Chapter 28

Coming Home

They fought their way through the palace district to Fort Drakon quickly, knowing that it all depended on Riordan now. If he failed to make the archdemon land there, they might not get another chance to face it. How he intended to do that was anyone's guess.

The floor of Fort Drakon was littered with the bodies of the guards. Although Núria's memories how they had treated her when she was held captive there were still vivid, she almost pitied them. Amongst the dead they found at least one mage and a warrior with a Redcliffe uniform. Apparently Riordan had at least found the leaders of their allies. They could only hope that said allies were not all lying dead amongst guards and darkspawn.

When finally they stood before the door leading out onto the roof, Núria felt fear tugging at her. She exchanged a glance with Alistair, who looked rather pale too. 'Perhaps Riordan managed to slay the beast already,' the templar suggested carefully, but a loud roar sounded outside, and the entire tower seemed to shake. For a moment Núria thought it might crumble under whatever force had hit it, but then it stilled, and sounds of fighting could be heard from outside. 'Or not,' Alistair muttered, opening the door with a shaking hand.

The archdemon was gigantic, and it was wounded. Its right wing was torn and dark blood dripped to the floor from it. Soldiers were on the rooftop, representatives of their allies as well as a few of the guards. To their credit, they were brave, but that didn't make them invulnerable. The creature was fierce with pain, lashing at the humans around it with its head and tail and legs, breathing fire into another group and scorching them all to black corpses. 'Whatever it costs, it can't get away from here,' Alistair said hoarsely, and Núria nodded. The templar ran towards it, Wynne's eyes found Irving and she went to fight at his side. Núria set out after Alistair, but Zevran caught her by the arm.

'There!' he shouted, pointing to a platform on the tower. 'Ballista!' Without a word, Núria changed direction and ran there instead.

'Can you work with those things?' she asked, and Zevran nodded. He used a handle to point the huge weapon at the archdemon and launched at bolt at it.

'There are more, I bet,' he said. 'Get me more bolts!' Gladly, Núria did as she was told. Zevran handled the huge weapon as well as he would a sword, while she brought him bolts. Suddenly, the dragon gave a huge roar and took to the air. Its injury didn't let it fly far, though, and it was forced to land again - and well out of their reach. Irving continued hurling his magic at the beast, but that would certainly not be enough to slay it. What was more, darkspawn pushed onto the tower, defending their leader fervently. Núria and Zevran joined Alistair where the archdemon had been before, and they set to stem the tide of their enemies. Wynne and Lanaya, Zathrian's successor, were standing back to back, helping them, the former looking everywhere at once it seemed to help anyone who needed her. She looked as though she was close to collapsing but remained on her feet, hurling spell after spell at the darkspawn and her allies if they required healing. She had not even looked so wild when fighting her demon in the Circle Tower.

Eamon skidded to a halt beside them, helping cutting a path into the seemingly endless supply of genlocks. 'How many of those things can they have?' the elderly man asked.

'I think I prefer not to know that,' Alistair replied. 'Eamon, there are ballistae, when this thing comes back, you and Kardol use those.'

'Kardol is actually here?' Núria asked loudly, and Alistair pointed to the far side. The dwarven warrior alone fought as many as they did together, but he didn't seem to be in any difficulty. Perhaps, Núria wondered, it had to do with the fact that he and his followers had already had their funerals, as it was custom to those that left to try and push the front back in the deep roads. Eamon darted over to him to help, and Núria admired his stamina. She felt her movements slowing, but the arl didn't show any sign of weariness at all.

Only when all the darkspawn were killed, the archdemon returned to fight them. 'You get back to your ballista, it's hurt already, keep out of harm's way … just in case.' Alistair pushed her away almost roughly. Núria left her sword in the last genlock she had slain to keep the last few surviving darkspawn on the tower from moving to the ballista. While Zevran armed it once more, Núria scanned the place for Wynne … She was still standing beside Lanaya, but something was wrong with the keeper. She was leaning on Wynne, then she broke to the ground.

'Get out of the way!' Zevran shouted, and she took the fastest way out of his aim: downwards. She thought she felt the sharp stream of air as the bolt passed over her. She scrambled out under the line of fire and got to her feet, ready to ward off anything that might try and reach Zevran. But her eyes stopped at the archdemon. Zevran's last bolt stuck in its throat, and it thrashed its head from one side to the other, trying to get rid of it. Zevran abandoned his place by the ballista and came to stand next to Núria. 'Can't hold still, can it?' he muttered.

