The Return of Another Enigma

Alistair walked into his tent, unbuckled his sword belt and threw it and his sword back toward the tent flap. They had finally finished working through the bannorn, but this last farmhold family was the worst. Each stop had varying degrees of acceptance of the inevitable, but it seemed the longer the caravan went on, the more frustrated the land holders became. The family today was on the southwestern edge of the worst of the Blight. If only they could have stopped the Blight a little bit farther to the east … Alistair stopped that thought. "If only's" would drive him mad.

Loghain walked in just in time to pick up the belt with the sword still in the scabbard off the dirt floor at his feet. "You know she didn't mean everything she said, Alistair."

"Oh? And, which part did she not mean, Loghain? The part where she called me a bastard son of a Redcliffe whore who flirted her way into Maric the Savior's bed? The part where she threw dirt, straw, shovels, axes or anything she could find at me?" Alistair stopped to rub the dirt from his face and pick the straw from his hair. "Or, was it the part where I was a demon, drawn to Ferelden from the Void so I could make her little children suffer and starve?"

"She called me a minion of the Archdemon." Loghain buckled the belt into a hoop.

"Only because I am the Archdemon," Alistair growled. "Thank the Maker Ceolic kept his mouth shut and agreed with little argument or I might have become the Archdemon. Do I even want to know what you threatened him with?"

"Probably wiser not to know." Loghain started to chuckle. It was a good thing he hadn't handed back Alistair's sword. "Sorry, Commander, sometimes it's uncanny how much you remind me of your father."

Alistair walked up to Loghain and angrily pulled the sword belt from the older man's hands. Instead of using the sword on Loghain, though, he merely hung it on a tent pole hook. He huffed and fumed a few minutes more before he sat on a crate. "Do you think they've found anything out yet?"

"It's been a little over a month since they left. Maybe they have, but it will still take time to get word to us about anything they may have found." Loghain sat on a crate near, but out of arm's reach of Alistair.

"So, let me guess … you didn't just follow me in here to talk me down. You want to stay behind with the people outside Redcliffe to help rid us of Gaspard the Ass." Alistair stretched his back and pulled out a handful of straw that had artfully landed in the top of his boot.

"Well, if Teagan doesn't mind. The Orlesian ships should have landed near Gwaren by now. I don't think they could have made it to Redcliffe just yet with all their ponce requirements, but that's just a guess." Loghain stood. "We got the confirmation from the Dalish keepers that fire followed by ice was the only way to truly get rid of the taint. Well, the only way other than the passage of a great deal of time. I was hoping the Dalish would also notify us if the Orlesians showed up, but we've heard nothing else so far."

"The Templars are going with us as far as the Redcliffe camp, but they will need to turn north from there. I need to try to recruit more mages into the wardens, check with Irving to see if he's uncovered anything we can use against mind-control, swing by Highever and take a look at Kayda's improvements of Soldier's Peak … all before the Landsmeet next month. Too bad Bethany is so against becoming a warden." Alistair was very grateful for the girl being there. He knew she was infatuated with him … because Saldra had told him. He was terrible at recognizing such things. And, while being the subject of someone's infatuation was nice, Alistair's thoughts kept turning to someone else.

Alistair and Anora had spent every evening together before he and Loghain headed out with the affected landowners. Anora was very intelligent and knew a lot about … well, everyone and almost everything. Where Alistair absolutely hated politics, Anora embraced the challenges. One thing she mentioned kept bothering Alistair: if Maric returned, the Landsmeet would more than likely try to put him back on the throne. When Alistair fumbled around to ask if she'd then marry Maric, she only laughed and said that Maric's widowed daughter-in-law would be the last person he would consider. Alistair was relieved, at the time, and she seemed touched that he would care.

However, the thought more recently on his mind was, What was best for Ferelden? His father as King, with his legend and history behind him, would only strengthen the country … and Anora as Queen would make it even stronger.

"Are you still with me here?" Loghain was standing at the tent flap with his arms crossed.

