Happy New Year, dear readers! The last chapter was a bit heavy, so I wanted to lighten the mood a bit with this one and bring Alistair back to his "adorkable" roots. I hope you enjoy it and as always, reviews make my day. Thanks!
I instructed the others to assess the situation and consider our next best course of action regarding this whole Bhelen/Harrowmont thing before retiring to Tapsters for the night. Much to Zev's chagrin, I made it abundantly clear that I so didn't want an audience for this little lovers' quarrel. I'd had it just about up to here with people staring me down while I put my combat skills to the test. This particular battle wasn't for anyone's eyes but mine and Alistair's.
I re-entered that now-vacant arena like fury incarnate. I cast off one piece of clunky armor at a time with each step I took and threw it hard on the ground. This was to be a true test of ability and technique. No safety nets, no security blankets. I brought nothing with me onto that battlefield other than my own strength, cunning, and heart.
"This is beyond stupid, you know that? I don't even know why I'm here." Alistair called as I drew close enough to hear him. "And why are you taking your armor off?"
"Because I won't need it." I explained dispassionately. "I'd suggest keeping yours on, though. Rumor has it I can pack one heck of a punch… Although, you could probably stand to have some sense knocked into you after all the bullshit you just spouted."
"Fine." He groaned. "Happy?" He asked once his armor joined mine on the floor.
"Ecstatic. Choose your weapon." I demanded sternly as I gestured toward the nearest inner wall of the coliseum. That wall had every weapon imaginable on display for the Proving warriors to make use of. He looked the weapons over incredulously before shaking his head.
"And if I refuse?" he asked defiantly.
"Then we're done."
"We're done as in… we can forget about all this and go back to the tavern and feed each other cheese until we fall asleep? Cheese and sleep sound especially good right now, you must admit."
"No, we're done as in there is no 'we' any longer." I clarified coldly.
"Oh come on. You must be joking, right? After all we've been through you want to throw it all away because of a few off-color comments?"
I grabbed a weapon off the wall—smaller, mind you, than my usual weapon of choice. It was more like a rapier than a two-handed broadsword, but I didn't want to hurt him, not really. Although I really did not like him at the moment, I still loved him. Maker have mercy, I would always love him. I'm not sure if anything could ever undo that. And somehow, that realization made me even angrier.
I took the sword and rested the tip of it right against his chin as I looked him dead in the eyes.
"Do I look like I'm joking?"
"Okay, okay, I get the point. …No pun intended." He grabbed a sword similar to mine and readied his stance. "I don't suppose there's any way we could just talk this out?"
"Tell you what, so long as you can hold a sword at the same time you're running your mouth, I won't attempt to stop you." I bent my knees and raised my arm behind me, assuming the usual en garde position.
"Well, I suppose that's someTHING!" His voice grew shrill as I advanced toward him and lunged to land a hit—a hit which he narrowly avoided.
"Maker's breath! You almost stuck me!" He wailed.
"Then I suggest you start paying attention." I advised as I moved to run my blade across his left pectoral muscle, drawing a little blood that stained his white tunic.
"Hey!" He shouted. "Haven't I told you I scar easily?"
I just rolled my eyes and kept on coming. As I advanced, he kept on retreating, never attempting to raise his sword for more than a block or a parry. We'd be here all night at this rate.
"Fight. Me." I demanded through gritted teeth.
"But I don't want to!" He shouted in protest as I cut his shirt again, slightly exposing the flesh of his tricep. "Ow!"
"Fight me or lose me!" I shouted.
"Ugh! That stubbornness of yours is how this whole thing started, you know that?!" He cried as he finally attempted an actual attack, which I evaded with great finesse thank you very fucking much.
"Oh, I'm sorry. What were you expecting when we kindled this little romance, Alistair?" I asked as the fight finally started picking up steam. With each syllable that escaped our lips came the satisfying clanging sound of metal crashing against metal. "A girl who would just smile prettily and nod? Someone who would be putty in your hands—too afraid, too submissive to take a stand? Do you not know me at all?"
"On the contrary, Scarlett," he began as he pushed his weight hard against me and ran the length of his blade up across mine. In a blink he came in so close to me that I could feel his breath against my lips, nothing separating us but the cross of our steel. "I know you better than you know yourself." He stole a kiss before I pushed him away from me with a growl.
"How dare you?!" I cried as I cut him again. Nothing serious, but enough to make my point. He just let out sharp hiss before he began to chuckle.
