Chapter 13
9:37 Dragon
Royal Palace of Denerim
Riona kept sneaking down to the palace dungeons for many nights afterwards. Shale seemed quite pleased to see her, glad for having a visitor after many years of collecting dust, forgotten by all and everyone, even her cruel master. Many stories had been exchanged, the grateful golem embracing the role of a storyteller, even if at times it was hard to keep Shale from embarking on yet another tale of revenge on pigeons of Ferelden.
She had learned many truths that the Queen would no doubt prefer were never heard again. Like the one revealing the true fate of the Orlesian girl, Leliana. On her master's orders, Shale herself had carried the young bard's body out of the Radcliffe Castle, through its dungeons and a secret entrance in an old windmill. Maythre had never explained why she had killed the girl, they appeared to have been on good terms before. Shale thought that Leliana had simply learned something she wasn't supposed to know or had seen too much. Now she rested in the embrace of the Maker for eternity, buried somewhere in the sparse pine woods surrounding Redcliffe.
Maythre's fellow Grey Warden, the young ex-templar Alistair, had the strongest claim to Ferelden's throne, certainly he seemed far more deserving of it than Anora or Eamon, not even to mention the blood mage currently occupying the seat. Even if Riona admitted this to herself, she wondered just how much good he would have done for the mages of Ferelden for even if Maythre's methods were distasteful, the results appeared... commendable. But in the end Alistair had been betrayed by both Anora and Maythre, only nearly escaping with his life. Shale seemed very surprised by Maythre's decision to rescue Alistair and send him into exile. The golem claimed it would have been more in character for the queen to have executed Alistair herself, this strange moment of weakness and compassion puzzling both Shale and now Riona.
Of the queen's elven lover, Zevran, Shale did not have much to say. He had been fiercely loyal to Maythre throughout their adventures, though the golem could not have said whether this was the result of the Warden's blood magic or not. Shale was unwilling to dwell on memories concerning Zevran ever since she got reminded of the times where the Warden had put her on guard duty while she and her lover sneaked away from the camp for some alone time. The mental image of two naked elves busy in a heated coupling session appeared to be mentally scarring for any decent golem.
The qunari Sten was not worth of in-depth inquiries, despite Shale seeming rather appreciative of the warrior from Par Vollen. After the defeat of the archdemon, he had simply returned home, having no further involvement in the events in Ferelden. Likewise for their dwarven guide in the Deep Roads, Oghren. Maythre had dragged Paragon Branka to King Bhelen, tied up and ranting, and Oghren had been forced to remain in Orzammar and enjoy the delights of married life together with a screaming, obsessed lunatic of a wife.
And lastly there had been Morrigan, a most disagreeable and irritating creature, as Shale put it. The golem admired some of the qualities of the Swamp Witch, her fierce, often hostile independence, and lack of fear from anything they came across. But her intent in every conversation had been simply to insult, so she had not formed warm relationship with anyone, Maythre being the sole exception. Those two had appeared to grow into friends over the course of their travels, so it came as a big surprise to Shale and the others to one morning simply find Morrigan gone, on the very eve of their big battle with the archdemon.
Regrettably, Shale had no explanations for this. Her master had not asked Shale to dispose of any bodies, so the golem didn't believe Maythre had killed Morrigan during some argument. The Swamp Witch had fled, but why? She certainly was not terrified of the darkspawn horde or the archdemon. There was a reason why she had left, but the only ones who knew what it was were Morrigan herself and Maythre. It was a dead end, as the queen was unlikely to approve of inquiries made in this direction.
With all stories of those days exhausted and the queen returning from her trip to Western Ferelden any day now, Riona had to stop seeing Shale. She was quite sad to abandon the golem in those dark dungeons, but Shale seemed satisfied with this turn of events. Patient and silent, she would wait there in the dark, unmolested by pigeons, unbeknownst to her old master having her free will restored and slowly hatching plans to one day squish Queen Maythre into small pile of bloody mash. If there was one thing that golems clearly had on their side... it was time.
9:37 Dragon
Howe Estate, Denerim
"I'm just relieved the Queen has taken no notice of your... ill-advised meddling," Nathaniel told Riona, as she was once again having a late dinner at his place. It had become almost a tradition, especially now that Queen Maythre no longer seemed interested in prodding her about the adventures in Kirkwall. "I hope it was worth it."
"I think so. I didn't learn anything conclusive, but plenty of interesting things nonetheless," Riona replied. And I've confirmed Flemeth's involvement in the events that transpired here. The Fifth Blight would have never been defeated as swiftly as it was, unless for her rescue of Maythre and Alistair. The only question remains... is she still involved in whatever is happening in Ferelden currently...
