Chapter XIV

Everil dropped her bag on the ground with a sigh, then gazed up from her belongings to the snowy mountains towering ahead, the cold air blowing through her hair and coat. They had been traveling for days, and now they were close to their destination. She didn't know how receptive the dwarves would be to their visit, as she had never been to their territory before. But Aldous' teachings as a child taught her enough about their culture to hopefully convince them to help if they declined.

They were prideful people, reclusive in their ways. Only a few ever ventured out from underground, and those who remained in the surface rarely returned to their kingdom after having been cast out as outsiders.

Regardless, the treaties were all they needed. She only hoped the dwarves kept their word as well as their ancestors did during the past Blights.

"We should be arriving to Orzammar tomorrow."

Her head turned to Alistair, his eyes upon the mountains ahead.

She sighed. "I only hope we will have enough time to gather their support and help the arl."

Upon hearing the doubt in her voice he shifted his gaze down upon her, noticing the tension on her brow.

He leaned down for a brief kiss. "We will..."

He then turned around, and Everil watched him walk towards the middle of the clearing, where firewood was already gathered by them.

She felt a small smile tug at her lips, his confidence bringing up her spirits before she leaned over and picked up her camping equipment. She knelt down and began unraveling the tent, her hound taking a seat beside her as he watched. Then footsteps approaching made her glance over her shoulder to see Leliana heading towards her before stopping next to her with a smile.

"Would you like to join me for a hunt?"

Everil glanced up at her, returning her smile. "Sure. Let me finish this and we shall go."

xxxxxxx

The setting sun cast shadows over their path, turning the sky orange, yellow and pink. The two women walked through the woods, wielding bows and arrows as they scanned their surroundings for food. Magnus led them, sniffing the ground as he took sharp turns around bushes and trees.

"How fortunate Magnus is a good guide. Tracking is nearly not necessary," Leliana told her quietly, sending her a small smile.

"Yes." Everil returned her smile. "You know, that reminds me of the time I lost my way in the woods several years ago. Magnus was but a pup then."

"Truly? How old were you?"

"I was thirteen." She shook her head with a hopeless grin. "I was still new to the skills of a rogue, yet I had the bright idea to venture out on my own during a hunting trip with my family. I was lost for days."

Leliana gave her a sympathetic look. "Oh you poor thing! That must have been quite frightening."

"I actually did not mind it too much. I had my mabari pup keeping me company. Not to mention that when one is that young it is easy to have over confidence in your abilities... which is what got me in trouble in the first place."

"How did you find your way back?"

"Freya, Magnus' mother, was my father's mabari. She led him to where Magnus and I were," She said before letting out a chuckle. "I had strayed farther away from camp when trying to make my way back, therefore making it more difficult for them to find us."

"What a scare you must have given him," Leliana said as she giggled softly.

"Yes. I felt terrible when he found me. He was terribly worried." She smiled wistfully, recalling her father's warm embrace. "However, what made me feel worse was my mother's reaction at the news. Maker knows my father never heard the end of it since. "

Leliana's gaze softened. "You miss them, no?"

"I do..." Everil uttered somberly before a soft breath escaped her lips. "My apologies. It was not my intention to dampen the mood."

The nun shook her head, her red hair swaying with the motion. "I know they may not all be happy memories, but nevertheless, it makes me glad to know you feel comfortable enough to talk to me about them."

"Thank you." Everil smiled at her. "What about you? You speak of many legends in your songs around the campfire, but you must have had some interesting experiences of your own."

Leliana paused for a moment, and she couldn't tell if she was hesitating or thinking about which memory to discuss with her. Aside from the occasional reference to her once caretaker, the nun's past was practically still a mystery to her and the others. She told them much about Orleis, their fashion and politics, but she had never really discussed anything personal.

"I am afraid that aside from serving and playing music for the lady of the house, my childhood was not as exciting as yours." She lowered her bow and tapped her finger to her chin. "Hmm… I once accidentally poured varnish oil instead of honey in a noble's cup of tea."

Everil's brows went up and she let out a soft laugh. "That sounds like an interesting concoction. How did that happen?"

"I had been polishing the table prior to bringing the tray of tea. And she was the lady of a respected house in Orleis, making her attire so extravagant it was both distracting and fascinating," Leliana said, giggling at the memory. "I simply could not look away… As you well know, varnish oil and honey look similar, making them easily mistakable when using the corner of your eye and not paying attention."

Everil smiled. She half expected something a bit more recent, but perhaps Leliana was content with her privacy. "So did she drink it?"

"She took a sip and spat it out… on my face."