"You know, for someone who prides herself on her ability to analyze and observe and… whatever else it is you do, you really can't see the forest for the trees on this one."
"What are you talking about?!" I jumped off the ground as he tried to sweep his blade across my legs before I went back to the pursuit. Then I swung high and he ducked and before I really knew what happened he grabbed my hair in his hand and pulled me against him, my back to his chest. I thrashed to break free but his grip was too firm and I dropped my sword in the struggle. Fuck.
"Now you have to listen," he began as he growled firmly in my ear, his grip on my hair growing even tighter. "The only reason I said those things was to get a rise out of you." Determined not to listen, I stomped down hard on his foot and although it elicited a loud shriek, his grip never loosened. "Listen to me! You needed something to fight for!"
"Oh, the fate of the world wasn't motivation enough, I suppose?!" I grumbled.
"No, not this time. Right here, in this spot, you were fighting for a man you aren't even sure should be in power. And you were fighting veritable killing machines, one right after another—warriors who don't know the meaning of the word mercy."
"Did it ever occur to you to try to, oh, I don't know, say you support me and believe in me?"
He let out a bitter laugh. "If only. You're fueled by spite, Scarlett. I've seen it time and time again. Me being your cheerleader wasn't going to cut it. You needed something else. Something to ignite that fire that I love about you. That fire that, despite all your tries, has come close to being snuffed out so many times."
"So, in summation, you acted like a complete asshole because you knew I'd fight harder just to prove you wrong?"
I could feel him nod vigorously in agreement. "A true stroke of genius, you must admit."
"…In other words, you fucking played me?" I asked irritably as I continued my futile struggle to break free of his grasp.
"That's such an ugly way of putting it. I merely… er… hoodwinked you. Or bamboozled, if ya like. Yes, bamboozled is much more fun, wouldn't you say?"
Although I couldn't turn around to see him, I could feel that infuriating smirk play across his lips. And then after a moment's pause I felt him breathe in deeply and inhale the scent of my hair.
"If you think for one minute that you—"
"Don't. Move." He commanded in a low murmur against my ear as I felt the cold metal of his rapier against my skin, tearing through the fabric of my shirt. One move, one flinch, and he would cut me. That bastard.
"Just what do you think you are—"
"Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much? Probably not. I get it all the time. I guess what I'm trying to say is, just this once, shut up." He ordered as he pulled what remained of my shirt down and it fell to the floor.
"Alistair!" I yelled, my inflection stuck somewhere between shock and rage. I was still pissed. But that anger was now tinged with something else. Something… primal. And he sensed it. And it made him tighten his grip even more. "You're hurting me."
"I know. And you're loving it."
Grrrrr! With renewed determination I forced myself to turn around and face him, damage from the sword be damned. The blade cut me but after what I'd been through already today, I barely even felt it. He leaned in to kiss me, and I bit his bottom lip so hard I drew blood.
"Oh, so it's going to be like that, is it?" He half-smiled as he used the tip of his tongue to teasingly wipe the blood away.
I just glared at him, unsure of what to do next. Before I could figure out my next move, he grabbed the remains of my shirt from the floor and tackled me to the ground. He climbed on top of me and pinned my wrists to the dirt, binding them together with the torn fabric. And Maker preserve me, I was loving every minute of it.
"Always soooo stubborn." He teased as he kept one hand holding my wrists down and supported his own weight on the other, shifting his position down so he could bring his mouth to my exposed breast. And he bit me. Hard.
I cried out and with all the strength I could muster I managed to buck him off me with my hips. I quickly moved to straddle him this time.
"Apologize." I demanded. He just rolled his eyes.
I balled up my still-bound fists and hit him across the face.
"NOW!" I shouted.
"OUCH! Okay, okay! I love you. I'm sorr—"
I leaned down and crushed my lips against his and he all too enthusiastically reciprocated.
"Good. Now fuck me like you hate me."
His eyes grew wide, apparently shocked by my choice of words before I leaned down and hungrily kissed him again. He sat up and returned my fervor before pushing me off of him and pulling my pants down as fast as he could.
"On your knees." He ordered as he struggled to unfasten his own trousers as quickly as possible. I rolled over onto all fours and immediately felt his hands on either side of my hips and his fingernails digging into my flesh as he thrust up so hard into me that it hurt in the best way. This was exactly what I wanted. He was exactly what I wanted.
"Scarlett…" he called, seemingly to check and make sure I was okay.
"Harder!" I demanded between labored breaths. And he obeyed by leaning back on his haunches and pulling me back to sit on his lap—the new position forcing him to go even deeper than before—and resuming his tight grip on my hair.
