Chapter 52

Friends in High Places

Disclaimer – I don't own Dragon Age or any of its characters

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As we waited for the Landsmeet – which was in three days – Alistair and I went to the Market District, searching for the Grey Warden Vault that Riordan had told me about. Aedan and Selina had decided to come along as well – despite Arl Eamon's warm welcome, the two didn't want to wear on his hospitality by hanging about the estate.

"So those swords of yours…" Aedan remarked, looking at the blades at our hips, "they're…very similar in design to my family sword."

"Well…" I began, pursing my lips as we came to the address Riordan had given us, "I know this will…probably sound crazy," I continued, stepping into the warehouse and looking at the stacks of crates and boxes piled around the room, "but our three blades were once owned by the same man." I spotted the pair of empty shelves Riordan had detailed, and held the page with the code out for Alistair to see as he turned an elaborate, circular combination lock.

"That doesn't sound crazy to me," Selina remarked, and Alistair shrugged.

"She's not done," he said, not turning his gaze from the lock.

"What if I told you that the man was an Elvhenan Arcane Warrior – both mage and warrior at once – who sealed his soul inside of a gemstone since the time before Arlathan's fall?" I asked, and the two looked at me with wide eyes.

"I…wow…" Selina murmured, looking at the blades. "These things are ancient…"

"And yet they show no sign of age," Aedan added, drawing his rapier and turning it over, the blue runes glowing as the metal hummed faintly.

"Your blade is Fragarach," I said, placing my hand very lightly along the flat of the blade. "It is part of a trio of blades – the saber Claíomh Solais, and the longsword Caladbolg."

"So…what happens now that all three are together?" Aedan asked. There was a faint click from the locking mechanism as Alistair finished entering the code, and it whirled in a circle, making louder clicking sounds. The pair of shelves on the wall shuddered and slid open to reveal a hidden passageway that led deep underground.

"No idea," I replied simply, and Selina chuckled.

"Oh, I was hoping for some sort of prophecy or legend," the mage said, and I smirked.

"If there is one, the spirit didn't say – most of his memory was gone by the time we found him, and he was almost mad from isolation," I admitted. We walked through the dark hall and down ancient stone steps, Selina lighting the way with a glowing were-light until we found a lantern by the bottom of the stairs.

"It would have been nice if they had put one of these at the top of the stairs. Just saying," Alistair remarked, thanking Selina when she lit a lantern for him. We each took either a lantern or one of the candles that were lying about, exploring the large storeroom. It was dusty, but some areas looked as if they had been disturbed more recently. Was Riordan down here before he was captured? I wondered, or maybe some of the other Grey Wardens, before Ostagar.

I found a large chest in the corner of the room, and I knelt in front of it, opening it and finding a beautiful shield. It was masterfully crafted – made of silverite – bearing the blue and white herald of a griffon, rampant, with its wings spread out behind it. There was a letter in the bottom of the box, and I unfolded it, holding the candle close by so that I could read.

I grinned as I folded the note away – this shield had been a gift to Duncan on becoming the Warden-Commander of Ferelden. He was a rogue, though, so I doubted that this shield had ever seen battle. "Alistair, come here!" I called, and he came over quickly, looking around and spotting me kneeling next to the chest. I had closed it, getting to my feet and stepping back. "Open it," I prompted, and he looked at me suspiciously.

"…why?" he asked, narrowing his eyes as he saw the grin on my face. "Something's going to jump out at me, isn't it?" he questioned, and I rolled my eyes.

"Oh just open the chest," I insisted. "It's a nice surprise," I added, and he relaxed slightly. He opened the chest, staring down at the shield with big eyes. "And read the letter," I said, and he found the letter, his eyes moving quickly over the words.

"This…this shield. It's Duncan's…" he breathed, gently putting the letter down. I took the lantern from his hand as he picked up the shield, looking it over as his eyes misted up.

"You said you wanted something to remember him by," I said gently, and Alistair nodded slowly, his fingers tightening around the edge of the shield.

"I did. I really did. I just never expected…" he trailed off, a sad smile spreading across his lips, and he looked back at me with shining eyes. "Thank you," he said sincerely. "Truly, I had no idea his shield wasn't with him. This is perfect," he breathed, sliding the shield's longest strap over his shoulder as he blinked away the moisture in his eyes. "I don't know how to express my gratitude. This means a great deal to me."

"For you? Anything," I smiled, and he beamed from ear to ear.

"I…I don't know what to say. I'll treasure this. Thank you," he said again, leaning over and kissing me lightly on the cheek.

oooo

Zevran found me the next day in the library as I browsed the shelves, and I hopped down from the stepladder, greeting him. He seemed less tense as of late – it was as if a weight had been taken off his shoulders. I noticed that his earring was missing, but didn't mention anything; I recalled overhearing his and Neria's conversation after confronting the Crows, and assumed that the earring had found a new owner.

"Hello Zev," I said, "did you need something?"

He smiled slightly, his eyes warm as he looked at me. "I did not thank you," he began. "It occurs to me now that you have freed me from the Crows, and yet I did not think to thank you for it," he added. "No matter why you did it, still it was done, and I the benefactor. So…thank you," he bowed his head to me, and I smiled back, taking his hands in mine.