Everil laughed softly. "Aw! I hope you were not in too much trouble afterwards."

"She was obviously unhappy, but Lady Cecile calmed her. It had been but a few days after my mother died, so she used that to justify my lack of focus," Leliana said as she gazed up to the trees before letting out a giggle. "Still… it is needless to say I have not placed honey and varnish oil on the same table since."

The two chuckled, smiling at each other as they continued their trek through the woods.

"You seem so much happier lately… Alistair too," Leliana pointed out with a gentle smile.

"Morrigan mentioned that…though she was more worried than pleased about it. To put it lightly," Everil said with a soft smile of her own.

"Don't listen to her... I don't believe she understands." Leliana paused and gazed up to the sky, noticing the stars were beginning to poke out of the still orange background. "Even someone as strong as you needs another to make them smile once in a while. I am glad he makes you happy."

"Thank you, Leliana…"

The nun then turned her head to her. "By the way... I am curious... Is he good in bed?"

Everil chuckled at the unexpected question, heat tinting her cheeks pink. "He… is much better than I imagined."

Leliana gave her a teasing grin. "I figured he would be, considering the sounds coming from your tents each night. But I suppose a man as good looking as he must be experienced at it."

The Warden's smile widened. "One would think."

"Wait…" Leliana's brows shot up. "He was a virgin?"

"Yes… But I feel confident enough to say that his performance is not affected by that in the slightest," Everil told her with a wistful smile, twirling a strand of her wavy hair between her fingers.

"Ooh… So he's a natural lover and one not bedded by another before," Leliana nudged her arm with her elbow. "Lucky you."

Everil grinned at her. She had never spoken about sex to another woman, mostly because she never had that sort of relationship with anyone before now. Throughout her life, friends were picked out for her rather than made naturally through conversation.

The loud bark of her hound made the two look its way, readying their bows.

Magnus approached a rustle in the bush ahead and barked again, forcing out what was hiding within. It shot out like a bolt, their heads whipping to it as it ran, chased by the hound.

"Blast it!" Everil went after it, preparing an arrow while Leliana followed suit.

xxxxxxx

"Quit staring, you perverted elf."

"I'm simply admiring your beauty, Morrigan. I hadn't noticed it before," He grinned seductively at her. "Or… more like I was afraid of looking."

"Well you should be afraid, fool," Morrigan muttered moodily, tossing the herbs she previously gathered in a pile with the rest of their supplies.

Zevran folded his arms. "Why? You pretend to be cold, but I'm certain there is passion in you."

"You know nothing of me." She replied with a dark look.

"Oh come now. I'm sure a tough woman like yourself could make any man whimper in bed." He teased further.

"I can make you scream now, if you wish."

"Careful Zevran. She's not joking."

They turned their gaze to Alistair, who was sitting on a log by the fire. He poked the coals with a stick, adjusting them before tossing more wood in. He was usually the one working on their campfire, possibly because he found it calming.

"Your assistance is not required, Alistair," Morrigan said as she scowled at him.

"Who says I'm trying to help you?" He smiled up at her, aggravating her further. "I just think it would be inconvenient for us to lose one of our party members because of you."

"I appreciate your concern, Warden," Zevran muttered, sarcasm at the edge of his voice.

"Now, now all of you," Wynne gently chastised from her spot by her tent.

A bark in the distance drew their attention as a large turkey burst out from the edge of the woods, running towards them while being followed closely by their hound. The group turned their head as the bird ran through the camp in a panic, stumbling over cooking utensils and potion bottles. It let out a frightened squawk as Magnus jumped over the obstacles, opening its jaws as he neared its tail.

The bird then made a sharp turn, hysterically flapping its wings while making the hound slide over the grass.

Everil and Leliana stepped out of the woods just in time to see it run towards the large rock body standing in the turkey's path.

A giant slam then shook their camp, and suddenly it all fell silent.

Everil walked up to Shale, gazing down at the red mess of bone, feathers and blood now smearing the ground. She almost felt sorry for it. Her gaze shifted up to the golem. "Uhm... the idea was to have the bird for dinner tonight, but I suppose we can settle for bread and cheese instead."

Shale tilted her chin up arrogantly. "It's not my fault its hunting skills are terrible."

"Not terrible... Just not perfect," Everil replied with mild irritation. "You know, that was a little excessive. Why would you kill an animal like that?"

"I was frozen in place for decades in that little village. Unable to move or speak. I was but a statue in the town square while the villager lay down feed for the birds."

Everil let out a breath. "I don't see how that relates to crushing a living creature like this."

