After what seemed like several hours Alistair arrived and the Landsmeet could begin. The yelling Nathaniel had predicted started almost as soon as he sat down. He had to repeat himself twice and demand silence before the guards could hear him calling for the Grand Cleric. As was typical of Landsmeets, everyone shouted at once and chaos prevailed. Policy in Ferelden was made by screaming over everyone who disagreed. Alistair had been attempting to institute some sort of formal system but so far there was little success. This was to be one of his experiments in creating something that was more orderly than a mob fighting over the last loaf of bread.

First Ronan was called forward to present his version of events. He seemed nervous by the attention of the room on him at first. He soon warmed up and graphically describe the first assault by the darkspawn his group encountered and their meeting with the spiders of the deep roads. He told them he honestly had no desire to act as an assassin, or to fight a group of Wardens, but ended up finding us only because his entire group had died. "The Commander must possess the mercy of Andraste herself," he said when he told them about our allowing him to join us. Ham, I thought to myself. I'm fairly sure I saw him wink at us.

"You expect us to believe she invited you along after telling her you were there to kill her?" Bann Ceorlic asked.

Zevran, who had been directing the questioning, snorted. "Having known the Commander for many years, I would say yes, that is something she would do. This is the woman who recruited Loghain after he chased her from one end of Ferelden to the other."

"If this is true, the price of her forgiveness seems high indeed," Bann Alfstanna said. "Since you're now one of her Wardens."

"What?" Ronan asked, sounding shocked. "No, she didn't make me join. She let me know I could, if I wanted, and then tried to discourage me. It is… not an easy life. This was my choice. I saw enough of their work to see the importance of it before joining. What I've seen since…" he shook his head, and I silently prayed he remembered some things couldn't be told, even if it helped us. "Let me just say I've yet to regret my decision." I sighed with relief.

Anders had to give his version of events next. As expected, it was fairly dramatic. He gestured wildly to describe what happened, smiling, telling jokes, and making eye contact with nearly everyone in the room at least once, and flirting with several of the noblewomen. By the end of it half the crowd was all but eating from his hand, and the Grand Cleric looked angry enough to spit concentrated poison.

Finally it was my turn. I told how I had been awake on watch when we heard fighting and woke the others, being assaulted by the spiders before we could reach them. I told them how we came across the bodies of two templars and displayed the medallions I'd taken from them, which Ronan had returned to me before court. "Would these bodies still be there?" someone called. I couldn't see who.

"No, we offered a prayer to the Maker for them and set them in a nearby lava stream to burn. We were all uncomfortable with simply leaving them to rot and get eaten by the darkspawn."

"Evidence of their fight would remain, though?"

"I'm sure it would," I agreed. "The darkspawn don't clean the Deep Roads after all."

"Could you take someone to it, provide some proof for this story?"

I tried to pick out who it was but they seemed to be moving, staying behind the crowd. Nathaniel, seeing the same thing, had turned around to watch them. From his vantage point on the floor they couldn't hide. "I could provide maps and mark the location, but no, I will not take someone to it. The Deep Roads are the most dangerous place in Thedas. I don't risk the lives of those under my command to settle someone's curiosity. You would find a cave filled with the moldering corpses of spiders, nothing more."

They seemed to have nothing else to say after that. I went on to talk about our defensive strategy in Kobaliman Thaig. I told them how Ronan had found us, of course, but spent far more time detailing the fight. I made a point of talking about how Anders and I used area spells to cull their numbers before they reached us, since I thought it would be nice that everyone get a reminder that magic could actually be used for something besides lighting Chantry fires. I also made sure to mention about how impressed I was by Ronan's work against the emissaries, and how he had been cautious not to use his skills within range of myself and Anders since I enjoyed rubbing the fact that we had lured a templar away in the Grand Cleric's face. It was all completely unnecessary, but I figured I should take advantage of any chance I had to brag about the Wardens prowess. If I could have managed an inspiring ballad about our travels I would have done so without a second thought. Fortunately for everyone there I had about as much skill at writing songs as I did at singing them. That is to say, very little. "So," I said, "once we concluded our business with the Legion of the Dead we headed back to Orzammar, collected the recruits we had from there, and returned to the surface."

"What was this business?" the same voice asked. I was becoming quite sure they weren't really a noble, perhaps a Chantry plant. Or a random lunatic. Those were always exciting.