"We're friends, Zev – we watch out for each other," I replied, and he chuckled at my words.

"You say that so quickly, and yet it is an odd thing for me to hear," he admitted. "In the Crows, we do not have 'friends', and yet here you are, and I cannot help but consider you such."

"I consider you a friend, as well," I said. His eyes became serious, and he folded his hands over mine as he looked at me.

"Then allow me to say this. What we are doing here – stopping the Blight; I cannot think of anything I have ever done which is so worthy," he began. "I intend to see this through to the end with you," he vowed. "After all…someone must take responsibility for preventing your untimely death. A suitable task for a friend, yes?" he added with a chuckle, and I smiled.

"You never know what's going to happen," I teased, and he grinned.

"If someone had said to me just a year ago, 'Zevran, my lad, you're going to fail against your most important mark and it will be the smartest thing you've ever done', I would have slit his throat. So, yes, I'm right with you on the 'never know what's going to happen' bit," he replied. "I believe I founded the club."

oooo

The remaining days before the Landsmeet flew by; each day, Alistair and I went to Eamon's office, planning out what we should say at the Landsmeet. "Loghain seems to see Adeline as the more direct threat," Eamon said, "which will keep his attention from Alistair. I suggest you focus on the Blight to gain the sympathies of the nobles you have not won support from yet; directly attacking Loghain from the start of the Landsmeet will get us nowhere."

Alistair and I were also fitted with new armor – Wade had managed to finish our orders the day before the Landsmeet. Alistair was wearing a set of medium dragon-scale armor, and my own set was made of lighter drake-skin; we had brought the materials back from Haven with us, and Wade had nearly fainted with excitement at the prospect of working with the exotic resources.

Alistair's armor had been polished until it shone faintly, the golden material of the sleeves not blindingly bright like Cailan's plate armor. The breastplate was covered with a white cloth vest that had elegant gold designs along the front, the pauldrons padded with leather, with chainmail sleeves. The set included black, metal-backed gloves up to his elbows, and steel-toed boots that went over his knees. The look was completed with a short, half-cape in gold that hung over his right shoulder, opposite Duncan's shield, made of flame-resistant dragon wing membrane – that, combined with the enchanted ring I had gotten him, would make Alistair almost fireproof in battle.

My armor was a coat of leathery drake-skin; the first time I had seen it, I almost asked what it was – I had no idea that armor could be both beautiful and functional. The color was dark navy, almost black – there were thick, black leggings, and a padded drake-skin overcoat that fell down to my knees, with slits up the sides to my hips so that my movement wouldn't be impaired. The front of the armor was covered with a layer of silver chain-mail from my collarbone to my pelvis, the center decorated with a pair of griffons side-by-side, a wing spread out to the right and left. Black, padded gloves stretched up to my elbows, and I had allowed Wade to improve my mother's boots with drake-skin.

"Now is better armor really so bad?" Alistair teased as he looked me over. I held my arms out and spun in a small circle, showing off the front and back.

"Maybe not," I replied with a smirk. "Now come on – I want to go test this out," I added, thanking Wade and Herren before taking Alistair's hand, leading him back towards Eamon's estate so we could spar.

"Alright, alright," Alistair chuckled as we trotted through the Market District, "but let's not get bruised up too much – the Landsmeet's tomorrow," he reminded me, and I smirked as we reached the courtyard, drawing my daggers, favoring them over my saber for now.

"I'll try to go easy on you, then, Chantry Boy," I winked, and Alistair grinned.

"Remember those words when your backside hits the ground, kitten," he replied, and we leapt at one another, meeting in a clash of metal and sparks.

oooo

Eamon left for the Landsmeet an hour early – he was setting his men in place inside the Royal Palace, should Loghain try anything. Alistair was fidgeting nervously as he tried to buckle on his armor, and I smiled slightly, placing my hands gently on either side of his face. "Don't worry – everything will work out," I assured him, and he let out a long sigh.

"Right. Now that we're entering a building full of Loghain's personal guard, everything will be fine," he replied, and I chuckled, kissing him.

"That's the spirit," I teased, helping him with the rest of his armor. Our company would remain at the estate, besides Aedan – he wanted to be present for the Landsmeet in his father's stead, to publicly speak out against the Howes. We invited Riordan as well, but he said that he had urgent business to attend to at the moment, and would join us if he could.

Alistair and I marched through the streets of Denerim side by side, escorted by Arl Eamon's estate guards. Two men in front carried banners with the Theirin and Grey Warden crests, causing a stir in the crowded streets as we passed through, heading towards the Royal Palace. Despite his initial unease, Alistair looked calm as we walked – almost relaxed – and I smiled faintly at how quickly he could adjust to his situation.

The guards at the palace gates almost didn't open them for us – I had to Charm the guard captain to let us through peacefully. We walked into the Royal Palace, entering a grand hall before the Landsmeet Chamber, only to be stopped again by none other than Ser Cauthrien. The woman looked at us with disdain as we approached, and immediately drew her blade, six guards at her back blocking the Landsmeet doors.