Shale bent over to her level, her glowing blue eyes narrowing as she menacingly met her gaze. "Had it ever stood in one place long enough for those wretched creatures to soil its person?"

Realization dawned upon her. "Oh..."

"I thought so." Shale leaned back up, the menacing glare turning into a condescending look.

To the golem's surprise, Everil grinned at her. "When we face the darkspawn, make sure you imagine them with giant chickens over their heads."

"Certainly," Shale uttered with mild amusement.

Giving the golem a smile, she turned to walk to the others. "All right everyone. At least waiting for dinner to cook is no longer necessary."

xxxxxxx

By the time they were done eating the sun had completely disappeared behind the horizon. Most of her group gathered around the fire, watching the next sparring session between her and Zevran. In the last couple of nights of practice she had significantly improved her offensive maneuvers. She had once been deemed one of the best fighters in Highever, which in the end probably limited her ability to expand her knowledge beyond what was taught to her by her father.

If only she could continue using his blade. That blade helped her remember who she was. She wanted to hold on to it, to use it to end the Blight as both a Grey Warden and a proud member of the Cousland family.

Everil ducked as Zevran struck sideways with the piece of wood in his hand, but instead of continuing on the defensive, she used the evasion to counter his attack. She kicked forth from her kneeling position to quickly strike his side with her wooden weapon, drawing a grunt out of him.

"Sorry," She muttered, but continued her assault, forcing him to step back and out of the way of another swing.

"Don't apologize. It won't happen again!" He replied with a diagonal swing of his arm. She leaned to the side, dodging the attack before using the same motion to twist around and down to kick at his feet. He back flipped to avoid it, then kicked forward, bringing his sticks down in a stabbing motion, only to hit air as she rolled out of the way. He smirked and kicked down, knocking her feet from beneath while she tried to stand. She fell on her back and he made to get on top of her. But he was forced to lean back when she kicked her feet up to roll backwards, her feet narrowly missing his jaw.

"Everil has quickly become more agile," Leliana commented with a smile, sitting between Alistair and Wynne with a half-eaten apple in her hand.

"I didn't think that would be possible," Alistair uttered, Everil's fluid motions nearly mystifying. He had seen her fight so many times he nearly forgot how well she could move and how fast she really was.

Zevran stabbed forth and she dodged, then in a blink of an eye she slid her arm under his and across his chest while her leg hooked behind his. Now it was Zevran's turn to be surprised. And his eyes widened as his body fell. He was slammed hard against the ground, her knee coming down to his chest, pinning him to the ground as her wooden weapon touched his neck.

From his spot by the fire, Sten grunted with an approving nod. "A fast learner."

Zevran smiled up at her, panting for breath. "See? The best defense is a good offense."

She returned the smile and stood, dropping her stick to offer him a hand. "Thank you, Zevran."

"My pleasure," He replied, taking her hand and letting her help him up. He didn't let go afterwards however, and instead brought her hand up to his lips. "Aren't you glad you let me tag along back in Denerim?"

She shook her head with a hopeless smile while gently pulling her hand away. "Maybe a little."

He grinned playfully in return.

Everil then turned to the others. "I think I have kept us up long enough. We should probably go to sleep soon so that we are well rested. The trek through the Frostback Mountains will probably be strenuous, but I would prefer it if from now on we avoid unnecessary stops until we reach Orzammar."

"I do not believe sleeping in the middle of the freezing snow would be much fun regardless," Wynne told her.

"Why not?" Alistair smiled at her. "We could all cuddle for warmth. Like one big happy family!"

Wynne let out a tired chuckle. "Now that would be a sight to behold."

Morrigan scoffed. "I would rather freeze to death."

Laliana smiled sweetly at her. "Oh, Morrigan. You don't mean that."

The witch rolled her eyes then turned on her heel to walk back to her corner of the clearing. Everil's gaze followed her, a small smile on her lips, noticing the subtle difference in the other woman's usual attitude. At least she had warmed up to them enough to visit their side of camp once in a while.

xxxxxxx

As expected, the higher they went, the colder it became as the heavy snow covered every slope and boulder. Everil licked her cool lips, her cheeks and nose flushed as the frigid air graced her skin, the blowing wind picking up her coat as she led the others up the steep path. Thankfully the dwarves were underground dwellers, living deep within the Frostback Mountains.

She knew a bit about their culture, though not enough to know what to expect. The dwarves were prideful and stubborn, often compared to the rock within which most lived. Not many of them lived in the surface, and those who did usually used their craftsmanship to become merchants, selling weapons and armor built by their own hand.

