Dragon Heart

by Roc Lammergeier

What really happened to Revan after she left for the Unknown Regions? Is there a bigger threat than the Emperor lurking on the backwater planet of Thedas? The author's take on things. Rated M for violence and suggestive themes.

21. Act XX Part II

Act XX: Imperial Highway

Part II

Rose

Traveling with Arl Eamon was far different from how they had been traveling for the past several months. First off, they had horses. Rose had ridden much in her youth, but sitting in a saddle for hours on end was far different from the stern lessons from her father's own horsemaster. She was constantly sore after the first day on the road. And they were going far slower than they could have gone, on account of the arl and his wife, who had elected to use a carriage. The arl was still recovering physically from being poisoned, so it was understandable. Wynne assured Rose than Eamon would be fit again in short order, but his age made recovery slower. She was content with that. They would have to wait for the other nobles to arrive from all corners of Ferelden anyway. And then, they had accommodations. The arl had significant prestige, so they did not have to avoid towns and taverns on account of being fugitives. For the first time in a long time, she had a bed. A proper, Ferelden bed, not the stone slabs that the dwarves used. Some were just straw stuffed in a sack, but it was a huge improvement from a bedroll laid on the cold ground. If she never had to sleep on the ground again, it would be too soon. Rose swore her back was permanently deformed from the experience.

Her companions' moods were slowly lifting as well. Alistair was catching up with Eamon, and their relationship seemed to have recovered from the trauma of Alistair leaving for the Chantry all those years ago; their conversations served to distract him from his grief. Leliana, who had taken Revan's death harder than Rose had expected, had finally resumed singing after one of Eamon's guards had asked her for a song. Sten had stopped sulking, even though he was still somewhat taciturn; he had given her a smile, however, when she had given him some cookies she had received from one of the village matrons. Oghren had started, very slowly, opening up, which was helped by a shared bottle of port from Eamon's cellars. Morrigan still had her nose in her grimoire when she wasn't flying overhead as a bird of prey. Alistair kept complaining about her swooping down to pester his mount while he was riding. Wynne had been saddened by the news of Revan's death, but she had recovered rather quickly, only sagely saying, "Death comes for us all." But Wynne would know, considering she had died once already. Shayle still felt guilty about not having observed the event, but her mind had turned to sorting out her past. Jowan just seemed happy to be alive, though he kept separate from the others. The only one who was still withdrawn was Zevran. Rose realized she had grown used to Zevran's quips and flirtation, and his silence was unnerving. Everyone seemed to give him a wide berth, except for Sten and Shayle. They seemed content with the silence.

Rose felt oddly nervous when Denerim's skyline came into view. Fort Drakon's central tower rose sharply in the air, outshining the Chantry's spires and the royal palace's crenellations. The city was massive, and the walls loomed high overhead as they approached. The buzzing of people milling about intermingled with the sounds of dogs barking and wheels rolling on rutted streets. The smell of spices and food and perfume intermingled with more natural, less pleasing aromas and wafted on the sea breeze. The soldiers on the walls eyed them suspiciously as the mounted party passed through the city gates and wound their way to the Palace District, where Arl Eamon owned an estate. Fortunately, the city guards knew not to interfere with Arl Eamon and his entourage, even if Grey Wardens were in their midst. It helped that some of the city guard, notably a few of the sergeants, were supporters of the Grey Wardens. Some of the citizens of the city stopped and gawked; apparently, news about Rose and her companions had spread. There were whispers and stares as they passed. A little girl held out a flower to Rose as she rode past. An old man spit at her horse's hooves. It was a relief when they finally reached the estate, to be met by grooms who took the horses and butlers who took their bags.

Alistair sidled up to her after dismounting and extended a hand. "Come on! I want to give you the tour!"

Rose smiled affably and took his hand. He led her through the estate while Eamon and the rest were mingling in the courtyard, Fuzzywuggins at her heels. He pointed out all the places he used to hide and play, and all the things that had changed. He was particularly perturbed about the dining room. Despite having been gone so long, it seemed like he knew the place intimately. Rose had no problem imagining him as a boy, running through the halls. She leaned against him as he talked and told her stories from his childhood. His had been so different from hers, and yet, so similar at the same time. But her father had always been reluctant to take her to Denerim, preferring to take Fergus instead. She had been bitter at the time, but her mother had always made her feel better by teaching her swordplay or taking her sailing.

They reconvened in the great hall, where the seneschal was assigning rooms. Eamon and Isolde had already retired to their own suites, to recover from the long journey. Rose's room was next to Alistair's – she suspected that was Eamon's doing – but the only thing she wanted at that moment was a long soak in a tub to wash the grime of the road off. But first, she saw to everyone else, making sure they found their rooms and were settling in. Wynne clicked her tongue at the young Warden's mothering, but after Revan's adventures in Orzammar, she wanted to make sure that no one was getting into trouble. Finally, she asked a servant to draw her a bath and she settled into the quickly cooling water. Eamon's manor was spacious, and furnished with sturdy Ferelden décor. Her favorite piece was the copper tub she was currently soaking it, but she was confident that the tub would quickly be overtaken by the four-post down-stuffed bed she had been eyeing since she had peered into the room. After scrubbing her skin pink and washing her hair until it was silky, she wrapped the provided linen towel around herself and investigated the wardrobe. Apparently, Eamon had written ahead, because the wardrobe was stuffed with clothes. Surprised, Rose took out one outfit. It was a dress, in the modern Ferelden style. She searched the room for a mirror, and spotted a vanity against one of the walls. She walked over and held the dress up against her chest as Fuzzywuggins watched from the bed. The dress was different shades of green, and so worked with her stark hair. But as she examined her appearance, she paused. Was that her face? She gingerly touched it. Her cheekbones were pronounced, all traces of the baby fat she had left Highever with having vanished. Her eyes were ringed darkly from stress and sleep deprivation. The past months had taken their toll.

"Admiring yourself?" Alistair commented as he snuck up on her from behind. He wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin in the hollow between her neck and shoulder. "I can't say I blame you. I love admiring you."

Rose smiled. "Just questioning when these bags under my eyes appeared."

Alistair raised an eyebrow comically, regarding her in the mirror. "Huh. Never noticed. I guess I was just occupied with…other things about you."

"Uh huh," she eyed him. "Other things. It's the freckles, isn't it?"

"Yes, the freckles," he responded flatly. Only then did he notice the dress she was holding. "Oh, that's nice."

"Really? Should I try it on?" Rose held it up once again.

In her ear, he whispered, "I'd rather you leave it off."

The words sent a shiver down her spine, but she managed to control her response. How did he manage to make her so giddy? She glanced at him from the corner of her eyes. "Much as I would love to, my dearest, I have work to do."

He pouted. "Already? But we just got here."

"I know," she sighed, already exhausted, "but my father's banns are already here. I need to speak with them."

Alistair frowned, but he didn't protest. He released her from his grasp. "I suppose I can go make myself useful…somewhere…"

"You could come with me," she pointed out.

His brow furrowed. "I could?"

"Sure," she smiled at him. "It would do them good to see the man they are supporting."

That gave Alistair pause. He was so used to being insignificant, it was quite the paradigm shift for him to suddenly be the center of attention. He was having a hard time getting used to it. "I suppose if Eamon agrees…though I might screw it up for you. I have a tendency to rankle nobles."

"I thought you rankled Chantry Sisters?" Rose joked.

"To be honest, there's not much of a difference," he confided.

"You'll do fine, Alistair," she assured him, resting a hand on his arm. "Just be yourself."

He frowned at her. "Are we still joking? Did you miss the part about me rankling nobles? They really don't like me."

She laughed. "Trust me. I know these men and women. It will be fine. Now, go change into something more presentable and I'll meet you at Eamon's study."

He kissed her deeply before departing, smelling of clean soap with a hint of musk. She watched him go wistfully. He had started moving with confidence in the past few weeks, having been affirmed that he was actually capable, and it made him all the more attractive. She shook her head to clear her mind and changed into the dress. Alistair was waiting for her at Eamon's study, having changed into a dashing, cut doublet. She would have to thank Eamon for his thoughtfulness.

As she suspected, Eamon fully agreed to her proposal to take Alistair with her to meet the banns. This would provide some exposure for him in a somewhat safe environment. Though Rose was sure her father's vassals were still loyal to the Cousland family, some may have fallen to Howe's lies. First was Bann Alfstanna Eremon, bann of the Waking Seas. Rose had met her before, when she had come to swear fealty to Rose's father after Alfstanna's brother had abdicated to her, instead leaving to become a Templar. She was a good woman, and an honest one. She received Rose and Alistair as warmly as could be expected, given the circumstances. Her bannorn had been overrun by refugees from the south, fleeing the Blight. She had expressed sympathies for Rose's parents passing, and had chuckled despite herself at Alistair's quips, going so far as to ask Rose if the man was available when he wasn't paying attention.

