29. The Night Before

"We're not fighting in the battle?"

"No, Templar. You're not fighting in the battle. I, on the other hand, am necessary for it." Kazar's teeth glinted in the firelight at his smug grin.

Garott fingered the heavy pendent around his neck, still startled by its weight. It kept banging against his chest… he supposed it would take time to get used to its presence. Still, he was reluctant to take it off. Not because of any sentimentality, of course… but because Duncan might sodding stab him if he did.

Though the look on the knight's face had been priceless. Best. Cult ritual. Ever.

The new Wardens had once again been collected from the four corners of camp, and were now gathered in front of the brazier. Apparently, the news Duncan and the princess brought was too urgent to wait until morning. What news? Why, half of them would be sent up a tower to turn on a glorified lamp, while the other half would play heroes down on the ground. Easy bet where the princess had put Garott in her little scheme.

"The task of our force will be to engage the enemy from afar," Marnan said, ignoring Alistair's complaints and Kazar's smugness, "so as to give Kazar the longest possible window to sling his spells. For that reason, I would like Meila and Felicity with us."

Meila nodded from where she was sitting on one of the benches. She was still recovering and weak, but that didn't mean she wasn't back to her old stone bitch ways. "I will atone for my failings this afternoon."

Marnan smiled at her. "I'm counting on it."

"But what of me?" Felicity said nervously. "Certainly, you can't think that I would be particularly effective…"

"Honestly, I need you there primarily to heal. If Kazar and Meila are creating an obvious threat of themselves, they're going to attract attention and take some fire. Your job will be to keep them on their feet." Felicity nodded in understanding, but still bit her lip.

"What about you, princess?" Garott asked with a smirk, startling those nearby when he spoke. Heh. "You going to pick them off from afar with the heat of your glares?"

"My job is defense. Any darkspawn that comes too close will taste my axe."

"Leaving the rest of us to climb the tower. Convenient."

"You are welcome to come along, brand."

Garott gave the princess one of his sharpest smirks. "I wouldn't follow you into safety if the cavern was coming down on my head, much less follow you into a fight."

Her eyes narrowed all disapprovingly, but she didn't rise to the bait. More's the pity.

"I can't believe I won't be in the battle!" Alistair cried, throwing his hands in the air.

"Hey, we have an important job," Finian said, nudging the blond man. "Without the beacon, the plan doesn't work."

"Ooh, strategy. Exciting."

The princess turned a wry smile to him. "The king felt much the same, actually."

Alistair slumped. "Oh, great. Now I'm being compared to him, am I? This day can't get any worse." Finian looked baffled, but nonetheless reached up to pat him on the shoulder.

"This is by the king's personal request, Alistair," said Duncan.

"He needs four Grey Wardens standing up there holding the torch? Just in case?"

"This is not your choice. If King Cailan wishes the Grey Wardens to ensure the beacon is lit, then Grey Wardens will be there."

"I get it, I get it." Alistair paused, the corner of his lip curling up. "But just so you know, if the king ever asks me to put on a dress and dance the Remigold, I'm drawing the line, darkspawn or no."

"Way to take a stand, blondie," Garott chuckled.

"I don't know," Finian said with a smirk. "That could be a great distraction."

"If we're lucky," Kazar said, "maybe they'd go blind."

"Or at least we could cut them up when they all keel over laughing," Alistair concluded.

Duncan looked over the gathered Wardens, a low sigh escaping through his nose. Garott wasn't the only one to laugh.