I suppose I should begin with an apology, an explanation, and a warning.

An apology: for just dropping this like a hot rock and not coming back to it. I'm sorry. I always said I wouldn't abandon it and then I did. That was wrong of me. I apologize to all the people who got invested in the story and then I failed to uphold my end.

An explanation: because you should know why I abandoned this. The further I got into the story, and the more I branched out into other works ans fandoms, the got more experience and expanded my skills as a writer, the more I realized the critical flaws in this work, and got incredibly frustrated with it. I was then caught because the thought of going back over 130k words to fix things was horrifying to me, and I didn't know how to begin fixing it. It was easier to just walk away than to try and tackle the problem.

A warning: because even though I'm posting this chapter, I can't promise regular updates. I'm trying to finish off works for some other fandoms and those are my priority. If I can find the time and drive to post more here, I will, but I can guarantee that it won't be regular. I do know how this story ends, it's just a matter of writing it. But in order to do that, I need to reread this whole thing and try and get back into the proper mindset. That's going to take a while.

And the reason you have this chapter at all is because all the guilt from the comments finally got to me. My friends and betas can tell you that abandoning this was the biggest regret I've had in writing fanfiction, and I urge others not to be me and do this to their works. I feel like I need to give you something, so here is...something. It may not mesh exactly perfectly, but hopefully it's good enough.

Enjoy.


Chapter 45

There was never enough time, Fiona decided. Osric's departure, with nearly a third of Weisshaupt's almost six-hundred Wardens, had made things both easier and harder for her. Most of the Wardens he had taken were loyal to him, meaning she had more freedom to act in Weisshaupt without a constant watch. It also meant she had to decide how much she was to act.

She looked down at the reports in front of her. When Osric left, a few of her own Wardens, deeply planted, had accompanied him. They had managed to get a handful of reports back to her, but she knew every time they risked sending one was one more chance they took in being discovered.

The reports….

She didn't need to look through them again. She had practically memorized them at this point. Her dilemma was what she going to do about it. She couldn't stop what Osric was doing now, no matter how much she wanted to. He was too far away and it wasn't as if she had any control over him in any case. Her opposition to some of his plans had power in Weisshaupt because they were both where they had the bulk of their support.

With the freedom she currently had, she could take the opportunity and move against him in a more aggressive manner. However, Wardens outside Weisshaupt were more inclined to stay neutral in the power plays between the factions, though those that didn't might be more likely to lean towards her side. Would there be enough support if she moved against him? Perhaps now might be the time to send out feelers to Wardens she knew to be sympathetic.

But if Osric prevailed in Ferelden, it was certain he would learn of her actions. And he wouldn't hesitate to take reprisals.

Her thinking was interrupted by the sound of boots striking against the stone floor of the corridor as someone ran down it. Scant seconds later, the door to her room was flung open and a dark-haired Warden staggered inside. It was Hazel, one of the younger Wardens she had brought into her fold. The girl had been impressed with Alistair during his visit, and Fiona had slowly cultivated her and her support carefully in the years since.

The young woman was bent over now, hands on her knees, gasping for breath. Fiona rose and came over. "What is it? What's happened, child?"

"Marlon!" Hazel managed to get out, raising her head to look at Fiona with wide green eyes. "He's returned! He went…to get…Alvarro! You said to…watch for any…of Osric's men. I think they're heading for the queen's room."

Fiona felt her blood turn to ice in her veins. "Come!" she snapped and hurried out of the room with Hazel on her heels. She began casting as they ran, hasting herself and the rogue behind her. Please let me be in time, she thought. Let me not be too late.


Fiona heard a cry as she approached Lya's open door, and put in an extra burst of speed, ready to cast as soon as she entered the room. What she found when she reached the door shocked her.

Marlon lay on the floor in a spreading pool of blood that flowed from his opened throat. Lya was behind him, crouched in a defensive posture, eyes wide in surprise. Alvarro stood over Marlon, stained dagger in hand, looking down critically at the body.

Alvarro was a Warden Fiona had approached circumspectly. He was smart, skilled, and competent. Though she had tried, he'd never been as receptive as she had hoped. When Osric leaned on him, and Alvarro began to show signs showing of throwing in with him, she had backed off. She couldn't afford to reveal too much to someone who would end up being in Osric's pocket.

Now he looked up as she entered and she wasn't sure what to make of either the scene before her or his expression.

"I've slain a brother to save the life of a sister," he said quietly. He looked over towards Lya, who was still looking at all of them warily, and then back to her. "And if you don't move her somewhere safe, it will be in vain."

Removing a small rag tucked inside his gauntlet, he wiped his dagger and sheathed it. He gave Marlon's corpse, Lya, and Fiona a long, searching look before easing past Fiona and Hazel and disappearing down the hall.

Fiona studied the scene before her for a moment before turning to Hazel. "Get Isaia and Einar for me, and have them meet me in my rooms. Find Wiebe and have him clean this up." She gestured to the body and the pool of blood. "When that's done, come to my office. Wait for me if I'm not there."

"Yes, ser." With a quick salute, Hazel dashed out of the door, and Fiona turned back to the tense and suspicious queen of Ferelden.

"Please come with me, Your Majesty. It's no longer safe for you here."

"It's never been safe for me here. And I have no reason to trust you." Though she spoke quietly, there was a hard edge to Lya's words. Fiona ducked her head in silent agreement with Lya's statement.

"Indeed, you do not. I can offer you no assurances except for my word that I mean you no harm and wish to keep you safe from further attacks. I cannot do that very well if you remain here. If I am to protect you, I need to move you. Please, I'm asking you, come with me."