Next on the list was Bann Parth. The man was bann of Wayshire, a small region just outside of Edgehall on the western frontier. The man was perpetually angry, as his family had been murdered by the Orlesians during the rebellion but were never avenged. Alistair empathized with the man, and Rose convinced him that his anger was best vented on the darkspawn, and that Alistair was their best hope for facing the horde. She also made a vague promise to help him restore his holdings as part of the reconstruction efforts after the Blight; his hold had never fully recovered from the occupation.

The last on their list for the day was the hardest. Bann Loren. His wife and son had been at Castle Cousland when Howe had sacked it, and they had counted amongst the dead. The man was known for being fickle, but at least Lady Landra had kept him in line. He greeted Rose hollowly, seemingly going through the motions as he invited them in and listened to their words. Rose saw the grief in his eyes. She vowed vengeance against Howe, and he nodded in agreement, but he seemed infinitely tired, more interested in mourning than getting revenge. They left without a promise of his support, but Rose suspected the man would back them, especially given their promises of justice. Rose just hoped he would be present enough to actually vote.

Rose decided, after their meeting with Bann Loren, that she had had enough for one day. She still felt mildly responsible for Dairren's death. They made their way back to Eamon's estate sluggishly, feeling the weight of the day upon them. The arl was waiting for them in the foyer, conversing with his steward. He sent the man away as they approached. The arl was looking stronger every day, and today had elected not to use his cane. He stood proudly.

"How was the first round of meetings?" Eamon greeted them.

Rose grimaced. "Taxing, but we have some allies in the court. I suspect, however, that some of the other banns will be rather more difficult to convince."

Eamon stroked his beard in thought. "This is at least some good news. You should know, our arrival in the city has spread quickly. I have already received requests from a half dozen nobles to meet with me personally, and a dozen more to meet you, Alistair. Many of them have questions about you. There is also the matter of –"

Eamon was cut off by the sound of the doors to the hall opening. The three glanced toward the door, and Rose felt her hand move instinctively to her where her sword would have hung. She snarled, suddenly wishing she had worn her armor instead of a dress. Loghain marched, glowering, down the aisle, flanked on one side by a female knight that Rose had learned was his second and leader of Maric's Shield, Ser Cauthrien, and on the other side by Rendon Howe himself. Lacking a dagger on her person, she instead glared daggers at him and thought it a poor substitute.

As Loghain approached, Eamon turned casually toward him. "Loghain. This is…an honor, that the regent would find time to greet me personally."

The teyrn's face seemed set in a permanent scowl. "How could I not welcome a man so important as to call every lord in Ferelden away from his estates while a Blight claws at our land?"

Eamon took the blow in stride. "The Blight is why I'm here. With Cailan dead, Ferelden must have a king to lead it against the darkspawn."

"Ferelden has a strong leader: its queen," Loghain pointed out. "And I lead her armies."

Rose could barely contain her rage. "Considering Ostagar, perhaps we need a better general."

Loghain seemed to notice her for the first time. "Ah, the Grey Warden recruit. I thought we might meet again. You have my sympathies on what happened to your order. It is unfortunate that they chose to turn against Ferelden."

Rose clenched her fist, trying to convince herself that it wasn't worth decking him in the face in front of witnesses. Fuzzywuggins whined softly at her heels. She felt Alistair trying to do the same next to her. The audacity of this man to twist the truth in front of those who had witnessed the events! "I don't accept the sympathies of deserters and regicides."

"You should curb your tongue," Loghain said hotly, anger boiling in his eyes. Good, let him make the first move. "This is my city, and no safe place to speak treason. For anyone." The general turned his attention away from Rose and back to the arl. "There is talk that your illness left you feeble, Eamon. Some worry that you may no longer be fit to advise Ferelden."

The barb worked. Eamon crossed his arms and glowered at the teyrn. "'Illness'? Why not call your poison by its true name? Not everyone at the Landsmeet will cast aside their loyalties as easily as you and these…sycophants."

"How long you've been from court, Eamon!" Loghain smiled cruelly. "Don't you recognize Rendon Howe, arl of Amaranthine, and teyrn of Highever?"

Howe spoke up from his position behind Loghain. "And current arl of Denerim, after Urien's unfortunate fate at Ostagar. Truly, it is an embarrassment of riches."

The mere sound of his voice made her blood boil. It was a good thing she was unarmed, because her sword would have been rammed in his gullet the moment Loghain had proclaimed him the teyrn of Highever. She debated sicking Fuzzywuggins on him, but thought better of it. Her Mabari did not need to debase himself by ripping out this cretin's throat.

"I demand blood rights," Rose said, her voice surprisingly cold as she met Howe's eyes. "This man murdered my family."

"You have no rights!" Howe proclaimed. "Your family surrendered them when I revealed them to be traitors to the king."

"Is that how you justified Lady Landra's death, as well?" Rose spit back. "I believe they still hang murders and turncoats at the Landsmeet."

"You are either very bold or very stupid to threaten the teyrn before witnesses," Ser Cauthiren warned her.

"Enough, Cauthrien," Loghain turned to his lieutenant. For a moment, he looked weary and worn. "This is not the time or place." He turned back to Eamon. "I had hoped to talk you down from this rash course, Eamon. Our people are frightened; our king is dead. Our lands are under siege. We must be united now, if we are to endure this crisis. Your own sister, Queen Rowan, fought tirelessly to see Ferelden restored. Would you see her work destroyed? You divide our nation and weaken our efforts against the Blight with your selfish ambitions to the throne."

"Funny, those were the very words I was going to say to you," Rose growled.

He glared hatefully at her. "I was not talking to you."

"I cannot forgive what you've done, Loghain," Eamon sighed. "Perhaps the Maker can, but not I. Our people deserve a king of the Theirin bloodline. Alistair will be the one to lead us to victory in this Blight."

"Oh, is that all I have to do?" Alistair asked sarcastically. "No pressure…"

"The emperor of Orlais also thought I could not bring him down. Expect no more mercy than I showed him," Loghain threatened the arl. "There is nothing I would not do for my homeland."

Rose was struck by his words as he turned sharply on his heel and left in a rage. They were strikingly similar to the justifications Revan had used for why she had accepted Urthemiel's deal, justifications she had admitted were wrong. Rose wished he could see the pain and suffering he was inflicting by his actions, but she suspected, from the flashes of introspection in his eyes, that he already knew.

Eamon watched the trio leave before addressing Rose and Alistair. "Well that was…bracing. I didn't expect Loghain to show himself quite so soon."

"I told you before that I was going to kill Howe," she reminded him, "and I am not going to let him walk free."

"I would not ask you to," Eamon assured her. "But bear in mind that he will be well-protected by his alliance with Loghain. He always seemed the kind of man who enjoyed kicking stray dogs. I would not have thought Loghain would trust him." Eamon paced. "We need eyes and ears in the city. Loghain has been here for months. The root of his schemes must begin here. The sooner we find them, the better we can turn them to our advantage. But in the meantime, there is an urgent matter we need to discuss. Please, come with me to my sitting room."

Rose furrowed her brow and exchanged a look with Alistair, but he merely shrugged his shoulders. They followed Eamon upstairs to his chambers. Inside his sitting room, pacing nervously by the fire, was a black-haired elf in a fine satin dress. She looked anxious. The elf stopped pacing at their arrival and scanned Rose and Alistair with a tilt of her head.

"Wardens, this is Erlina," Eamon closed the door. "She's –"

"I am Queen Anora's handmaiden," Erlina interrupted. She had a thick Orlesian accent. "She sent me here to ask for your help."

Rose raised an eyebrow. Amused, Eamon commented, "Or perhaps the young lady prefers to speak for herself."

"And why would Queen Anora as for our help?" Rose crossed her arms, skeptical.

"The queen, she is in a difficult position," Erlina tried to explain. "She loved her husband, no? And trusted her father to protect him. When he returns with no king and only dark rumors, what is she to think? She worries, no? But when she tries to speak with him, he does not answer. He tells her 'not to trouble herself'."

Rose looked at Alistair. This sounded too good to be true. Was Anora actually on their side? She remained skeptical. "So she would rather side with us than her husband's murderer?"

Erlina cringed. "My queen suspects she cannot trust her father. And Loghain, he is very subtle, no? But Rendon Howe, he is privy to all the secrets, and…not so subtle. So she goes to Howe. A visit from the queen to the new arl of Denerim is only a matter of courtesy. And she demands answers."

"Let me guess: it went very poorly," Rose said dryly.

"He calls her every sort of name, 'traitor' being the kindest, and locks her in a guest room," the handmaiden confirmed.

Ah. So there was the problem. "Loghain allowed this?"

"King Cailan was like a son to him, and Loghain left him to die. Does he love Anora more? Who can say?" Erlina was bitter. "I think…her life is in danger. I heard Howe say she would be a greater ally dead than alive. Especially if her death could be blamed on Arl Eamon."

That was alarming. Eamon looked perturbed. Rose considered the consequences. "Would Loghain kill his own daughter just to frame Eamon?"

Eamon seemed nervous at being implicated in a murder. "We may have no choice but to trust Anora. The queen is well-loved. If Loghain succeeded on pinning her death on me…I'm not sure that's a risk we can afford to take."