But they were not only known for their blacksmithing abilities, they were also known for their resilience in battle. They would become a powerful ally against the darkspawn, provided they honor the treaty.

"So we will be visiting the dwarves…"

Everil turned her head to Shale. "Yes."

"Hm. I don't remember much of how that place looked like. It has been so long."

"How long?"

"I have lived for nearly 800 years, but I could not tell it for certain. Memory begins to fade after so many years."

Everil's brows went up. "800 years..."

"800 incredibly boring years," The golem muttered with irritation as it walked beside her horse. "One can only witness so much before life becomes stale."

"I can imagine… I didn't know golems could live for so long."

"Golems are immortal. We can only... Die... if somehow destroyed. Which is difficult to do." Shale said with a hint of pride.

Everil didn't know if she should feel bad for her or impressed by the newfound knowledge.

"I suppose going back to Orzammar may just give me an idea as to what should be my new purpose. Perhaps even help me remember what it was I was doing before that mage found me."

After several more miles they finally arrived to the outskirts of Orzammar, where small shops with armor and weapons were set up around the square. Further up between the mountain walls were two sets of stairs leading up to a set of large, intricately designed iron gates that she assumed were the entrance to the city.

She slid off her horse and onto the snowy ground, the others following suit. With a tilt of her head to her group, she led them to the nearby stable, where a few other horses were tucked away out of the cold. The dwarf tending the animals approached them at the entrance, visibly counting their horses.

"It will be five sovereigns per night..." He began with a dry tone before his eyes landed on her chest plate, spotting the griffon. "A Grey Warden? I thought you were all dead in these parts."

"We don't die easily," She replied with a subtle smirk, reaching into the small pouch at her belt to pull out the bag of coins. Everil opened it, looking into it before lifting a brow to the dwarf. "And I was under the impression that Grey Wardens were considered honored warriors in Orzammar. You wouldn't happen to give a discount to special guests, now would you, good sir?"

The dwarve's red bushy brows came down to meet at the bridge of his plump nose. "Not unless the king himself says so, and he's dead."

Everil's eyes widened.

"What do you mean dead?" Alistair quietly voiced her question, standing next to her with a look that mirrored hers.

"Dead as in... Dead!" He huffed grumpily. "They say he died out of grief over the death of his sons. It's all everyone's talking about around here. Now hand over the coin unless you want your horses to freeze to death."

The prior shock quickly faded, Everil's expression hardening. "A discount or you lose your job."

"What?" The dwarf's brows shot up. "I already said no, human. There's no king to tell me what to do, so tough luck."

"All right, let me say it a different way." Everil folded her arms, eyeing the dwarf. "Drop the price or those left in power will hear that the stable master insulted King Endrin's memory by refusing the customary hospitality to one of Orzammar's longtime allies."

The dwarf's eyes narrowed dangerously, his nostrils flaring as his brain visibly mauled over her words. He let out a grunt and scratched his bearded chin. "Fine! 4 Sovereigns."

"2 sovereigns and 5 silvers."

The dwarf grumbled. "3 sovereigns and 5 silvers."

"3 sovereigns."

"Fine!" He extended his hand. "It's a deal. 3 sovereigns a night."

"Good man." She smiled sweetly, unfolding her arms and handing him over the coin "Here is three nights worth, in case we are delayed. I expect to find all my horses well fed and taken care of upon our return."

"Yeah, yeah..." He gruffly replied, pocketing the money. "Now just follow the line and pick a spot for them."

The group stepped into the stables, tugging their horses in. In one of the stalls, Everil reached up to take off her stallion's reigns, then smiled lightly as she gently petted his snout.

"The king's death will no doubt complicate things. I don't think they will agree to send their soldiers with us in this situation," She quietly told Alistair as they made their way down the rows of stalls.

"I was just thinking the same thing," He replied and then smiled at her. "But it will work out. You could always use your charms... Like you just did on that dwarf."

She chuckled. "I doubt I am that good, but I suppose it's worth a shot."

xxxxxxx

Sten watched the snow slowly fall, his arms crossed over his broad chest. A hand on his arm made him turn his head down to the Warden, regarding her with the same stony gaze he always carried. It had been difficult to understand he now followed a human, especially a female. But she had managed to somehow gain a degree of his respect, at least enough to regard her as more than just a woman.

Despite the cold look, Everil smiled up at him. "I promised you we would get your sword back. Shall we look around now before we continue on?"

He was slightly surprised. There were obviously more pressing matters at hand, but she was willing take time to seek out something that was of no consequence to her, yet meant everything to him.

"Lead the way," He uttered.