Alistair's cheeks flushed. He stood and paced a moment. "Do you think Anora should marry Maric if he returns?"

The question seemed to surprise Loghain. Alistair was seldom able to do that. "Where did that come from? Is that what Anora told you she wanted?"

"No, actually … she said that he wouldn't be interested in her." Alistair sighed. "But, the two of them would be the best for Ferelden."

Loghain's face went from amused to his usual frown as he walked over and put his hands on Alistair's arms. "First, we have no idea if Maric is even alive yet. Second, if he is, I really doubt he will want to take the throne again … unless it makes it easier for him to wring my neck. And, third, you need to listen to Anora, boy, really listen to her. She doesn't want to marry Maric because she wants to marry someone else … you, specifically."

But, Alistair still didn't want to listen. "But, she only wants to marry me to try to continue the Theirin line. She can do that with Maric, stay Queen, and benefit Ferelden." Alistair shrugged out of Loghain's grasp. "You're right. We don't even know if my father is alive. We shouldn't talk about this until we do."

Leliana was beginning to worry. Zevran was late. Varric went off and said not to worry about him … which, of course, was worrying in and of itself. This was the fourth stop they'd made as they sailed up the coast. They reached Antiva City and found The Swine's Nipple, a small tavern on the edge of town near the docks. Isabela and her crew stayed on the Siren's Call so they could be ready, in case we needed a quick getaway. Antiva City was seething with Crows, after all.

Isabela's crew wasn't very happy about that, so she told them that anyone who wanted to go ashore could. But, if she had to leave, they would be left behind … and would not be welcome to return. None of the crew left. Isabela was a good captain.

As Leliana and Zevran walked down the gangplank, the crew's new cook, Elry Stansh, was planning festivities on board. He was well-built for a cook and always ready with a joke to diffuse most conflicts. He kept his graying brown hair tied back with a leather thong. Elry was hired in Denerim on recommendation from Loghain. Isabela's old cook was arrested when a bar fight spilled out into the market and the Call had to leave.

After the ship was settled, Leliana, Zevran and Varric found The Swine's Nipple and Zev told them to stay there. Varric said he was just going to look around the marketplace and headed out. Leliana had to swear to the Maker and his Bride that she wouldn't follow, lest his contact find out and kill them both. He knew she would never break such a vow, so here she sat.

Two hours later, as she was just about to sin against the Maker and go find him, Zevran walked in the door, laughed as he ordered a bottle of wine and came over to sit with Leliana at the corner table. "Well, I see our friendly dwarf hasn't returned from the market yet."

"No, not yet. You seem to be in a good mood." Leliana held out her glass for Zevran to fill it.

He leaned forward and appeared to be kissing her cheek. "Metrios knew nothing about Aurelian Titus. And … he was lying." Zev sat down and clinked his glass to hers. "We are done in Antiva, my dear." He was saying that just loudly enough for someone to overhear, and alert her that it wasn't the truth.

"I'm so sorry. Perhaps we'll have better luck further up the coast." She smiled at him. "To future profits." She returned the clink.

He downed his glass and took the almost full bottle. "Yes, let's head back to the Dawn's Harbor and sail out in the morning."

Leliana finished her glass of wine while panning the crowd through her lowered eyelashes. There was a cloaked person standing in the shadows near the door. Leliana wondered if they would be able to make it out of the door, but the person just stood there as they stepped out into the busy street in the late afternoon. They parted a bit when they reached a small market on the way to the docks and caught up to Varric. He was flirting with one of the lovelier merchants there. Leliana recalled the ship, Dawn's Harbor, was two piers over from the Siren's Call. Just as Leliana was about to step away from a pitifully mundane shoe merchant, she saw the cloaked person again. They were being followed.

"Find anything you like?" Varric asked as he stepped up and glanced in the direction of the cloaked person. He had sharp eyes.

"Not today," she said with a smile to the merchant. "Perhaps we should head to the ship and get ready to leave in the morning."