Rose thought that his words were spoken out of fear, but she could see the logic behind it. Everyone assumed that Eamon was the driving force behind Alistair's bid for the throne, and if Eamon was implicated in her murder, they would have no chance at the Landsmeet. But Rose was still skeptical. Anora was Loghain's daughter. It seemed too convenient for her to turn on him. But then again, they didn't have much of a choice.

"Then we must help," Rose conceded.

Erlina seemed relieved. "I have some uniforms. Arl Howe hires so many new guards every day, a few more will not cause much stir. I will show you to the servant's entrance. We must slip in and out with my queen before anyone is the wiser. I will go ahead to Howe's estate. Meet me there as soon as you can."

The girl practically ran out of the room. Rose waited a span of heartbeats to ensure she was gone before voicing her opinions. Fuzzywuggins leaned comfortingly against her leg. "I don't like this. It feels too convenient."

"I agree," Alistair chimed in, "but if this is a trap, we are already in it, aren't we? They'll kill her and frame us if we don't go, but they might kill us and frame us regardless if we do go."

"Which is why you are not going," she told him. He looked ready to protest, but she cut him off. "Right now, you are the most important person here. If you get killed, we don't stand a chance."

"And what about you?" Alistair asked pointedly.

She gave him a sad smile. "I'm expendable. As long as you live, we still have a Warden, and we still have a king."

He wasn't particularly happy with the response, but Rose's expression kept him from complaining more.

"Be cautious," Eamon advised her. "Howe is paranoid, and will have extra security. Don't do anything brash."

Rose acknowledged the advice and left, her faithful Mabari in tow, and collected Leliana and Morrigan. They were the most likely of their party to blend in with a group of guards; Howe would never hire an elf like Zevran or a dwarf like Oghren, Wynne was too old, and Sten stood out too much. Nothing needed to be said about Shayle. The two women eyed each other, but agreed with Rose's decision. Their animosity toward each other had faded considerably during their travels. With a quick farewell to Eamon and Alistair, they departed for the arl of Denerim's estate.

Much like the other estates Rose had seen in Denerim's Palace District, the arl of Denerim's manor was a sprawling complex hidden behind thick stone walls to keep the rabble out. However, out of all the noble's properties, this was the largest, with the exception of the Royal Palace itself. As the group approached the grounds, they encountered a group of citizens gathered outside the wooden gates that led into the main hall. They were varied, some dressed in clothes denoting moderate wealth – clothes belonging to merchants or skilled craftsmen. Mostly, there were drab peasants, all angrily clamoring to get in. Several guards in similar armor to their own stood between them and the doors, serving as a barrier. The one in the center, with the gorget denoting his rank as lieutenant, addressed the disgruntled crowd.

"For the hundredth time," the lieutenant sounded exasperated, "his lordship isn't seeing anyone. You'll have to come back tomorrow."

The crowd did not seem to like this, and the murmuring grew louder. Rose didn't feel much like getting roped into a riot, and she anxiously scanned for Erlina. After a minute, Morrigan spotted her standing inconspicuously near a wagon that had been used to haul supplies to the estate, away from the crowd and in the shadow of the estate's walls. Rose lowered her visor and acted like she was leading a patrol. Leliana and Morrigan fell into step behind her, and Fuzzywuggins stayed dutifully by her side. They ducked into the shadows. Erlina looked relieved to see them. She must have had doubts the Grey Wardens would actually help.

The elf didn't waste time on pleasantries. "The servant's entrance is on the other side of the house," she indicated. "We must slip past this crowd to reach it. We will have to be very careful; Arl Howe is inside."

Rose felt a familiar rage boil within her. "Howe is here?" Fuzzywuggins growled threateningly, sensing his master's mood.

"Yes," Erlina affirmed. "And wherever he goes, a great many guards go with him."

In the background, the crowd roared. "No! The Carpenter's Crafthall has had enough of Howe's conveniently busy schedule! We will not be put off again!"

"Excellent," the young Warden smiled wickedly, ignoring the protestors after hearing about Howe's presence. "I was hoping to have a chance to…chat with him."

The handmaiden seemed uncomfortable. "I beg you, do not put my lady in danger for your revenge. We must get her out first."

Rose sobered. "We will. But after she is safe, I must do this. Howe must pay. And it will be one less supporter for Loghain's plans."

Erlina gestured for them to follow. They formed up around her like an honor guard or escort. After all, she was Queen Anora's personal handmaiden, and could easily demand such protection. They started moving past the throng, but they were completely ignored as the craftsmen shouted their demands.

"Nor will the stonemasons!" another yelled. "It's been a month since we've seen so much as a coin of Howe's for our work!"

They moved unnoticed to the side of the mansion, between the walls surrounding it and the stonework of the manor itself. The grounds looked as if they hadn't been tended to in a while, and weeds poked up amongst the shrubbery. Brambles had started climbing the statuary. They followed a worn dirt path that led to the rear entrances, most likely used by the servants that made their way in and out daily. They walked measuredly; Leliana and Morrigan had traveled enough with Rose and had been around Eamon's soldiers enough to know how to move like a soldier. They at least could pass as a squad of new guards, and the guards watching from the ramparts said nothing as they walked by. Rose held her breath each time they passed a sentry, but not one commented. A few even tipped their heads in her direction in greeting, which she returned. They made their way behind the estate, passing the gardens and chicken coop, but Erlina stopped them short of the servant's door and pulled Rose back behind the corner. The Warden barely glimpsed the two guards barring the entrance. These guards would have strict instructions on who was allowed in and out. A squad of new soldiers would be too suspicious.

"I can distract the guards," the handmaiden whispered, "but you must move quickly. I will lure them into the courtyard. Hide in the bushes."

Rose gave her a curt nod to indicate she understood, and Erlina took a deep breath. The elf darted out from the corner as Rose, Leliana, and Morrigan dashed for the bushes. The three peered out from the leaves to see Erlina run up to the guards and pretend to be out-of-breath.

"Oh! You must come! I saw something! By the fountain! I think it was a darkspawn!" Erlina cried, sounding terrified.

The guards exchanged glances. "Darkspawn?" one asked.

"They will drag us all underground to be eaten!" she sounded hysterical.

The one who had spoken first looked at the other. "Should we call for help?"

"Did you fall off a cart full of stupid?" his companion asked sarcastically. "Call for help? So they can see us act like scared little girls because of some knife-eared wench?"

Rose bristled; she was just starting to understand how debasing that insult truly was. Erlina, to her credit, ignored the jab.

"They will eat us all alive!" she sobbed. "Please! Get help!"

The first guard turned back to his companion. "If there is something out there and we don't sound the alarm, we'll look worse than scared."

"Andraste's holy knickers!" the second swore. "Fine, we'll check the courtyard, if it'll keep you from wetting yourself. But there's nothing there."

"Thank you!" Erlina blubbered. "Oh! It was over here! Quickly!"

The elf led the guards past where the group was hiding, and they were none the wiser. As soon as they were out of sight, Rose gestured for them to move and sprinted to the servant's entrance. Rose opened the door and ushered the other two women in before closing the door behind her. They had entered a small vestibule, with firewood stacked against one wall and sacks of flour and grain and pots of oil against the other. The vestibule led into a storage room, complete with several racks where the servants could keep their personal belongings while they worked. The party settled on some of the benches and barrels around the room and waited for the handmaiden. Rose did not want to wander around looking for Anora; if she wandered, she would look for Howe, and subsequently endanger the entire mission. Erlina had been right on that account. If faced with the man who had murdered her parents, she would completely forget her duties. Best, then, to wait for the elf who knew her way around the estate.

At last, Erlina came through the door and, shutting it behind her, made a disgusted noise. "Ah! It took me forever to get rid of those two!" She let out a breath. "You must be careful now. The servants, they will not look closely at anyone in uniform. All guards look alike to a cook, no? But you should not draw attention to yourself. Most of the guards are new. They will not know you for a stranger at a glance. It is best you keep your distance from all of them and try to blend in."

"And where is Anora?" Rose questioned her.

"She is in a guest room off the main hall," Erlina informed her. "Andraste guide us."

The handmaiden began walking, as if running errands for her mistress. Rose formed up with Leliana and Morrigan, Fuzzywuggins padding along beside her as another guard in the detail, and they marched down the hall a safe distance behind the elf, trying to appear like they were making the rounds around the halls. They first passed through the kitchens. Several cooks toiled over counters and open fires. Elven servants ran between rooms. A woman was muttering to herself, reminding Rose for all the world of Nan. But Howe had killed Nan.

"This kitchen is a disgrace!" the woman muttered, even sounding like Nan. "How did the old arl's servants ever cook anything in here?"

A serving woman stared into the fire. "No one ever said the Kendells had any sense," she said in response, despite the question having been rhetorical. Rose recalled that the old arl had been Urien Kendells. Hadn't he had a son?