I couldn't stop myself from rolling my eyes at that. "I'm a Grey Warden, and the Legion of the Dead is on the front lines of the darkspawn's underground lairs. We went for high tea and cake, obviously." It occurred to me that, in this case, scaring people might be a good idea. "But… if you must know," I shrugged. "We have reason to believe the intelligent darkspawn are back. There are reports of them as far west as the Deep Roads below what would roughly be River Dane on the surface, and I have seen them myself in the Dragon's Peak Bannorn and the deep roads below Amaranthine, with many reports of surface sightings. Of course, they are leagues more dangerous than the average darkspawn." Nathaniel nodded grimly when I said that, glancing around at everyone in the room. The collective nobles seemed to be gripped by fear, staring at me as if I would provide some solution. "Unfortunate that I'm here instead of protecting Ferelden from them, isn't it?" I said darkly.

"Very good," Zevran whispered, smiling at me. "Perhaps Leliana's bard training paid off after all."

"It did," I agreed. "But that's the truth." He made a face at that.

"You see, this is why I don't want to be a Warden. You can never simply reassure people."

Once Alistair had demanded silence I described the collapsed entrance of the Deep Roads, mentioning the remains of bombs we had found and the bodies of the templars who set them off. Finally, I was dismissed and everyone began talking over each other once again.

I returned to the other Wardens to watch Zevran present the evidence he had collected after the Grand Cleric was taken into custody, allowing people to come up and inspect it for themselves. Well, allow might be a stretch. Nobles being nobles, they simply grabbed things from his hands. He had also made a point of bringing several more innocent documents, records of tithes and marriages, so the handwriting could be compared. "Your Grace," he said, holding up the journal. "Can you read the passage I have marked?"

"I will not," she snapped. "This is a farce. You, Ser Arainai, are nothing more than a hired blade and that maleficar has you all bewitched! Why does no one see her for what she is? Magic exists to serve man, never rule over him, and yet you all call that witch Commander without a second thought! She will bring damnation on us all!"

"Suit yourself," he said. "I'm more than happy to read it for you." He opened the book, clearly enjoying the attention. Alistair and I shared a glance and each rolled our eyes. "In an entry dated two weeks before your arrest you say 'I'm worried by the king's constant assistance to these mages. Granting the Circle new freedoms was bad enough, but to protect that maleficar whore under the banner of treason? I fear she may have him in thrall, there is no other excuse for his behavior. If I cannot have the templars take care of her soon I may need to look into taking steps to remove Maric's bastard from the equation. It breaks my heart to think of ordering someone to end the line of Calenhad, but he will bring the wrath of the Maker upon us all if something isn't done. I don't understand why the Divine does not see this as clearly as I do.'"

For once, you could hear a pin drop in the chamber as Zevran closed the book, setting it aside. Then it seemed like the wrath of the Maker had fallen upon us as every single person in the room began screaming at once. The sound shook the walls, I couldn't even understand what they were saying. "I guess that worked," Anders said. "Try to kill us, that's just fine. Obliquely reference killing the king? Oh no."

"Well, he is the king," I pointed out. "No one wants another civil war, not this soon. We're just a couple of mages."

"True," Anders said. I glanced over at the Grand Cleric. She was red faced and gesturing. Nathaniel, apparently seeing the same thing, shouted something before pushing me to the floor. Anarchy had been threatening to erupt, that was all the encouragement it needed. A crossbow bolt sailed over me, straight through the space I had been standing in and embedding itself in a pillar not far from where we were. Rolling to my back I looked for the attacker, quickly casting a force field around him.

"That's him," Nathaniel said. "The one with all the questions."

"Look for others," I barked out. "Take them alive." I bolted over to the dais, standing in front of Alistair. He wasn't wearing armor, anyone targeting him would have to go through me. Ser Cauthrien ran over, standing near me.

"Protect the king," she hollered at the guards. A man came at me with a dagger, I cast another force field quickly. I could see Anders kneeling down, healing Ronan from a bolt wound, Nathaniel standing over them with daggers in each hand.

"Smite them! Do it now!" The Grand Cleric was shouting. I raised a hand towards her and grinned as she shook her head, backing away.

I laughed as she was encased in ice. "I should be ashamed of how much I enjoyed that," I said to myself.

"I can't say that I blame you," Cauthrien said, deflecting a blow from another man who came at us. I locked him into another force field and looked around. That seemed to be the last of them.

I turned to Alistair, making sure he was all right. He was standing, sword in hand, barking orders at guards who were standing close to the men Anders and I had trapped, waiting for the spell to wear off so they could be taken into custody. "You know, Mags, since you were the target perhaps planting yourself so close to the king wasn't the best plan of action?"

"Ohhhh…" I muttered. "I didn't even think about that."