The orgasm snuck up on me. My body longed for that sweet release and was happy to attain it by any means possible. I let out a deep, guttural moan as I felt myself climax. But his rhythm never slowed. He just kept going as though nothing had happened. It wasn't like him. Usually once I finished he wasn't far behind.
"Scarlett I… I really do love you. More than anything. You know that, right?" He vowed as he stopped pulling my hair and wrapped his arms around me.
I couldn't help but smile. It was as though he couldn't get over the edge until he had confirmation that I'd forgiven him.
"I love you too, Alistair." I promised as I looked behind me and found his eyes for the briefest of moments before he erupted inside of me with a deep moan. I craned my neck to kiss him sweetly. He broke the kiss gently and smiled against my lips.
"Merciful Andraste! Never before have I been so thrilled to have a woman thoroughly kick my ass." He grinned. I just smiled softly and shook my head. "Soooo… I'm off the hook, right?"
"For now. But no more tricks. No more lies. Deal?"
"Even though I had a really really REALLY good reason for doing it?" he asked innocently.
I nodded. "Even so. We're stronger when we're honest and we communicate with one another. Promise me."
He let out a sigh. "Alright, alright. I'll try to be better about that."
"Thank you." I smiled softly and kissed the tip of his nose. "And for the record, that was… um..."
"I know." He grinned. "When the great Scarlett Cousland is at a loss for words, it's a pretty big deal. I think I owe myself a pat on the back for that one."
"When you tied me up, I… it drove me crazy." I confessed shyly.
"Mmm I'm so glad you liked it." He purred as I felt his hips beginning to move against my form and his excitement beginning to grow again. "I don't know what came over me."
"I did." I grinned teasingly as I moved my hips slowly in rhythm with his.
He held me close with one arm and reached around and began rubbing me. I let out a sharp gasp as soon as I felt him, which he reciprocated with a deep moan into my oh-so-sensitive ear.
"Maker's breath," I whispered as I felt that familiar heat beginning to swell up in the deepest depths of my core.
"Come for me, Scarlett. Drown me."
Something about his delicious voice in my ear just downright does it for me. My eyes rolled and my back arched as soon as I heard his plea and I felt wave after wave of pleasure wash over me as he continued his slow, measured thrusts inside me.
"Turn around. I need to see you." He directed softly into my ear. I got off of him for a moment as he lay back on the ground, then moved as fast as I could to straddle him again. I moved my still-bound hands behind his neck and my hair fell around us like a curtain as I rode him slowly, driving my hips down onto him over and over and over again.
"You're so beautiful." He whispered as he leaned up to kiss me. I smiled and kissed him back as I tightened my thighs on either side of him and began moving my hips faster. As soon as the kiss broke I could hear him beginning to pant against my parted lips. When he couldn't take it anymore he sat up, taking me with him, and drove himself as deep as he possibly could before finishing inside of me with a low groan inside my mouth.
"Alistair?" I whispered against his lips as the rhythm of our hips slowed to a halt.
"My love?" he called back before brushing his lips softly against mine.
"May I ask you for something?"
"Anything." He smiled as he nuzzled my nose with his.
"Untie me?"
He let out a nervous chuckle. "Whoops! Ahem. Yes, of course."
I lifted my arms from around his neck and held them out to him. He grabbed his rapier and cut the bonds. And that's when I remembered I was completely without a shirt and we were now covered from head to toe in dirt. Lovely.
"Ugh, we're so dirty!" I exclaimed with disgust.
"I know, but it's so much fun." He grinned. I playfully bopped his head.
"I meant that literally."
"Oh. Right." He caught on as he looked at our soil-stained skin and clothes. "Well, luckily in a joint like Tapsters, no one is going to notice a thing." He smirked.
"Need I point out that I'm without a shirt? Call me crazy, but I think there a couple of things people are bound to notice."
"Yeeeaaah, I guess I didn't think that far ahead. My fault." He grinned. "Anyone with a pulse is bound to notice those."
"Give me yours." I demanded as I began tugging at the hem of his tunic.
"What?! What am I supposed to do?!" He shrieked as he moved to stop me.
"Figure it out! You owe me!"
"Ugh. Fine. Just so you know, I hate wearing armor without anything underneath it. It chafes. So, just let that… eat away at your conscience." He pouted as he stuck his tongue out at me.