"Warden, I am not surprised it has come to this," she remarked, looking down her nose at me, her eyes dark. "And Alistair. If you were even remotely worthy of being called Maric's son, you would already be in the Landsmeet, now wouldn't you?" she added scathingly, and I gritted my teeth – it took all my self-control not to chop her head off right then and there. "You have torn Ferelden apart to oppose the very man who ensured you were born into freedom," she continued. "But do not think you will get past me to desecrate the Landsmeet itself. The nobles of Ferelden will confirm my lord as regent, and we can finally put this–"

"Oh shut the fuck up Cauthrien," I barked, cutting her off – I couldn't take her high-and-mighty act any longer. "I am sick of hearing you spewing this self-righteous garbage. If you dare stand in my way, I will make sure you rue the day you ever thought to serve Loghain," I snarled, drawing my saber and advancing on her. "You are a fool if you can't see the monster he has become."

Cauthrien looked shocked, and she took a shaky step back at the malice in my voice. "I have had…so many doubts of late," she admitted softly, her earlier posturing now gone. "Loghain is a great man, but his hatred of Orlais has driven him to madness. He has done terrible things, I know it, but I owe him everything. I cannot betray him, do not ask me to!" she cried, and I lowered my blade as I saw the desperation in her eyes.

"Then let me stop him. You know it's the only way," I said, my voice a little gentler.

"I never thought duty would taste so bitter," Cauthrien sighed ruefully. "Stop him, Warden. Stop him from betraying everything he once loved," she said, looking back at me. "Please…show mercy. Without Loghain, there would be no Ferelden to defend," she pleaded, stepping aside and motioning for her men to do the same.

Alistair and I slipped into the Landsmeet Chamber as quietly as we could, and I watched as he disappeared into the crowd, appearing a few minutes later behind Eamon in the Arl's raised balcony, nodding in silent greeting. I stood among the crowd of assembled nobles, looking towards the other balconies and spotting the nobles who had promised their support. Aedan was nowhere to be seen among the crowd below, but glancing back up, I spotted him up in the balcony with Eamon, standing in the shadows with a heavy grey cloak over his shoulders.

Eamon stepped towards the front of his balcony, Alistair moving to stand slightly behind him as they looked over the Landsmeet. Eamon cleared his throat, addressing the crowd below, making grand gestures as he spoke. "My lords and ladies of the Landsmeet, Teyrn Loghain would have us give up our freedoms, our traditions, out of fear! He placed us on this path, yet we should place our destiny in his hands? Must we sacrifice everything good about our nation to save it?" he argued, and the nobles looked up at him intently. I could hear a large amount of angry muttering from those assembled, but above that rose a loud, sharp sound; slow, mocking applause.

Loghain watched the Arl of Redcliffe, thoroughly unimpressed with his words as he clapped mockingly. "A fine performance, Eamon, but no one here is taken in by it," he scoffed, looking at Eamon with contempt. "You would attempt to put a puppet on the throne and every soul here knows it. The better question is, 'Who will pull the strings?'," the regent asked, looking up at Alistair, who was watching him with intense, controlled hatred.

I moved from my position by the door, slowly making my way past the assembled nobles; those who recognized me began murmuring in surprise, and the crowd parted as I walked to the center of the room, standing across from Loghain in a pool of sunlight, so that my hair blazed around my face and shoulders like fire. He glanced over at the noise, his eyes hardening as he saw me, gesturing and drawing the rest of the room's attention to me.

"Ah! And here we have the puppeteer," he remarked scornfully, and I raised my chin challengingly, my eyes cool as I remained icy calm.

"Lords and Ladies, I present Adeline Tabris, a Grey Warden, and acting Warden-Commander of Ferelden," Arl Eamon said, and murmurs went through chamber. Loghain scoffed, shaking his head and moving forward, stalking around me in a slow circle.

"Tell us, Warden – how will the Orlesians take our nation from us?" his eyes were dark and predatory as he moved, and I could feel the gaze of every person in the room on my back. I kept my breathing slow and controlled – I wouldn't let anxiety dull my wits. "Will they deign to send their troops, or simply issue their commands through this would-be prince?" the regent asked, indicating Alistair as he stood in the balcony next to Eamon. "How much Fereldan blood does Orlesian gold buy these days?" he demanded, his eyes narrowed.

"The Blight is the threat here, not Orlais," I remarked, drawing a murmur of agreement from the assembled nobility.

"There are enough refugees in my bannorn now to make that abundantly clear," Bann Alfstanna chimed in, placing her hands on the balcony and looking down at Loghain.

"The south is fallen, Loghain! Will you let darkspawn take the whole country for fear of Orlais?" Arl Wulff demanded, slamming his fist against the balcony.

"The Blight is indeed real, Wulff," Loghain acknowledged, "but do we need Grey Wardens to fight it?" he asked. "They claim that they alone can end the Blight, yet they failed spectacularly against the darkspawn at Ostagar, and they ask to bring with them four legions of chevaliers," he continued, his voice rising in anger at the mention of the Orlesian knights. "And once we open our borders to the chevaliers, can we really expect them to simply return from whence they came?"

