Shianni. I'll return as soon as I can." He hurried away before she could say anything else. He loved his cousin, even if she could be long-winded. He stepped back into his old home. Soris patted his back as he weaved his way through Tayln's friends and out the door.

"Let me get a good look at you! Why you – you've changed so much." His son's muscles were larger and more defined. He had a healthy glow to him. "Do the Wardens work you too hard? Not a bit of paddling left on you." It was apparent that his son had left boy and came back a man.

Tayln rubbed his still aching backside. "Yes, and the falls hurt more. I could stand a bit more padding." He grinned. "I've been training hard since I left. I've never felt better. Despite the Blight and the battles, I'm happy, father. I like what I'm doing and who I'm doing it with." He frowned at Berchan when the big man choked up.

Cyrion knelt over a trunk, opened it and withdrew the dagger. He unwound the protective cloth and rose to present it to his son. "I had this put away for…well, for a long time. I'd meant to give it to you as a wedding gift – but with everything that happened…" he held out the dagger on his palms. "You're mother's dagger. She called it 'Fang'. She would have wanted you to have it. I know you'll do great things. You already do. No father could be as proud of his son as I am of you, Tayln."

He knew his cheeks had to be red. He took the dagger from his father's hand and slid it under his belt. "Thank you, father. I promised Shianni I'd return after the rightful king has regained his throne and the Blight is defeated. We'll make up for lost time then. I'll tell you everything that I can."

"Wait, son. What rightful king are you talking about?"

Shianni stepped through the door and leaned against the wall, catching her uncle's words. King? She crossed her arms over her chest and waited. Staying quiet was one of the harder things she'd had to do.

"A noble with Theirin blood. His name is Kael Theirin. And he's not what you think. I've met a great deal of humans that aren't what we expect them to be. But Loghain is doing everything he can to destroy him and those that support him. Kael is the king Ferelden needs and I intend to help him take the throne."

The older elf frowned. "Be careful, son. Once this 'king' had the throne, he won't need you anymore."

Tayln shook his head. "Kael doesn't 'need' me now. He will take the throne with or without my help. He and the queen like me. He's not afraid to have elves for friends. They are not your typical nobles. Neither of them are. Not all humans are the same, father. Berchan is a noble and he married Lyrica," he said with a motion towards the large human and the dalish elf. Their wedding was sanctioned by the dalish, if you can believe. I'm in love with a human." He raised his hand to halt his father's tongue. "I know things won't be easy, but she's a strong woman that doesn't tend to give a damn what others think."

Morrigan chuckled and slipped her arm through Tayln's. "You know me so well, my love."

Shianni covered her mouth before she could squeal with delight and endless questions.

Tayln's lips spread into a slow grin. He'd been careful not to mention her name or put her on the spot. He shouldn't have been surprised that she'd claim him in front of others, but he was, despite his words he'd just spoken to his father. She tended not to be a demonstrative woman…er…much of the time. Then again…she was getting oh so much better. He shook his head, bemused.

Cyrion looked up at the dark-haired, amber-eyed mage. "This is the human you have given your heart to?" His son slipped an arm around the human's waste. "I can see that it is. Are you willing to bind yourself to an elf?"

Morrigan's back stiffened in indignation. "I am not a demon to be bound to anyone! Why-"

"He means marriage, Morrigan," Tayln told her, biting his cheek to keep from grinning over the misunderstanding.

"Then why did he simply not say such?" she groused, even as heat stole into her cheeks.

She was so beautiful when her skin was flushed with color. He usually only saw it when they were making love, so seldom did she become embarrassed. "Father, this is Morrigan – Morrigan this is my father, Cyrion Tabris. Father, we have been far too busy dealing with the present to talk much of the future. She is the keeper of my heart. I would take her to wife, if she'd have me, of course. But we have not had time to discuss such matters." He had not intended to push her on their future. Leave it to his father to put her on the spot.

Cyrion's gaze swept from the human to his son and shook his head. "Maybe it is better to leave things as they are. You could play her servant if you had to. It would take more courage than most are capable of to handle the ridicule and danger inherent in a human wedding an elf. Yes…yes, it is better this way. There is no need for either of you to try to face the anger of human and elf alike. Complying is safer than change."

Tayln's eyes narrowed on his father in warning. What was the old man up to? His father couldn't possibly want him to marry a human. Humans killed his wife, hurt Angelia, sold their people into slavery. His father's challenging words made no sense. Unless...his father respected Morrigan for helping to free their people from slavers…or maybe he just wanted his son to marry someone he loved. His former betrothed had already wed another.

She drew her shoulders back and took a step forward. "No one will tell me what I can or cannot do. No one will tell me who I am allowed to spend my life with! I will wed Tayln, whether you accept it or no!"

Cyrion nodded grimly and bit back a smile. "Soris," he said to his nephew that just walked in. "Get Mother Lucinda and let her know of the wedding. She'll handle things with the chantry. Shianni take Morrigan to the women folk to make ready for the wedding."

The bouncing, bubbly elf took Morrigan's arm and led her away. "What are you doing? Where are you taking me?" she asked as she was led out the door behind Soris.

Berchan burst out laughing. "That was devious of you Mr. Tabris! And so much fun to watch."

The older elf held up his hand. While he appreciated the respect from the human nobleman, it wasn't necessary. "Call me Cyrion, please. You helped save my people, there is no need for lingering formality. Now, if you two ladies will step outside and join the other women, we will get my son prepared for his wedding." When the two women left, he looked at the others. "After what happened with my son's first wedding ceremony, we no longer give notice of pending marriages. Mother Lucinda has helped us wed privately ever since."

"Father, you know we have little time to spare…"

"I also know that I may not see my son again – or I may not see him for years. Your life may be a difficult one, but I want to see you wed. Not many get the chance to marry for love. Your wedding clothes are in your trunk."

After he was dressed in clothing he never thought he'd wear again, he couldn't stop a small shiver from racing down his spine. Would wearing the same clothes he'd worn at his first wedding ruin this one? No. That was superstitious nonsense. This wedding was nothing like -

Cyrion tapped his son's shoulder, took his hand and turned it palm up. He settled a ring onto his son's palm. "It is your mother's wedding ring. It should...uh…fit on your bride's small finger," he said as he wiggled his pinkie finger.

He was trembling and pacing by the time word reached them that they'd finished tailoring a dress for Morrigan. Perhaps, a small part of him was worried that his bride would say or do something to offend his people. She didn't like being pawed at and the women of the Alienage were good at pawing and fawning and cooing.

His nerves didn't settle until he saw her standing up on the wooden platform next to Mother Lucinda and two sisters in a dress that swirled around her and a golden flower in her hair.

The ceremony was short, so as not to draw any undue attention, but memorable. Tayln doubted anyone in the village would ever forget the day one of their own wed a shem in the middle of their village. After the wedding, Morrigan wasted no time removing the dress and getting back into the armor Lorianna had given her to wear. Afterall, she did not wish to soil the beautiful dress the women had worked so hard on. The celebration could still be heard after they left towards nightfall to return to the Wulff Estate.

Tayln never would have thought by returning home that he'd leave with a wife and evidence of Loghain's treachery.

-Rescuing Anora-

(Bethany, ser Gilmore, Kyrian and Starlynn)

Kyrian eyed the uniforms Erlina had supplied them with. "Are you sure this is going to work?" He now wished he'd have told his parents what he was up to incase anything happened to him. No, his mother and sisters would know if he was in trouble or in pain. He'd made the right choice. His parents would have insisted he bring guards. It would be hard enough with the four of them getting through the estate. Any more, and they would be pushing their luck.

"It is the only way, my Lord," Erlina insisted. "If we wait…if we seek aid, then Howe would likely kill her and hide all evidence that she was even there." She turned to look back at the servant's entrance door. "I'll go distract the guards."

"Why?" Gilmore asked. "Isn't that what these uniforms are for?"

"Those two," Erlina replied with a motion of her head towards the guards, "know who is allowed to come and go. They will not be fooled. But the uniforms should work on most of guards within. Now, we cannot wait any longer, Ser, my Lord. Please wait in the bushes. I will lure the guards into the courtyard."

Garrett ran up to the small group. "I tried to catch up – but my legs only move so fast."

Well this was unexpected. "I wasn't expecting you?" Kyrian replied with a questioning tilt of his head.

"What can I say? I like to do the unexpected. Look, I know she's close to Kael and Lor and I want to do my part to help," Garret told them.

Erlina frowned down at the handsome dwarf. "I don't have any guard armor for you…and we-"

The dwarf held up his hand. "I can help with the distraction."

"What do you mean? We can't afford to waste any more time. The queen is in danger!" the elf cried out.

Garrett pulled a bulging skin from his belt and poured the contents all over his head and chest.

Gilmore waved his hand in front of his face. "Now you smell like Oghren . I doubt you'd play the drunk as well as him though."