She turned to the others still within the stable. "Can you guys please grab anything we might need from the stash around the horses? Sten and I have something we must do."

"Go on, my love. We'll be waiting for you at the gates." Alistair told her from beside his horse's stall.

Everil smiled tenderly at him. "Thank you, Alistair."

After the Warden and the Qunari disappeared around the corner of the stable doors, Leliana released a soft chuckle towards the other Warden.

Alistair gave her a questioning look. "What?"

"You two are adorable," She replied with a smile. "I like watching you."

He awkwardly reached up to scratch the back of his neck. "Uhm... thanks?"

"I happen to think they are utterly nauseating," Morrigan muttered, her nose curled in disust, her hands stashing lyrium potions in her cross body bag.

"Oh come on, Morrigan," Leliana pouted at her. "How could you think that? Surely you've been in love before."

The witch gave her an odd look and then she began to laugh in amusement, shaking her head and returning to her task as Leliana stared with a troubled frown.

Alistair folded his arms next to the former nun. "You obviously don't know her very well."

xxxxxxx

After looking around the square, Sten and Everil finally arrived to the last of the weapon shops. She absently wrapped her hooded cloak around herself, shivering involuntary as she eyed the items in display. They had asked the other shops about the sword, but they hadn't had answers. And she could tell easily they were not lying, for they seemed genuinely surprised upon seeing her towering friend.

This dwarf however didn't seem the least bit shocked, though he was obviously intimidated by the qunari's size.

"Looking for something in particular, Warden?" Asked the shop owner, who shifted uncomfortably under her scrutinizing stare.

"I am, in fact," She replied firmly. "My friend here lost his weapon a while back. Dwyn from Redcliffe told us you have it. Is this still true?"

He swallowed. "Dwyn? The sodded liar. Why would I want a sword that big?"

She chuckled as she crossed her arms. "I never said it was a sword."

He grumbled. "I... assumed."

"Come now. There is no point in hiding it any longer." She tilted her head, her smile widening.

The dwarf ran a hand over his chin. "If... I still had it… what would you offer in exchange?"

She tapped her index finger to her arm. "Hmm... Let's see... Does keeping the qunari from crushing you before all these people sound like a fair trade to you?"

He cleared his throat, glancing towards the large man's severe expression. "Point... taken."

He reached under his table, digging through whatever it was he had underneath before producing a large blade, heavily dropping it upon it.

Sten's eyes quickly widened, his arms unwrapping from his chest as he took a step towards it. Everil gazed up at him, watching him slowly reach towards it.

His fingers wrapped around the hilt and his muscles tensed as he lifted the familiar weight of the blade.

"I take it that is it?" She asked with a half-smile.

He brought it up to inspect it, noticing the familiar pattern on the hilt. For the first time in their long journey, Sten shifted his gaze down at her and smiled. "Yes."

"Perfect. Give me the one I gave you."

Sten nodded and did as she said, handing her over the blade he had been using up until now. She took it then turned to look at the dwarf before placing it on the table along with a few coins. "This should cover any expenses you incurred bringing the sword here."

"Thank you," The dwarf replied with a little surprise, picking up the coin from the counter. He realized then that her earlier talk had been to force him to reveal the sword and take away his ability to set a price, making the transaction completely on her terms. Smart woman...

Everil then gazed up to Sten. "Let us go meet with the others."

"Wait."

She paused mid step and craned her head up at the towering man. "Yes?"

Sten secured the blade behind his back, then stepped closer. "You have led me with honor and respect, when others would have no doubt exploited my situation. And now you have kept your word to me, something not many of your kind do. You returned Asala to me, restoring my life as a warrior and my honor as a qunari." He extended his hand, a gesture that was human in origin, but crossed the bridge between their kind. "Know that you have my respect and that I will fight for you and alongside you with pride, Kadan."

Everil gave his hand a firm shake, a small smile on her lips. "Thank you, Sten. I'm glad I was able to help."

They both then made their way towards the city gates, where from a distance she could see the rest of her group approaching, along with another group of men.

xxxxxxx

Alistair climbed up the steps towards the gates, followed by the remainder of their group. He eyed the three men currently talking with the guard, who were well armed for simple travelers.

"What do you mean the gates are closed?" One of the men on the other group snapped to the guard, his armored fingers curling into fists.

"The king is dead. We are not permitted to let outsiders in until a new king is chosen." The dwarf replied with a gruff voice, glaring up at the man.

"You don't understand. I am Imrek, messenger to the new King of Ferelden. I have come to deliver a message on King Loghain's behalf. It would be incredibly disrespectful of you to deny me entrance."