"Alas, that is probably a wise idea." Zev started moving toward the docks. When they found a deserted part of the street nearer the piers, he pulled Leliana and Varric around a corner into an alley. He nodded to a group of mercenaries. "Those are Metrios' men. They seem to be headed toward Dawn's Harbor. We're going to have to be careful."

"I should say you will." A female voice from the street surprised both bards and the assassin as the cloaked person from the inn moved into the alley with them. She pushed back the cowl of her cloak just enough to let Leliana, Varric and Zevran see she was a female elf, a rather tall female elf, with blonde wispy hair and striking blue eyes. "My name is Achalla. I'm a servant in Metrios' house … or rather, a spy put there to listen for anyone who comes to ask about Aurelian Titus." She smiled at Zev. "Which you just did."

Zevran laughed. "I'm not certain what you mean, my dear. We are only vendors of the rare and unusual that we …"

Achalla put her finger on Zev's lips. "We do not have time to dance. I am also a mage and can get you to the Dawn's Harbor unseen."

The fact that she didn't know about the Siren's Call made Leliana feel a bit safer. "Very well, no more dancing. Who put you in Metrios' house?"

"My mistress, Yavana." Varric's low whistle interrupted her for a moment and then she continued, "Some call her the Witch of the Wilds or the Beast of the Tellari Swamps." She raised a delicate eyebrow. "She has the man you seek and wishes to deny him to Titus … send him back to Ferelden."

Suddenly, Leliana felt less safe … but more sure this was a lead they needed to follow. She looked at Zevran and he nodded. Varric looked like he was already on board with the idea.

"We're not on the Dawn's Harbor. We will take you with us to the Siren's Call and shove off immediately."

Achalla smiled before she pulled up her cowl. After whispering a few words and blowing into her opened palm, Metrios' men started to point and walk in the opposite direction, back toward town. "A small suggestion that you were going overland to the south."

There was no blood dripping anywhere. Leliana thought only blood magic could control minds. She decided that she would leave the questioning about that until they returned to the ship. The trio made a steady walk toward the Siren's Call so as to draw as little attention as possible. Once there, it was a simple matter to slip into Isabela's cabin.

It took a bit of convincing to get Isabela to sail down the river to the swamps, but, fortunately, she knew an old seer in Seleny that had a stock of healing herbs that were better than elfroot. Seleny was as far as a ship could go as the river got too shallow beyond the village.

The Call's crew was ready for a quick getaway that looked as normal as any departure. Leliana heard Isabela give the order, "That's the last of the cargo on the dock! Get it stowed in the hold and we head to Treviso!" Of course, anyone paying attention would notice that the ship headed west instead of north. From Leliana's hidden vantage in the cabin doorway, she couldn't see anyone who gave them any notice, though.

However, when Leliana turned to question Achalla, all the mage said was, "I will meet the ship in Seleny." Then, she turned into a bird and flew west.

Zevran stepped up. "We should have guessed someone taught by a Witch of the Wilds would do that. We're losing our touch, my dear."

Leliana giggled. "Maybe so, Zevran."

"I know that Metrios would never have employed an elf mage to do his bidding. Elves are only good for servants in his eyes. He's been trying for years to convince the Crows to stop recruiting us. Metrios only spoke to me under truce because I knew some secrets about him that he would not want to reach the prince's ears. And, he knew that killing me wouldn't end the threat." Zevran shrugged. "This trip upriver is a good risk, I think."

Varric snickered. "Yeah, well, your buddy Metrios went directly to someone named Prince Claudio Valisti after you left his house." When both Leliana and Zevran glared at him, he continued, "What? Dwarves are more invisible than elves in these parts."

"What did Claudio say?" Zevran didn't look happy.

"He said for Metrios' men to follow you, Zev, but not make themselves known. Apparently, this Claudio has a deal with Titus to find Maric." Varric frowned. "What's up with all these high-powered assholes wanting the old King of Ferelden?"

Zevran sighed. "I have no idea, my beardless friend."