"Somehow I think my conscience can take it." I countered as I pulled his shirt—ripped and bloody in several places thanks to yours truly—off of him. I had to admit, seeing him shirtless still did all kinds of things to me, regardless of the fact that we'd just made love. Twice. Yeah, I know. I'm hopeless.
"Once more, with feeling?" He smirked as he noticed my reaction to his newly exposed state. Damnit. Busted.
"Tempting, but no. We have work to do." I explained as I stood up and put the shirt on.
"You must be beyond exhausted, my love. Let's head back and rest and deal with this tomorrow with a clean slate."
"Fine. On this one point, I will concede." I smiled.
"Well, it had to happen sometime." He smiled brightly back.
…
"Well, it's about time you two returned. Did you work things out?" Wynne inquired as soon as we met up with the rest of the group just outside the tavern entrance.
"Oh, they worked things out alright. Twice, unless I miss my guess—and I never do." Zevran chimed in.
Alistair and I both turned an extremely bright shade of red.
"It's um... we managed to reach an understanding, right, honey? Tied up all the loose ends? Got all the uh… kinks worked out, so to speak?" Alistair grinned. Really? I barely have enough energy to stand and he's making puns?
"…Right. Anyway," I began, desperate to change the subject as quickly as possible, "What did you find out?"
Before anyone had the chance to open their mouths and answer me, our good friend Vartag (Bhelen's lackey, lest you have forgotten), stormed up to us, so hopping mad I could have sworn I saw some steam spewing from his ears.
"You! You treasonous, devious little pretender! How dare you publicly cast your support for that usurper?! When Bhelen is crowned I will personally see to it that he has your head for this!" he wailed. Not good. I was too tired for this shit.
"Calm down, Vartag. Things aren't always as they seem." I offered before failing to stifle a yawn.
"Explain yourself. Now." The dwarf demanded impatiently.
"What better way to gain intel than to pretend to cast my support for Harrowmont and betray him from within? Now I have his trust and can find out exactly what he's planning. I'd call that a rather large advantage, wouldn't you agree?"
Vartag furrowed his brow as he considered my explanation. When he finally pieced the puzzle together, he patted me on the back. Hard.
"Aha! What a delightful mind you have, Warden! Now Harrowmont has no reason to believe you're anything but his champion, on the Proving grounds and off. Yes, let's proceed. Go find out exactly what Harrowmont is planning and report back to me."
I gave him a nod and left to enter the tavern, where Dulin was waiting for us.
"Atrast Vala, champion. I hear your performance in the Proving was nothing short of amazing. There can no longer be any doubt of where your sympathies lie. If you're ready, Lord Harrowmont will see you now."
"Thanks, Dulin, but the only thing I want to see right now is the back of my eyelids. May I meet with him in the morning?"
He let out a hearty laugh. "Of course. Your exertions in the arena were no doubt most exhausting."
"So were her exertions afterward." Zevran quietly quipped. I elbowed him hard in the stomach.
"I will tell Lord Harrowmont to expect you tomorrow morning. We appreciate your support, Warden."
And with that, Dulin left.
"What are you doing, Scarlett? You gave that dwarf your word and now you're intending to betray him? This isn't like you. This is… underhanded. Deceitful."
"Scarlett is doing what is necessary to keep her head above water, Wynne." Leliana defended. "This is exactly how the game is played. Always keep them guessing."
"What about keeping your word? What about doing the right thing? Does honor count for nothing?" Wynne asked.
"Not in politics." Leliana answered plainly.
"Listen, I still haven't met either of the candidates in person. Call me crazy, but I feel like that's a pretty important step before making a decision. I'll meet Harrowmont tomorrow and size him up—see what type of man he really is. Then I'll meet Bhelen and do the same. Only then am I comfortable making any sort of decision regarding this whole thing. Okay?"
"I… I suppose that makes sense. But do tread carefully, Scarlett. Tis a dangerous game you're playing."
"Oh, she's playing like she was born for it." Leliana beamed. "I couldn't have handled those dwarves any better myself. You're a natural."
I couldn't help but smile. "Thanks, Leliana. Let's all try to get some rest. We have another big day of faking it 'til we make it tomorrow."
…
Just in case you were wondering, dwarven beds are not made with tall people—such as Alistair and myself—in mind. We had quite a time finding a halfway comfortable sleeping position that didn't involve half of our limbs hanging off the bed. Well, he had quite a time. I pretty much passed out as soon as my head hit the tiny pillow. With the Deep Roads and the darkspawn being so close by, I thought for sure that the nightmares would be even worse than usual, but I can't recollect a single one. Maybe that's the trick to this whole being a Grey Warden thing—exert your body to the point of absolute exhaustion so your subconscious can't do anything but completely shut down while you sleep. Sound logic, right?
