Duty's Journey – Chapter 36

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The Circle of Magi – one week later

Alistair relaxed into his chair at the feast table, for once not being the center of attention. Over a small feast, the mages were taking turns telling their favorite Wynne stories, as apparently was tradition in the Tower. He hadn't laughed so much in ages.

"… and then she pulled me out from behind the bookcase by ear, and…"

He could see the stories of naughty apprentices being caught in the process of doing something monumentally stupid, but there were a few that were just to crazy to be believed. Toe to toe with an abomination, every other mage in the Tower down for the count? Really?

And then there were the stories that made him blush to his ears. Irving especially had a few thinly veiled comments about a young and comely Wynne with a talent for tormenting Templars. "At least," he finished, "until I distracted her properly." The First Enchanter winked an aged eye, and Alistair suppressed a shiver. Maybe it was time to outlaw his elders from talking about their sex lives.

As the feast was coming to a close, a tap on his elbow brought his attention to a young dwarf. It took him a second, but he remembered her; Dagna, the girl who wanted to study the Circle even if she couldn't do magic.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, your majesty, but I wanted to ask if you've had any news out of Orzammar recently." she asked shyly.

Alistair was taken aback for a moment. He had gotten used to either the condolences or congratulations from his people. This was a new issue entirely. "I'm afraid not, not within the last few months. I've been meaning to send an ambassador or something."

"Oh." Dagna chewed her lip and looked very uncomfortable.

"What have you heard?" Alistair asked slowly.

She looked around her. "I have it from a lyrium dealer that there's a rebellion brewing against King Bhelen. Warden Elinora's has been attached to it, but he didn't know how. He said Bhelen's issued a writ of execution for her."

"What?" echoed through the hall. Heads turned to them. Alistair ignored them. "Do you know anything else?"

Dagna shook her head in frustration. "Nothing, not even if my family's safe."

Alistair growled, but calmed himself and said to the girl, "Thank you. I'll see what I can find out." Alistair turned and headed up to his rooms, clearly intending to pack himself up and ride out as soon as possible.

As he started up the stairs, another hand caught his elbow, more forcefully this time. He spun to find Aldo with that know-it-all look that seemed to come with magical training. "You can't."

"What?"

"You can't go running off to save her." Aldo said it as if that was exactly what he wanted to do.

Alistair puffed himself up in his kingly best, which did not suit him. "I can do whatever I want. Its one the advantages of being king."

Aldo shook his head. "No you can't. Besides the political mess it would make, there's dealing with her later. Do you really think El needs you to come swooping in to save her?"

Alistair sat heavily on the stairs, all the bravado taken out of him. "Maker knows she doesn't." He buried his face in his hands with a frustrated groan. "I hate this, the not knowing, not being able to do anything."

Aldo plunked down beside him. "You and me both, your majesty."

After a few moments of manly sulking, Alistair looked over at the mage. "What are you doing here anyway? Shouldn't you be in Amaranthine?"

Aldo shrugged. "I was, but I wanted to spend some time here, researching and such. Besides, Wynne was something. I keep thinking that if I'd been there…"

The king clapped the mage on the shoulder. "No, my brother, she made her choice and it was her time. You should have seen the look in her face… after."

"Peaceful?"

"Proud."

Aldo chuckled lowly. Wynne had been something indeed.

Orzammar

Elinora was exhausted. After five days of near constant fighting, they had finally killed every last Darkspawn that tried to stand against them. There were more down there, but they were deep and wouldn't be bothering them anytime soon.

Her troops were in better condition that she was, the rotations allowing each platoon plenty of rest between assaults. Elinora, of course, had not rested much. She was in command and had to know when to move, when to cycle platoons and count each man lost.

The counting had not kept her busy. She'd only lost seven men, one of them a Warden. That was an accomplishment, something she would be proud of later, after the kin of the fallen were informed, after she had gotten some rest, and after she knew what had become of Orzammar in their absence.

Which, of course, had been the whole point.

And once the gates of Orzammar loomed ahead, she got nervous.

She nearly fainted in relief when Oghren, a broad grin on his face, greeted them.

"We won?" she asked Oghren slid an arm around her waist. He supported her as they walked into the Commons.

"Almost," he grunted. "City's ours, but the Assembly is being its usual self. But we have a solution. And you are just in time to witness it." Elinora made some sort of questioning grunt, so he continued. "They're going to fight it out in the Provings."

She wanted to say something witty and biting, but was too damn tired to come up with anything. All she managed was, "When?"

"Tomorrow. Its all over tomorrow."