Leliana frowned. "I am more concerned with what we will get. What if Achalla does turn Maric over to us? What will he be like? After being held captive so long. Will he want to go back? Poor Alistair." Varric shrugged and headed onto the deck to watch the land slide by as they headed into the wide river. Zevran also shrugged and went below deck, leaving Leliana alone with her questions and quandaries.

Several days later, about an hour away from docking at Seleny, Achalla reappeared … first as a water bird and then as a witch. The crew shied away from her with all the appropriate superstitious signs against evil. "He awaits you on the dock. You cannot stay. You are being followed."

Isabela sighed. "So much for picking up that herb." She turned to her crew. "This is going to be a very quick pick up and shove off! Ready the …" Her orders went on.

Varric narrowed his eyes at Achalla. "And, I wonder why we're being followed?"

"Maybe she works both sides?" Leliana asked. But they couldn't do anything else before she shapeshifted and flew away again.

Zevran narrowed his eyes. "My guess is that she really works for Claudio, who is too much of a coward to confront Yavana himself."

The rest of the hour was tense. As they got closer to the dock, they could see a lone cloaked figure standing there. As they pulled up, they saw a dead Achalla at his feet in a pool of blood. There were other people around, but it seemed like they just looked the other way and went about their business. Isabela's crew didn't even secure the ship. They threw the person, who they assumed was Maric, a rope and he deftly climbed onto the deck. At least he was still in good shape. The crew shoved away from the pier as a dockworker walked over to Achalla's body, kicked it into the river and threw a bucket of water to wash away the blood. Leliana had a feeling he had done that before.

The figure pulled back the cowl. The hair was lighter, streaked with gray, but the eyes and nose were just like Alistair's. "The witch said that our getaway isn't assured." He shrugged. "Actually, she said that I was about to meet the fate I should have gotten years ago." He put his hands on his hips and smiled. It was Alistair's smile. "I told her she was wrong."

"I'd say you made your point." Varric was grinning. It was infectious. "My name is Varric Tethras, Your Majesty," he said with a bow.

Elry, the cook, was on deck for some reason. He walked over and took a knee. "Your Majesty, we never thought to see you again." So, Loghain put someone on board who could positively identify Maric.

"Elry, you old dog! Save that for Cailan. I'm no longer the King of Ferelden." He looked around at the startled, unsure faces. Leliana knew her face wore concern and sympathy.

Leliana put her hands on Maric's upper arms. "You have been gone a long time, Maric. Once we get by those who are following us, we will tell you everything that has happened in Ferelden."

He took her hand and held it. He looked so sad. "Thank you, but if your faces are any indication, I doubt I shall look forward to the telling."

"Ship! Closing fast!" A clipper was just making a bend in the river. Soon, they would be passing each other. The river was wide enough for two ships to pass closely by, but Leliana doubted a battle would end up well for either the loser or the winner. However, Isabela's crew was getting ready for just that when several shadows crossed over the Siren's Call.

A flight of drakes passed the Call and headed right for the ship bearing down on them. Gouts of flame erupted from the sails of the other ship as the drakes circled it. Everyone on the Call looked on in amazement. Leliana turned to say something to Maric about getting below when she noticed the look of concentration on his face. He seemed to be guiding them somehow, communicating with them. As the Call slid past Metrios' vessel, Leliana saw that the ship was already beginning to list toward them and that there was no one living on the deck. The drakes only circled the Siren's Call and headed west.

"That's Metrios," Zevran whispered as he pointed to a body draped across the railing of the stern.

"And, that looks like the man Metrios was talking to … Claudio." Varric pointed to a smoldering body rolling from the deck into the river.

Maric finally spoke. "Prince Claudio was the one who originally kidnapped me and imprisoned me in Velabanchel."

"The Crow prison … ouch." Varric shook his head.

"The Witch Yavana freed me, only because she wanted to use me. She won't be using anyone else again," Maric whispered.

Leliana realized that Maric had some of his own stories to share, but he insisted that they fill him in first. During the telling, Leliana and Zevran took turns. Varric piped in from time to time with the outsider's point of view. They saw Maric begin standing, then sitting, then slumping with his head in his hands.