He was trying to turn the focus towards Orlais, instead of the Blight, and I could hear murmurs of assent from the crowd. Change the subject…I thought, raising my chin as I turned to address the regent. "Funny that you should mention gold buying Fereldan blood, while you yourself sell Fereldan citizens into slavery to fund your war," I accused, and shouts of confusion and outrage rumbled through the chamber.

"What's this? There is no slavery in Ferelden. Explain yourself," demanded Bann Sighard, his eyes widening as I produced the slaver documents, passing them to a page, who ran to the balcony stairs and distributed them to the nobles. Gasps of outrage echoed through the chamber as the nobles saw the seal of Gawren on the documents.

"There is no saving the Alienage," Loghain scoffed, trying to brush off my words. "Damage from the riots has yet to be repaired. There are bodies still rotting in their homes. It is not a place I would send my worst enemy. There is no chance of holding it if the Blight comes here," he argued, and I felt my eyes narrow in anger. "Despite what you may think, Warden, I have done my duty. Whatever my regrets may be for the Elves, I have done what was needed for the good of Ferelden."

"And did you let the usurper Howe – who slaughtered the Couslands in their own home – torture citizens for the 'good of Ferelden' as well?" I demanded, and another roar of outrage echoed through the chamber at my words.

"Howe took my only son! The things done to him…some are beyond any healer's skill," Bann Sighard exclaimed, glaring at Loghain.

"Howe was a grown man responsible for his own actions. He will answer to the Maker for his crimes, as must we all," Loghain replied.

"And yet you named him Teyrn of Highever, after what he had done to the Couslands?" I countered, and Loghain looked at me with disdain.

"The Couslands were taken by a band of outlaws, shortly after their main forces left. Bryce's death is unfortunate, but–"

"Do not insult my father, Loghain – you have no right to speak his name," Aedan barked, stepping forward on the balcony and sweeping off the cloak; he was wearing finely crafted leather armor in blue and white – the Cousland colors – with the curved laurel crest emblazoned on the chest, and the right shoulder. Startled gasps rustled across the room as the nobles recognized him. "Rendon Howe set his army upon Highever castle while our forces marched towards Ostagar – I am one of the few to survive his treachery, and I demand justice."

Loghain glowered up at Aedan, shaking his head. "And Howe will answer for his crimes, as will the Grey Wardens," he nearly snarled, returning his gaze to me.

"Answer for our crimes?" I echoed. "So will you answer to the crime of sending an apostate to poison Eamon?" I asked. Sorry Jowan, I thought – he would have to change his name either way, since the Templars already knew him.

"I assure you, Warden, if I were going to send someone, it would be my own soldiers. I would not trust to the discretion of an apostate," Loghain scoffed, shaking his head. Bann Alfstanna leaned over her balcony, raising an eyebrow at the regent's denial.

"Indeed? My brother tells a very different tale," the woman countered. "He says you snatched a blood mage from the Chantry's justice. Coincidence?" she asked, glancing towards the Grand Cleric, who narrowed her eyes at Loghain.

"Do not think the Chantry will overlook this, Teyrn Loghain. Interference in a Templar's sacred duties is an offense against the Maker," the old woman remarked.

"Whatever I have done, I will answer for later. At the moment, however, I wish to know what this Warden has done with my daughter," the regent said, turning attention back to me.

"What have I done?" I asked, crossing my arms. "I've protected her from you."

"You took my daughter – our queen – by force, killing her guards in the process" Loghain accused. "What arts have you employed to keep her? Does she even still live?"

"I believe I can speak for myself." The crowd parted with small, startled exclamations as Anora stepped regally forth, her head held high. "Lords and ladies of Ferelden, hear me," she called, addressing the Landsmeet. "My father is no longer the man you know. This man is not the hero of River Dane. This man turned his troops aside and refused to protect your king as he fought bravely against the darkspawn. This man seized Cailan's throne before his body was cold and locked me away so I could not reveal his treachery. I would have already been killed, if not for this Grey Warden," Anora said imperiously, indicating me, and I bowed my head slightly.

Loghain looked outraged at first, but calmed his anger quickly, looking at his daughter almost pityingly. "So the Warden's influence has poisoned even your mind, Anora?" the man asked, shaking his head. "I wanted to protect you from this," he murmured, turning his attention back to the gathered nobles. "My lords and ladies, our land has been threatened before. It's been invaded, and lost, and won times beyond counting. We Fereldans have proven that we will never truly be conquered so long as we are united. We must not let ourselves be divided now. Stand with me, and we shall defeat even the Blight itself," he said, closing the debate and demanding a vote.

"South Reach stands with the Grey Wardens," Arl Bryland voted.

"Waking Sea stands with the Grey Wardens!" Bann Alfstanna cried.

"Dragon's Peak supports the Wardens!" Bann Sighard called.

"The Western Hills throw their lot in with the Wardens. Maker help us," Arl Wulff said.

"The rightful heir of Highever supports the Wardens!" Aedan shouted, a broad grin on his face as I smiled at him.