"Mind you..." Riona resumed talking after a moment of thoughtful silence. "Maybe I shouldn't linger around Denerim for much longer now that I have what I wanted. Maythre might eventually discover that I have poked my nose where it doesn't belong... and people who do that tend to discreetly disappear. That would be bad, yes?"
"That would be very bad," Nathaniel looked at her worriedly. Then he smiled, snapping his fingers. "I've got an idea," he said. "I was thinking that I should return to Amaranthine soon. Why don't you come with me? There is a lot to see, the Vigil's Keep is impressive, the land is wild, untamed and beautiful in its own dangerous way."
Riona felt a shiver of uncertainty pass through her. She liked Nathaniel a great deal, she truly did, and at the same time she felt there was more behind this invitation. There had been flirting before, idle, casual touch of his hand that sent her heart racing and still made her feel more guilty than anything else. If she would agree to this trip, he would no doubt see it as a sign to be more straightforward with her. Did she want that?
Amaranthine is the old hunting ground of Anders and Justice, though. They had fought some darkspawn there, and even Maythre started to show interest in that. Perhaps I should use the opportunity to explore... she tried to rationalize the choice, trying to get rid of the associated guilt. "Well... it does sound tempting, Nathaniel, but... I'm not sure the Queen would appreciate me taking an extended leave from Denerim."
"Have you asked her?" Nathaniel suggested. "You say she insists that you are no prisoner. Let her prove those words with her deeds."
"...very well, I will ask," Riona finally acceded. "But I don't promise anything." Nathaniel shrugged. "When do you plan to leave?"
"In two days," he replied. Riona felt her heart clench, the emotion unpleasantly strong.
"I'll let you know my decision before then," she said quietly. A less comfortable silence descended upon the table, neither of them sure how to continue, and Riona was pleased for the interruption of the servants, starting to clean up the table from the empty dishes in front of them.
Another bottle of wine appeared on the table, and a few glasses later, Riona started to feel more relaxed again, looking to pick up the lost thread of conversation. "I've been meaning to ask for a long while now, ever since you mentioned Amaranthine for the first time. After the Fifth Blight, when you returned to your home there... did you ever encounter an apostate mage named Anders? Or a... being called Justice?"
Nathaniel looked at her, his eyes wide with surprise. "I certainly did. Both of them, in fact. Together we battled the darkspawn that were threatening the entire arling. But Anders left with the Wardens after that, having been conscripted into their Order to escape the templars, and of Justice I saw no sign either. How do you know of them?"
"I ran into Anders and Justice in Kirkwall," Riona spoke heavily. "But they... were no longer two separate entities. They had merged into one being. Justice had possessed him."
"What? Oh... oh no. Maker... so he listened to me then, after all? I should not have said anything, I should have kept my mouth shut," Nathaniel looked very distressed.
"...what did you say, Nathaniel?" Riona looked at him, worried at his reaction.
"Justice had possessed the body of a fallen Grey Warden, and at one point we started talking about what will happen after the body would... rot away completely. I asked him whether he would possess a living being to continue his existence in this realm, but he was terrified at such demonic act," Nathaniel explained. "Then... then I told him that if his recipient was willing, then there would be nothing demonic about it. Now I worry that those were my words that urged Anders to... to do what he did..."
Riona swallowed heavily. He's to blame for Anders merging with Justice. If not for those words, perhaps the thought would have never occurred to them. And then... perhaps the Chantry in Kirkwall would still be standing...
"What's wrong?" Nathaniel was immediately at her side, his hand on her shoulder comforting.
No... I can't tell him about Bethany. I shouldn't. It's not truly his fault, and he should not be feeling guilty about it. "It... didn't end well for them, Nathaniel," she said instead. "I'm sorry. You couldn't have known."
"Is Anders..." Nathaniel withdrew his hand, looking stricken.
"He's gone, Nathaniel. The spirit of Justice... changed while within him, his anger at the injustice towards mages twisted the spirit into something terrible. Did the news about the destruction of Kirkwall's Chantry reach Denerim?"
"Yes, while the Queen's sycophants were tearing down our own Chantry," Nathaniel smirked.
"Anders did it," Nathaniel stared at her, shocked. "He thought it would buy freedom for the mages of Free Marches and elsewhere. It was his last act in this life. He died soon afterwards."
"Unbelievable..." Nathaniel whispered. "Something I said so many years ago... it helped Her Majesty start her war with the templars. Perhaps I should report this to her and ask for a reward of some kind?" he added bitterly.