A woman who seemed to be clad in slightly finer clothes rested her eyes on the elf. "Erlina, where have you been? The housekeeper says you're wanted at the palace."

Erlina kept her composure. "I had errands to run for my lady," was all she replied.

"Her Majesty's been quiet as a mouse all day," the woman, presumably the head cook, continued. "And Teyrn Howe says she's to take dinner in her room! Is she well?"

"She is…indisposed," the handmaiden covered. "Not to worry."

Some children ran through the kitchens and started pleading with another of the cooks. "No, you can't have 'just a little taste' first. Wait in the dining room like everyone else," one scolded. "Out, out! We can't work with your lot in the way!" another shooed them away.

The party strode into the dining hall beyond. It was a decent sized hall, with a fireplace and several rows of tables and benches for the soldiers and servants. A few soldiers were loitering about, waiting for food and speaking in low tones with each other to pass the time.

"It's bad luck living in a house where the whole family got killed," one grumbled to his companions as they walked in. "I say Howe ought to level the thing and build a new one."

"He'd have to knock down everyplace he owns, then," another ribbed. The third laughed in response; apparently Howe's reputation had spread.

They slipped by the entering group and into the halls beyond. The manor was so massive, the heat from the great fireplace in the mess hall dissipated before it could reach the hallway, and as a consequence the temperature was freezing. Rose clenched her teeth. Erlina was far ahead of them, and she had turned another corner. They followed after her, passing another detail.

"I hope it's not mutton again," one of the soldiers grumbled, rubbing his hands together for warmth. "Three nights in a row…"

"For all we know, it's not mutton," another said conspiratorially. "Howe's too cheap to buy it. Cook's probably roasting the elves that broke in here."

"You realize that doesn't help, right?" the first shivered in revulsion. Rose joined him. Elves had broken in? She filed that information away, making note to ask around about it later.

They entered a common room. Some off-duty guards were playing cards. More were lounging about. A few were actually trying to clean their armor or sharpen their weapons. Two stood on guard, preventing unauthorized entry into the part of the manor that the nobles occupied. They let Rose and her companions through without a second glance. They marched down the hall. Fuzzywuggins barked as they walked by the kennels. Another Mabari barked back. They heard the recited words of the Chant of Light from a knight's chambers, earning an eye roll from Morrigan. They saw some soldiers in their quarters. More complained about the mutton. The hall eventually led to the main hall, distinctly devoid of people except for the guards by the door. There was another wing connected to the hall, and Rose caught a glimpse of Erlina's dress disappear around the corner. They followed and saw that she had ducked into a small side passage that led to a door that cackled with strange energy. Morrigan frowned.

"The Grey Warden is here, my lady," Erlina announced to the odd door.

"Thank the Maker!" the woman sounded relieved, but she said the words slowly and loudly. "I would greet you properly, but I'm afraid we've had a setback."

"Well that's obvious," Morrigan snorted. "Someone's enchanted the door."

"My 'host' was not content with leaving me under heavy guard," Anora, or whoever was on the other side of the door, responded. "He sealed the door by magic."

"And this wasn't mentioned earlier because…?" Rose glared suspiciously at the handmaiden.

"I didn't know!" Erlina insisted. "There were only guards here when I left. We must get her out of there."

Rose sighed. It was never easy. "Morrigan? Can you remove the spell?"

Morrigan pursed her lips. "Spells like this one cannot be simply removed. Only the original caster can dispel it. Though killing the mage should remove it."

"He'll most likely be at Howe's side," Anora added helpfully.

"This sound more and more like a trap," Rose pinched the bridge of her nose, saying her thoughts out loud.

Erlina looked at her desperately. "Please, Warden, I beg you. Do not leave my queen here."

"Free me, and I promise you my aid in the Landsmeet," Anora bargained from behind the door. There was an air of urgency in her voice, but also one of command. This was a woman used to getting her way.

Rose didn't see many options. "I'll get you out, your Majesty," she reluctantly replied. "I needed to…speak with Howe, regardless."

She didn't wait for Erlina to reprimand her or remind her that she might be endangering Anora's life. Rose didn't need the reminder. But the nature of their mission had just changed, and Erlina's caution had been for naught. Howe would know Rose instantly; he had known her since infancy. And the barrier needed to come down. So, Rose strode purposefully down the hallway, her companions in tow. Erlina did not follow, electing to remain with her mistress. That was fine; there was no use risking more lives than necessary.

Howe's quarters were at the very end of the hall, a set of spacious apartments that were barely filled by aging Ferelden furniture. They carefully avoided the guard who was enjoying an intimate moment with a serving wench, and instead peeked around the corner to the bedroom, expecting Howe to be pacing in front of the roaring fireplace or sitting behind his desk. Instead, they found the room empty. Rose straightened and entered, perplexed, and began poking around the bed. Morrigan strode over to the desk and began leafing through the papers strewn about it, searching for clues. Leliana spotted a chest and, with a practiced hand and a clip from her hair, sprung the lock. She gasped and held up a scroll with a broken seal for Rose to see – the seal was that of the Grey Wardens. Rose dashed over and snatched them excitedly, unfurling the parchment. But her face quickly fell; the words inside were gibberish, nonsensical words that meant nothing when strung together. Rose had hoped it had been a promise of aid or some other information that may have helped. Crestfallen, she leaned against a shelf and accidentally knocked over a figuring of a Mabari. Something clicked. A door, cleverly set in the wall and plastered over to appear like the stonework, swung open, revealing a set of stairs leading down into a subterranean floor. The women shared concerned looks. Hidden doors were suspicious; nothing good happened in secret rooms. But, steeling herself, Rose trudged down first.

There was a door at the bottom. Rose pushed it open, only to alert the guard on the other side. He stood in front of what appeared to be a cell, but the cell was facing away from Rose. The place smelled of mold and something sharper that Rose couldn't quite determine. Fuzzywuggins growled.

"What? Who goes there?" the guard by the cell turned to accost them. Suddenly, a pair of arms reached through the bars and wrapped around the distracted guard's neck. They pulled him back against the bars in a chokehold. The guard struggled to break free. The arms jerked, twisting the man's neck until it snapped with a sickening pop. As the arms released the guard, he slumped to the ground, dead. It seemed to happen in an instant. The body was slowly pulled inside the cell. Curious, Rose approached slowly, unafraid of the murderer. She wanted to see whom Howe was hiding.

A man, middle-aged with long dark hair and a thick layer of scruff, emerged from the cell, having used the guard's key to release himself. He had changed into the man's armor as well. He walked slowly, as if injured, but with a confidence of a man who was unafraid to die. This was a killer. Rose was instantly intrigued.

"I thank you for creating such distraction, stranger," the man greeted them. He had an Orlesian accent, but it was not a courtly one like Rose was familiar with. "I have been waiting days for the opportunity. You never hear music in the sound of a key turning in a lock until you've been imprisoned. I am Riordan," he bowed as much as his injuries allowed. "Senior Grey Warden of Jader. And you…" he scrutinized Rose carefully, "must be one of Duncan's last recruits. Yes, you match his description. Rose, wasn't it?"

Rose was taken aback. A Grey Warden! She felt relieved, as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. They were no longer alone; they no longer had to rely on instinct. Here was a Senior Warden, one who knew Duncan, one who had come to help. No longer was it all dependent on her.

"I'm glad we found you," she said genuinely. "We found these papers in Howe's chambers. Do they belong to you?"

The Senior Warden looked relieved as he took the offered papers. "Yes. These are my records. The names of the dead I could recognize at Ostagar. What I could find of Duncan's own recruitment records. Copies of the Joining ritual I rescued from our Denerim vault. Those should never be seen by any outside eyes, but I trust in their encryption."

Hope surged through Rose. She was learning it was a dangerous emotion. "How did Howe manage to capture you?"

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

Rose grimaced at the answer. "Do you know where Howe is?"

"I saw him go into the dungeons," the Senior Warden replied. "He may still be there."

"I'm assuming Howe has a secret entrance down here to drag in his prisoners without anyone noticing," Rose contemplated.

"Yes, it is down there," Riordan gestured down into the dungeons proper. "I would not be of much used to fighting to you in my current condition, but I will follow you to the exit."

The younger Warden nodded in agreement. "We are allied with Arl Eamon. There's a Circle healer at his Denerim estate; go there, and we will talk more after we deal with Anora and Howe."

Riordan gestured for Rose to lead the way down into the bowels of the manor. The young Warden was used to taking the lead after Revan had forced her to take command. They passed a chamber replete with a rack, several iron cages, and a table stained with old blood and littered with iron implements Rose didn't know the purpose of and suspected she didn't want to. Riordan pointedly avoided the room as she surveyed it. It was apparent that he had been tortured in this room. A barred door was down a small hallway, but with a bit of fiery magic on Morrigan's part, the bar crumbled into dust. Opening it and peering out, Rose saw it led up and to a sewer grate, supposedly leading to freedom. The group parted with Riordan as he ascended to freedom. The remaining women descended down a spiral staircase. Rose dimly wondered how extensive these chambers went; another part wondered how many people Howe had tortured here. It was sickening to think about.