The two men turned their attention to Alistair and the others as they made their way to them.

The dwarf scowled. "More surfacers seeking to enter? Just what is it that's bringing you people here?"

Alistair gave the dwarf a subtle bow of his head, speaking firmly. "We're here on Grey Warden business. My friends and I—"

"Grey Wardens?" Imrek's eyes narrowed towards him. "You're the ones who killed King Cailan and now wander around slandering King Loghain's name!"

Alistair revealed his sword from under his hooded cloak, casually resting his hand on the hilt while regarding the man with a stern gaze. "We didn't kill King Cailan, Loghain did. But since you won't believe us, and we're not interested in fighting… How about you pretend we're not here in the same way you pretend Loghain is king?"

Zevran snickered behind him. "Ouch..."

"You…dare!" The man's threatening look deepened, his hand moving to his sword.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

They all shifted their gaze to Everil as she approached them from the opposite side to Alistair, her hair flowing with the mountain breeze as she climbed the steps.

"Another Warden?" One of the men uttered with a scowl.

"I didn't think they made them female Wardens that pretty," The other numbly muttered.

Imrek turned his glare to her. "I heard the female was the leader, and that she was the one who killed Teyrn Howe's men at The Pearl. How convenient you're all here."

Sensing the hostility in the air, the guard gruffly interjected. "All right, if you're all about to fight, take it off my steps. I don't want blood on the stone."

"It will not come to that," Everil calmly told the dwarf, then stopped just two steps from the messenger, completely unfazed by his threatening look. She crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her chin. "As you said, I single handedly killed three of Howe's knights in Denerim. In your case, however, you are outnumbered. So be smart and weigh your odds. We wish to avoid wasting energy fighting you after our long journey here."

She could see his hard gaze waver, but he stubbornly retained his posture. "No… I will eliminate all who oppose my king!" His eyes still trained on her, he made for his sword, but in a flash of silver her dagger was at his neck, her free hand on his wrist, keeping him from completely drawing the blade.

He froze in place, not daring to move as he gazed down at her sharp blue eyes. His eyes then slowly moved to Alistair, who had just as swiftly drawn his sword, pressing the tip against cheek just enough to draw a drop of blood. And the dangerous look upon the male Warden's eyes told him he made a huge mistake.

Meanwhile Sten had already pinned the other enemies with his greatsword, while Leliana aimed her arrows at them.

"Let's try this again, shall we?" Everil spoke evenly. "Walk away with your life or die here and now. Your choice."

He swallowed at her cold tone, realizing she was serious. "All right… We stand down."

"Good choice." She lowered her weapon, the others slowly doing the same.

"Let's go. We should report back to Denerim," He told his men, walking past them and down the steps. His two guards went after him, sending angry glances towards them.

The guard scoffed. "Well… at least I won't have any cleaning to do at the end of my shift."

She walked up to him. "We need to go inside."

He sighed. "Like I said. I'm not supposed to let any outsiders in until the issue with the crown is resolved."

"We need the help of the dwarves against the Blight and we have treaties that obligate you to provide it," She said firmly, standing her ground as she handed him the scroll.

He gruffly opened it, eyed the seal upon it and then rolled it up. "All right, this is the king's seal. You may come in."

"Thank you," She said with a smile before nodding to the others.

The guard opened the large doors for them and watched them walk in, mumbling something about stubborn women.

xxxxxxx

They entered through a large chamber, the massive statues of several dwarves holding weapons of their trait lining the walls. Dwarves didn't hold the same religion the people of Ferelden did. Instead of venerating the Maker and his earthly wife, they adored their ancestors as gods. Plaques that read paragon marked each statue, along with their names and details of their backgrounds. Paragons were considered to be living ancestors, treated in a similar manner as they would treat a god. Chosen for their extraordinary contributions to their society, their voices were considered of great significance, sometimes used to make decisions for the sake of their people.

Upon crossing the hall they opened the next doors to the city, and the size of it nearly taking her breath away. The rough sketches she had seen of the inside of the city did no justice to how large it was. Rivers of molten metal lit up the gigantic chamber, buildings of stone standing against the walls.

Distant arguing had them walking towards it to find two groups bickering ahead.

"The rightful King is Prince Bhelen!" One of the dwarves yelled, shoving another from the other group.

"That murderer has no business in the throne! Lord Harrowmont was handpicked by the king, he should be the one wearing the crown!"

"You dare disrespect our prince!" One of the dwarves lashed out with their axe, cutting down one from the other group.

Everil's eyes widened as blood splattered the stone floor, before a guard ran up to separate the two factions, pointing his own weapon at the shifting men.