'What does it matter?' Núria asked, feeling mad laughter rising deep within her. 'Look, it's dying!'

That seemed to be true, but it didn't make the dragon less dangerous. In its wild movements it caught Alistair in the gut, sending him skidding over the ground to where they were standing. The templar didn't even bother to get to his feet immediately and watched the creature's movements slowing. When it fell, Núria forced herself out of her reverie. Without another glance at anyone but her quarry she started running, taking a detour to where she knew her sword was. Riordan's words rang in her head. Should any other than a Grey Warden do the slaying, it will not be enough. She got to the genlock in question and pulled her weapon free. But if the archdemon is slain by a Grey Warden, its essence travels into the Grey Warden instead. Oh Maker, what if Morrigan had been wrong?

Alistair scrambled to his feet and watched in silent admiration, also thinking of Morrigan's ritual, though with considerable disgust, and hoping desperately that she hadn't actually played some devious game to fool them. As Núria sank her blade into the archdemon's head, a flash of light shot into the sky, engulfing her. Her knees buckled, but her hands still clutched the blade. Zevran made a desperate step forwards, but Alistair reached for him. 'You can't help her,' he yelled over the rushing noise coming from Núria and the dragon, which he knew was not yet dead, but very nearly. A scream bubbled from the small form that seemed oh so fragile beside the archdemon, and Zevran tried to yank himself free frantically. Alistair put his arms around the slighter man's chest and held him firmly, feeling horribly cruel and helpless as the assassin struggled madly to get away. Then, an explosion of light erupted, knocking them both backwards. The wind was knocked out of Alistair's lungs as he landed on his back with Zevran on top of him, and for a moment he fought for consciousness.

When he got back to his feet, Zevran was kneeling beside Núria, her head in his lap. Alistair didn't even bother approaching but went to rip Wynne from Lanaya. The mage came running anyway as soon as she saw the look on Alistair's face and skidded to a halt beside the two elves. 'Morrigan said she would be safe,' Zevran told her in a rough voice. His face was empty, whether or not he was worried was not to be seen by someone who hadn't learned to read him, but Alistair knew him well enough by now to see beneath the façade. Wynne knelt at Núria's side and placed her hand on her forehead, closing her eyes.

'She is alive,' she said after a moment. 'Barely, but still. We have to get her away from here. Alistair, could you …'

'No,' Zevran said firmly. He placed her head gently on the ground before he gathered her in his arms. Wynne led the way down and out of Fort Drakon, back through the broken city and to Eamon's estate.

Núria opened her eyes on a hard floor that was swaying alarmingly. She blinked the fog away and looked around to find herself in a stone cabin. Why it was swaying she couldn't guess. Apprehensively, she stepped out and onto the deck of a ship. The cabin, it turned out, wasn't made of stone at all, but of dark, slightly withered wood. But what was she doing on a ship, and, what was more, why was she entirely alone there?

Núria closed her eyes to try to remember how she had got here. She recalled that they had gone to Redcliffe. But no, they had left again, she was supposed to be fighting the archdemon, what was she doing on a ship?

She shook her head forcefully and glanced ahead. They were reaching a dock in a forest. There was someone standing there, waiting, waving at her. It was an elf in a robe … The ship landed and Núria left it quickly, feeling slightly sick. The man strode towards her, smiling … She recognised him as Zathrian, and it struck her that Zathrian had never smiled. Not once.

'You do not belong here,' he said serenely. 'You belong with her.'

'Her?' Núria asked in slight confusion … They were alone. Or weren't they?

'Me,' a gentle voice told her. 'You belong with me for now.' She turned and looked at Wynne, who was holding out her hand, while Zathrian was backing away. 'It is your choice with whom to go, but to leave would be too early. Return with me. Zevran is waiting for you.'

'How do I return?' Núria asked, wondering if she had to get back onto the ship.

'Just take my hand, my dear,' Wynne said. 'I'll guide you.'

'Farewell, Grey Warden,' Zathrian said from a few steps away, and after a moment, Núria reached for Wynne.

'I almost feared I couldn't wake you,' Wynne said, suddenly sounding different, perhaps less … vague. 'No, don't get up just yet. Rest. You deserve that. You have been unconscious for three days.' Núria didn't listen. She pushed herself onto her elbows and blinked the dizziness away.

'Is it dead?' she asked, her voice sounding unfamiliarly hoarse.

'Yes, yes it's dead,' Wynne replied. 'By your hand, too, in case you don't remember.'