"I stand by Loghain! We've no hope of victory otherwise," Bann Ceorlic called.

"I stand with the Warden! The Blight is coming; we need the Grey Wardens!" another noble called, and the Landsmeet erupted in cheers and chants of 'Grey Wardens'.

I turned to face Loghain, whose eyes had hardened with fury as he glared at the assembled nobility. "The Landsmeet is against you, Loghain. Step down gracefully, and answer for what you've done," I said, and he lost it.

"Traitors!" he roared, silencing the crowd. "Which of you stood against the Orlesian emperor when his troops flattened your fields and raped your wives?" he demanded, turning towards Eamon and pointing an accusatory finger at the man. "You fought with us once, Eamon. You cared about this land once. Before you got too old and fat and content to even see what you risk," Loghain spat, turning his glare on the other nobles. "None of you deserve a say in what happens here! None of you have spilled blood for this land the way I have! How dare you judge me!" he roared, raising an arm.

Soldiers poured into the hall from side chambers, armor flashing in the sunlight as they drew their swords and raised their crossbows. The personal guards of the assembled nobles were outmatched – most had only brought one or two – and the people began to panic. Arl Eamon let out a piercing whistle, and his own men came in through the Landsmeet Chamber's main doors, forming a defensive barrier around the nobles on the ground floor, raising their shields in anticipation of crossbow fire.

The room fell deadly silent as Loghain stood a few feet from me, and I looked at him levelly, my voice calm as I spoke. "Call off your men and we'll settle this honorably," I offered. "Attacking the nobility will do more harm than good – there really will be a civil war if they die," I added, indicating the assembled nobles. Loghain narrowed his eyes but lowered his hand, making his men stand down.

"Then let us end this," he agreed. "I suppose we both knew it would come to this. When we first met at Ostagar, I would never have thought so," he admitted, sounding almost lucid. "But Ostagar seems like it happened in another lifetime, to someone else," Loghain sighed. "A man is made by the quality of his enemies – Maric told me that once," he said. "I wonder if it's more a compliment to you or me," he mused. "Enough. Let the Landsmeet declare the terms of the duel."

Bann Alfstanna leaned over her balcony, calling for attention. "It shall be fought according to tradition; a test of arms in single combat until one party yields," she called. "And we who are assembled will abide by the outcome."

Loghain glanced back at me, drawing his sword and buckling on his shield. "Will you face me yourself, or have you a champion?" he asked. Before I could speak, I heard the gentle clicking of armored boots on the stone floor, and Alistair was at my side.

"I will face you," Alistair answered coolly, and I bowed my head, taking a few steps back so that they had room.

"Then let us test the mettle of our would-be king. Prepare yourself," Loghain said, watching as Alistair buckled on the Grey Warden shield and drew his blade, the silver and blue sword making the faintest humming sound as it was unsheathed. Loghain narrowed his eyes at the longsword – this was Maric's old blade.

I watched as the two circled slowly, eyes moving quickly over their opponent as they sought a weakness. Loghain was more experienced, but Alistair had been in combat far more recently, and was much lighter on his feet – Loghain's plate armor was like a turtle's shell, and I almost smiled as I thought of Sten's words; it was a strength that would become a weakness.

They met in a clash of steel and sparks, battering their blades against one another as they lashed out with their shields. Alistair was pushed back a bit after the initial attack, falling into a defensive stance as Loghain worried at him with his sword; he was trying to wear the older man out, and, blinded by his anger, the regent was walking into a trap.

The fight lasted for more than ten minutes, with both opponents seeming evenly matched. They panted for breath, battered and bruised, and Loghain braced himself for a final assault as he saw Alistair's shield-arm go limp. He ran at the Grey Warden with a snarl on his lips, his eyes widening in horror as Alistair grinned. He stepped back from Loghain's charge and rammed into the regent as he passed by like a crazed bull, throwing the man to the ground and stepping on his breastplate, holding Caladbolg to Loghain's throat.

"Do you yield?" Alistair demanded, using his 'king' voice, and Loghain let out a sigh.

"So, there is some of Maric in you after all. Good," the regent breathed, and Alistair gritted his teeth, narrowing his eyes.

"Forget Maric. This is for Duncan," Alistair said, raising his blade to execute Loghain.

The door to the Landsmeet Chamber suddenly burst open, and Alistair paused, turning his head. We watched as Riordan ran into the room, holding his hand up to wait.

"Wait! There is another option!" the senior Warden cried, running to our sides. I plucked Loghain's blade off the floor as Alistair took his foot off the man's chest, and the regent slowly sat up, staggering to his feet. Arl Eamon motioned for a few of his guards to stand on either side of the man, should he try to escape. "The Teyrn is a warrior and general of renown. Let him be of use. Let him go through the Joining," Riordan suggested, and I jumped, staring at him incredulously.

Alistair wasn't surprised, though; he was furious. "You want to make him a Warden?" he cried, glaring at Riordan. "Why?"