Varric gave the final statement. "And, now, Alistair is the Commander of the Grey in Ferelden and doing a very good job of it." Both Leliana and Zevran nodded their agreement.

Maric stood and walked to the railing. His tears fell without shame. Everyone gave the man a wide berth for the rest of the day; however, that evening, he joined Leliana, Zevran and Varric for dinner on the deck. "Maker's Breath," Maric whispered. "If Yavana hadn't told me that Flemeth was dead, her hut in the Wilds would be my first stop."

"Flemeth's dead?" All three of the rescuers asked the question simultaneously.

Maric nodded. "Yes. Pity I couldn't have been the one to kill her. Yavana told me Flemeth died. I knew it was true because the dragons confirmed their freedom. The old abomination kept them bound to the Grove 'to protect them' she said. In reality, she wanted them to arise at a time of her choosing, to do her bidding."

"So, uh, I have a question for ya' … did you direct those dragons to attack that ship?" Varric asked the question that everyone on board had.

"Yes … sort of. They sensed I was in danger. Since they were near enough to pick up on it, they took care of the threat." Maric looked at Varric. "How much do you know about my ancestor, Calenhad?"

Varric's eyebrows shot up. "The dragon blood thing is true?!"

That brought a small smile to Maric's face. "Yes, Calenhad drank dragon blood to enhance his strength. You must remember that Fereldens aren't too many generations away from the barbarian tribes and their superstitions. The 'dragon thing', as you call it, was a fact. And, the power grew over the generations." He stood and stretched his back. "I knew nothing of it until Yavana told me and I saw the deference the dragons gave me. Alistair has it in him as well." Then, he frowned. "Although now it's tainted by darkspawn blood. If Duncan hadn't died with Cailan, Fiona would kill him."

Leliana cocked her head. "Is that the name of the serving girl in Redcliffe? How did she know Duncan?"

Maric blushed. "The serving girl was just a story that Eamon came up with. Fiona was part of the group of wardens who dragged me down into the Deep Roads over twenty years ago. It was where I first met Duncan. It was a difficult journey. We lost almost the entire group. Fiona and I started out hating each other but … eventually, we … well, Alistair was born an appropriate time later."

"And, you kept all this from Alistair?" Zevran sounded angry. Leliana had to admit she was feeling a bit angry herself.

"It seemed the right thing to do at the time." Maric stood and started to walk to the railing but Leliana stopped him by grabbing his arm.

"The right thing for you, maybe?! Don't you dare feel sorry for yourself! You are just as guilty as anyone, Maric Theirin! You had a son! A prince! He was thrown away like so much refuse! You should be ashamed of yourself!" Leliana was livid.

"I made a promise to his mother not to tell Alistair about her and not to raise him as royalty." Maric did sound sad about it.

"And, still, even though he had a heartless father and stupid mother and conniving caretaker, Alistair has become more of a hero, more of a great man, more of a 'savior' than you could ever hope to be. You don't deserve to call him son!" Leliana slapped him … hard enough to make him stumble backward a step. Then, she turned and went below deck to the cabin she was sharing with Zev and Varric.

She was trying to come to terms with losing her temper like that. All that time she traveled with Alistair and Kayda and the others, Alistair was rarely thoughtless. The only time he got remotely nasty was with Morrigan and she always deserved it. She recalled Alistair's face when they got thrown out of Goldanna's house … he was so disappointed. Maker, he just wanted a family and that shrew wasn't even his real sister! Then, in desperation, Alistair asks them to go find his father, even though he knew that Maric had abandoned him.

Tears came to Leliana's eyes. Maker forgive her … if she didn't know that Alistair would be heartbroken to learn that Maric had died on the voyage home, she'd kill the man right now.

AN: Thank you for all reviews, favorites and follows!

ChaoticHarmony1991 and The Invisible Pretender, thank you for your reviews. :) Yeah, killing Flemeth distressed me greatly … but with a title like What Could Go Wrong? it was inevitable, eh? ;) I think the world ending in flames and chaos should rightfully impact good and evil, don't you? hehe