"I've more in mind than just acting drunk." He ran over to the garden and dove into the soft dirt, rolling around until he was well covered in mud, a few twigs standing out for added effect. He walked back over to the group and held his arms out wide. "I might get mistaken for a darkspawn in the shadows. Where do you want me?"

Oh, this was working out better than she'd hoped. "On the far side of the fountain," Erlina told him. She made a shooing motion to the four humans and hurried away.

"Ooh…intrigue…and we are not even in Orlais," Starlynn murmured as she slipped behind the bushes and crouched down.

"What's Orlais like?" Bethany whispered.

Starlynn grinned. "It's like a pompous, festival glamour over a back-alley cesspool."

Bethany's brows rose in surprise. She'd heard so many wild tales and thought Orlais was dashing and romantic with a hint of intrigue. But now she wasn't so sure if she wanted to go.

"Look," Kyrian motioning towards the elf who was running up to the guards.

"Oh! You must come! I saw something!" She raised her hand to her chest trying to catch her breath. "By the fountain! I think it was a darkspawn!"

"Darkspawn?" the guard scoffed.

Her shaky hand rose to her mouth. "They will drag us all underground to be eaten!" she wailed.

The guard named Ernesto turned towards his partner. "Should be call for help?"

Bertal could not believe the words that he'd just heard. "Did you fall off a cart of stupid? Call for help? So they can see us act like scared little girls because of some knife-eared wench?"

She took a step back and then another, her body shaking. "They will eat us all alive! Please! Get help!"

Ernesto sighed and looked over at Bert. "If there is something out there and we don't' sound the alarm, we'll look worse than scared."

Bertal rolled his eyes. He didn't like leaving his post for a hysterical elf. But if something was wrong… "Andraste's holy knickers! Fine! We'll check the courtyard, if it'll keep you from wetting yourself. But there's nothing there."

"Thank you! Oh! It was over here!" She motioned with her hand for them to follow her. "Quickly!" She let them towards the fountain and saw something dark make a jerky movement. "Did you see that? Look over there!"

Bertal nodded to Ernesto. "Stay out of the way, wench. We'll take a closer look."

She smiled when their backs were towards her and turned and ran back to the servant's entrance. She, at least, wouldn't draw any undue attention. She slipped through the door and caught up with the rescue party. "They are chasing down Garrett. Forget about them. You must be careful now. The servants, they will not look closely at anyone in uniform. All guards are alike to a cook, no? But you should not draw attention to yourselves. Most of the guards are new. They will not know you for a stranger at a glance. It is best to keep your distance from them and try to blend in."

"Where's Anora?" Kyrian inquired.

"She's in a guest room off the main hall." Erlina motioned in the direction they would need to go.

"Where's Rendon Howe?" Starlynn needed to find him. He had to pay for what he'd done to her family.

"I don't know, but he will be well guarded. I beg you, do not risk the queen's life over your revenge." Erlina crossed her arms over her chest. "I know what she is willing to give up for you. What are you willing to give up for her?"

Starlynn squared her shoulders. "I would never risk Anora's life."

The elf relaxed. "I did not mean to doubt you, my Lady. My worry is great. May Andraste guide us."

The exited the hall into the kitchen, where they learned the staff thought she was just under the weather and chose to stay in her room. It was obvious no one that would talk was allowed near her. And servants were good at both talking and knowing things.

They continued through dining hall and out the far end.

"For all we know, it's not mutton. Howe's too cheap to buy it. Cook's probably roasting the elves that broke in here," the guard teased his friend.

"You realize that doesn't help, right? Ugh…I'll never drink that much again…" groaned the guard's friend.

Their banter faded from hearing when they turned the corner into another hall and took a left through the only door available to them. This appeared to be an easy room, guards were relaxing – one group playing cards. As they slipped out of the room, they heard the men discussing what happened at Redcliffe. A frightened child trying to save his father from Loghain's poison. Loghain had much to answer for. Next, were the kennels and barracks. With luck, they'd be able to rescue Anora without having to bring every guard in the estate down on their heads.

Erlina sped up. "We are close – this way."

They let the elf take the lead, well, let might be a strong word, but they followed her around the corner and to a door that glowed with a magical shield.

"We are here, my Lady," Erlina told the door.

"Who are 'we', Erlina?" Anora asked briskly. She was sorely tired of being locked in this room waiting for Howe to kill her.

"It is I, Starlynn Cousland, my husband Kyrian Wulff, the Grey Warden Ser Gilmore and Bethany Hawke,"

"Thank the Maker!" Erlina came through for her. The Couslands and the Wulffs were like family to her. She grimaced at the thought. Better than family, if her father was okay with Howe locking her away. "I would greet you properly, but I'm afraid we've had …a setback."

Starlynn glanced at Bethany. "Magic. So, locking you up wasn't good enough."

"Apparently not. And Lor failed to teach me how to escape from magically sealed doors. We shall have a talk about that when I get out," she teased.

Kyrian chucked. It would appear Anora was taking everything rather well. "That was very remiss of my sister. I shall blister her ears most soundly on your behalf, Anora."

Anora's lips twitched. As if anyone could have prepared her for this. "See that you do. But until then, find the mage who cast the spell. He'll most likely be at Howe's side."

A grin spread over Starlynn's lips. "Then that is where we need to be."

"Starlynn? Kyrian? Don't do anything stupid. If anything happened to either of you…" Anora swallowed hard. She'd never forgive herself.

"We'll be fine," Kyrian assured her and then turned to look at the two mages. "Can either of you break this spell?"

"No – we dare not even try," Bethany told him. "It is a complex spell and if we counter it with the wrong spell…" she shook her head. "I'd prefer to leave the estate in one piece – less loss of life that way."

"Right, then. Kill the mage – kill the spell. Much better idea," Gilmore agreed. And Howe…he wanted to end Howe as much as Starlynn and Kyrian did. He lost a lot of friends that night and his best friend lost his parents.

Erlina tore her eyes off the door and looked up into Kyrian's blue eyes. "Teyrn Howe will probably be in his rooms." She lifted her arm and pointed. "They're at the end of the hall, the last door on the left."

Teyrn Howe? Kyrian flinched, his hands curling into fists, but he kept his tone mild. His wife's red face told him just how she had taken those words. "Rendon Howe has not, nor has he ever been, a Teyrn. He can lie to himself all he wants, but Anora never would have given my wife's family's Teyrnir over to him."

"He's right, Erlina – I did not," Anora cut in quickly. "And soon…he will not even be an Arl. Though I suppose, he will not be among the living soon either. My prayers are with you. All of you."

He placed a hand at his wife's back and gently prodded her forward. Though, understandable, exploding in righteous fury on a servant that had to call Howe whatever he wanted her to call him would help no one. "We will find him and he will pay. This I promise you," he murmured softly.

"I will make him pay – he's mine, Kyrian." Her words were little more than a seething growl.

"He's ours, Star…we're a team. Never forget that I shall always have your back, my love. It is, however, your right to confront the traitorous snake."

"Oily ass-weasel," she grumbled.

"Truer words, my Lady," Gilmore could not agree more. He could also acknowledge it was Starlynn's right to make the killing blow, for Howe had wronged her the most. But he would still get to watch the man fall. It could never make up for what the man had done – but it would start the healing.

The door on the left led to the Arl's sitting room. Kyrian wondered who would be the next Arl of Denerim. Whomever it was had to be better than the dead Arl and the man who stole the Arling. The sitting room led to a very large bedroom. Still, no Howe. Would it have been too much to hope that he was found asleep in bed? No, better this way. He wanted the man to see his death coming. He wanted to see the terror of that knowledge in his eyes. "Look through any chests or cabinets – see if we can find any incriminating evidence."

They searched quickly and quietly. It was his wife that found something interesting.

"It would appear the scroll is Grey Warden in nature." Starlynn handed the scroll over to Ser Glimore. "Since you are the only Grey Warden here, they belong in your hands."

He inclined his head. "Thank you, my Lady. I shall protect them with my life," he tied the scroll pouch to his belt. "Perhaps, we will find our weasel through that door."

"Ass-weasel," Starlynn corrected.

He laughed softly and bowed. "As you say, my Lady. I stand corrected. Ass-weasel, then."

Starlynn winked at Bethany and patted Gilmore's armored forearm. "Much better, Gilmore -you are learning."

"Oh, he has learned a great many things," Bethany said softly.

If it wasn't for the mischievous gleam in the other mage's eyes, Starlynn might have been fooled by the innocent expression on her face. Gilmore's face, however, was so red it told a far different tale. "It would appear that you are embarrassing your husband, Beth."

Bethany shrugged, but her lips widened. "Perhaps, he will put me in my proper place tonight."

"The kitchen?" Starlynn teased.

Bethany giggled. "Well…the table has merit, provided the servants are all abed."