'What about the others?' Núria asked, searching the room. It was hers, the one she had stayed in. 'Did anyone …'

'Riordan,' Wynne answered at once. 'Irving found him a few hours ago, he must have managed to … mount the archdemon somehow, but it threw him off. He fell from a great height and broke his neck. Everyone else is fine … More or less. Oghren has a broken leg, but that's nothing that cannot be healed. Alistair has a concussion, but don't worry, we're fine. Leliana said Morrigan left when she saw the light coming from the tower, she turned into a bird and flew into the direction where it came from. We believe she was checking if you were fine, Alistair thinks she just wanted to make sure she wasn't leaving too early for her own good. Sten is all for chasing her, but I managed to persuade him to let her be.' Núria smiled.

'Let her be?' Núria echoed. 'She's an apostate, and my guess is also a maleficar. You don't feel you have to put her down?' Wynne sighed.

'From what Zevran told me, she's the only reason you survived what you did, so no, I do not think she must be punished.' A thought struck Núria and she sat up quickly.

'Jowan!' she said loudly. 'I must talk to Irving!' Wynne pushed Núria onto her back.

'Irving has already left for the Circle Tower,' she said. 'And Jowan is not your responsibility.'

'I am such a fool,' Núria said miserably. 'I wanted to help him, and all the time I could, only I didn't see it. If Morrigan can live in peace, why not he?'

'Because Morrigan used her magic to save you,' Wynne explained patiently. 'Jowan poisoned Eamon and nearly got all of Redcliffe killed. Drink that, it will calm you.'

'He didn't want that,' Núria said stubbornly, accepting Wynne's potion all the same. 'I should never have let them have it. I should have conscripted him! I could have!' Wynne nodded slowly.

'You could have, but I really think that Jowan was a very dangerous man,' she said. 'He may or may not have learned from what he did, and to recruit him into the Grey Wardens would have been an even greater risk than allowing Loghain to join. Now rest, tomorrow is Alistair and Anora's coronation. You do not want to miss that, do you?'

'I want to see Zev,' Núria replied.

'I'll send him over,' Wynne promised. 'Knowing him, he'll be with you when you wake up.'

Indeed, Zevran's face was the first thing Núria saw when the night was over. 'Hello there, hero of Ferelden,' he said softly, taking her hand. 'You got me worried, do you know that?' Núria smiled vaguely and squeezed the hand holding hers slightly.

'Did I sleep past the coronation?' Núria asked him, her voice luckily back to normal.

'Oh, no, but it will begin in two hours,' he replied. 'I would have had to wake you up soon. There's a set of fresh armour, or a fancy dress, you can choose which you prefer. Alistair has a surprise for you, so you really should come down.' Núria sat up and glanced at the small table and the chair beside it. The armour looked Dalish, and Núria assumed it was a gift from Lanaya. The dress was very beautiful, and it would fit her, but it felt wrong to wear it, somehow. She managed to get out of bed without swaying and walked over to the table. 'Should I turn away?' Zevran asked. 'Ah, but no, I'll keep an eye on you, just in case you need a hand.' Núria laughed softly.

'Wait until later with your hands,' she told him, dressing effectively. 'Otherwise I'll never make it down to the coronation. I am exhausted enough as is.' Zevran stepped up to her when she was done and put his arms around her.

'Wynne said it was a close call,' he said, his face hidden in her loose hair. 'Núria, I hope you know how much it would hurt me to lose you.' Núria manoeuvred out of Zevran's embrace and took his face into her hands.

'Yes, my love,' she said softly, and this time he didn't turn away at the endearment but kissed her, gently and sweetly enough to make up for the words he couldn't utter.

The coronation ceremony was a rather pompous affair, and Núria half wished she could have woken up after it. This wasn't her world, the nobles in their silk, their obvious astonishment that an elf of all people could have saved them, all this made her uncomfortable and slightly angry. She got a short reprieve when Alistair rushed in, and spotting her, abandoned whatever he had planned to do to run towards her and embrace her fiercely. Finally all went quiet when Alistair and Anora walked past them all to a Chantry sister, who gave them her blessings and placed the good of Ferelden in their hands with her words.