The spiral staircase straightened into a steep flight of stairs that ended in a wooden door. Rose motioned for the others to prepare before swinging it open. As she suspected, Howe guards were waiting beyond, and had instantly been alerted that something was amiss by the movement of the door. These guards were veterans, and they would know that Rose, Leliana, and Morrigan were not supposed to be down here in the dungeons. Fuzzywuggins flew by in a flash and launched himself at the throat of the nearest guard. Rose sprinted after him, freeing her shield and sword and positioning her shield in front of her as she rushed the one to the side as the first tried vainly to fend off the Mabari hound. Morrigan had shifted into the form of a bear and had started mauling another guard as Leliana knocked her arrows and aimed with precision at the soldiers coming in from the other end of the chamber. The group made short work of the guards, despite these soldiers having been highly trained. It helped that Rose and the group had had surprise on their side. They moved efficiently after that; every time they neared a guard, Fuzzywuggins' fur would bristle, and they arrayed themselves to strike quickly. They made swift progress through the maze of damp corridors and unused storage rooms, but there was no sign of Howe. She was beginning to grow frustrated.

That changed when they faced a greasy-haired, pox-faced man with a cruel maul and an even crueler smile. Rose knew, even as he fell, that this was not a simple guard. His uniform was leather, not the chainmail issued to Howe's soldiers. He carried a large iron ring with a variety of keys on a belt around his waist, and opposite was arrayed an impressive display of knives, mainly of the flaying variety. As Rose stuck her blade between his ribs and let him fall to the ground to bleed out, she stooped down to grab the keys. She suspected this was the jailor. She had little sympathy for the despicable man as she left him to die. She would rather save the ones he had imprisoned, like Riordan. The room they had found the jailor and his assistants in had a back passage. This led out into another torture room. Elves hung on thick ropes from the ceiling, their corpses attracting flies. More bodies were piled in cages on the sides of the room. In the middle, a man was stretched out on a rack, and he was screaming as he heard the commotion.

"Don't leave me here!" he shouted desperately. "Get me out of here! That's an order!"

Rose approached and unlocked the shackles. "I wasn't about to leave you, but you should know I don't take orders from you."

"I don't care," the man rubbed his wrists. "Was this supposed to be a lesson? Did my father think it funny to leave me for so long before sending you?"

"Unless your father is Arl Eamon," Rose crossed her arms, "he didn't send me."

This gave the naked man pause. "You move in august company, stranger. I am Oswyn, son of Bann Sighard, of the Dragon's Peak Bannorn. If you aren't one of our soldiers, pray tell me, who should I be thanking for my rescue?"

Rose smiled, pleased at his change in attitude. "I am Rose Cousland, here for the rightful king, Alistair Theirin."

Oswyn blinked. "Maric's bastard? Being supported by a Cousland? Then I need not question why you're here, for your friend's claim to the throne is the greatest threat to Loghain's regime. You have my heartfelt gratitude and, I assume, the gratitude of the entire Dragon's Peak 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. But if you talk to him, I'm certain he would offer you any reward you might ask."

The Warden considered this. "Will your father side against Loghain at the Landsmeet?"

"Then there is a Landsmeet after all?" Oswyn wondered out loud. "Howe said the Arl of Redcliffe was dead, and the Landsmeet called off. I swear, if there be any forum to speak out against Loghain, my father will be there. Now please, I must try to get to him. I…I cannot see the last of this place too soon."

"The exit is to the right, up the stairs, if you can manage, and out a ramp leading to a sewer grate," Rose instructed him. "Do not get caught."

The bann's son rubbed his ankles and soon was hobbling for freedom. Meanwhile, though, the women continued delving the depths of the dungeon. Howe's soldiers stalked the halls, and they were forced to dispatch all the sentries before they could raise the alarm. Some got away, but Fuzzywuggins ran them down. They checked each room they encountered, but all were devoid of Howe or other prisoners. At last, after slitting the throat of an unsuspecting guard, they encountered a door that had a large iron lock in its frame. Rose unlocked it and found the jail cells. Or at least some of them. Surprisingly, here, only two were filled. The closest to the entrance was a naked human man who cowered as she approached. Rose removed her helm and knelt in front of the cell to seem nonthreatening.

"They said to retreat," the man said, obviously addled. "The horn sounded and we turned and then the screams…we rode and they screamed and screamed and…" the man screamed.

Rose suspected this man must have been at Ostagar. The experience sounded too familiar. "You poor man. Who are you? Were you at Ostagar?"

"Mother?" the man seemed to not hear her. His eyes were clouded, she realized. "Can you smell the blood? They said it was only darkspawn, but we ate them too. They died and we left them. In the swamp. The witch. The witch!"

"I don't think this man is in his right mind," Leliana said by her side, sadly contemplating the delirious man.

"It doesn't seem right to just leave him here," Rose protested.

"He will only slow us down," Morrigan pointed out.

Rose agreed, but she opened the door anyway. "You're free. Go somewhere safe. Can you go to the Chantry?"

"Safe?" the man clung onto the word. "Is there a safe? Perhaps next door…" He hobbled away, clutching his wounds. Rose scowled but Morrigan was right: Howe was the priority at the moment, and he could not get away. Not this time.

The next cell held a young elven man who seemed to be almost Rose's age. In another time, perhaps, Rose would have found him handsome. But his captivity had left him gaunt and scrawny and bruised. He stood from the dirty, cold floor as she approached. He seemed dazed and confused, but lucid. Rose unlocked the door and swung it open.

"What month is it?" he asked hesitantly, stepping out of the cell slowly. "Are you some enemy of Arl Urien's? Please…I feel like I've spent half my life down here."

"Arl Urien died months ago," she stated. How long had this man been here?

"Dead? Then who's ruling…? His son Vaughan…he struck me down, and I woke up here." The elf's face suddenly went very pale. "Oh, Maker! Have you seen another elf here? A girl, around my age? Darker skin, but golden hair?"

Rose shook her head sadly. "No, I'm sorry. I will keep an eye open for her. Is she a servant?"

He shook his head adamantly. "No she…she sacrificed herself for the others…oh Kallian…" He looked up suddenly, but his face was contorted in confusion and grief. "I…I need to find out what happened. I need to go home…I thank you for your aid, stranger. I wish I had more than gratitude to offer."

Rose directed him to the exit out of the dungeons and promised once again to look for the woman he seemed so concerned about. They began combing the tunnels of the dungeon again after the elven man ran. They found storage rooms and secret offices and the barracks for Howe's most trusted soldiers, but no Howe. Then, they stumbled upon a reinforced oak door. As Rose reached for the handle, Fuzzywuggins' back arched and he growled angrily. Rose only had to glance at his posture to know something dangerous was on the other side of the door. Howe. She gestured to her companions to prepare, drew her sword and shield, and slammed the door open.

Howe stood arrogantly in the center of the room, flanked by a mage and several elite soldiers that Rose recognized from his many visits to her family's estate. They shifted uncomfortably at seeing her: she had bested all of them in the sparring ring. Even if they weren't afraid of her fighting prowess, many of them had known her family and her father's own soldiers, the ones that Howe had murdered. Surely, they couldn't have been completely beguiled by this snake. The room, Rose noticed as she tried to quell her bloodlust, had uneven footing from several inlaid grates in the floor and a wall in the rear of the chamber that could provide cover for archers. She aimed a seething glare at Howe as her companions arrayed themselves behind her. Howe crossed his arms contemptuously. This was it. The moment Rose had waited months for. She could finally avenge her family.

"Well, look here," Howe spit. "Bryce Cousland's little spitfire, all grown up and still playing the man. I never thought you'd be fool enough to turn up here. But then I never thought you'd live, either."

"Glad to disappoint you," Rose snarled. "It won't be the last time."

"Is this about your family?" Howe asked casually, inspecting his dagger. "Still? But I have done so much more than wipe your name from Ferelden memory. And what's left? A fool husk of a daughter likely to end her days under a rock in the Deep Roads. Even the Wardens are gone. You're the last of nothing. This is pointless. You've lost."

Rose chuckled darkly as she sunk into a battle stance. "I don't think so. I know your game, Howe. No more shadows, no more lies. Just you and me."

Something in her posture made Howe snarl. "There it is. Right there! That damned look in the eye that marked every Cousland success that held me back. It would appear that you have made something of yourself after all. Your father would be proud." For a moment, Howe seemed wistful, almost remorseful. But then the moment faded, and his face turned stony. "I, on the other hand, want you dead more than ever."

He motioned with his hand to his guards to attack. Fuzzywuggins, ever loyal, charged straight for the nearest bodyguard and barreled him over. There was nothing quite like a rampaging Mabari. Meanwhile, Morrigan was deflecting the other mage's spells while trying to cast offensive ones of her own. It quickly became apparent that this mage was no match for the apostate, not after she had been reading her mother's grimoire, and he was soon on the defensive. Morrigan bombarded him with wave after wave of magic that he could barely erect a shield to deflect. As Morrigan wore the mage down, Leliana knocked her remaining arrows and fired them in rapid succession with precision aim, piercing the remaining guards' eyes. That left Rose to deal with Howe herself. The rational part of her brain made note that her companions were purposely leaving him to her. She would have to thank them later.