When I awoke I sat up and, of course, immediately bumped my head on the ceiling. Ouch. And that little bump somehow managed to bring my attention to all of the other cuts and bruises I suffered thanks to yesterday's fights. Everything ached and popped and stung when I moved even the slightest bit. And then, of course, there came a knock at the door.
"Who is it?" I called.
"Corra. I thought you might like some breakfast."
I rubbed my eyes and, ever so slowly, got up from bed, taking great care to duck.
"Good morning." She greeted as I opened the door.
"Morning." I tried to give her my most polite smile.
"Brought you this."
"What is it?" I asked.
"Oh you know, a traditional dwarven breakfast. On the house for the great champion of the Glory Proving."
"That's very kind of you but… the only thing on that tray is ale."
She gave me a blank stare. "…And?"
I just gave her my best smile and took the drinks. "Thanks very much."
She gave me a nod and headed back downstairs as I placed the flagons on a small side table. Meanwhile, Alistair sat up in bed and, of course, hit his head as well.
"Ow." He grimaced before rubbing his head.
"Yeah, watch out for that low ceiling. It's a doozy." I smirked.
"Thanks for the warning… What is that smell?"
"A 'traditional dwarven breakfast', or so I'm told."
"Right. Perhaps we should hit the markets before seeing our good friend Harrowmont. We need some real food and you, as I recall, are in dire need of a new shirt."
"If these lodgings are any indication, I sort of doubt Orzammar tailors design shirts with six-foot-tall, rather buxom women in mind. Everything will be too tight and revealing and—"
"…Is there a downside here?"
I just chuckled and shook my head. "Alright. Let's rouse the others and see what there is to see."
As it turns out, some actual solid food does exist in Orzammar, if one knows where to look. We managed to find one of the few vendors who frequently trades with the surface who had some bread and cheese and wine to sell, in addition to clothes in human sizes. Score! The prices were steep but that merchant was pretty much the only game in town. Unfortunately, that doesn't leave much room for bargaining. I opted for a simple royal blue blouse with a slightly ruffled neckline that was just low-cut enough to make me feel self-conscious. But, beggars can't be choosers, as they say.
"You know, I think blue might be your color. Oh, who am I kidding? You could be wearing a burlap sack and I'd still be in awe of your beauty." Alistair complimented as he looked me up and down with a wide smile. Aaaaaand I was blushing. Again.
"You're very sweet." I smiled brightly back before giving him a quick kiss.
"Nah, just honest."
"The shirt is very becoming, Scarlett." Leliana agreed. Then she turned her attention to Morrigan, still clad in the same barely there clothes she'd worn the day I met her. "You are very beautiful Morrigan, but you always dress in such rags. It suits you I suppose. A little tear here, a little rip there to show some skin. I understand."
"You understand I lived in a forest, I hope?" Morrigan asked.
"Maybe we could get you in a nice dress one day. Silk. No, maybe velvet. Velvet is heavier, better to guard against the cold in Ferelden. Dark red velvet, yes. With gold embroidery. It should be cut low in the front of course; we don't want to hide your features."
"Stop looking at my breasts like that. Tis most disturbing!"
Now they had Zev's undivided attention, though he tried to play it cool. I knew better. Something about the mention of breasts manages to draw him like a moth to a flame. Crazy, I know. I was just trying to stay focused on the task at hand but the exchange was so… uncomfortable I had to keep listening. Much in the same way you can't stop looking at a building that's burning to the ground.
"You don't think so? And if it's cut low in the front we must put your hair up to show off that lovely neck." Leliana added.
"You are insane. I would sooner let Alistair dress me." Morrigan countered.
"No. Way. You may think I'm a fool but every man is taught at a very early age to never come between a woman and her wardrobe. I have taken this lesson to heart." Alistair vowed playfully with his hand over his chest.
"It'll be fun, I promise! We'll get some shoes, too! Ah, shoes! We could go shopping together! Scarlett, you should come with us!" Leliana clapped her hands excitedly. Morrigan just rolled her eyes.
"Perhaps some other time, ladies. We'll make a day of it, I promise. Right now, we need to figure out who should rule Orzammar to avoid a civil war and get our army to defeat the Blight. K?"
"Kill joy." Leliana muttered as we strode onward.