Alistair turned to face the people before him, and he didn't look unhappy. 'My friends, we are gathered to celebrate those responsible for our victory,' he said, and Núria couldn't help smiling. He didn't want to be in the middle, so he shifted to the side. Knowing him, she would be replacing him as the centre of attention. Well, this would probably be the last time he could do this to her. 'Of those who stood against the darkspawn in Denerim, there is one in particular who deserves commendation. The one who led the final charge against the archdemon remains with us still, an inspiration to all she saved that day.' His voice was firm, and he sounded as though he was getting used to his role as a leader. His eyes found her and rested on her face as he continued. 'Ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you the hero of Ferelden, the first Grey Warden to defeat the blight since Garahel four centuries ago.' She sighed and moved over to him, coming to a halt before the templar and looking up into his face with a small smile. 'My friend, it is hard to imagine how you could have aided Ferelden more. I think it only appropriate that I return the favour. Is there any boon that you might request of Ferelden's king? If it is within my power, I will grant it.' Núria almost laughed. That was easy to answer.

'I wish to see my people treated fairly, for once,' she said firmly and loud enough to be heard by everyone present. Alistair nodded at her.

'An excellent idea,' he said. 'What would you say to becoming the new bann of the alienage … a voice for the elves in the Landsmeet.' Núria felt herself go red and shook her head at once.

'I … oh dear, no,' she replied. 'Shianni! Ask Shianni, she'll love that.' Alistair grinned at her, and she wondered if he had known she would decline.

'Then we shall have to track her down and give her the news,' he replied. 'The alienage will hereby have its own ruler and its own laws. Hopefully, this is only the beginning. Let it also be known that the arling of Amaranthine, once the land of Arl Howe, is now granted to the Grey Wardens. There they can rebuild, following the example of those who went before them.' He continued more quietly, so that only those standing close by would hear. 'What are your plans? Will you remain with them?' Núria nodded at once.

'The darkspawn are still a threat,' she said. 'The Grey Wardens need me.'

'That they do,' Alistair confirmed. 'I'm glad one of us is staying with them, at least. So, it seems all of Ferelden has come here to see its hero. You should make at least a brief appearance before they storm the gate.' Núria sighed and rolled her eyes, but she thought she could as well stick her head out and leave after letting them gawk at her for a few moments. As she moved towards the double door, Zevran took her aside.

'What happens now?' he asked her softly. 'You'll leave with the Grey Wardens, and I wonder where I fit into this.'

'There is nothing you don't fit into, Zev, at least not where my plans are concerned,' Núria told him. His face lit up with a smile.

'So I can remain with you?' he asked. 'I've grown fond of you, you see. Sad, but true.' Núria laughed softly.

'I'd love for you to stay,' she said. 'With me.' Zevran beamed at her.

'Now that's a request I would be hard-pressed to refuse,' he said lightly. 'So I won't. So even if the Crows will come for me again, let them. It will only add to the fun, no?'

'Do you think they'll still be after you?' Núria asked, slightly shocked at that.

'Eventually,' Zevran admitted. 'With Taliesen dead it might take them time to figure out what has happened. But they're like the tides … predictable.' He sighed. 'Well, we'll talk later, there's a crowd waiting for you out there, it seems. So go on and get paraded about. It is fun to watch. Don't worry, I'll keep an eye on you and make sure no one gets a clear shot. Not without paying me a great deal of coin, anyhow.' Núria laughed and shook her head as she continued towards the door. Zevran would sooner cut off his own arm than let anyone hurt her, that much was certain.

Epilogue

Zevran opened his eyes when the sunbeams stung into them through their lids. With a soft smile on his face he turned to his side to look at his Núria, but she was up already. Well, judging from the brightness it was only some two hours before noon, and she was an early riser. He stretched and glanced at the door with a slight frown. It was not entirely closed, so either she had left very hastily, or someone had been here in her absence. Instinctively, he pulled back her blanket. Underneath it, there was a dagger. His dagger, the one he had been given the day he had become a full member of the Crows. He had kept it, but certainly not in bed. A note stuck at its end, and Zevran retrieved it with a sense of foreboding.

It was short, but it took him a long while to read it. When he was done, he quickly packed his belongings, including the note. He scribbled a few words onto another piece of paper and left it for Núria to find. After a moment, he took it again, ripped it in half and wrote a new one. His heart broke at what he had to do, but everything else, including the truth, would be insane.


((So that's it for the moment. The sequel will come, how soon I do not dare to promise but I suppose the first chapter will be up some time next week. The chapter heading here is an ASP song, mostly chosen as a heading for the epilogue, as it were. I thank all of you for reading and reviewing! Perhaps I will post the first few chapters of another story some time very soon, but I promise that this does not get in the way of my writing, since I've completed it long ago.))