A/N: I started this story for this year's NaNoWriMo, using my canon save from the game as my outline. The M rating is mostly for language. As always, Bioware owns everything; I'm merely playing in their sandbox. I've been fighting with myself over how to handle certain end-game events for as long as I've been writing this, and today I finally begin one of those plot lines. Partial credit goes to IntegraHawke for an important part of this chapter (and one that left me crying most of the morning) for linking me to the short comic Dragon Age - The Revelation, which itself was based on a deleted cut scene in the game.


All things in this world are finite.
What one man gains, another has lost.
Those who steal from their brothers and sisters
Do harm to their livelihood and to their peace of mind.
Our Maker sees this with a heavy heart.
-Transfigurations 1:5

"It's not possible. Not even Loghain could be this desperate." Elissa stared in shock at the documents Leliana produced later that day. Loghain didn't have the authority to negotiate trade agreements with any other nation as it was, in spite of his declaration that he was ruling in Anora's place as regent. But to negotiate a slave trade with Tevinter? This wasn't desperation, it was sheer stupidity.

Zevran clucked his tongue in disapproval. "I said that a living dragon was not possible, and yet we encountered one in the mountain temple," the elf pointed out from where he lounged in one of the oversized chairs in her parlor. "And as for Loghain's desperation, you have claimed every ally available to you—politically and militarily—while his own alliances are shattered at your every move. He has little choice but to seek help from those willing to offer it, no matter the price."

"You're awfully nonchalant about this, Zev," she replied as she set the papers back on the table. "Didn't you say once that you were bought off the slave market by the Crows?"

"That I was, but there are ways of rising above one's initial station when with the Crows. You must remember that I was a child when I was purchased. I can assure you, my lady, I am not a child any longer," he leered, and Elissa rolled her eyes.

"Leliana, I don't suppose there was any way the two of you could have kept the slaver himself for testimony, in addition to these papers? If I present these to the Landsmeet, Loghain is just going to claim that they're forgeries, and that the two of you are helping me to slander him."

"Unfortunately not," the bard apologized. "For all Zevran's apparent coolness regarding the matter now, his reaction was much different when we were actually in the Alienage. Shianni may be willing to help us, but the other elves are still understandably nervous about humans at the moment."

"So long as she does not know we are restoring Vaughn to his father's position," Zevran added hastily. "She… is less than fond of the young arl."

"I don't think anyone is 'fond' of Vaughn, Zev," Elissa sighed, pinching her nose. "But he serves a purpose and we can't risk losing his support. That weasel is the missing vote that keeps us one step ahead of a stalemate, just in case something happens and all three of the undeclared banns side with Loghain."

"Arl Eamon said the same when we discussed this with him when we first arrived, before we had to run off after your brother," Leliana confirmed. "Speaking of Fergus, I've seen neither him nor Alistair since this morning."

The girl groaned as she let her head drop to the table. "Don't get me started on those two. If it were anything to do with the Landsmeet, or with retaking Highever—you know, the issues they should be discussing—then I don't think they'd keep me from joining them."

"I'm sure it's something to do with your wedding, is all. A bride price may be a bit impractical under the circumstances, but a dower is certainly understandable. The bride herself is typically not included in such negotiations."

"They could also be plotting something stupid, and knowing the two of them it will be some grand, genius plan. Neither of them will be able to see beyond the grandness of their plot to recognize its idiocy, and by the end of it all I will need a bloody dower to live off once the Blight's over."

There was a knock at her door; Elissa called absently for whomever it was to come in and she continued as Morrigan silently entered with Moira at her heel. "Or worse, whatever Alistair and my brother have locked themselves away over involves both the wedding and some stupid plot. Between the two of you, can you please just keep them out of trouble? We don't have time right now for either of them to go running off on adventures."

Leliana nodded while Zevran grinned; clearly the elf already had a plan of his own to keep tabs on Alistair and Fergus. When the witch cleared her throat impatiently, the two rogues bade Elissa farewell and left her rooms.

"Is everything alright?" the Warden asked carefully once the door was securely shut, while Morrigan paced nervously near the unlit hearth. Twice she opened her mouth as if to begin to speak, and twice she shut it again, swearing quietly instead. Finally the witch took Elissa's hands and led her to the settee.

"Elissa, your senior Warden, the one who sent you into the Wilds the day we met… How much did he tell you about the death of an archdemon? And how much about it does Alistair know?"

"I…" Elissa faltered. "Duncan told me before we reached Ostagar that no Warden to kill an archdemon has ever survived, though the way he said it at the time, I don't know if even he knew how or why."