Howe drew his twin daggers as he realized his guards were outmatched and flung himself at Rose, hoping that, by cutting her down, he could save himself. But Rose was prepared. She had, after all, been traveling with an Antivan Crow for months, and she had learned how to fight dirty. Howe went in for a feint, attempting to get her to raise her shield by striking overhanded with one blade and then immediately following up with an undercut when she was exposed. Instead, she parried with her longer sword and bashed him in the chest with her shield, causing him to stagger backwards. He quickly regained his feet, but Rose had moved to the side and struck unexpectedly at his hamstring. He cried out in pain as he was cut, having almost avoided her blade. Unfortunately, Howe was no longer a young man, and he moved more sluggishly than he thought. She, meanwhile, had been fighting for her life for months; she was in the best shape of her life, by necessity. Before Howe could regain his feet, Rose bashed him in the back with her shield, driving him to his knees on the ground. She stabbed him in the shoulder as she spun, not having the angle to sever his spine. He dropped the weapon in that hand, and it went clattering to the floor. Rose's footwork and momentum led her around him, so she faced her aggressor once again. He had managed to get back on his feet, but one arm hung awkwardly as he brandished one dagger. He lunged desperately at her. His ferocity took her by surprise, and she narrowly got her shield up in time. With a speed that came only from years of experience, he changed the angle of the blade and tried to attack her exposed joints, but Rose was just as fast and rolled to the side. He leapt to drive the dagger down as she recovered, but she raised her shield over her head. As the blade slid harmlessly off the steel, she pushed upwards, causing him to lose balance yet again. He raised an armored gauntlet to protect himself, expecting Rose to strike, but instead she swept out her leg and caught his torn one. He went down to the ground heavily. Before he could rise, Rose slammed the heel of her boot into his bleeding shoulder, pinning him to the ground as he cried out. Her eyes glinted in fury. His glinted in panic.

"This…cannot be," he gasped through the pain.

Fuzzywuggins trotted up to Rose's side, his muzzle and paws coated with fresh blood. Leliana was dispatching the last guard with her daggers, her quiver empty. Morrigan looked drained but unscathed and was recovering by drinking a lyrium potion she had liberated from the dead mage. Rose noted the mage was bleeding from several icicles protruding from his chest. Satisfied that she had a moment, Rose dug her heel in, driving Howe's wound into the rough stone ground.

"I think you've lost, Howe," she sneered spitefully.

"Maker spit on you. I…deserved…more…" he growled.

"So did my parents," she retorted. Suddenly, she realized that a quick death by her blade was too good for this man. She still remembered the looks on her parents' faces as she had left them in the cellar of Castle Cousland. The image of Oriana and Oren's dead faces were burned in her mind. If Rose could make him die a thousand deaths, she would. He had no remorse, no guilt, no wish for atonement. She looked at her Mabari, and released the pressure on Howe's shoulder. "Fuzzywuggins, rip him to pieces."

The Warden stood back as Howe shrieked. Fuzzywuggins, much as he was her protector and companion, had no morals. He tore into Howe with such savagery that Leliana and Morrigan both turned away rather than watch as the Mabari ripped his limbs from his body. Rose crossed her arms and watched impassively. Her companions knew better than to interfere at this point, though Rose realized that this was a cruel fate to witness, despite the horrendous nature of Howe's crimes. Her fury abated as the life slowly left the man that had betrayed her family. As he finally succumbed to his wounds, and his eyes turned glassy as he released his last breath, Rose felt hollow. Her revenge had left her empty. Finally, she called Fuzzywuggins to heel. He left the corpse obediently. Rose cast the body a glance, but there was nothing left of the man for her to hate. It was done. Now, Rose only hoped that the mage Morrigan had killed had been the mage keeping the barrier in place over Anora's room. She wanted to leave this place.

Around the wall in the rear of the room were rows of empty cells and two doors. Rose chose one at random, the door straight ahead. She opened the door and immediately gasped. The room was a torture chamber, similar to the one that they had passed with Riordan. However, this one had a cross on the back wall, and hanging from it was a naked woman. Her dark skin was covered in lacerations and blood and bruises. A tangled and filthy mass of what might have been blonde hair hung over her face, but the tips of her pointed ears just stuck out. Rose immediately ordered Morrigan to retrieve the clothes and armor off the dead in the room behind them and rushed to take the girl down, accompanied by Leliana. Rose, fortunately, still had the jailor's keys. She found one that looked promising and approached the limp figure. With a snap of her head, the elf raised her head and bore her sharp sapphire eyes into Rose with unparalleled hatred. The Warden sucked in a breath. She had expected the girl to be broken; the elf was very much not.

Rose took off her helmet and allowed the girl to see her face. "I'm Rose. I'm a Grey Warden. We're here to rescue you."

The girl said nothing, but stared at Rose suspiciously. The Warden supposed she didn't blame her. She couldn't imagine what the elf had been through. She unlocked the manacles holding the girl in place and, with Leliana's help, lowered her to the ground. Morrigan returned with a set of armor and underclothes, handing them to the girl. Even though several of her fingers were broken and one foot was mangled, she refused help. Only when she was dressed did her expression soften by the tiniest fraction.

Trying to get the girl to say something, Rose prompted, "Is your name Kallian? We met another elf down here, he seemed very concerned about you."

"You…met Soris?" she finally said, the words hesitant. Rose wondered how long it had been since she had last spoken. Obviously, she had suffered far more than her friend.

Rose nodded. "We freed him and sent him out of here. I promised him I would look for you."

Kallian narrowed her big blue eyes, still considering Rose suspect, but her attention was diverted by Leliana openly staring. When both Rose and Kallian eyed the bard, she blushed. "I'm sorry," Leliana began, "but you just look very much like someone I met long ago. Do you know a woman by the name of Adaia?"

The elf seemed surprised. "You knew my mother?"

"I helped save her," Leliana admitted, then looked around. She giggled in realization. "I actually saved her from this very dungeon, now that I think about it."

Kallian blinked, and suddenly her suspicion was gone. What remained in the place of the wild girl was a young woman who was very tired and incredibly traumatized. Rose felt a pang of sorrow. Kallian couldn't have been much younger than herself. She shivered just thinking about what she had endured under Howe's torture. And, according to Soris, the Kendells before.

"Can you stand?" Rose asked.

Kallian paused, but nodded determinedly. The Warden and the bard helped her to her feet. Though she swayed unsteadily, her stubborn will kept her upright. Rose began explaining how to get to the secret exit that led out through the sewers when Kallian interrupted her. "No," the elf shook her head vehemently. "I'm not leaving. Not until we find Vaughan Kendells."

"You're in no shape to keep up with us, let alone fight," Rose pointed out. Kallian glared vehemently at her; there was no dissuading this girl. Apparently, Vaughan had severely wronged her. Rose didn't want to imagine what he had done to earn such hatred. Sighing, she asked, "How do you even know he's here?"

Kallian spit, "I've heard him. I would know the sound of his voice anywhere."

Rose exchanged glances with the others. Leliana was sympathetic. Morrigan's eyes revealed that she was appalled at what the girl had gone through, but her posture was nonchalant, and she merely shrugged in response to Rose's unanswered question. Without a word, Rose handed her a spare dagger she kept on her person. Kallian looked at the blade in disbelief for a moment, then twirled it with a flourish in her fingers to test the balance and slid it into her belt. Apparently, the girl was trained, though how an elf from the Alienage knew about knife fighting escaped Rose. She would have to ask later.

They made their way out of the torture room. Kallian walked slowly, her crippled foot causing her pain with every step, but she valiantly strode on. Rose admired her grit. They made their way to the other door, revealing another set of cells. This time, there were prisoners occupying them. Kallian hissed: one of the cells contained a human man. Rose assumed this was Vaughan Kendells from her immediate and volatile reaction. She pushed the girl behind her and nodded for Leliana to contain her. Rose approached the cell.

"You can't do this to me!" Vaughan railed at the bars upon seeing her approach. She remembered that she was still wearing Howe armor, and he had mistaken her as one of the guards. "I'll have you all flayed! I'm the arl of Denerim!"

"Sure, and I'm the queen of Antiva," Rose scoffed, determined to see what she could get out of him. "Last I checked, there was no longer an arl of Denerim."

"I'm Vaughan Kendells, heir to the arling of Denerim! It's true!" he pleaded. "Too many of our troops were lost at Ostagar. When the riots started, Howe came with men to reinforce the garrison here. Or that's what he claimed. As soon as I let him into the palace, he threw me in here. 'One more victim of the elven uprising,' he said. Let me out of here! I'll do anything."

Rose examined the man kneeling in the filthy cell. She knew his type. He was the type of man that was used to getting what he wanted and had no scruples about how he got it. "You know, I've heard you mentioned by some of the elves in here…"

Vaughan's eyes widened in panic. He knew full well his crimes. "In my room, there's a lockbox full of sovereigns. Free me, and the key is yours."

