A/N: Aah, Gorim. You started off so strong, but lost all of your points in one scene. Bad boy. In other news, Ohayocon was AWESOME, and I couldn't be happier with this past weekend. However, do not expect too much happiness to spill over into this... my annoyance with Gorim has outweighed it for the time being. Enjoy!

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Twenty-Eight. Arlindria: Gorim's Betrayal.

Although Denerim is much bigger than Arlindria had ever dreamed it would be, she is not fearful as she walks through its bustling streets, accosted by vendors at either side and commanded to peruse wares ranging from Orlesian perfumes to mabari harnesses, that she will be unable to find the place where Gorim is waiting for her, just as he promised he would be before he left for the surface. In theory, she knows he could be anywhere. She assumes that the market district is the right location given that the natural occupation for surface dwarves is first and foremost in the trade business, but the market district is not simply composed of open stalls; there are religious buildings, homes, taverns, brick-and-mortar shops, and warehouses as well. Any one of them could be where Gorim is, and even if their group had more time to spare in the city, there still wouldn't be enough time for her to search them all for sign or trace of him.

But still Arlindria is unconcerned by these details. She and Gorim have always been drawn to each other, even in spite of whatever distance or circumstances often existed between them, and though they are far away from their old lives and former pursuits, she believes with all her heart that the magnetism that always brought them back to one another is still there. There is no question in her mind that she will see him; the only pressing question is when, how soon, and how happy will he be when he sees her face for the first time in so long.

As Arlindria wanders through Denerim with Britomart, her new unofficial bodyguard, trailing a little ways behind, she tries to remember the first time she became aware of Gorim's presence beside her. He had always been there, for as long as she can remember. His family had long ago aligned itself with hers, and it was understood that one of the Aeducans would serve as his master when the time came. Trian was the natural choice, but then Arlindria was born and it became clear that Gorim would have no one else but her. There was just something about you, Gorim explained to her when she was older. Trian was always bit of a cold stone, but you… you were warm and thoughtful from the very beginning. Even as a child, you were the kind of person I would have been happy to follow anywhere.

As his mistress, Arlindria had no obligations to respect him in turn or even to acknowledge his presence as anything more than a tool to be used to her own advantage, but it had not taken her long to grow to love him, first as a friend, and then as the mate of her heart. She adored how faultlessly loyal he was to her, but more than anything she loved how he treated her like a person, rather than just a Princess of Orzammar. Her word came first to him, but he was never afraid to correct her when she was wrong or scold her when her own stubbornness got the better of her judgment.

It is a mark of Arlindria's strength that she can continue on without the assistance of her right hand, but all the same, she is acutely aware of his absence. She feels lopsided and incomplete, as if an essential element that makes her who she is has abandoned her. She wants it back, or to at least have the knowledge that it is still hers and is waiting to rejoin her one day.

"My lady?" Britomart says tentatively behind her. "Are we supposed to be going around in circles like this?"

"I'm trying to catch my bearings. There is someone I'm supposed to find here, and I have a feeling that this is close to the right place…"

She falls silent, listening to the voices calling out around her. Fine Antivan daggers… Come to Wonders of Thedas for all your magical needs… Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him… Dwarven crafts, fine dwarven crafts…

Arlindria snaps to attention instantly. "It's him!"

"Him who?"

"My second! He was banished along with me, and he said he would be waiting for me here. It's him! I'd know his voice anywhere."

She steps forward, following the sound of his voice to an open air market stall. At the sight of his face, her mouth spreads into a smile so wide it is almost painful. She had almost forgotten how much she missed her home and her life from before. In spite of the challenges in front of them, she has enjoyed her time among the Wardens and their new companions, and has found a purpose that is in some ways even greater than the one she had left behind. But the sight of him, the sound of his voice, the familiar things about him that she carries with her wherever she goes reminds her of the reasons she is a part of this campaign to begin with. It is not just for her own sake, or for Ferelden's, but for the sake of everything he sacrificed by standing by her and loving her when he could have abandoned her to her fate.

"Gorim," she says, slowly approaching him. She has never been one to throw herself on him or make a show of weeping during times like these, but she wants more than anything to be beside him, to feel his hands within hers once again as if they had never been apart.

"My lady Aeducan!" Gorim cries, rubbing his eyes in disbelief. "Is… is that really you? So you survived Ostagar. You're really here."

He reaches a hand out and gently takes a strand of her honey blonde hair between his fingers. Arlindria closes her eyes and leans into his palm, enjoying the affectionate gesture that she had once taken for granted but now appreciated as something worth suffering through anything for.

"I knew you would make it through the Deep Roads," Gorim continues, his voice still quiet with awe. "Your father, too. He summoned me before I left to talk about you. He wanted you to know that he regretted his decision from the moment he made it. He regrets it so much that it's killing him. It's like he's an empty husk, devoid of all happiness and vitality. If age doesn't kill him, sorrow surely will." He releases her hair and presses his hand instead against her cheek. "He loved you more than anything, you know. Causing you pain hurt him more than anything else has in all of his life."

"Father," Arlindria whispers. "If only I could be there with you."

"You are merciful in ways I could never be. I hated him for what he did to you, but I suppose in a way I did pity him. For all his wisdom, he could not stop Bhelen, protect Trian, or hold onto you."

"Still, I will forgive him his mistake. He would have never doubted me if I had not given him reason to."