Gilmore choked, unable to take any more of their banter. "Ladies…please. Shall we focus on the task at hand. Howe and…the…mage…" his voice trailed off when another voice interrupted his.

The guard turned to see who entered the door. "Who goes there?" In a blink, he was yanked back against the cold bite of the cell door. His feet scrabbled for purchase on the stones until a muscled arm cut off his air supply. His hands rose to pull the arm away.

Kyrian watched the display. "You know, he should really go for the dirk at his side. But they rarely do the intelligent thing," he commented softly, motioning towards the struggling guard. "If he'd stab the prisoner, he'd likely survive."

"True," Gilmore agreed. "I suppose the fear of imminent death could cause one to lose all sense of reason."

They watched as another hand reached through the bars and the guard's neck was snapped with a grotesque cracking noise.

Bethany shuddered. "I do hate the sound of bones breaking."

They continued to watch the show as a hand slipped through the lower bars to remove a ring of keys from the guard's belt. The door clicked and the guard was pulled through. "This has been entertaining. I wonder who the prisoner turns out to be," Starlynn quipped. She heard the sound of swords sliding from their scabbards. "Surely, that won't be necessary. If we do not attack him, why would the prisoner attack us?"

"Because of what we are wearing, my love. We look as any other of Howe's soldiers. Kindly remember that," Gilmore chided.

They heard the rattle of armor. It was obvious the prisoner was stripping the guard for his armor.

Riordan fastened the last piece of armor and stepped through the door. "I thank you for creating such distraction, stranger. I have been waiting for days for the opportunity. Do you think you could -" He could feel the slightest bit of taint in one of the four before him. "You…you are a Grey Warden?"

Gilmore blinked in surprise. How could anyone know that? "That would be treasonous in Fereldon right now. I do not think any-"

Riordan held up his hand. "You have a friend in me, fellow Warden," he said with a slight bow. "I'm Riordan, senior Warden of Jader, but born and bred in Highever and glad to be home. Mostly…" he amended as he looked around the prison.

"Does that mean there are more of you here?" Kyrian asked. If so, then this was something Kael needed to know right away.

He eyed the young man with the noble bearing. "We had two hundred Wardens and two dozen divisions of cavalry. The first we heard of Loghain's edict was when everyone was turned back at the border. That was when the rumor reached us that Wardens were being blamed for the massacre at Ostagar. We finally decided it was safest to send someone alone, to learn how best to fight the Blight and the regime simultaneously. As a native Ferelden, I volunteered to make the crossing."

One man would have had a better chance sneaking through, Kyrian mused, so what happened? "How did Howe capture you?"

Riordan's lips tightened in anger. "With an offer of hospitality and a poisoned chalice. I was fool enough to think Loghain didn't yet know who I was."

Gilmore pulled out the scroll. "I assume this is yours, then?" He held the Grey Warden scroll out to the senior Warden.

"Yes. These are my records. The names of the dead I could recognize at Ostagar and what I could find of the Warden's recruitment records. Copies of the Joining ritual I rescued from our Denerim vault. Those should never be seen by outside eyes, but I trust in their encryption.

"Does that mean you can induct new Wardens? There are only a handful of us in Ferelden," Gilmore explained.

Riordan was stunned by that bit of news. "A handful? We had not expected that more than one or two survived Ostagar."

"Barely…" Gilmore grumbled. "But we are new recruits. Talented in the way of fighting, but we know little about being a Grey Warden – there simply wasn't any time. Alistair is the senior Warden - or was until you showed up."

"Alistair – then he is alive. That is good news. I was at his Joining. It will be good to see him again. As for the Joining Ritual…would that I could, for Ferelden sorely needs them." He eyed the others with the Grey Warden.

Gilmore could see the man wanted to say more. "I trust them with my life as a man and as a Grey Warden. This is my wife, Bethany. My brother at arms, Kyrian Wulff and his wife Starlynn Cousland-Wulff. Starlynn is sister to the rightful King of Ferelden, Kael Bryce Theirin. We stand with him and his wife, Lorianna Wulff, to unite Ferelden under his banner and to defeat the Blight. They will hopefully be arriving to Denerim soon, for the Landsmeet. Please, speak freely. We are among friends, Riordan."

Kyrina grinned. He could feel his sister and Kael nearby. In fact, he could feel the rest of his surviving family nearby. "You should know, Kael and Lor have recently arrived with their army. They are the hope Ferelden needs. I have little doubt they are getting ready for the Landsmeet, as we speak. They will stand with the Grey Wardens."

A harsh breath slipped from Riordan's lips. Then the fall of Loghain was imminent. From what he'd heard the Landsmeet was scheduled to convene in less than a fortnight. That would certainly explain why the Landsmeet was called. "Normally, an outsider would never be privy to this, but there are things you must understand. For the Joining to work, the recruit needs not only fresh darkspawn blood, but a drop of blood preserved from an archdemon. Ferelden's supply should have been in the vault, but it was gone. I can only imagine Loghian either confiscated it or destroyed it. As you know, the Joining's chance of success is…not guaranteed. Loghain has done far worse to the Wardens than cut us off from recruiting. But perhaps that will change when Loghian is removed from the throne."

"It will," Starlynn's words were laced with finality. "My brother does not share Loghain's fears of Orlais and the Wardens. He will unite Ferelden's peoples like they have never been united before. It is time to put the past behind us. I must do so as well. Have you seen Rendon Howe?"

Her words gave him hope. He motioned towards the door across from his old cell. "I saw him go into the dungeons. I have not seen him return, so he is likely still there."

"Thank you, Riordan. Find your way to the Arl Eamon's estate. My brother and Lor would be arriving with him and I doubt my brother would be any more willing to open the Cousland estate than I was. You will be welcomed at Eamon's."

Riordan bowed. "I will, my Lady. Thank you for your generous offer." He turned to Ser Gilmore. "I will meet you at Arl Eamon's then. We will talk more at that time. And good luck…Brother."

Starlynn rolled her shoulders as Riordan disappeared from view. "I need to lighten the load a bit." She unbuckled the metal armor that adorned one arm completely and removed the gauntlet from her other arm. Then she unbuckled the four metal plates that hung down from her hips that protected her thighs. She rolled her shoulders again. "Much better. At least now I will be able to move." She grinned when she noticed Bethany was removing her own metal plates. "Now, let's find Howe and that mage - and give them our regards."

Kyrian didn't like the fact that his wife was now more exposed and a glance in Gilmore's direction showed the Warden was no more appreciative than he was. But he knew better than to say anything. He had faith that his wife knew what she was doing.

The stone ramp descended to another door. They stepped through and were greeted by a guard. A guard with two friends at his back.

"What are you doing here?" the guard demanded. "No other guards were to come down here. Anybody tries to come in here without Howe's say so, we get to do what we like with 'em. I think we finally got a bit of entertainment here, lads!"

When the three men charged them, Bethany swung her staff and clubbed one upside the head. His helmet caved and blood trickled down his neck as he stumbled backwards. She cast a spell to freeze him in place. "Couldn't you have just wiggled your fingers and made them walk away?"

"Where is the fun in that?" Kyrian teased as his sword clashed with a guard's and sent a shockwave up both their arms. He could swear he felt his teeth rattle. He dropped down swiped his foot out and the guard fell hard on his back. The guard's eyes widened in terror as Kyrian's sword came down. Kyrian tried not to wonder if these men believed in Howe or if he was just a paycheck to feed their families. Sometimes, it was better off not knowing what drove a man. It helped him sleep better at nights. "I cannot know how many men are down here. It is likely I would lose control of the first soldiers and they would flank us."

Six more guards rushed in while they were fighting the two that remained in here.

"Hot!" Bethany shouted.

"Cold!" Starlynn replied back.

"Storm!" They said together.

Kyrian blasted the men backwards with a burst of power and then raised his arm to wrap them in a bubble of protection just as the combined spells clashed and a storm shook the stone beneath them as it whirled through the chamber and down the hall. The guards slid and fell on ice, even as they burst into flames. Lightning struck randomly as the two temperature extremes continued to collide. The screams were horrifying but blessedly brief.

When the winds stopped buffeting the shield, he released the energy. Not a guard moved, the smell of roasted flesh made his belly clench in agitation.

Bethany waved her hand in front of her face, trying to alleviate the smell that nearly brought her to her knees. "Remind me not to do that indoors again. I'm not sure I'll be able to eat for a week," she grumbled.

"We should find out the extent of the damage that was done," Starlynn responded quietly. After the spells were cast, she regretted it, but there was nothing she could do to call off the spell, it had to run its course.