The Warden raised an eyebrow at the bribery. Behind her, Leliana was struggling to restrain Kallian. "I will open the door to your cell in exchange for the key."

"Here it is!" Vaughan fished out a key from the corner of his cell, under a loose stone. He handed it to her through the bars. "Now please, hurry!"

Calmly, Rose unlocked the door to his cell. "I believe our deal is concluded," she stated. She nodded to Leliana who released Kallian. The elf looked to Rose with her piercing blue eyes, and the Warden stepped aside, allowing the elf to face her aggressor. Kallian ripped her helmet off so that Vaughan could see her face at last. He blanched and scrambled back into his cell on his hands. Kallian advanced slowly, unsheathing the dagger and holding it with a surprisingly steady hand.

"You promised to free me!" Vaughan shrieked.

"And I did," Rose stood aside. "I opened the door. But you have wronged this woman. It is her right to demand justice."

"I've never seen this woman before!" he insisted, raising his hands up as she cornered him. "You have the wrong man! I'm innocent!"

No one said a word as Kallian fell on the man with a wordless cry, a cry of pain and anguish and terrible, terrible vengeance. No one raised a finger as she brought the dagger down upon him again and again and again, coating her armor in a sheen of blood. No one commented as she stood, panting from the exertion, staring at the man who had ruined her, whom she had stabbed until his chest was a bloody pulp. No one protested as she mutilated what was left of him. Kallian had blood rights. No one would deny her those. Rose had considered sparing him to get his vote in the Landsmeet, but it would not have been worth putting such a despicable man in charge of the arling in exchange for one vote. She would just have to work harder to get others to join their cause. But this…despite its gruesome nature, it felt like justice, something that was so lacking in the world. But Kallian's haunted eyes revealed that justice had not been enough.

The cell next to his was occupied by another man, a brown-haired man who looked vaguely familiar, but Rose could not place him. He was muttering something that sounded like an Andrastian prayer.

"Maker have mercy on Your faithful servant," Rose heard him say as she neared. "Grant me a place at Your side. Grant me the cleansing flames."

"Andraste, Bride of the Maker, have mercy on me," he cowered as the Warden opened his cell. He looked up at her, but his eyes were bloodshot and his pupils clouded over. "Alfstanna…" he whispered as he looked at Rose. "Is that you, little sister? No…I don't know you…do I? Are you real?"

Rose knelt, much as she had with the survivor of Ostagar. This was Bann Alfstanna's brother who had abdicated to her to become a Templar. "You're safe now, Irminric. My name is Rose Cousland. I'm friends with your sister. Are you all right?"

"Alfstanna?" he reacted to her name. "I…don't know. Where is my sister? Have you seen her? I…I'm Irminric, Knight-Lieutenant of the Denerim Chantry. You…aren't one of the teyrn's men?"

"No, I'm a Grey Warden," Rose tried to soothe him. "I know where your sister is. I can take you to her. Can you stand?"

Irminric didn't seem to hear what she was saying. "I…I failed in my duties. Maker, forgive me. I failed, and there's no telling what he's done…"

"Who are you talking about?" Rose prodded.

"The maleficar," the Templar shook. "He had turned blood magic upon Templars and Circle mages to escape from his tower. Near Redcliffe, I cornered him…but the teyrn's men took him from me…and brought me here…"

Rose made the connection. "This maleficar, was his name Jowan?"

"Yes," Irminric hung his head. "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, help me."

"What do you need me to do?" Rose realized that this man was beyond just escaping.

The man procured a ring and held it up for her to see. "Give this ring…to my sister, Alfstanna. Tell her…tell her I'm sorry. Please. Ask her…to pray for me."

Rose closed his hand around the ring. "You are getting out of here. You can and will give it to her yourself. And you did not fail, Irminric. We stopped Jowan. He has been dealt with."

The Templar broke into tears.

Kallian stepped up by Rose's side. "This man needs help."

The Warden cocked her head. "So do you."

"I know," Kallian exhaled, as if it was hard for her to admit. "I will take him back to the Chantry. Perhaps they can help him."

"There is a Circle healer at Arl Eamon Guerrin's estate," Rose informed her. "She cannot do anything for madness, but she can help heal your wounds. Just tell them I sent you."

The elf grimaced. "No offense, but I'm rather done with nobility."

Rose didn't know how to respond to the statement. Kallian draped the addled Templar around her shoulders and began limping for the exit. Again, Rose was impressed. But, there was no time to contemplate the statement, or the strange girl. They needed to get out of the dungeon. But Rose wanted to ensure there was no one else left that Howe had tormented. They searched the remaining rooms in the dungeon, only to find that no one remained. The women, now worn and ready to be free of this horrid place, ascended and made their way back to Anora's chambers. Even though their armor was now dirtier, the blood hastily wiped off, no guards in the manor proper looked twice at them. As they rounded the corner, Erlina had to stifle a cry of shock. Apparently, they were bloodier than Rose had thought. Fortunately, however, the magical barrier had been dispelled. Rose popped her neck and knocked at the door. Now that Howe had been dealt with, and Anora could go free, they needed to act quickly.

Anora opened the door and emerged, dressed in a shiny new guard uniform that Erlina must have slipped her. The queen was shorter than she was, with bright blue-grey eyes, a delicate face, and wispy blonde hair that had escaped her helm. She stood very straight and properly, with her hands held carefully in front of her, as if she was about to take a tour of the Grand Cathedral and not escape a traitor's mansion. Rose frowned. She did not have the patience to deal with prim noblewomen, not after seeing Kallian's haunted eyes.

"My thanks," Anora nodded slightly to Rose.

"Aren't you a little short for a guard?" Rose raised an eyebrow.

"Funny. Very funny," Anora said dryly. "If Howe's people find me, I'll be killed. And my people will insist on escorting me back to the palace…where my father may also have me killed."

"I understand the disguise," Rose tried not to roll her eyes. "But for it to work, you also have to act like a guard. Put your hands down, slump your shoulders a bit, but not that much. Don't walk haughtily, walk like…like you're going for a walk in the gardens. Act bored. And just…don't speak until we're out of the manor. Your voice is rather distinctive."

"I would note yours is too," Anora pointed out, needled that Rose was correcting her at all.

"Yes, but I was half raised by soldiers, I know the jargon," Rose informed her. Finally, she allowed a moment of sympathy. "Don't worry, your Majesty, we will get you out of here. Just do as I said and no one will be the wiser."

"Lead the way," Anora gestured to her.

Rose turned on her heel and strode back toward the servants' entrance. She did not know the state of the riot outside the main entrance, and she did not want to fight a mob to get Anora out. However, they could handle the two guards at the servants' door. The women fell into step behind her, Fuzzywuggins by her side. Unfortunately, however, Rose did not get more than ten paces down the mansion. Waiting for them by the main gates was Ser Cauthrien, Loghain's second. And arrayed with her were ten archers, two heavily armored warriors by her side, and a battlemage. The passage to the rest of the manor was cut off. Rose wished she had learned more of Revan's impressive vocabulary of swear words. Instead, she muttered a few choice ones she had picked up from her mother's old sailing friends.

"Warden!" Ser Cauthrien addressed her. "In the name of the regent, I am placing you under arrest for the murder of Rendon Howe and his men-at-arms. Surrender, and you may be shown mercy."

"Very well," Rose eyed the soldiers arrayed around the room. Maybe, if Revan had been there, they could have taken them all, but Revan was dead, and Rose was not immune to the arrows aimed at her chest. She nodded to Leliana, who immediately grabbed Anora by the arm and dragged her off to the side. Morrigan hesitated, but followed, Erlina in tow. Fuzzywuggins whined, but crawled away with a withering look from his master. "I surrender, on the condition that my companions are allowed to go free."

Cauthrien hesitated, obviously having expected a fight. "Teyrn Loghain only wanted you, Warden. Your companions are free to leave."

Rose suppressed a smile. Loghain was a fool if he thought her compatriots would not come for her. Perhaps he thought he could ensnare Alistair by using her as bait. But then, he underestimated Alistair's abilities. As Cauthrien approached Rose to disarm her and take her into custody, Leliana and Morrigan took Anora and Erlina down a side passage, towards the service exit. At least Anora would be safe. She and Alistair could sway the remaining nobles and unite Ferelden's forces, if Rose became a martyr. She hoped it would not come to that.

Ser Cauthrien took Rose's sword and patted her down for hidden weapons. She then procured a set of iron manacles from a guard and locked them into place around Rose's wrists. The Warden offered no resistance.

Cauthrien's brow furrowed as she locked the manacles. "Well that was...easier than I expected."

"I try to do the unexpected," Rose smiled. "It keeps people on their toes."

She frowned, but indicated for Rose to start walking to the door leading out of the estate. Rose complied.

"Teyrn Loghain have you hung, you know," See Cauthrien whispered. "You are accused of murder and treason."