"That's enough!"

Bhelen's supporters took a step back, pointing their weapons to their adversaries. "This isn't over Harrowmont!"

They watched them scatter, leaving the grumbling guard.

"Charming fellows, aren't they?" Zevran commented dryly.

The guard then turned his attention to the newcomers. "Grey Wardens? I thought all visitors were to be kept out of Orzammar until further notice… But I suppose you are all the exception."

She walked up to him. "Were those two the candidates for the crown? One of them is the Prince, why not let him inherit it?"

"You definitely just got here…" The guard replied with a sigh. "Things are not the same here as they are in the surface, in case you haven't noticed. We don't put so much weight on royal blood since our decisions are made by the people and the Assembly. This means anyone they choose can be king if they have their favor."

"Oh... I suppose it all makes sense now," Everil said, wondering why she hadn't remembered that part of dwarven culture.

"And another reason we didn't just give Bhelen the throne in a silver platter is because most think the king's sons were killed by him during an excursion into the deep roads. He of course claims he didn't kill them, but when your own father doesn't trust you with the crown…"

"I take it that's where Harrowmont comes in."

"He says the king picked him on his deathbed. I'm inclined to believe him, since he and the king were close friends." He shrugged and crossed his arms with a scowl "But that ain't my choice and at this point I don't care who gets the crown. I just hope the Assembly will sort this sodded problem out soon before those idiots turn my streets into a battleground."

"I see…" She frowned, taking in all the information she could. "So the Assembly would be the one to talk to regarding our request for help with the Blight?"

"I heard there was one… But I didn't think it was true. Yes, they would be the ones making that decision now. You can find them in the Diamond Quarter. That way." He pointed to the right. "But I have to warn you, Warden… I doubt they'll agree to it at the moment."

Everil released a soft breath. "Why is that? Isn't the Blight a threat to you, as well?"

The dwarf shrugged. "It is, but you have to understand that while you surfacers only have to fight them when they break out into the surface, we're constantly dealing with the darkspawn threat. A few more darkspawn attacking is not going to be something we would consider top priority."

"Great..." She turned to Alistair, who was standing beside her, listening to the conversation. "I suppose we will speak with the Assembly and see what our options are."

"Sounds like that's all we can do for now," He replied with a troubled look, then shifted his attention to the dwarf. "We might need room and board while we figure things out. Is there an inn around here?"

"Yes, you will come across it if you go that way." He said, pointing to the left.

"Got it. Thanks."

As they moved to walk away, the dwarf added. "And Wardens…"

Both turned to him.

"You may be Grey Wardens, but don't cause me any trouble. Laws still apply to you around here."

Everil smiled at the stern words. "Understood."

As they made their way through the city she could tell that the conflict between the two candidates was common knowledge, as the criers announced the murder of the same man they had just witnessed get killed.

Upon finding their inn and paying for their rooms Everil dropped off her things by her bed. Unlike outside, it was warm in Orzammar so she slid off her winter cloak and her cold weather gear. She had expected there would be hurdles in their task to get the dwarven support, but she hadn't thought the obstacle would be as big as it was. She knew her fair share about politics and how leaders managed their military, but getting a kingdom without a king to help against a nearly impossible task was something completely new and difficult.

A knock on her door snapped her out of her thoughts while Magnus lifted his ears in curiosity.

"Come in," She called as she knelt by her things.

Alistair opened the door, giving her a small smile. "Everyone dropped off their things. We can get going when you're ready."

"Ah good. Thank you." Everil rummaged through her bag, grabbing the treaty and a couple of items they might need if trouble were to come up. As she did he stepped in, silently watching her get ready.

She gazed up from her bag, glancing towards her hound and then to him. "I think just the three of us will do for now. The others can remain here and rest. No sense on all of us being tired."

"I guess that's a good idea," He looked around the room, taking in the dwarven runes and objects decorating the walls. "Hey… I just noticed we all have our own rooms this time."

"Yes," She said and then stood to walk up to him. "We could afford it thanks to Teagan's additional help in our last visit to Redcliffe… and my great coin management abilities."

He looked at her with a teasing smile as he gently took her hand in his. "Are you sure? Those few silvers a night for my room may have been a bit wasteful."

"Is that so…" She uttered with a knowing smile, her eyes meeting his loving gaze.

He leaned down to brush his lips over hers, gently cupping her cheek with his other hand. "Yes… I think we should get the coin back on our way out. I wouldn't want for us to need it and not have it later."

She leaned into his touch. "And where will you stay, exactly?"

"I'll go sleep with the horses."