-BREAK FIVE-

They left the chamber and continued down the hall, with only the creak of their armor being heard. Each in their own thoughts as they stepped around the charred bodies that lined the hall. Past the next archway was a door on the left that required a key. Kyrian tried to pick it by using his power to pressure the tumblers, but it did not give. With a frustrated swipe of his hand he led them to the only remaining door. There was no sign of the storm's damage beyond the door. The corridor went straight and then veered to the left, where a guard's eyes opened in surprise when he all but walked into the unsuspecting man. Being too close to draw his sword, he pulled the lightsaber from his belt, pressed it to the man's middle and flipped the switch buried in the hilt to ignite it. He slid the blade from one side to the other and the guard's mouth fell open as his top half fell from its perch on his lower half.

The guard blinked in dawning horror as he watched his legs tremble and buckle, falling in a heap next to him. He looked down to where is belly abruptly ended and then up into the man's eyes that had killed him. "Please…don't…don't leave me like this."

Kyrian slashed the glowing pale blue blade across the man's neck and severed his head from his body. The guard's head rolled to the side. His eyes blinked once, then no more. "That," Kyrian said with a shudder, "was not what I expected." Though, it made sense. The man's wounds were cauterized. He wasn't bleeding out. His heart still pumped blood. Death might have been a slow starvation if infection didn't set in. "I will be quicker next time."

Kryian felt no lifesigns through the door on the right so they continued down the corridor, which T'd off to the right. Lifesigns could be felt behind two doors, so he took the one to the right first. Two guards and four mabari – this was another one of the dungeon's kennels then. Likely the next door would also be a kennel. As it turned out, he was wrong. Five guards and a mage were in the next room. Two mages were no match for one, and his mage had the bite of twin daggers to hit the mage where he was most vulnerable – up close.

Back in the hall, he came to a stop at a door on the left. "Here – I feel suffering." He charged through with a battlecry to draw the attention away from whomever was being hurt.

"Kyrian!" Starlynn growled in frustration and pushed herself faster to catch up with her lone-Wulff of a husband. As she stepped through the door, her arm rose to protect her face as a powerful burst of energy propelled the guards away from husband. Two of the guards hit the stone wall with a grisly crunch and did not get back up.

She turned her head from the platform covered in remains of brutalized and dismembered bodies. She did not even want to think about what went on in this room. Instead, she focused on the guard that rushed her. She moved to the side to allow room for Ser Gilmore and Bethany to join them. Her daggers glowed with the magic that coursed through the metal.

When the last man fell, Kyrian wiped his blade off and sheathed it as he turned towards the source the pain that he'd felt. A man in a loin cloth lie tied on a racking table.

"Don't leave me here! Get me out of here! That's an order!" The man on the table barked out in a dry, raspy voice.

"I'm not one of your men and I do not take orders from you," Kyrian replied as he settled his hands on the man's bare torso and sent a wave of healing energy into him. "But I will release you, since the only men I would wish to see on this table are Howe or Loghain."

The man groaned as he slowly sat up and tested his sore muscles. The pain was dramatically less than it had been. Perhaps the warmth he felt was healing, but the man before him spoke no spells or showed signs of flashy magic. He swung his legs off the table and rose to a stand. While his legs trembled, they held his weight. "Was this supposed to be a lesson? Did my father think it funny to leave me for so long before sending you?"

"Unless we share the same father, then I can I tell you that your father did not send me." Kyrian folded his arms over his chest. "While we are both blonde, you do not resemble me."

"No," Starlynn replied. "But he does resemble Ban Sighard."

Kyrian cut his gaze to his wife. "I thought he looked familiar."

"So, my father did not send you. I wonder if he even knows I'm missing." He gripped his left shoulder and rolled it, trying to ease the stiffness. "I'm Oswyn, son of Bann Sighard, of the Dragons Peak Bannorn. Please forgive me, I know I should know two of you, but I am not myself right now."

"Of course. Well met, Oswyn. I am Kyrian Wulff, son of Gallagher Wulff, of the West Hills Arling. This is my wife, Starlynn Cousland-Wulff, daughter of Bryce Cousland, of the Teynir of Highever. And this is Ser Gilmore, formerly of Cousland Castle and his wife, Bethany Hawke."

Oswyn bowed stiffly, but it was the best he could do. "You have my gratitude…and I am sorry for your loss, my Lady. I was unaware any of the Cousland's survived the attack."

"Barely," she said quietly. "I've yet to hear of Fergus, but Kael and I yet live."

"Then you are here for Howe?"

"It's a bit more complicated than that," Kyrian admitted. "The queen is a close family friend and she sent her handmaid to my parent's estate for help when Howe locked her up here at the castle. We were looking for Howe and the mage that sealed her door when we found you."

"The queen was…how far will Howe go? Was she taken because of the Landsmeet? But why? That makes no sense." Oswyn rubbed his forehead.

"Anora questioned some of her father's claims. I think her father also seeks to keep her away from my brother-in-law, Kael and his wife, Lor. They are very close. And Kael is a Theirin by blood and intends to claim his throne. If Anora was to renounce her claim…you can see where this is going."

Oswyn took an unsteady step backwards and bumped the table he'd been racked on. "Kael Cousland is Maric's bastard? I- I cannot believe it. And now I cannot un-see the resemblance. Were we all so blind?" He shook his head. "Then you are here for the Landsmeet – to end Loghain's regime. Loghain may be a hero, but it's a Theirin Ferelden's people will want to see on the throne. There is no greater threat to Loghain than Kael Theirin."

"Now you see," Kyrian said with an incline of his head. "Anora will side with us and while we do not need her to take the throne, her opinion will sway some of Loghain's supporters."

"Indeed. Again, you have my heartfelt gratitude and, I assume, the gratitude of the entire Dragon's Breath Bannorn. If my father sent no one after me, I can only assume that he does not yet know the true colors of the snakes he has allied with. When I return, I will let him know what Loghain and Howe have done to me. I am sure he will wish to thank you himself and offer you any reward you might wish."

He waved his hand negligibly. "We did not rescue you for a reward. We wish only to unite Ferelden, defeat the Blight and work together to help Ferelden recover."

"My husband is right; we do no seek any reward. But, if you do not mind me asking, how did Howe capture you?" Starlynn inquired.

"One soldier returning from Ostagar was my wet-nurse's son. We have been friends since birth. He told me his unit was ordered to turn their backs on Cailan at Ostagar…before the darkspawn overwhelmed him. The next day, he disappeared. When I went to search for him…I accepted a drink from a stranger and ended up here."

"One way or another, Loghain will pay for what he's done to Ferelden," he promised the nobleman.

"If anyone can bring Loghain down, it will be a Theirin. But I swear, my father will speak out against Loghain at the Landsmeet. Now, please, my Lord, I must try to get to my father. I…I cannot see the last of this place too soon."

Kyrian inclined his head. "Turn right from here. We've already cleared out the guards. You can strip one of these for their armor. Safe journey to you, Oswyn."

They left the nobleman to dress and turned left from out of the dungeon. "Here," Kyrian motioned to a door on his right. "There is something …confusion…it is disorienting." He flung the door open to find seven guards who scrambled to grab their weapons.

After the room was cleared, Kyrian followed the sense of confusion to a prison cell. He probed the door's lock with his mind. It was a simple lock. With a pop, the door swung open.

"That is an amazing talent you have, Kyrian…for a thief," Gilmore teased.

"I would never…sure…I'll remember you said that." He turned to study the man that had been locked away. He wore nothing but his smallclothes, his body bent, his mind scattered. "Are you okay?" he asked cautiously.

"They said to retreat. The horn sounded and we turned and then the screams…We rode and they screamed and screamed and -" he gripped his head and wailed out his torment.

Gilmore stepped forward. "Retreat? Screams? Were you at Ostagar?"

He cringed and wavered on his feet. "Mother, can you smell the blood? They said it was only darkspawn, but we ate them too." His body twitched and spasmed. "They died and we left them. In the swamp. The witch. The witch!"

Kyrian shook his head sadly. "I can only assume he means Flemeth, if he's talking about a witch in the swamp. Perhaps he and his friends got separated from Loghain's army and ended up surviving by eating darkspawn, but there's no way to know for sure, not with him in this state."

"Do you think he's a danger to anyone?" Gilmore asked, uncertain what they should even do with him.

"No more dangerous than any man, likely less so. His thoughts are scattered. I do not think he could defend himself if he wanted to." He turned to the sick man. "Try to get somewhere safe."

"Safe? Is there a safe? Perhaps next door…"

While he left, they quickly checked the other cells, but they were empty. They exited the chamber and turned right at the main hall. They passed by a door that held no lifesigns and then turned left to continue following the hall. He pulled up sharply at a door on his right and froze. Here. He took his wife's arm. "We've found him. It is time." He let go of his wife and nodded to the others before he opened the door.

Rendon turned when he heard the door open. So, he was being invaded. His men may have failed in killing all the Cousland brats when they attacked the castle. It would seem fate had given him the chance to rectify that. "Well, well. Bryce Cousland's little spitfire, all grown up and still playing the man. Along with a little Wulff cub panting at her feet. I never thought you'd be fool enough to turn up here. But then I never thought you'd live, either."