"I can imagine it's not easy to comprehend," Riona told him sympathetically, then rising from the table. "I should take my leave though, it is getting past the time when it is no longer socially acceptable for a young lady to remain alone in company of an eligible nobleman."
Nathaniel burst into laughter. "You never fail at distracting me from dark thoughts, Riona. Thank you."
"Well, I imagine you will have a lot to think about regardless," Riona said. "I promise to send you a message before you leave for Amaranthine."
He rose to escort her outside. "And I will pray the contents of your message will please me."
The next evening at the Royal Palace, Denerim
Her Majesty Maythre, Queen of Ferelden, was busy in discussion with her second in command, Ser Cauthrien, when the knock on the doors of her study interrupted their busy hatching of wily schemes. "Enter!" she called, displeased with the disturbance.
"My apologies, Your Majesty," it was Shilla, the elven maid, her head bowed. "Lady Hawke wishes to see you, if you have a few minutes to spare. I can tell her to wait..."
"I will see her right away," Maythre decided. Their plans could wait, now that they already had been interrupted. "Send Hawke in."
A few moments later, Hawke entered. She was wearing the silver embroidered, heavy brown adventuring robes that she had on when Cauthrien had captured her on the Wounded Coast. The robes had since been fixed by the Formari crafters under her care, their enchantments refreshed and bolstered. The crest of her noble family was emblazoned in red across the chest and the back of the robes, and the young woman before her seemed to wear the garb with great pride.
"What can I do for you, Champion?" she addressed her guest.
"Your Majesty," Riona started with a small curtsey. "I have a question... or a request, if I may be so bold."
"Come sit with us, my friend," Maythre pointed at an empty chair at her desk, next to where Cauthrien sat, eyeing Hawke with undisguised distrust. "Tell me what is on your mind."
"Well..." Hawke said, once she had taken her seat. "I have already told you everything I know about the events in Kirkwall, and considering we have barely talked since your return from Orzammar... I was wondering if my presence here in Denerim is necessary."
"Do you wish to leave?" Maythre asked. She knew this request would come sooner or later. In fact, she had expected Hawke to attempt to flee without informing her; she was glad to see that was not the case, for it meant the girl trusted her at least somewhat.
"I thought... maybe I could travel the land for a bit, go see the places I spent my youth," Riona explained.
"Then you are welcome to do so, my friend," Maythre smiled magnanimously. "As I told you before, you are not a prisoner here. You may leave at any time you want, and you don't need to stay in Ferelden."
"I... I thank you, Your Majesty," Hawke appeared both surprised and overjoyed.
"If you could indulge my curiosity though, perhaps you can tell me which way you are headed," the Queen asked then.
"I was thinking of returning to Lothering first, and see what is left of it. Perhaps Ostagar as well," Riona replied.
"Then I wish you a pleasant journey, my dear friend," the Queen said, reaching out for a warm handshake and an exchange of smiles. Hawke departed shortly after, delighted at the ease with which she had been released from the nonexistent imprisonment.
As the doors closed behind Hawke, Cauthrien's disapproving stare fixed upon the Queen. "Where is the wisdom in this?" she asked, shaking her head. "The girl knows too much, will you let her run around unchecked?"
Maythre did not reply. She simply kept smiling as she withdrew a strange, glowing red object from the drawer of her desk, casually flipping it through her fingers. It looked like a large ruby of sorts, dark red liquid flowing inside, the crystal shell sparkling enchantingly in the candlelight. "What is that?" Cauthrien asked.
"Do you remember how Hawke got stabbed one evening, for no apparent reason?" the Queen asked, still grinning smugly. "A bizarre incident to be sure, nobody could make any sense of it."
"I remember," Cauthrien said curtly. "What of it?"
"I happened to come across the knife with Hawke's blood," Maythre explained, wicked grin on her lips. "There was just enough of it for me to manufacture this," she threw the gem lightly in the air before catching it again in her nimble fingers. "It really is oh so very easy!"
"You don't mean..."
"Yes," Maythre laughed. "It's Hawke's phylactery. Marvelous idea, isn't it?"
"Using the tools of the templars yourself?" Cauthrien shuddered as she spoke. "There's something very sinister about that."
"My dear Cauthrien... there is great wisdom in learning from our enemies, remember that," Maythre chuckled. "And now... I can see how much Hawke trusts me after all. Will she go to Lothering as she told me? I will see it all."
"Devious," Cauthrien nodded. "You really do think of everything."
"Indeed, I do... with this phylactery, I will be able to track Hawke for the rest of her life. Dear girl... she doesn't even realize being on a leash... and who holds that leash..."