He laughed. "I figured that out. I appreciate the sentiment... Unnecessary as it was. I am perfectly capable of defending myself, you know."

"Sorry," I said again. I began to walk through the room, making sure no unfamiliar faces were left in the crowd. "Anders, check everyone for injuries," I called out.

"Already on it," he replied. I looked towards the sound of his voice and saw him healing Bann Alfstanna, who had been hit by a careless swing of someone's blade. Hopefully not one of ours. Nathaniel was standing at the ready, aiming an arrow at the Grand Cleric. Ronan was watching two men trapped in spells close together. "Darkspawn are less annoying," I muttered, returning to stand near Alistair.

He snorted as he sat back down. "I noticed something."

"I'd hope so," I said. "There was quite a lot to notice."

"Oh ha ha ha," he muttered. "I noticed that, while those poor bastards," Alistair gestured to the six men being dragged away by the guards, "got a nice painless force field." I chuckled, realizing what he meant.

"So I'm petty," I said. "Can you blame me?"

"Will she... um… defrost soon?"

"Any time now," I told him. Alistair gestured to a handful of guards. I returned to the other Wardens, sighing with annoyance. We were all looking at the now-unfrozen priest. She was ranting and pointing a finger at me, unsurprisingly calling for my immediate execution by the templars in the room. They looked at each other and shrugged, ignoring her.

"Enough!" Alistair bellowed. I jumped back. He was rarely angry, but when it happened it was a terrifying thing. "I wonder if I should even bother asking if you deny the charges." He looked at the assembled crowd. "I'm assuming the case has been made to everyone's satisfaction?" When no one commented he waved a hand and the guards removed the Grand Cleric.

"Politics is exciting," Anders said as we watched the shocked nobility file out of the room.

"Too exciting for me," I said, sitting on the floor against a wall. "At least you know the darkspawn want to kill you." I looked around the room. "Do you think this happens in other countries?"

"It never happened the Free Marches," Nathaniel provided. "When they found out our Landsmeet allowed duels while in session everyone there seemed fairly horrified." He shrugged, raising a hand to the chaos. "This would be an excellent example of why everyone else in Thedas calls us barbarians." I suppose he had a point.

"How did those people even get in?" Anders asked. "We had to give your name."

"Good question," I said before calling Zevran over. Anders repeated his question. Zevran's face darkened and he spun on his heel without a word, quickly going over to the guards. I watched him speak to each of them briefly. I shouldn't have been surprised when, after speaking to each, he whipped out a dagger and stabbed one, walking away before the body even hit the floor.

"Ouch," Anders muttered.

"I suppose I should have expected that," I said.

Anders sat next to me and shook his head but didn't comment. Nathaniel and Ronan joined us a moment later. "What next?" Nathaniel asked me.

"We should see if they need anything from us now. Otherwise…" I shrugged. "I'm anxious to get to work and don't like being away while Rose is out near that mine. Leave Denerim tomorrow at first light?"

"Good," Nathaniel said. "I've had enough of this city."

"Do you think this will be the end of it?" Ronan asked me.

"I hope so. Mostly. I mean, I'm sure she'll have supporters we'll be dealing with for a bit. And there may be some backlash, but who knows." I shrugged. "Last time something big happened and I expected to get blamed people almost rioted in my favor. I don't understand this country at all sometimes."

Once it seemed obvious no one needed us we returned to the compound for lunch. Nathaniel and Anders disappeared into the city to shop after, leaving Ronan and I. "What will you do now?" he asked. "I mean, with your phylactery gone?" He was sitting at a small table, sharpening his sword while I lounged on a sofa across the room from him, debating between reading a book and taking a nap.

"Go slobbering mad, run through the streets in rags and enthrall anyone who crosses my path, I suppose. Maybe turn to cannibalism. Haven't decided on that bit yet, since it might require that I cook."

"Very funny," he said.

"Who's joking?" I said, turning to stare at him intently while wiggling my fingers in the air. "You will get me a glass of ale."

"You do know jokes like that are exactly why people are afraid of mages," he said, shaking his head.

"Maybe I just wanted a glass of ale," I laughed. "Why would I do anything? That's not the point. I'd say I'll sleep a little easier, but, well, you're a Warden, you know that's not likely to happen."

"So why do you care?" he said, walking to the keg in the corner. "Oh, and if you get a glass so do I."

"It's there for everyone," I told him. He handed me a glass before sitting down again with his own. "Wow… I can't believe that worked. The one time I tried it on Anders he threatened to gag me with his dirty socks."

"That's disgusting."

"I know. I think he's been spending far too much time with Oghren."