"Like a snake in the grass you struck my father when his back was turned. My father stood by your side and defended your honor and you stab him in the back for it!"

"Your father was a traitor to me and a coward to his nation! Trips to Orlais, gifts from old enemies, all while I sank into obscurity. Your family squandered glory that was rightfully mine. How suitable that their deaths should raise me to the ear of a king."

"Rightfully yours?" She seethed. "No one stole your glory, Rendon! You fell in battle – you couldn't keep fighting. It was rotten luck, not stolen glory. And as for Highever…The Teyrnir of Highever was never yours – it was never going to be yours – and it never will be. It is under Cousland control once more. Until Fergus can be found, I am the Teyrna of Highever."

Howe smirked. "And not your brother, Kael?" The loss of the Teyrnir rankled. But Loghain would see that he got it back – or he would…after he dealt with the sniveling offspring.

"Kael is king and you have lost everything!" She taunted.

"And there is it. Right there. That damned look in the eye that marked every Cousland success that held me back." He clapped slowly. "It would appear that you have made something of yourself after all. Your father would be most proud. I, on the other hand, want you and your bastard brother dead now more than ever!" He pulled his weapons and charged the little bitch that thought she was better than him.

"The killing blow is mine!" Starlynn yelled as she and Bethany warded their husbands and charged the two mages. Mages were always caught off guard when she and Bethany attacked with both weapons and magic. The men kept the guards distracted by jumping randomly from guard to guard long enough for them to bring the rival mages down.

One by one the guards fell until Howe fought alone. Not once did he consider surrendering. He had no intension of dying a coward. No mercy, no quarter. It was the way he fought and he expected no less in return. But it was more than that. They would not defeat him because it was his turn to have it all – he deserved it. He felt the cold bite of steel slip between his ribs and he fought on, knowing he would prevail. His feet slipped out from under him and he fell to the hard stone. His breath came in harsh pants and he looked down at the growing puddle of blood. His? Theirs? He clutched his chest when a sharp pain made him gasp. Breath caught in his throat and he coughed until he nearly fell over on his face, his elbow having caught him. He pulled his hand away, wet with blood. So, this was how it ended.

He convulsed with another round of racking coughs and inhaled a rattling, wet breath as he looked up Bryce's little brat. "Maker spit on you…I deserved…more…"

Starlynn held her hand out. "Hand me your lightsaber."

Kyrian flipped the internal switch and carefully handed it to his wife.

She crouched down next to Howe, knowing he was slowly drowning in his own blood. "I want nothing more than to leave you to die slowly, but I am not like you. May the Maker have mercy on your soul." She rose and plunged the lightsaber straight down through his leather armor and into his little, black heart. The blade extinguished and she handed the hilt back to her husband. "Thank you," she said numbly as she walked slowly towards the door. His death hadn't brought her family back, it hadn't found her lost older brother, it only closed a chapter of her life. But her heart went out to Howe's children, for she had left them without parents too. Thus, she felt the weight of Howe's death in a way she'd not anticipated.

"Star, wait – there is someone behind that door. Deep, mental anguish."

Starlynn nodded at her husband and rejoined the group so they could see what was behind the far chamber door. More prison cells. The first one was empty, but the sounds of a man praying led them to the second.

"Maker have mercy on Your faithful servant. Grant me a place at Your side. Grant me the cleansing flames."

A man in his smallclothes knelt on the stone floor of the jail cell. Kyrian stepped forward and used his power to unlock the cell. The man rose to his feet and took a step back. "Andraste, Bride of the Maker, have mercy on me."

"We are not Howe's men, despite our appearance and we are not here to hurt you," Kyrian assured him.

"Alfstanna…is that you, little sister?" he asked Bethany. He squeezed his eyes tight and shook his head before taking another look. "No…I don't know you…do I? Are you real?"

This man was acting disoriented like the other they'd found, but he otherwise seemed fine and not infected with Blight poison. "Are you all right?"

"Alfstanna?" He rubbed his forehead trying to concentrate. "I…don't know. Where is my sister? Have you seen her? I – I'm Irminric, knight-lieutenant of the Denerim chantry. You said you aren't the Teyrn's men?"

"Lyrium," Starlynn blurted out. "Templars take lyrium to help them fight mages. He must be in withdrawal. The book I read talked about the confusion, amongst other things."

Gilmore winced. "When the chantry finds out what Howe and Loghain did to him…"

Irminric moaned. "I failed in my duties. Maker, forgive me. I failed, and there no telling what he's done…Alfstanna is…a far better bann than I would have been…but I…don't remember how I came to be here…"

"What who's done," Kyriana asked, trying to keep the templar on track.

"The malificar. He had turned blood magic upon templars and Circle mages to escape from the tower. Near Redcliffe, I cornered him. But the teyrn's men took him from me…and brought me here…

"Jowan…" Gilmore said with a nod. Now it made sense. That was how Jowan was taken into the teyrn's custody and why the templar could not be let go. Loghain wanted nothing to tie him to the bloodmage he sent after Arl Eamon.

"Yes. He…destroyed his phylactery…we were spread out, trying to find him…I was alone. I…you are real, aren't you? My dreams are…so strange now. Please, if you're not a dream, then I beg you to help me," Irminric implored them.

"The door is open, Irminric, you're free to go – take the armor from a guard and leave," Kyrian explained, with a sweep of his hand towards the dungeon door.

Irminric shook his head slowly. "No one can free me from failure, save blessed Andraste."

He pursed his lips and then sighed. "Then what would you have us do?"

The templar pulled the ring from his finger and held it out to Kyrian. "Give this ring…to my sister, Alfstanna. Tell her…tell her I'm sorry. Please. Ask her…to pray for me." He knelt back down onto the hard floor and began his prayers again, as if he'd never been interrupted. "Lady of Perpetual Sorrows, pray for me…"

Kyrian motioned his arm towards the door. "We should leave. If he cannot leave on his own, then he is safer here than with us in his condition."

They returned back the way they'd come, meeting up with Erlina at Anora's locked door. Kyrian used the key he'd taken from Howe's corpse and unlocked the door. He grinned when he saw Anora. "It would seem you already planned on a get-away," he teased when he saw her dressed in Denerim estate armor.

"Thank you, Kyrian – all of you. Yes, Erlina snuck the armor to me and we were going to sneak out at night. But Howe's men bolted the door and sealed it with magic. Even the best laid plans can fall to superior tactics."

Kyrian inclined his head to Anora. "I'm quite sure Howe would agree with you, were he alive to do so." He unbuckled his belt, pulled the sheathed sword from his belt and handed it to Anora. While Anora slid the sword onto her own belt, he buckled up. He knew the sword would be a bit heavy for her, but he also knew Lor had been working with her. With luck, she would never need to draw her weapon. That thought died quickly, he could feel the cold anger of those that were gathering. "They are waiting for us. A dozen, I think. All exits have come under guard. We all know this is do or die. If we are captured, we will not be ransomed. We will be tortured and killed or killed outright. We are far too dangerous to keep alive for very long, so fight like your lives depend on it – because they do. Now, let's move out."

-BREAK SIX-

Anora squared her shoulders. She could do this. As far as she was concerned, she'd been trained by the best, both in weapons and self-defense. She saw Bethany hand a dagger to her handmaiden. This battle belonged to all of them. She did not even squirm when a dozen guards blocked their path. She smiled. She was not the woman she used to be and she didn't miss her at all.

"My Lord, my Lady, in the name of the regent, I am placing you under arrest for the murder of Rendon Howe and his men-at arms," Cuathrian stated boldly.

Kyrian folded his arms over his chest. "Pray tell, where were you when Rendon Howe butchered my family? Why did you not arrest him for his crimes against the Teyrnir? Because he's in Loghain's pocket?"

"That is heresay, my Lord. There was never any proof that Howe was responsible for what happened to the Couslands!" she spat out, despite her own doubts.

"Is that so? His men taking over the castle? Of course, they must have done that without his permission. Being awarded the Teyrnir by Loghain - again, just coincidence. The servants and soldiers that survived and made the journey back to Denerim – their voices go unheard and ignored. There is far more proof that Howe butchered my family than there is of me killing Howe. Just because I was here to rescue Bann Sighard's son, doesn't mean we were responsible for killing Howe. His own men are disgruntled at their treatment by Howe and the pay they've been shorted. Is it any wonder they would wish him dead?"

Cuathrian studied the Lord intently. His words had truth. She was disgusted by Howe, but he was a friend to Teyrn Loghain. As such, she would protect him. "Did you kill Rendon Howe?"

"Of course," he replied with a slight bow. "Unlike Howe, I'm an honest man. But it was Howe that attacked first, we merely defended ourselves, as was our right," Kyrian pointed out.

"It would be your right if you were not trespassing in Arl Howe's estate. The Arl had every right to attack a trespasser in his home."