"There are three of us in all of Ferelden," Riordan answered. "And there are…compelling reasons to have as many Wardens on hand as possible to deal with the archdemon," he added. "The Joining itself is often fatal, is it not? If he survives, you gain a general. If not, you have your revenge. Doesn't that satisfy you?" the man argued.

"Absolutely not!" Alistair exclaimed. "Riordan, this man abandoned our brothers and then blamed us for the deed! He hunted us down like animals. He tortured you! How can we simply forget that?" he nearly shouted, and I nodded, crossing my arms.

"He may be a great warrior and strategist, but he left us to be slaughtered at Ostagar. Loghain needs to pay for his crimes," I chimed in. "And the Joining is an honor; you insult us, Riordan, offering this traitor a place among us," I added, my eyes cold as I glared at the Grey Warden.

"You can't do this!" Anora shrieked, running towards us through the crowd. "My father may have been wrong, but he is still a hero to the people."

"Anora, hush. It's over," Loghain sighed, bowing his head with acceptance.

"Stop treating me like a child. This is serious," the woman huffed, and Loghain looked at her, smiling sadly at his daughter.

"Daughters never grow up, Anora. They remain six years old with pigtails and skinned knees forever," he murmured, and Anora covered her mouth, tears welling up in her eyes.

"Father…" she whispered, blinking quickly as the tears ran down her cheeks.

Loghain turned to face me, his eyes drained of anger – they held only calm acceptance of his fate. "Just make it quick, Warden. I can face the Maker, knowing that Ferelden is in your hands."

I looked up at Alistair, placing a hand lightly on his arm. "Alistair, you should be the one to do this," I murmured, and he nodded, stepping forth and sheathing Caladbolg, taking a sword from one of the guards – he wouldn't do Loghain the honor of killing him with Maric's blade.

"I will. I owe that to Duncan," he whispered, raising the blade as Loghain closed his eyes, lowering his head. With a single sweep of a blade, the Teyrn of Gwaren was dead. The room was silent, and a few of the nobles took of their cloaks, handing them to the guards to spread over Loghain's body as Eamon came down from his balcony, calling the Landsmeet to attention once more.

"So it is decided. Alistair will take his father's throne," Eamon said, and Alistair stood by his side, bowing his head slightly.

"I accept this decision. I will be king, if the Landsmeet will have me," he sighed.

"Anora, the Landsmeet has decided against you. You must now swear fealty to our king, and relinquish all claim to the throne for yourself and your heirs," Eamon continued, and Anora scoffed, tossing her head in disdain.

"If you think I will swear that oath, Eamon, you know nothing of me," the woman replied.

"You'll have to do something about her, Alistair. She's never going to concede," I whispered, and he nodded slightly.

"I suppose that's true," he remarked, placing a hand on his chin in thought.

"We cannot leave Ferelden in a state of civil war. We must have unity," Eamon said. "If she will not swear fealty to you, Alistair, and renounce her claim to the throne, she is a threat to us all," he added, and Alistair motioned for a few guards to join us.

"Put her in the tower for now. If I fall against the Blight, then she can have her throne," Alistair ordered. "If not…then we'll see."

"You would give me a chance for the throne after all this?" Anora asked, perplexed, and Alistair narrowed his eyes at her.

"I said if I fall, Anora," he reminded her. "If I fall, the throne falls to you. I won't kill you while there's a chance that can happen. Somebody has to treat this Blight seriously."

"That is uncharacteristically wise of you," the woman remarked scathingly, and I gritted my teeth. Maker I want to punch that smug face of hers

"Yes, well, don't let it get around. I have a reputation," Alistair replied.

"Very well, then. Guards, take her away," Eamon said, and the guards surrounded Anora, marching away. "Your Highness, would you address the Landsmeet?" he added, facing Alistair, who jumped at the new title.

"Oh…that would be me," Alistair murmured, stepping forward and clearing his throat. "Right, um…I never knew him, but from all I've heard of my father, what defined him was his commitment to protecting this land," he began. "I…might have a long way to go before I am worthy of your respect, but I will defend Ferelden with everything I have – this, I swear," Alistair said, bowing his head. The assembled nobles cheered and applauded the new king, and I smiled slightly.

Alistair glanced at me, and I nodded towards Aedan, who had joined us on the floor. "But before we march, there are matters that must be attended to," he added, holding up a hand for quiet. "Aedan Cousland," Alistair addressed the man, and Aedan stepped forward, "I restore to you the Teyrnir of Highever, which was wrongly taken from your family by Rendon Howe. I cannot undo his crimes, but know that you have my sympathies. I hereby name you Teyrn of Highever."

Aedan knelt before the king and drew his blade, holding the rapier out to him. "I thank you, my king, and for this, I swear fealty to you," the man said. Alistair took the blade and gently tapped each of Aedan's shoulders with the flat, presenting it back to him.

"Then rise, Teyrn Cousland, and know that you will always be welcome in Denerim," Alistair said regally, and a cheer sounded around the hall. "I also hereby strip the Howes of their titles and lands – the Arling of Amaranthine will now be the headquarters of the Grey Wardens, under the custody of the Teyrn of Highever until further notice," he added, and Aedan nodded.