"Speaking of Oghren… I don't understand him. I've talked to him a bit. He's showing me the Dwarven fighting styles and I'm going to teach him some of the templar skills. Granted, it wasn't much of a conversation since we were training at the time, but it was enough to see he isn't a stupid man. But…"

"At the rate he's going the drink will kill him long before the taint?"

"Well… yes. Why do you put up with it? The man's a good fighter, sure, but he could be so much more if he cut back. He was all but brilliant in the Deep Roads, when he was sober. Most of the time he can only fight if you aim him in the right direction first, though." I got up to refill our glasses and sat back down.

"This goes no further than this room," I warned. He nodded. "I met Oghren… wow, over five years ago. At the time he was the joke of Orzammar. He'd been forbidden to carry weapons in the city which, for Warrior caste, is huge. But, before that, he was one of the most promising fighters of his generation. His wife, not Felsi, but his first wife… she was some kind of genius. Smith caste, invented some… thing, I don't know what, I've got no idea how smithing works. It was a big deal, though. They made her a paragon, which best I can explain, is kind of like if every couple centuries the Chantry found someone who did something amazing and declared them Andraste reborn."

"So, what happened?" Ronan asked, refilling our drinks. "It sounds like he had a charmed life."

"She went nuts," I said simply. "Took the whole family, everyone but him, and went into the Deep Roads looking for the secret to make golems. That's when he started drinking. She fed them to the darkspawn, let the women get turned into broodmothers- even her lover." Ronan's eyebrows shot up at that. "Turns out the secret to golems is a living soul and a lot of agony. We found her…" I closed my eyes, not wanting to remember that day. "She fought us, even knowing what it took to make them. I wouldn't give in and let her have the anvil, and Oghren stood with us. I tried so hard to finish her before he could. I thought if I killed her, he could hate me for it. I barely knew him, and tons of people hate me anyways, so that was fine. It was a tough fight, she called on a couple dozen golems to help her. A few of them came after me and I got pushed away from her. He reached her before I could. I watched him behead her just as the last golem went down."

"Merciful Andraste," Ronan gasped, looking horrified. "That's how he ended up leaving Orzammar and fighting the blight? I read it was because he was one of their most renowned warriors who had pledged himself to eliminating the darkspawn after they killed his family."

"Yeah, that's about it," I agreed. "Eamon has a way of… editing the truth. I mean, that's all true, technically. Just leaves a bunch out. Couldn't very well say a drunk whose wife left him for another woman and fed their entire extended family to darkspawn while hunting for a magic anvil fought the archdemon, you know?"

"No, I suppose not. Next you'll tell me you weren't the top-ranking mage in your class specifically recruited to the Wardens for your combat skills." I laughed and went back to the keg in the corner, briefly wondering if I could drag it over to where we were sitting.

"No, that's all true. I mean, I also helped my blood mage best friend destroy his phylactery so he could escape with the Chantry initiate he was sleeping with at the time. But, you know, that's why Duncan was there in the first place."

"Edited truth," he laughed. "I suppose if I ever do anything impressive enough to merit an official biography it'll say I was on a research expedition in the Deep Roads."

"Nah, I'd totally say you went after a group of templars who went into the Deep Roads by Circle tower. Sounds much better."

"But we all went in at once," he said.

"Yes, but were you first in line?"

"Not always," Ronan said. I grinned, raising my glass. "Anyways, Oghren. So… I mean, part of me thinks I should encourage him to drink less, or something. But how do you help someone cope with that? Since I don't know, and I wonder if the booze is the only thing keeping him sane. Maker knows I wouldn't be."

"You blame yourself," he said. It wasn't a question

"Not as much as I blame her, but yeah, in part I do. If I'd been faster, and he hadn't been forced to kill his own wife..." I shrugged. "I'm in charge, though. It's my job to take responsibility."

"You weren't Commander then, though. From what I know, you weren't even the senior Warden, the king was."

I snorted. "Back then Alistair couldn't lead us to lunch even if he had a map, a torch, and a whole team of Dalish guides. He had me in charge of everyone before I even went through the Joining."

"And you made this man king?"

"Well, he got better. You were a templar, I know you've studied history. The only decent monarchs we've had in the last several hundred years were Maric and the Rebel Queen, and that's because they had to suffer and fight for everything and never lived as nobles."

"So… you thought he would make a good king because he had a lousy childhood? That's not exactly sound reasoning."

"Hey, it worked," I said. "Three years later elves have more rights, we're on great terms with Orzammar, the Dalish have a permanent encampment in the south, families can at least maintain ties with their children if they go to the tower, and the people adore him."