"Except, this is not his home. It is simply another property that he has stolen in the name of greed. Anora would never have granted Howe the title of Arl of Denerim. As queen, she is the only person who has the right to transfer a title. Anora did not proclaim her father regent, nor did the nobility of Ferelden give him that power. Teyrn Loghain had no legal standing to give the title and estate away, therefore it belongs to no one and we were not trespassing. Thus, we had a right to defend ourselves," he reiterated.

"I recognize you," Gilmore exclaimed. "You were at Ostagar. You know what really happened and what did not. You know Loghain couldn't see the battle clearly – that's why the signal had to be lit. You know he quit the field without responding to the signal. You know the Wardens fell – almost to the last man to defend Ferelden's king. You know this – yet you still defend him!"

Kyrian kept his voice calm and logical. He could sense the woman's troubled soul. Her conflict was very real. "Loghain is not the man he used to be. Hatred, fear or jealousy, they can twist even the most noble of men. But what he's doing is tearing Ferleden apart and there will be nothing left to fight the darkspawn. We will all fall to the horde if we do not rein him in before it is too late."

Cuathrian stopped pacing and faced the young Lord. "I have had…so many doubts of late. Loghain is a great man, but his hatred of Orlais has driven him to madness. He has done terrible things, I know it, but I owe him everything. I cannot betray him, do not ask me to!"

Kyrian held up his hands. "I am not asking you to betray him. I'm asking you to let us walk out of here so that we can heal Ferelden - it is our only hope if we want to survive the Blight."

"You cannot possibly think of letting them go, Lieutenant," one of the soldier's growled.

"The teyrn wants them dead," another shouted.

"Promise you will help him – don't just kill him. He was our hero…he deserves a chance to redeem himself."

"Lieutenant Cuathrian! I will see you in chains if you do this!" A guard bellowed.

"I can only promise that if he is willing to redeem himself that I will do what I can give him the chance. In the end, it is not my choice to make," he said honestly.

Cuathrian nodded, pulled the greatsword from her back and swung a vicious blow that took off the head of the man that threatened to see her in chains.

Kyrian bit back a laugh at her unexpected move and jumped into battle. It was obvious Cuathrian cared about Loghain and her country.

Even with Cuathrian's help, the battle was a tough one. They were outnumbered, but not outmatched. The people he used his power on, did not live to tell tales. They were all breathing hard by the time the battle was finished.

"If we had the time, I'd ask you about your sword of light. But we don't. The noise from the battle would have drawn too much attention. You must knock me out before you leave. Hurry!" Cuathrian demanded. "Remember your promise, my Lord."

"I cannot hit a lady," Kyrian replied.

"Oh for…," Starlynn marched over to Cuathrian, drew back her arm and let her fist fly. It slammed into the woman's jaw and spun her around. The great sword tumbled from her fingers in a loud clatter as it hit the stone a few moments before the lieutenant did. She shook out her stinging fist and did not look back as she marched straight to the door.

There were no guards outside, but even if they were, they were dressed as Denerim guards and would draw no undue notice. They returned to where they'd left their armor and eagerly shed the guard armor.

Erlina handed Anora a peasant gown and shawl to hide her head when she caught sight of the grinning dwarf all cleaned up. "I did not expect you to stay."

Garrett bowed. "Someone had to stick around to rescue you."

"Of course, how silly of me," Erlina responded, trying not to laugh. What happened today was hair-raising, nothing to laugh over and they wouldn't be safe until they were well away from the Denerim estate.

"Don't ever underestimate the dwarf," he teased. "Now, follow me – I brought mounts."

They mounted in the shadows, with Garrett sharing his mount with Erlina, since neither of them wore armor, and hit out for Eamon's estate at a fast clip.

Eamon's stables were overflowing, their mounts joined others in a makeshift corral at the back of the estate. No sooner did they enter the estate that they were swarmed by family, friends and Paladains. After a round of hugs, those that had extra clothing led them to where they could change out of the armor.

With a quick wash at the basin and a fresh clothing, they rejoined the rest of the nobles and Paladins in the Great Hall. Anora had been given one of Isolde's gowns to wear, since Isolde was back at Redcliffe and wouldn't be needing it.

Eamon raised his arms. "Lords, Ladies, please give us time to catch our newest arrivals up on what we've discovered thus far." He explained about the evidence Tayln found in the Alienage that proved Loghain was selling Ferelden's people as slaves to Tevinter. While many nobles cared little about the plight of the elves, slavery was considered illegal and not to be tolerated.

Kyrian filled them in on what they found when they rescued Anora from Howe's clutches. Oswyn, Bann Sighard's son, taken to stop him from investigating his friend's disappearance and finding out about Loghain's betrayal at Ostegar. About Irminric, Bann Alfstanna's brother, a templar taken when they abducted Jowan so that no one could find out about Loghain sending Jowan to poison Arl Eamon. "According to a drawing on a missing notification in town, we also located a survivor from Ostagar in Howe's dungeon by the name Rexel. Anora has sent her maid, Erlina with Irminric's ring for his sister and to notify the chantry about Rexel."

"Imprisoning and torturing nobles and templars just to cover up his crimes. Selling people into slavery – Loghain is going to lose a lot of supporters at the Landsmeet!" Gallagher's deep voice boomed out across the Great Hall.

Eamon inclined his head. "I agree, Gallagher. These misdeeds give us the proof we need that Loghain is no longer the Hero of River Dane. But we still have some time before the Landsmeet. Continue what you're doing. Get as many nobles on our side as you can."

"My Paladins will be protecting us – we are all at risk right now," Lorianna reminded them. "We should also assign several of the soldiers camping on the outskirts of Denerim to protect the nobles who have declared their intent to support us. Anora," she turned to look at her close friend, "you will be staying with us until the Landsmeet, I hope?"

"I fear there is no place else I would be safe right now. Were I to return home, I suspect my father would have me killed," Anora admitted. "My father has gone mad. He is gripped by a paranoia so severe it prevents him from seeing sense. He sees me as a threat, but even now I'm certain he will be telling the nobles you are dangerous murderers that have kidnapped and mind controlled me." She shook her head. "What is even more sad…he may actually believe it. Howe's influence was strong…it surely worsened my father's condition. That vile man's death can only be a good thing. But I fear that will not be enough. I know my father, and he is committed to his course. He will see it through, no matter what."

Kyrian raised a hand. "There is one more thing I must mention and it is not something most of you will like to hear. Just know it was my best hope at getting Anora out alive. I had words with Cuathrian, Loghain's right-hand lieutenant. She refuses to betray Loghain, but she knows his hatred has twisted into madness. I agreed that while I do not have final say, I will do what I can to ensure Loghain is given a chance to redeem himself – or to get the help he needs rather than killing him outright."

"I won't let you do that! Loghain needs to die for the crimes he committed!" Alistair bellowed.

"Alistair," Kael motioned with his hand to silence his brother. "Gather all of the Wardens, we need to talk…privately." He followed his brother and the noble wardens out into the hall. When they were all gathered, he led them to Eamon's office and leaned his backside against the large, wooden desk. "There are things about being a Warden, I'm not sure any of you are aware of. Perhaps Alistair is. If so, perhaps he needs time to think things through before removing a viable option from the table."

"Are you talking about Loghain?" Alistair fumed, taking an aggressive step towards his brother. "Brother, there's no choice to be made. He needs to die! He let our brother die on the field…he let Duncan die – he did so many horrible things - they cannot be forgiven!"

Kael kept his ass planted on the desk and kept his voice calm. "I'm not asking anyone to forgive him – he was behind the deaths of my family…don't forget that, little brother – because I won't. But there is something you should know about the archdemon -"

Riordan had heard enough. He stepped into the room and closed the door. "One would wonder how you know anything concerning Grey Warden matters, your Majesty."

His gaze narrowed on Riordan. He did not have a lot of faith in the honesty of Grey Wardens. They told you only what they wanted you to know and nothing more. And there was nothing they wouldn't do to accomplish their goals. Good or ill. That was unacceptable to him. "My grandfather was a collector of books. He acquired a very old Grey Warden journal. It was a thoroughly captivating read, I assure you. I also assure you I will not let my family and friends face what is to come without disclosing the whole truth."

The elder Warden frowned but inclined his head to the king. "Now is not the time for lies or deceit. When I saw you gather the Wardens, I followed. They are all new to the Order and I wasn't sure how much they'd had time to learn. But it would seem there is much they still do not know." He glanced over at the king and at the man's nod, he continued. "Have you ever wondered why the Grey Wardens are needed to defeat the darkspawn?"

"I assumed it has something to do with the taint in us," Berchan pointed out.