"The archers of the Waking Sea promise their aid when you take back your lands, Teyrn Cousland," Bann Alfstanna called, and Aedan smiled up at her, dipping his head in thanks.

"I also abolish any claims that Loghain and his allies have made against the Grey Wardens, and raise the edict banning them from Fereldan," Alistair continued, turning towards Riordan. "Our brothers and sisters in Orlais might not reach us in time to face the archdemon, but we will need their aid in the battles to come," he said, and Riordan bowed.

"I will send a message immediately, Your Highness," the Grey Warden replied.

Alistair then turned to me, a gentle smile on his face. "And you, Adeline Tabris," he said, and I bit back a smile, trying to stay serious. "For your efforts against the Blight, I name you Warden-Commander of Ferelden – of that title, you are more than worthy." I bowed my head, drawing my blade and presenting it. "Adeline, what are you doing?" Alistair whispered hurriedly, his eyes widening with surprise, and I simply smiled up at him.

"Alistair Theirin," I began, "I pledge my loyalty to you – you have proven yourself worthy as a Grey Warden, and as a friend. I would stand by your side, should you brave the Black City itself," I vowed, bowing my head.

Alistair gingerly took the saber from my hands, tapping my shoulders lightly before presenting the blade back to me. "Then rise, Warden-Commander Tabris, and know that what you have done for Ferelden will never be forgotten," he said, taking my hand and helping me to my feet. He turned to face the Landsmeet once more. "Until the day of my coronation, I name Arl Eamon as regent," he added, glancing towards Eamon, who bowed his head. "Prepare your men to march," Alistair said, turning back to the other nobles. "It's going to take all of Ferelden's strength to survive this Blight. But we will face it, and we will defeat it."

A deafening roar made the walls and floor of the chamber tremble, and I grinned up at Alistair, taking his hand as we stood side by side. "One step closer," I breathed, my body quivering with excitement, amplified by the cheers of the nobility.

Our group was moved out of Arl Eamon's estate, and we spent the night in the Royal palace – we would return to Redcliffe the next day. Arl Eamon would stay in Denerim as regent, and fortify the city, should the Darkspawn change their course. Aedan and Selina headed to Highever immediately with Bann Alfstanna and her guards, sending a missive to her Bannorn to march on Highever and take the castle from any of Howe's remaining men.

Soldiers that were still loyal to Loghain were rounded up, and offered a choice – swear fealty to the king of Ferelden, or be exiled. Ser Cauthrien and her knights conceded – much to my surprise – and vowed to protect Denerim to their last breath; they would remain behind with Eamon, the royal guard, and the forces of Dragon's Peak.

The city was alive with the sound of preparation – Denerim was not to be left undefended while the army marched towards Redcliffe, where we predicted the darkspawn would strike first. The streets echoed with the sounds of hammers as smiths worked at a doubled pace, and the city walls were shored up and inspected for any weaknesses.

oooo

I scaled the palace wall, opening the window quietly and sliding onto the sill, sitting with my back pressed lightly against the frame, watching Alistair in silence. He didn't seem to notice me at all; he was sitting at the small desk by the opposite wall, eyes closed as he ran a hand through his hair. He seemed tense – deep in thought – and I smiled gently at him as he let out a long, troubled sigh.

"You know, Your Majesty," I began, and he jumped, turning slightly and spotting me, "you really should lock your windows tighter. All sorts of nasty things can get in; assassins, thieves…your paramour," I teased, sliding my legs into the room but remaining on the sill.

"How did you…?" Alistair trailed off, standing and walking over to me.

"You're really going to ask the rogue how she got onto the third story of the Royal Palace?" I teased, and he rolled his eyes.

"But what about the guards? Isn't it dangerous to be doing suspicious things like climbing up the palace walls?" he asked.

"There are guards walking up the palace walls?" I asked with a smirk.

"Oh you know what I mean," he snorted. "And why didn't you just come in through the door?" Alistair asked, and I shrugged, sliding off the windowsill and walking over to him, tapping him lightly on the chest with my index finger.

"You, ser, have a reputation to uphold now. You can't be seen with a random Elf woman walking into your room. We need to be more…discreet with our rendezvous," I replied, and Alistair let out a sigh, seeming troubled. "…what's wrong, love?" I asked gently as he turned, walking back to the desk and leaning heavily against it, closing his eyes.

"We…need to talk," he murmured, running a hand over his forehead. "I'm not going to question why you made me king. I even think I'm starting to come around on the idea, anyhow…it could be an interesting future for me," he admitted, and I let out a small sigh. Oh good, I thought he was still anxious about that, I thought, listening as he continued. "But…being king… That raises some questions about us. About you and me," he said, turning to face me.

"What…sorts of questions?" I asked, not really liking where this was going.

"First, there's the fact that both you and I are Grey Wardens. It's not just a question of obligation, but of blood. You know that Grey Wardens don't usually live to become old, right?" he asked, and I raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, I'm aware of that," I replied, and he crossed his arms,

"As king, I'll be required to have a child. Even more so because my death is assured. That's assuming that someone with the taint can or even should have a child," he continued.