For several heartbeats, Fiona was afraid Lya would remain where she was until Fiona moved her by force. But the queen straightened, drawing herself up and moving cautiously towards Fiona. She kept her distance, but followed Fiona towards the door. After casting a cautious glance up and down the hallway, Fiona gestured for Lya to go out, and closed the door silently as she followed.

"This way," she murmured, leading Lya down the hall. The halls were mercifully empty and Fiona breathed a sigh of relief as she arrived at her own rooms and opened the door, ushering Lya inside. "I'm going to lock the door," she said after they had entered, "to keep others out, not you in. I hope you understand that. Guards will be placed outside your door for further protection. I will return as quickly as I can. Please, make yourself comfortable until then." Indicating the couch and chairs in the room, she bowed her head at Lya and ducked out the door.


"Tell me it was worth it, Fiona."

The mage looked up to see Alvarro lean against the doorjamb of the open door of her office. Standing guard behind her shoulder, Hazel stiffened, shifted, and made to move towards Alvarro. Fiona stilled her with a brief gesture.

"I can't," she replied quietly.

Alvarro frowned slightly. "Do you intend to return her to Ferelden?"

Fiona struggled to find an answer. She wanted, desperately, to send Lya home, to send her back to Alistair and her family. She wanted to do at least one good thing for Alistair, but the cost…. Maker help her, she didn't know if it would be worth the cost.

"I want to," she said finally.

"If you send her, it will reveal you to be a traitor."

"Why do you care, Alvarro?"

He looked past her, out the window that showed only desolate landscape. "I didn't join the Wardens to become a murderer," he said slowly. "This…sits ill with me. What Osric is doing in Ferelden…." His jaw tightened. "I don't like it.

"I don't necessarily agree with you and your aims, Fiona, but I agree even less with Osric and his goals now. I won't pretend to care about Ferelden or its rulers or Osric's plan for it. What I care about is that the woman, the Grey Warden, who ended the Fifth Blight sits prisoner in a Warden stronghold awaiting execution by the First Warden. That's not right!"

His last words were punctuated with a vehemence that made Fiona straighten. Alvarro very rarely let strong emotion move him, so this must truly bother him for it to garner a reaction like this.

Alvarro continued to scrutinize her. "If you send her to Ferelden alone, and Osric catches her, he will kill her"

"I'm well aware of that," Fiona responded, trying to tamp down her uncertainty. "But she cannot remain here."

Alvarro nodded and the silence stretched out in the room. Behind her, Hazel shifted uncomfortably, no doubt unsure what to make of the situation.

"But you're going to do it anyway," he finally said.

"I think I have to."

"It will be very dangerous." Fiona didn't bother to respond. They all knew that. "You should perhaps take others with you."

"Are you volunteering, Alvarro?" she asked, unsure of exactly what his intent was.

"I am."

"Why? Why would you do that?"

A faint smile tugged at the corner of Alvarro's mouth. "I like her. She has spirit. Tell me, is she worth it?"

Fiona thought back to Lya's hard, green eyes. "Probably not," she admitted. "What do you think?"

"I think…I think while she alone may not be worth turning against the Wardens for, what she stands for might be. And I fear that Osric's dedication has blinded him to the damage he might cause. If we stand by and do nothing, we're just as culpable as he. And if I am to turn against my brothers and sisters, I would have it be for a purpose I can believe in. I say we take her back and help them stop him."

She didn't know what to make of him right now. Fiona resisted the urge to worry at her lower lip while she thought. If Alvarro were lying, she could afford no displays of weakness. But she saw little reason for him to lie now, to devise such an odd twist of events when he could have easily carried out his original orders.

Trusting him would be a gamble, yes, but it might be worth it. Perhaps a test was in order. She trusted her skills enough to believe that if Alvarro was out to betray them, she could defend herself. And if not, she could at least take him down with her.

"Fine. Then you and I will accompany her back to Ferelden."

Alvarro laughed, a free and easy sound, completely devoid of any falseness. "No, no, you misunderstand me." He smiled. "I mean we should all go with her."

Shocked, Fiona stared at Alvarro with wide eyes. He was suggesting…. Holy Andraste, he was suggesting all of Fiona's Warden oppose Osric—a rebellion within the Wardens. That alone could destroy the Wardens as surely as anything Osric was doing now. A war between Wardens would have staggering losses.

"Do you have any idea of what the impact of your suggestion would be, were we to follow it?"

His dark eyes were knowing. "Yes."

"I…I don't know if I can do that." The thought of countless Wardens dying because she didn't like one man's schemes was almost more guilt than she could bear. She had dedicated herself to the Wardens for nearly three decades. After returning from Ferelden, they had been all she had had left. If things went poorly, if the hidden infighting between the factions turned into open warfare, the Grey Wardens might never recover. If another blight arose when they were weak or broken, how many would suffer then? The Anderfels were testament enough of the permanent damage wrought by the darkspawn. All of Thedas could perish because of her selfish wish to stop a man whose goals were not entirely misplaced.

Ferelden would suffer. Maric's country would suffer because of Osric's hubris. Maric's son, her son—Maker help her—their son would suffer, had already suffered. And even faced with the potential, disastrous consequences, she still wanted to stop it. But doing so would mean abandoning her first oath. How did one weigh the lives of two families? She didn't know if she—

"I'm in." Hazel's clear voice behind her startled her and Fiona turned to look at her.

"We'll go with you, Fiona. All of us. We're tired of sitting around, doing nothing." Hazel looked at her earnestly. "She's a Warden. Alistair's a Warden. Will we leave them to face this alone? Again?"

With that one little word, Hazel quietly disarmed every objection Fiona was about to raise. May all the Wardens who came before her forgive her for what she was going to do.

"Begin spreading the word, quietly, for the others to prepare. We leave for Ferelden in two days."