She laughed. "Really? I think you're only trying to find an excuse to sneak into my room."

He let out a chuckle of his own. "Aw… you got me. And here I thought my master plan was flawless."

"You're not as subtle as you think." She softly kissed his lips.

"Can't blame me for trying." He replied quietly before pressing his lips to hers, wrapping his arms around her waist as he deepened the kiss.

Everil let out a soft moan against his lips, her arms snaking over his shoulders, her fingers trailing up to his hair. Her heart began to race again as their tongues danced in an agonizing pace, passionately twirling against each other. She felt his hands slowly make their way down her back, then down to grab onto her leather-bound backside. She whimpered, his firm grip drawing that familiar yearning between her legs.

She reluctantly pulled back, breathing heavily while struggling to calm her racing heart. "Alistair…"

"Yes…?" He whispered and leaned his forehead against hers.

"We should… go get the coin back."

A corner of his lips went up. "Just lead the way..."

xxxxxxx

Everil, her hound and Alistair made their way through the city towards were they were told the Assembly was located. When they entered they were greeted by one of the Assembly members. The old dwarf who led them into the room where they were all gathering to discuss the election of the next king.

She stood cross armed by the entrance of the room, witnessing the heated arguments between the Assembly members before a recess was called, their bickering solving nothing and leaving the decision up in the air until further notice.

"Our apologies, Wardens… it seems you have come at an inopportune time." The old dwarf told them, looking up at them with an apologetic gaze.

"No kidding…" Alistair replied with a dry tone.

"At this point whatever matter you have will have to wait until a new king is crowned. I am sorry," The dwarf said before he walked away, leaving them standing in the Assembly hall.

Everil shook her head irritably and then turned to her fellow Warden. "We can't simply give up. There must be someone here we can approach for help with the Blight."

"But who?" He replied with a troubled frown, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Quite the problem you have there, Wardens. Perhaps I can help."

Their eyes shifted to a dwarf casually leaning against a nearby wall, running a hand over his voluptuous dark beard. Now that he had their attention, he pushed himself off his resting position, walking up to them.

"And you are…" Everil prompted with a scrutinizing look.

"Dulin Forender, Lord Harrowmont's top lieutenant. A pleasure Wardens." He offered his hand for a handshake.

She shook it, then Alistair did the same.

She had the feeling that meeting him out here was no accident. "So… you mentioned you could help us?"

He folded his arms behind his back, gazing up at them. "Lord Harrowmont heard of your predicament and he believes you can both benefit from an arrangement."

Alistair lifted a brow to the dwarf. "If your lord thinks we can help him, why isn't he asking us himself?"

"As you have no doubt noticed in your short time here, it has become quite dangerous for his lordship to meet personally with anyone who has not properly earned his trust. I hope you can understand that."

Everil frowned. "I suppose we will have to... What does he propose we do?"

"A Proving will be held tonight, where some of the best fighters in Orzammar will participate. He wishes for you to fight in his name and demonstrate your loyalty to him before meeting with you in person."

"Fight in his name…" She echoed, folding her arms. "Before we consider doing this… Why should we support Lord Harrowmont over the prince?"

Dulin ran a hand over his thick beard, his other arm remaining at his back. "You saw Bhelen when you came into the city… he is a hot headed, self-important fool. His own father denied him the right to the throne, bringing forth his best friend as his chosen successor. That should tell you enough about why my lord is the best choice."

She and Alistair exchanged a glance. This was no ordinary choice they were making. They were about to help crown a new king, one that would rule over Orzammar and its people for generations.

She looked down at the dwarf, hiding her doubts behind resolute eyes. "Can you give us a moment?"

Dulin nodded. "Of course."

She motioned for her fellow Warden to follow, taking a few steps to the side.

"Grey Wardens are supposed to be neutral. We're not supposed to go around choosing kings and meddling in politics," Alistair began vehemently.

"I know… But we don't have much of a choice in this case. We still need their help against the Blight."

He let out a frustrated breath. "Have I ever told you how much I hate making big decisions?"

"You said once that Grey Wardens are also known for breaking all rules when desperate times called for it," She continued, and the unwavering look in her eyes confirmed she had made her choice.

"Well we are pretty desperate…" He gave her a half smile. "All right then… Guess we'll just have to hope this Lord Harrowmont keeps his word after we're done."

"He will. I will make sure of it," She replied, giving him a pat on the arm before turning to walk back to the candidate's representative.

Alistair watched the two talk and shake hands one more time to seal the deal. He didn't like going against Duncan's teachings, but he also knew his mentor would have likely done the same in their shoes.