"I see that he and I share the same crimes, then," Rose quipped. "Pity we won't share the same sentence."

"Teyrn Loghain did not commit any crimes," the knight insisted.

Rose smiled at her. "And neither did I. I merely took vengeance for my family, as is my right. I did not betray Cailan or Ferelden. I'm trying to save it." Cauthrien scowled. "You can't honestly tell me that Howe was innocent, or a good man."

The knight seemed torn. "It is not my place to judge him."

"If not you, then whom? Someone must hold people like Howe and Loghain accountable," Rose pointed out.

"And you think it should be you?"

"Hardly," Rose disagreed. "But I will stand up for what I believe in, and I will take action if no one else will. Howe murdered my family, imprisoned innocent people, and tortured nobles who disagreed with him. He deserved to die. As for Loghain...I am sure that Loghain was once a good man, but he is tearing Ferelden apart at a time when we most need to stand together. He allowed Howe to imprison his own daughter. Would a good man do such a thing?"

"He still is a good man," Ser Cauthrien insisted, but she did not look at Rose.

Ser Cauthrien pushed her along in silence after that, obviously trying to process the Warden's words. Rose quickly figured out that she was being escorted to Fort Drakon as the intimidating tower loomed closer. The guards that had accompanied Ser Cauthrien had arrayed themselves around Rose to prevent her escape, but ended up attracting the attention of all the passersby. It was highly unusual for anyone to walk the streets of Denerim, surrounded by two dozen heavily armed and armored troops. Her fiery hair made it quite obvious who was being escorted, as well. Rumors would spread quickly. Rose wondered what that would do for their cause. She hoped it would not make them look weak.

Fort Drakon was an imposing structure. The tower was the tallest building in Denerim, reaching up to touch the heavens. It was also the oldest building in Denerim, having been erected by the ancient Tevinter when they had ruled the continent. Guards were arrayed at the entrance, and a steady stream of traffic flowed through. Loghain had made the fort home to his troops, as well as his personal prison. Rose suspected that any prisoner who entered here never left. She would have to change that.

After entering into the spacious main hall, where troops drilled formations and horses pranced nervously around siege equipment, Ser Cauthrien led her through a series of hallways and staircases to a large office. The knight handed her off to a man with a captain's insignia on his breast, avoiding Rose's piercing gaze as she did so, before beating a hasty exit. She was having doubts. The captain inspected his new charge as Rose stood calmly in the center of the room. Finally, he ordered his men to strip her down and lock her up in the cells. The two men that had been given the assignment exchanged nervous glances, but snapped salutes and escorted Rose through more hallways and to a back room that had been converted into a jail. She tried memorizing the route. There were several cells, replete with iron bars that made the cells look like cages, and several cells were filled with men stripped to their small clothes. The two guards led her into a smaller, empty cell, away from the throng of gawking men. Closing the cell door, one began stripping her of her armor as the other gathered the pieces awkwardly. The other prisoners leered from a distance and whistled or called out; she was probably the first woman they had seen in a while, and Rose was not under any illusions about how she looked. Even the guards stripping her looked uncomfortable and tried not to glance at her too much, especially as they removed her breastplate and tunic. They left in a hurry, leaving the poor guard outside looking red-faced as he avoided looking at Rose's cell. At least they hadn't tried anything, and had left her with her smallclothes. A small comfort. She sighed and examined her cell. At the very least, it was clean. There was a bucket in the corner and a mat laid out on the ground. She went and sat on it. It was lumpy and slightly dirty, but it would do. She leaned back against the bars and thought.

Rose needed to escape. That much was obvious. There were several ways she could do it. First, she could wait for rescue. Her companions would no doubt come for her eventually. But she had seen the fort's security, and she knew it would be a dangerous venture. It would be better if she could escape on her own. That way she was the only one at risk. So, she needed to get the guard close enough to disable him and get the key. She could feign illness...but they probably got that ruse often. She could ask for water or food, but she suspected they had a schedule for that.

"You look like you've been dragged through ten kinds of crap, friend. What'd you do?" a gruff voice asked her.

She looked up to see an older man leaning against the bars on the opposite side of her cell. "Murdered Rendon Howe. Yourself?"

The old man chuckled. "Who calls that a crime? More like a public service. Still, they'll hang you for it. Me? I'm just an old man who can't keep his mouth shut. It's a pity you're here. You're too young to die in a place like this."

"Oh, I won't die here," she assured him. "I am going to escape."

That earned another laugh. "And how do you propose to do that?"

"I'm still working on it," she admitted. "Say, serrah, how often do they rotate the guard?"

The man rubbed his unkempt beard. "I don't know, every few hours, I guess? I've stopped keeping track."

Rose considered, then closed her eyes. The guard outside now was nervous; he knew who she was. She wouldn't be able to fool him. She would have to wait for the next rotation.

"Even if you escape from that cell," the man pointed out, "you'll have to get past all the guards and soldiers between here and the front doors. And they challenge everyone coming in or out, including the patrols."

"How do you know that?" she raised an eyebrow.

"I've been here long enough to hear the guards talk," he shrugged. "And I'm not as stupid as I look."

Rose smiled. "Apparently not."

She closed her eyes and contemplated. She suppressed her worry about her companions and about what Loghain would do to her; she could not control those, so she should not worry. Instead, she focused on means of escape. How could she trick a guard into entering her cell? And once she did that, how would she incapacitate him?

Sure enough, after about two hours, a new guard came to replace the old one. The guards exchanged keys, and the nervous guard ran away as quickly as possible, eager not to have to deal with Rose any longer. The new guard, however, seemed fascinated by her, and kept glancing at her cell from the corners of his eyes. Rose smiled; she knew exactly how to escape. She sauntered up to the cell door and arranged herself in a seemingly casual manner so her breasts were pressed against the bars alluringly. She showed off her shapely legs and plastered on her seductive smile. Suddenly, the guard stopped surreptitiously staring and started openly gawking. Good. She had him.

She beckoned him closer with a finger. He dutifully complied.

"Is there something you need, prisoner?" he tried to sound authoritative. He couldn't have been much older than Alistair. His face was somewhat more unfortunate, with a beaked nose and a rather large wart on his chin. He barely filled his uniform.

"I'm just so lonely, you see," she batted her eyelashes. He started going red. "These other men are so boorish and rude. And I've always found men in uniform to be such...stimulating company."

"I...uh..." the guard shifted awkwardly.

"And you're just so handsome, I knew I had to talk to you," Rose pressed on. "I'm sure I'm going to be hung tomorrow, and life is just so short, I wanted to make the most of it. Care to keep me company in my final hours?"

The guard was practically tripping over himself to get into her cell. He fumbled with the keys before finding the right one, and quickly slipped into her cell, almost leaving the cell door open in his haste. She wrapped her hands around the back of his neck and a leg around his, pressing her body against him. He was trembling.

"Now why don't we remove that stuffy armor? I want to see your bulging muscles," she whispered in his ear, biting his earlobe playfully.

The guard began fumbling with his straps hastily, practically ripping off his helm and gauntlets. Rose helped with the straps on his back, undoing them deftly as his fingers shook with anticipation. The chest plate came off, and Rose slid down to undo his belt. As he threw off the greaves, Rose slid a hand down his small clothes. He gasped in pleasure at her touch. She smiled at him.

And then kneed him in the groin.

He collapsed to his knees, gasping in pain. Rose stepped around him so she was behind him and hooked her arm around his neck, pressing her forearm into his windpipe.

"I'm sorry about this," she whispered in his ear before tightening her choke hold. The guard clawed at her arm, trying to break free, but months of fighting had left Rose far stronger than him. He gasped for air, but her tightening hold broke his windpipe. He passed out from lack of oxygen. She held him longer, asphyxiating him, until his pulse stopped. Rose felt guilty for killing him, but she couldn't risk him waking up while she was still escaping. Instead, she focused on the next step. She put on the dead guard's armor and located the keys. Luckily, the helm covered her characteristic hair except for around the ears. She hoped no one would notice. She unlocked the cell door as the old man in the cell next to her stared in awe. She tossed him the keys.

"Don't try to escape for a few rotations," she instructed him. "Take out the guard and act like a soldier."

"Who are you?" the man asked, catching the keys.

She smiled. "A Grey Warden."

Rose left, making her way down the stairs. She paused at the bottom, trying to remember the route the guards had taken, when a loud bark caught her attention. She barely had time to brace herself before Fuzzywuggins barreled towards her and launched himself at her face. She caught the monstrous beast in her arms with a surprised laugh, and the Mabari licked her face in happiness.

"What - Fuzzywuggins?! What are you doing here, boy?" she scratched him behind the ears in his favorite way.

He whined happily, then turned his head around to glance at a figure behind him. Rose looked up. There was a guard behind him, though this one was slightly shorter than average. The guard removed her helm, and a braid the color of pale silver spilled out around pointed ears.

The elf's grey eyes met hers. "Rose Cousland? My name is Iveani, of the Lavellan clan. I'm here to rescue you."