He started laughing then. I suspected Ronan wasn't used to drinking much, if at all. "Can I ask you something," he finally said.

"Sure. I might not answer, but ask."

"You and the king… did you ever…?"

"Nope, never," I said. "I was fresh from the tower and he was only six months out of the Chantry, we were far too terrified of each other for anything like that. Once we got over that both of us knew the other just wasn't our type."

"Now that," he laughed, grabbing my not-quite-empty glass for a refill "is a dirty lie. He and Anders look like they could be brothers!"

"They don't look that much alike," I protested. "And there's more to being someone's type than how you look."

"No, they look alike. Seeing them next to each other is bizarre. Nobles were commenting on it today." While I admit there were similarities, particularly their noses, I didn't think it was that close. "Did you at least meet Anders first?"

"Sort of. Technically?" I laughed. "We met, very briefly, a couple years before the blight. We never spoke, but I saw him in the hall and thought he was flirting with me while I got yelled at by the Knight-Commander, so I winked at him."

"You mages have it so easy," he said. "You've got no idea. And I'm like six years out of practice. I suspect the things I said as a teenager wouldn't go over quite as well now."

"No, I understand. I didn't leave the tower yesterday, you know. If you need advice on talking to girls ask Anders: trust me, he's very good. I'm stubborn as a mule and still didn't stand a chance. Just don't let him give you… other advice. He forgets most people aren't as open as mages when it comes to discussing things like that."

"So I've noticed," Ronan said dryly.

I changed the subject back quickly. "Anyways, yeah, I technically met Anders first. Didn't meet Alistair until I became a Warden at the start of the blight."

"Still, they look so much alike."

I groaned. "Stop it! What are you trying to do? Make it so I see Alistair every time I look at Anders? Do you want your commanding officer to go crazy?"

He laughed at me, spilling half his drink. "Sorry, I'll drop the subject. I already knew that would be the answer since Alistair told us you used to be involved with Zevran. I just wanted to tease you about it. Consider it revenge for not letting me know our visitor in splintmail was the king." He shook his head. "I still can't believe he tells us to use his first name!"

"All right, I suppose I deserve that," I admitted. "Good job, by the way."

He raised his glass to that. "Do Zevran and Anders shop at the same places or something? Is there a checklist you go by? Long blonde hair, earring, rings on half his fingers, and wears more than a dozen colors at once?"

"Nah… not so much a checklist as it is an informal guideline," I said, giggling.

He shook his head. "You never did explain the phylactery thing. Why do either of you care?"

"It's… ugh. It's a question better asked about seven drinks ago," I said. "But I'll try. It's like… one more way they remind us we're less than people. No one else in Thedas can be tracked anywhere at any time, just mages. None of us asked for this, but we're treated like criminals just for being born. It's like… the big horrible symbol for everything wrong with how we're treated."

"Maker's breath," came a voice from the doorway. "Leave them alone for a few hours and they get drunk to discuss the state of mage treatment in Ferelden. I really wish I could be surprised."

"Hi Nathaniel," I called. "Were you buying Sigrun a present?" He made a face at me, but Anders grinned and nodded from over his shoulder.

"I guess this answers Alistair's question," Anders said.

"What?"

Anders laughed. "He wanted you to say a few words, a small crowd is milling around outside."

"Hey, why not," I shrugged. "I don't think they ever really listen when I talk anyways. I could go out and repeat 'archdemon' a few dozen times, everyone would cheer, and we could have dinner. Or I could cry. I might be able to work up a few tears, just get Alistair in here to tell stories about my dog. If I mumble and they only understand 'chantry' and 'mage' I don't think anyone would realize I don't have a whole speech prepared. Oh, and darkspawn. Can't forget that."

"Let's not do that," Nathaniel said. "Also, the people who recognized us were all very impressed that, after being hit with a crossbow bolt, your first reaction was to throw yourself between the attackers and the king while screaming 'You'll have to kill me before I let you hurt the heir of Calenhad!'" Ronan and I both stared at them for a moment before bursting into laughter.

"Everyone seemed to hear it from someone that works in Teagan's estate. Or from someone who heard it from someone that works there," Anders added. "We should buy him a really nice birthday present."

"I'd never say something like that," I muttered. "Alistair would kill me if I called him that. And isn't it a bit wordy to shout in the middle of a fight? I mean, I usually go for 'die you bastards' or something. And I didn't get hit by anything. In fact," I said, pointing at Nathaniel, "you're the one who saved me from the crossbow bolt."

Anders grinned at that, saying "like I said, excellent birthday gift for Teagan."

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