"It does," Riordan agreed with an incline of his head. "The archdemon may be slain as any other darkspawn, but should any other than a Grey Warden do the slaying, it will not be enough. The essence of the beast will pass through the taint to the nearest darkspawn and will be reborn anew in that body. The dragon is thus all but immortal. But if the archdemon is slain by a Grey Warden…its essence travels into the Grey Warden, instead."

"That doesn't sound very healthy," Lyrica murmured. Her gaze lifted to meet her husband's troubled expression. She was not the only one worried about what they were hearing.

"It's not, Lyrica. A darkspawn is an empty, soulless vessel, but a Grey Warden is not. The essence of the archdemon is destroyed…and so is the Grey Warden."

Alistair was not prepared to hear those words. They all knew they could die fighting Loghain…fighting darkspawn. But this wasn't a vague possibility, this was real. This was the end. "Meaning…the Grey Warden who kills the archdemon …dies?"

"Yes," Riordan confirmed, his voice softening over the word. "Without the archdemon, the Blight ends. It is the only way. As far as we know, the transfer of the archdemon's essence is automatic. If on e of us is not present when the killing blow is made, it is all for nothing. There is no other way. For what it's worth, I'm sorry. But you needn't make the blow yourselves. In Blights past, when the time came the eldest of the Grey Wardens would decide which amongst them would make the final blow. If possible, the final blow should be mine to make. I am the eldest, and the taint will not spare me much longer. But if I fail, the deed falls on you. The Blight must be stopped now or it will destroy all of Ferelden before the rest of the Grey Wardens can assemble. Remember that."

Kael rose from the desk. "Thank you, Riordan. I think it was better coming from you than me – I am too close to them. The thought -" he shook his head and inhaled deeply. "That is why I called you in here. You are my friends…my family and I don't want to see any of you die. Not when there could be an alternative. Loghain. When I take my throne, we can use him. If he survives the Joining, he can make the final blow."

"You cannot do that!" Alistair fumed. "You want to make him some kind of martyr? Giving his life for Ferelden? He doesn't deserve to die a hero! Not after what he's done!"

Kael crossed his arms over his chest and stared at his brother. "Is that all you see? Are you as blinded by hate as Loghain? Do you want to make the final blow? Do you want to die without ever seeing Ann again? You are young in the taint, there is still a chance you and Ann could have that family you always wanted. Or would you prefer the others to lose a spouse when we have a chance of saving them? I'm putting aside my need to kill him for the safety of my family and friends. Are you not willing to do the same, brother?"

He hated it when his brother turned logic on him. At least, he hated it this time. Loghain deserved to die a traitor's death – not a hero's death! But the cost would be the life of one of his friends. Ann…he'd promised to find her. This was all too much. Too much.

Kael nodded when his brother stormed out of the office without another word. "Then he's accepted what must be done."

"How can you know that?" Riordan asked skeptically.

He caught the older Warden's eye. "He didn't keep arguing. He saw what I wanted him to see and he's accepted it. He just needs to work through his emotions now. I'm sure my wife will squirrel him away someplace private and help him work it out. She's good at that."

Riordan studied the young man who would be king. His head was where it needed to be and he made sound choices. "Your decision about Loghain…it was a wise choice. A choice most in your position would have not considered."

He shrugged. "I prefer to have as many backup plans as possible. I need to be crowned before I can go forward with any plans."

"True enough," Riordan responded with a nod. "I will turn in this eve, your Majesty. We will have plenty of time to talk before the Landsmeet."

When the Warden left, he nodded to the others. "Try to get some sleep. It's been a trying day."

-THE LANDSMEET-

There were several assassination attempts leading up the Landsmeet, but the Paladins and soldiers were diligent in their duties. Kael doubted the Crows would bother taking another contract dealing with the nobility of Ferelden. But now it was time to claim his throne and focus on the real threat to his country. The Bight.

With his wife and brother at his side and friends, family and Paladins in his wake, he marched through the Castle towards the Landsmeet chamber. The double doors opened and Cuathrian stepped forward to meet them.

"I was told of your arrival. Loghain wanted to ensure you did not interrupt the proceedings." She knelt down on one knee. "Please heed your brother's promise. Show mercy. Without Loghain, there would be no Fereldon to defend."

"Would he even accept mercy were I to offer it?" He asked quietly as he passed her by. Kadar and Berchan each manned a door, allowing their party to enter the GreatRoom.

Gallagher rose from his seat, his wife and Arl Eamon at his side. "My Lords, Ladies of the Landsmeet, Teyrn Loghain would have us give up our freedoms, our traditions, out of fear! He placed us on this path, yet we should place our destiny in his hands? Must we sacrifice everything good about our nation to save it?" He nodded to the nobles that applauded his words.

Loghain clapped slowly, mocking Gallagher and the nobles that clapped for him. "A fine performance, Gallagher, but no one here is taken in by it. You would attempt to put a puppet bastard – your own son-in-law -on the throne and every soul here knows it. And Eamon – your close ties with the Cousland family are well known. The better question is, 'Who will pull the puppet's strings?' You, Gallagher? You, Eamon? Or will the little wife be the puppeteer? Ah…Maric's chosen daughter who refused to marry his rightful son and heir, now seeks to take the throne from Cailan's real wife and rule Ferelden with a bastard king. Insulting! You should all be insulted!"

He marched to the center of the room, so that all would see him. "Tell us, Kael, how will the Orlesians take our nation from us? Will they deign to send their troops, or simply issue their commands through you? Is this what your family wanted all along? To put an Orlesian sympathizer on our great throne? What did they offer you? How much is the price of Ferelden honor now?"

Kael's gaze locked onto Loghain's. "Is that all you see, Loghain? The Blight is at our backdoor and you shout, 'Orlesians'? It's not the Orlesians we have to worry about, it's the darkspawn!"

Bann Darling of Winter's Breath stepped forward. "There are enough refugees in my bannorn now that make that abundantly clear!"

"The south has fallen, Loghain! Will you let darkspawn take the whole of the country for fear of Orlais?" Teagan demanded.

"The Blight is indeed real, Teagan. But do we need Grey Wardens to fight it?" Loghain countered. "They claim that they alone can end the Blight, yet they failed spectacularly against the darkspawn at Ostagar, and they ask to bring with them four legions of chevaliers. And once we open our borders to the chevaliers, can we really expect them to simply return from whence they came?"

Kael folded his arms over his chest. "Did you see an archdemon at Ostagar? No. The Blight can only end when the archdemon is destroyed. Without that, it is only a battle like any other. And that is not what we are here to discuss. We are here to discuss your crimes against Ferelden. You allowed Rendon Howe to imprison and torture noble and templar alike."

Bann Sighard gripped the banister and leaned over. "Teyrn Kael speaks truly! My son was taken under cover of night while searching for his best friend – a survivor from Ostagar that spoke out against you! The things done to him…some of them are beyond any healer's skill."

"Howe was responsible for himself! He will answer to the Maker for any wrongs committed in this life. As must we all. But you know that, it was your family that murdered him. Whatever Howe may have done, he should have been brought before the seneschal. There is no justice in butchering a man in his home."

"The Arl of Denerim's estate was not Howe's. Only the monarchy has the power to give or take titles – you do not. Thus, they had a right to defend themselves from attack. And you say you had nothing to do with Howe's activities? Do you remember the blood mage, Jowan, that you captured? How about the Templar that had found him? Both were thrown in the dungeon on your order - you released the blood mage to poison Arl Eamon. The templar remained in the dungeon until we found him and notified his sister."

"I assure you, if I were going to send someone, it would be my own soldiers. I would not trust the discretion of an apostate." Logain's argument sounded weak even to his own ears. He could not have openly attacked Eamon. Even his supporters would not have tolerated that.

"Indeed?" Bann Alfstanna responded in an icy cold tone. "My brother tells a very different story. He says you snatched a blood mage from the chantry's justice. Coincidence?"

"Do not think the Chantry will overlook this, Teyrn Loghain," Grand Cleric Elemena warned. "Interference in a templar's sacred duties is an offense against the Maker."

Jowan stepped up next to Arl Eamon from the shadows of the balcony, intending to have his say, until a hand pushed him back into the shadows.

"Don't do it, Jowan. I know you wish to help, but you will only make things more difficult for them. Keep your cowl up and do not be seen," Eamon admonished, not unkindly.

Loghain blinked and his lips thinned. This was not going how he'd planned. That mewling pretender was outmaneuvering him at every turn. "Whatever I have done, I will answer for later." He turned from the Grand Cleric to face his accuser. "At the moment, however, I wish to know what this puppet has done with my daughter."

"Why ever would we do anything with Anora?" Lorianna asked, a smile pulling at her lips. Anora had claimed her father would make such an accusation.

"You took my daughter – our queen – by force, killing her guards in the process. What arts have you employed to keep her? Does she even still live?" Loghain demanded.

Lor's brows rose in surprise. She could sense no deceit in his words – not this time. He truly believed what he was saying. "Does she still live? Why would you ask me that? She's one of my closest friends. Everyone here knows that. You know that. We are enjoying spending some time together. There is no crime in that."