"I…still don't see how that affects us," I said, although truly…I supposed that I did. I was just stalling.

"I will need to find a wife, one who can bear a child. Who will live to raise it. I don't relish it, but…I will have a duty as the king," he said, pain in his voice as he glanced back at me. "I love you. More than I ever thought possible, but…I have to face what this means. I can't run away from it anymore," he sighed, looking at me sadly.

I was quiet for a long time, looking up at him and placing a hand on his cheek, running my thumb over his stubbled jaw. "Alistair, being a king isn't a punishment," I whispered. "No one can force you to do anything you don't want," I murmured, my voice gentle, and Alistair's eyes widened for a moment. He seemed to be thinking about it, though, as he walked to the window, placing his hands on the sill.

"You mean…marry who I want? Carry on with whomever I want?" he murmured. "You don't think that would be very unfair? To my wife as well as you?" he asked, glancing back at me as I joined him by the window.

"You are your own man, Alistair. Maybe you should do what pleases you, for once," I argued, and Alistair looked at me for a long time, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"You know what? You're right. Damn them all, anyhow. If they want to make me king, then…then I'll be king. And I'll do exactly what I want to do," he said firmly, and I smiled. "I feel like such an idiot for bringing this up, now. Can you ever forgive me?" Alistair asked, his eyes apologetic, and I nodded, cupping his face in my hands and kissing him.

"Of course I can. Always," I murmured, and he sighed, pressing his forehead against mine as he held me.

"Good. Then let's forget about it," he smiled. "Arl Eamon has sent a runner to Redcliffe, asking Bann Teagan to prepare the soldiers. He received word the other day – one of our Dalish runners; the Elf said that our armies are gathering there, and are almost ready to march. As soon as we're ready, we should head to Redcliffe ourselves. The Blight awaits, right?" he added, and I nodded.

"Well…we're not heading out until tomorrow," I began, running a finger over Alistair's collarbone, "and you've been rather stressed the past few days." His eyes flashed at my words, a slow smile spreading over his lips as he wrapped his arms more tightly around me.

"Oh? And what might you suggest we do to remedy that, my dear?" he asked teasingly, sweeping me off my feet as I laughed and carrying me to the bed.

"Hmm…well, I suppose we could test how soft this mattress is," I suggested as he set me down. I sank into the soft sheets, imagining that I was lying on a cloud. "…say," I added, glancing around the room, "why aren't you staying in Cailan's room?" At this Alistair laughed, shaking his head, and I raised an eyebrow. "Is his taste in décor that bad?" I asked.

"Oh, you don't even want to know. It looks like someone chewed up an Orlesian ballroom and spit it back up all over the place. Thank the Maker the steward asked if I wanted it redone," Alistair described, and I grinned, taking off my boots, gloves and armored overcoat as he did the same.

"Wow. I can't imagine Anora ever sleeping in there. Or seeing it, even," I remarked, and Alistair rolled his eyes.

"And everyone wonders why there aren't any royal children running about," he replied sarcastically, unbuckling his breastplate and setting it down nearby, taking off his golden hauberk and folding it neatly before setting it down as well. "Although from the gossip I've heard, Cailan did entertain…guests of a certain persuasion, from time to time," he added, and I laughed.

"Oh dear. I'm almost afraid to think," I shook my head, sliding off my pants and shirt as he did the same. He chuckled softly, joining me on the bed and wrapping his arms around me, nuzzling my cheek affectionately as he plucked at my corset strings. I rolled over as he slipped the garment from me, blowing out the candle and turning back to face him.

"So…" Alistair began softly, his voice gentle as he looked at me, "can we…pretend something? For a moment?" he asked, and I raised an eyebrow. "Pretend that…you and me, we're…I don't know, just, two people in love," he said, placing a hand on my cheek.

"Hmm…I'll try my best," I teased, and he kissed me.

"Cute," he smiled. "So. Adeline Tabris, will you marry me?" he asked, and my heart leapt into my throat. I stared at him with wide eyes, and he sat up slowly, worried by my shocked silence. "I know it might…be a long time before it's possible… If it's even possible…but… I want you to be my wife, nobility be damned."

I sat up next to him, placing a hand on my cheek and pinching it. He looked at me oddly as I cringed. "Just…making sure I'm not dreaming," I said, and he smirked. He gently brushed the back of his hand over my cheek, tucking some loose hair over my ear.

"You dream about me?" he asked teasingly, wrapping his arms around me, and I chuckled.

"Well, I need someone to chase away the archdemon while I sleep," I replied, kissing him. "And…yes. To both questions," I added, and a broad grin spread across his face. He buried his nose in my hair as he embraced me, and I shut my eyes, hugging him back.

"It might take some time to convince the other nobles," Alistair began, "but as king, technically I could raise your status to nobility." I chuckled at his reasoning, planting a kiss on his cheek.

"Whatever you wish, ma vhenan," I replied, and he smiled.

"Now…where were we?" Alistair asked, a huskiness entering his voice as he ran a hand through my hair. I leaned forward and nuzzled his cheek, nibbling at his ear teasingly.

"I believe that's your call, love," I sighed.

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