We knocked on Harrowmont's door and Dulin greeted us and led the way to his lord.
"I appreciate what you have done, Warden, and I apologize for putting one of your rank through such trials. I am Lord Pyral Harrowmont and I thank you for your efforts in helping me preserve King Endrin's throne."
"Oh, don't mention it. So, is it safe to say I have your support against the Blight?" I asked, knowing full well this little quest was far from over.
"For us, the darkspawn are a constant menace, so a Blight may not elicit the same urgency you are used to. Ultimately, the Assembly decides what troops to send. If they no longer fear a civil war, there will be no reason to hold back. If you want my support, I have to be king, and right now, there is no sure way to get there."
"Point me in a direction." My patience was running thing.
"Have you heard of a woman named Jarvia? And the criminal carta she runs?" He asked.
"The name rings a bell, but I've heard nothing but whispers. Why?" I asked.
Harrowmont explained that the common folk are constantly pleading with the Assembly that Jarvia be stopped. Apparently, no one had yet succeeded in stopping her. Guess who Harrowmont asked to finish the job…
"If you would help me in this, it would show the Assembly that I, not Bhelen, have the ability to defend and rule the city."
This marked the second time Harrowmont asked an outsider to fight one of his battles for him. Not a great quality in a future king.
"I'll take care of it. Just have those troops ready." I promised as I turned and walked out.
"To Dust Town?" Zevran asked. "I confess I've been feeling a bit homesick. A town filled with nothing but outcasts and criminals sounds quite appealing."
"Not yet. We need to find Vartag first."
When we exited House Harrowmont, I couldn't help but overhear a rather loud quarrel between a young, apparently warrior-caste dwarf and another clearly inebriated, ginger-haired dwarf with a low, gravelly voice.
"It'll be two years tomorrow! By all the sodding ancestors, how can you people just ignore that?!" the ginger wailed.
"Branka didn't go alone, Oghren. She took the whole house. Everybody but you. So just get over to Tapsters and drown yourself already. You know as well as I do that's how this always ends."
"You think I'm afraid of some cub warrior whose barely off the teat? Ha! I'll—"
"You lift a weapon or attack a single citizen in Orzammar, and you're stripped of your caste and exiled. Even you can't have forgotten that. Get out of here before I call a guardsman." The warrior explained.
Branka… Branka… I knew that name from somewhere. But where… Oh holy fuck, she's the missing Paragon everyone's all up in arms about! I broke out into a quick jog to catch up with Oscar. Odin. Whatever his name was.
"Hey!" I called out.
"Yeah? What do you want?!" the dwarf groaned.
"You… you said something about Branka. You spoke as if you knew her. What can you tell me?" I asked.
"Why? So you can pretend to care? Hey, I heard about you. Grey Warden. Coming from the surface. Great crisis in the world. People are saying how you've thrown yourself onto Harrowmont's wagon train. I figured you'd be the one, you know, who could help me find Branka. But I guess you're just like all the rest."
"My only concern is defeating the oncoming Blight." I explained plainly.
"You don't need a king to defeat a Blight. You need a Paragon. And the city's only living one has been lost in the Deep Roads for two years. Two years and no one's raised a bleeding army to go look for her! Why do you care, huh? You looking to uncover all her secrets? Is that what Harrowmont wants?"
"I want to quickest route to securing aid against a Blight. If finding this Paragon is what it takes, so be it."
"Well, I know both Harrowmont and Bhelen have been asking about her. Two years without a peep and suddenly now they want to start looking."
"It makes sense, if a Paragon supersedes the authority of the Assembly. Get a Paragon to endorse your claim to the throne, and this bloody struggle comes to an abrupt end."
"Well well well, look who can put two and two together. Look, you find out what they know and tell me, and it might help in my search to find her. Or don't. It's all the same to me."
And he turned and kept on walking—likely headed to the tavern judging by the smell. And I just let him go. One problem at a time, Scarlett.
I went and found Vartag and explained the whole Jarvia thing. He advised me to go ahead with the plan, and while I'm at it, to plant a few papers on Jarvia's corpse, "proving" that Harrowmont's cousin Harvel is implicated in lyrium smuggling with the carta. And this is the second time someone in Bhelen's camp has asked me to work with falsified evidence.
Aaaaand I'm just as torn as ever. Fuck. Looks like this is gonna have to be a game-time decision. And Alistair said I always have to have a plan. Psh. Shows what he knows. When it comes to Orzammar's future ruler, I'm just flying by the seat of my pants. What could possibly go wrong?