This was the cue Anora had been waiting for. She handed her hooded cloak to the Prince of Starkhaven and stepped forward into the room. "I believe I can speak for myself." She continued walking forward. "Lords and Ladies of Ferelden, hear me. My father is no longer the man you knew. This man is not the Hero of River Dane. This man turned his troops aside and refused to protect your king as he fought bravely against the darkspawn. This man seized Cailan's throne before his body was cold and locked me away so I could not reveal his treachery. I would have already been killed, if not for Kael's brave family, who risked their lives to free from my prison."

Loghain shook his head in disbelief. Not his own daughter. His gaze captured hers, needing to see the truth of her feelings. Shame. Sorrow. Fear. Then…it was so. He'd lost her. "So, the Couslands and Wulffs have poisoned even your mind, Anora? I wanted to protect you from this," his voice thick with sorrow that weighed heavy on his heart. He turned away from his daughter and faced the assembly, his arms raised to implore them to listen. "My Lords and Ladies, our land has been threatened before. It's been invaded, and lost, and won times beyond counting, We Fereldens have proven that we will never truly be conquered so long as we are united. We must not let ourselves be divided now. Stand with me, and we shall defeat even the Blight itself!"

One by one, the Banns and Arls stepped forward and gave their votes to Kael – a man that built an army to defend Ferelden rather than attack its people. Only a single noble stood behind Loghain. Kael turned to face the once-named hero. "The Landsmeet has voted against you, Loghain. Step down peacefully."

No! it can't end like this! Everything he'd fought for would be lost. "Traitors!" Logain growled. "Which of you stood against the Orlesian emperor when his troops flattened your fields and raped your wives?" He swung around and looked up at the balcony. "You fought with us once, Eamon. You cared about this land once. Before you got to old and fat and content to even see what you risk! None of you," he snarled, motioning the crowd with a swipe of his hand, "deserve a say in what happens here! None of you have spilled blood for this land the way I have! How dare you judge me!"

"Do not do this to Anora, Loghain. Despite what has happened, you are still her father and she loves you. I implore you, stand down," Kael stated, loudly yet calmly.

"I will not!" he growled. "Let us end this. I suppose we both knew it would come to this. When we met at Ostagar, I knew you would be more trouble than Cailan. But Ostagar seems like it happened in another lifetime, to someone else." He released a harsh breath. "A man is made by the quality of his enemies. Maric told me that once. I wonder if it's more a compliment to you or me. Enough," he growled with a swipe of his hand. "Let the Landsmeet declare the terms of the duel."

Bann Alfstanna's voice rose above the whispering nobles. "It shall be fought according to tradition: a test of arms in single combat until one party yields. And we who are assembled will abide the outcome."

"Will you face me yourself or do you have a champion?" Loghain asked.

"This is between you and I, Loghain. I fight my own battles."

"So did Cailan – you can see where that got him," Loghain scoffed. "Have you learned nothing?"

"My brother believed in you – I know better. You'll not find my back so easy to stab," Kael warned.

"Prepare yourself!" Loghain snarled, signaling the crowd to back away.

They began by slowly moving in a circle, keeping their sides turned to each other, evaluating any signs of weakness. "I'm sorry, Loghain, this is an unfair fight."

His gaze lowered to take in Kael's chainmail gambeson and the armor pieces that only covered his upper chest, one arm and lower legs. "Then you should have put on your daddy's armor."

"I meant…for you. I am faster and can move easier than you. Were I to fight you in the manner in which my wife trained me, you would be on your back with my sword at your neck before you could draw your weapon. But I will fight you in the manner in which we were both trained. Let no one question the validity of this battle."

"I thought you different, but your head's in the clouds just like Cailan's. No one can-" The breath was knocked out of him when he landed hard on his back in a clank of armor, the cold bite of steel at his throat.

"Now," Kael said as he slid his sword back into its scabbard and offered a hand to Loghain, "shall we do it your way?"

Loghain knocked away the hand and rolled to his side to push himself up into a stand. More armor meant more protection, but it also meant less maneuverability. That was aptly displayed to him. If they continued the fight, he would swing and Kael would likely not be there to receive the blow. Kael's blows would do little damage to his armor but the bastard had proven himself fast, as such he could strike between the plates. If it came down to endurance, Kael had the advantage of youth and lighter armor. Outthinking your enemy was an important tactic. Kael outmaneuvered him every step of the way. Perhaps he was wrong about Maric's bastard being strong enough to lead Ferelden. He had the confidence and strength of youth, the surety of knowledge, the determination of a survivor and the intelligence to outwit an entrenched enemy. He also had diplomatic skills, bringing in the Queen of Orzammar, the Prince of Starkhaven and his own daughter. He knew his own weaknesses and he'd never been a diplomatic man. He saw what needed to be done and did it. Kael would be a better king than Cailan ever was. But his ties to Orlais….

Loghain lifted his shield and drew his sword and charged the would be bastard-king.

Kael spun to the side at the last moment and slammed his shield into Loghain's back, sending the older man stumbling forward.

They turned to face each other once more and came together in a clash of armor and shields, shoving each other back enough to raise their swords. Loghain struck, Kael blocked with sword and shield, allowing Loghain to deliver punishing blows, which he was not always there to receive.

Round after round, Loghain was beginning to feel the strain of a prolonged duel. Why had Kael given him a second chance? He'd already won the battle. Was it stupidity or honor? No. The young man had already proven his intelligence. Honor then. Honor did not always win wars. Would he be able to make the tough decisions that made a lie of honor? No matter. He doubted he would be alive to find out. He hissed when he felt the bite of steel across the outside of his thigh. The warmth of blood trickled down his leg. He knelt on one knee, his sword and shield tips resting on the ground. "I underestimated you, Kael Theirin, I thought you were like Cailan, a child wanting to play at war." He dropped his weapons and rose to his feet. "I was wrong. There's a strength in you that I have not seen anywhere since Maric died. I yield."

Kael inclined his head. "I accept your surrender. But whether you live or pay for your crimes depends on the choice you make." Kael motioned Riordan to join them.

"I do not intend to give him the choice," Riordan stated baldly, "though a chance at life is preferable to none, yes?" He directed the question to the defeated teyrn. "As you know, Grey Wardens have the right to conscript recruits during times of Blight. The teyrn is a warrior and general of renown, albeit notorious of late." He straightened his shoulders and gazed out at the Lords and Ladies. "Let it be known, that I hereby conscript Loghain Mac Tir into the ranks of the Grey Wardens."

Kael held up his hands as shouts reverberated across the Greatroom. "The Grey Warden is within his rights to conscript Loghain. There is nothing I or anyone else can do about it." He nodded to Riordan who led Loghain away, surrounded by soldiers, to protect him until tempers cooled.

Eamon inclined his head to Gallagher and stepped forward. He knew it would not be appropriate for Gallagher to usher his son and daughter to the throne. "So, it is decided. Kael will take his father's throne with Lorianna, his queen – just as Maric had always intended. Anora, you must swear fealty to our new King and Queen and relinquish all claim to the throne for yourself and your heirs."

"I have no desire to fight my friends for the throne. Ferelden will have a solid monarchy. Kael, Lor…you have always had my support. I relinquish all claim to the throne for myself and my heirs," Anora stated with a smile of satisfaction on her face. Ferelden was in good hands. Her father survived the Landsmeet. Despite the atrocities he'd committed, he was still her father and she hoped that with removal from power he would come to see how far he'd fallen and try to make amends.

Lorianna took Anora's hand and drew her close to her side. She would never forget Anora's support. Things could have ended far worse than they did.

When Eamon received the signal from Kael, he withdrew the sealed missive that proclaimed Kael king of Ferelden. "Lords and Ladies of the Landsmeet. There is proof that Maric always intended for his son to rule Ferelden. Three copies of this missive were made by Maric's hand. This one, left in the care of the Couslands, survived." He broke the seal and opened the parchment. He recited the words written by King Maric establishing Kael's true name and paternity, granting him the title of Prince of Ferelden, second in line for the throne. He then folded the missive and looked up at his king. "Your Highness, would you address the Landsmeet?"

"My father, King Maric, was defined by his commitment to protecting this land. As your king, I will do no less than my father. With the assistance of my wife and her Paladins, we have untied Ferelden's peoples to protect the land once more. The formal coronation will occur when the Blight is defeated. If I and our queen fall in battle, Prince Alistair will take the throne. Everyone, make ready. We stand together against the Blight: elves, mages, Grey Wardens, dwarves, nobles, commoners, chasind, avvar, and yes..even Orlesians. No sword will be refused, because the Blight is not just Ferelden's problem, but all of Thedas'. We must stand together as one to save our country and stop the Blight from spreading. We will stand strong! We will defeat it! We are Fereldens!"