"My lady Aeducan. Do not dwell on these things of the past. We all have our faults, and yours are lesser than my own and those of your brothers. You never did anything to deserve what happened to you; never doubt that." He gives her cheek a gentle stroke and lowers his hand again. "In any case, it's good to see you again. I would have never forgiven myself if you had died without me there to protect you."

"This is me we're speaking of, Gorim," she says, her spirits lifting a little. "Dying isn't on the agenda."

"Of course. Of course it isn't." His smile suddenly fades into a look of pained confusion. "You know, if I had known it would happen like this… that you would come back and find me so soon…"

"Then what?" she asks, her heart sinking again. She is unused to him looking so afraid of her, as if she will lash out against him at any moment.

"Then…" Gorim looks down at his feet with a sense of shame Arlindria has never seen in him before. He has always been prideful, just as she is, and has only been given to regretting those failures which were in his power to prevent. This look on his face—contrite, embarrassed, and in some ways defensive—tells her that he has done something she will not like, but something he believes is justified, even if she does not.

"We always knew it would be difficult between us," he says finally. "You will always be in my heart, but you were never supposed to be more than a master to me. That's the way it is in Orzammar. We were going to have to come to terms with it eventually."

"We aren't in Orzammar," she interrupts, her hands clenching into fists. "I am not Lady Aeducan. I am nobody. I am no one."

"Even if we aren't in Orzammar in body, you and I will always be there in spirit. And there are lines we shouldn't cross… lines we shouldn't have crossed, back then. We were always going to have to give it up, no matter how much we didn't want to."

"I would have done no such thing! If Bhelen could have a casteless lover, why can I not enjoy the love of a good and honorable man? You know me, Gorim. You know me better than anyone. Am I the type of person who does things she has no intention of following through with? Am the type of person to sacrifice what I love for such trivial reasons? Am—"

He takes a deep breath and interrupts her. "I found someone on the surface. My… my wife is a good woman, the daughter of the best dwarven smith in Denerim. We're expecting our firstborn by spring."

Arlindria stares at him for a moment, waiting for him to announce that he is playing an elaborate joke on her or is testing her own loyalty by making her question his. But nothing changes in the seriousness of his face other than the occasional flash of guilt which is countered by an immediate look of defiance. He means everything is saying to her, and, worst of all, a part of him does not regret his choice, no matter how much it hurts her and everything she ever felt for him.

She puts a hand on her forehead and grits her teeth. "I am such an idiot," she whispers. "First Bhelen, and now you. When will I learn not to trust the people with the power to hurt me the most?"

"My lady Aeducan—"

"We've been together since we were children. If that's something you can dismiss within the span of months, how much did I mean to you to begin with? You meant everything to me, and that's why I never would have done this to you, not if there was the smallest chance I would injure the person who matters the most to my heart. If you wouldn't do the same, I can only assume I didn't mean very much to you. Not at all." She sucks in her breath. "I've been so blind. So very blind."

"Don't say that. You were my entire world, my lady."

"That doesn't mean you ever loved me. It only means you depended on me, or were in awe of me. Neither of those things equal happiness. Not in the way I was happy with you." She bites her lips, suppressing the worst words she is capable of throwing back at him. "I wish I could say that I am glad for you. But I am not, and I have no reason to lie to you. Not like you lied to me and lied to yourself all these years. I'm not like that. I'm not."

"I can't bear your disappointment, my lady Aeducan."

"Disappointment? What I feel is worse than that. My power wasn't what I thought it was, and neither were you. What do I have left anymore? What have I done or believed in that was actually worth something in the end?"

"Please, my lady." He tries to put his on her shoulder, but she draws away before he can. "I know you have been disheartened lately, but please allow me to do something good for you. Let me offer you a discount on my father-in-law's goods for whenever you have need of them. They are all fine works, and I am sure you and your companions won't find better dwarven smithing wherever else you go."

Arlindria hears a dagger unsheathing behind her, and without looking she knows Britomart has swooped in for her defense. "Do not belittle my lady," she snarls, pointing the blade at Gorim's throat. "She is worth ten of you, and her heart is more precious than anything you sell in that shop of yours. Do not attempt to apologize for breaking it with such cheap offerings."

"I swore to her that I would never give up on her, even if she gave up on herself," Gorim persists. "I still mean it. I want to help her in any way possible, even if she must sacrifice her pride to receive that help."

"You already gave up on her. You gave up on her the moment you admitted to yourself that the two of you would never be together, no matter how much she loved you." Britomart spits at his feet, smug for once that her Brand and his caste both mean nothing on the surface. "You don't need to give her anything else. You've already done enough."

With a forceful tug, Britomart propels Arlindria forward and away from the stall. "Bastard," she hisses under her breath. "And people wonder why I never want to interest myself in men. There's the reason right there."

"I'm an idiot," Arlindria repeats, leaning her suddenly heavy head on Britomart's shoulder. "I'm just like my father. For all my wisdom, I cannot see what is right in front of me. I cannot judge people until their true colors are plainly shown."

"What about Loghain? You were right about him after only five minutes in his presence! Don't let that sneaky piece of nug droppings make you lose faith in yourself. You were the finest woman in Orzammar. And even on the surface, you have been model for us all."

Arlindria shrugs, feeling indifferent for one of the first moments in her life. "I just don't see it anymore," she says emotionlessly, without tears or anger or even bitterness at her own defeat. "I don't know why I ever believed there was something worthwhile about being me."

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Coming Up: After arriving in Denerim to a closed off Alienage, Alain distracts himself by trying to figure out the mystery the endlessly baffling rogue Zevran presents in his life