"And Alistair?"

Frowning, she thought back to all the times she could and should have brought up Duncan's warning and chose not to. "I'm almost positive he doesn't know," she whispered finally.

"I thought as much," Morrigan replied absently. "I don't understand much of it myself, but there is a mention in mother's grimoire of a blending of souls between the dragon and a Warden at the moment of an archdemon's physical death. Something in that blending destroys both the beast and the warrior permanently."

"Why are you telling me this now, Morrigan? Duncan made it clear that whatever the reason, there's no way around the result." Elissa realized she was crying, and she wiped angrily at the tears that had fallen. "Unless the Orlesian Wardens miraculously arrive before the battle, it's guaranteed that either Alistair or I will be killed. Knowing the how and why of it isn't going to make that any less true."

She couldn't be certain, but it almost looked like Morrigan's eyes held a glimmer of hope. "Because I do not believe it is a guaranteed result. There is a ritual that Flemeth no doubt planned to use herself, after taking my body as her host that would almost certainly prevent any Grey Warden present from being killed by the blending."

Elissa stared at the witch in shock. "What sort of ritual?"

"'Tis… old magic," the witch replied vaguely. "And while I am certain I can perform the ritual on myself to ensure your survival and that of your beloved, I do not know yet if that magic can be transferred to another."

"What must I do?"

Morrigan studied her carefully, considering the path before her. "For now, next to nothing," she finally stated. "But you must stop drinking those teas Wynne has been giving you. The senior enchanter does not realize how rare it is for a Warden to conceive a child under the best of circumstances, and considering your future position, you do not need any more obstacles to that end than necessary."

"And later?"

Elissa was shocked when a tear escaped and made its way down Morrigan's cheek. "I may make a request of you at some point in the future, one that you will not wish to grant me. I'm begging you, Elissa; if it reaches that point, do not deny me this in spite of your own emotions. I swear to you, one way or another I will not let you fall to that beast."

They remained in Redcliffe only two more nights while Eamon sent out the last of his summons to various nobles whose presence would be required at the Landsmeet. Clearly he and Teagan had long since prepared to leave for the capital the moment all of Elissa's companions had returned, and only these few messages had to be sent before they could begin the trip itself.

It was a chilly morning, and in spite of the coming events Elissa was glad to be heading north again. Back home, and likely in Denerim as well, the daffodils would have come and gone by now, replaced by peonies, bluebells, and the first of the season's roses. But here in Redcliffe there was still a thick coat of frost on the ground most mornings, and the castle's gardens were still quite barren.

"I was wondering where you'd gotten off to," she heard from near the castle's main doors, and smiling she saw Alistair come down the stairs to join her in the courtyard. "Couldn't sleep?"

"Not really," she admitted as he wrapped his arms around her and she leaned into him for warmth. "Even without the Landsmeet looming over us, I'm not sure I like the idea of this particular trip. We'll have half of Eamon's household with us, so it's not exactly going to be as easy as it usually is to avoid any darkspawn bands that might be lining the highway."

"Well, we can't split into multiple groups either. If we did either you and I would go ahead, leaving Eamon, Teagan, and your brother unprotected from any soldiers Loghain might have waiting, or you and I have to split up. I don't know that I really believe the archdemon would be capable of sending an assassin after you, but I'm not going to take the chance that you're right and leave you alone, either."

She'd had numerous dreams since the first where she had seen through the dragon's eyes and spoken with his voice, and each was the same as the last. Gradually Elissa watched as a single hurlock rose above the others; it would be some time still before its claim over the horde was complete, but it was obvious that this one would become Urthemiel's chief general.

"Come on," Alistair told her, leading her back toward a shortcut to the kitchens that opened up into the courtyard. "We'll get some breakfast, and by the time that's done and the rest of our things are packed everyone else should be ready to go as well."

Elissa nodded absently as she followed, remembering the most recent of her nightmares. She was certain that there was still time before the hurlock she'd seen could be sent after her, but something in the tone of Urthemiel's voice chilled her far more than the threat of a darkspawn assassin. Initially, the dragon seemed to realize that it would be safer for him to send another after her, in spite of his original declaration that he would end her himself. At some point between her previous attempt on his life and now, his anger had flared to the point where her attack was much more personal than it had previously been.

There might be random skirmishes on the road, darkspawn or otherwise, but Elissa realized that there would no longer be assassins sent after her as the archdemon had originally planned. Urthemiel dreamed instead of destroying her personally, of her flesh and bone and blood between his teeth.