CHAPTER 51

They made their way out to the small common area by the bathing room. Lyra sat at the table in her armor, her eyes shut, listening to her heartbeat pounding in her ears. She knew she must be fantastically hung over, since the food on the table was making her nauseous.

Alistair sat beside her, and whispered in a pained voice, "Is it just me, or is the silence loud? It's really loud."

"Really, really loud," Lyra whispered back. "And bright. Why did you let me do that?"

"What? You mean when we started dicing, and Oghren won your smallclothes?"

"He didn't," Lyra said disbelievingly.

"He sure as hell did. How you managed to shimmy out of your breastband without removing your armor...well, it was impressive, let me tell you. Half of Orzammar is in love with you," he remarked.

"He couldn't have. I have my breastband on, you twit," Lyra said irritably. "Stop teasing me."

"Lyra, he did. I know it seems like the kind of thing I'd make up...but ask Zevran if you don't believe me. I won it back for you," Alistair said, pressing his hand against his eyes.

"Oh." She digested this for a moment, wondering how many people had seen her lose her breastband in a game of dice. She'd never even played dice before. Then she remembered her original question.

"No, I mean, why did you let me drink so much?"

Alistair laughed, and then grimaced. "I didn't let you do anything. You insisted. I tried to stop you."

"Not very hard," Lyra said.

"No, you're right, I didn't. It was amusing to watch you get drunk for the first time ever. And you're an adorable drunk," Alistair said with a slight smile. "You get all happy."

"Oh, hooray, I'm an adorable, happy drunk...ugh, I'm going to throw up," she said, and was doing her best to control her roiling stomach when Wynne bustled into the room holding two cups.

"Drink this," she said brusquely. Lyra and Alistair took the cups, and downed them. Almost immediately, Lyra's nausea went away, and some of the fog in her head cleared. She still had an epic headache, though.

"Thanks, Wynne," she said quietly, and the Mage sighed, and held her hands over Lyra's head.

"Curing hangovers...this isn't what I'm supposed to be doing with my magic," she muttered, and Lyra felt cool, soothing waves spread through her body. She sighed in relief as she began to feel normal again.

"Wynne, I could kiss you," she said.

"Dwarven ale is not something to mess around with," Wynne said sternly, and turned to Alistair and began to minister to him. "Their constitutions are vastly different than ours. The next time you feel the need to get drunk in Orzammar, stick with the stuff they keep for humans."

"Yes ma'am," Lyra said meekly, and reached hungrily for a plate and began filling it with food. Alistair joined her in a moment, and Wynne sat and watched them devour their breakfasts.

"Wynne, you're my favorite-est Mage ever," Alistair said, his mouth full.

"Don't talk with your mouth full, young man," Wynne snapped, and he chewed obediently.

"Now, what were you saying outside my door? Something about the Deep Roads?" Lyra said, and dove into a second slice of fried nug.

"Dagna, the girl I met at the Shaperate, the one who wanted to go to the Circle Tower. I spoke with her yesterday, and told her that we couldn't take her with us right away, but that once the Blight was ended we would make sure she went to the Tower, just as you said. Well, her father Janar came knocking this morning. Dagna's gone, and she left this note," Wynne said, and she handed the note to Lyra. Lyra set her fork down, and smoothed it out to read.

Dear Mother and Father,

I'm leaving Orzammar. I've found an old map in the Shaperate that shows a road that goes all the way to the Circle Tower. It's my dream to study magic, and I won't give it up! I know I'll lose my caste, and I don't care. I'd rather be casteless and live with the Mages than stay here and be trapped. I'll send word to you when I arrive. I love you. ~Dagna

Lyra handed the note back to Wynne. "She can't go into the Deep Roads by herself...the only people who do that are-"

"Grey Wardens," Wynne finished. "That's why Janar came here. He appealed to the Warrior Caste, and they told him they can't spare the manpower to go after one girl who went into the Deep Roads on her own. He asked to meet with you and Alistair to see if you would find her."

"Of course we will, Wynne," Lyra said. Ever since they'd arrived in Orzammar, Lyra had been feeling a slight sense of unease coming from deep underground. She could only assume it was the Darkspawn deep within the tunnels. She shuddered to think of a small dwarven woman alone in the darkness, with Darkspawn all around.

"It really isn't safe for anyone else to come with us," Alistair said. "The only reason Grey Wardens can venture into the Deep Roads alone is because we can't be killed by the Taint. With the amount of Darkspawn...it would be really, really easy for any of our companions to be affected."

"What about Kestrel? He's ripped the throats out of Darkspawn, he must have been exposed before now," Lyra said, the thought occurring to her for the first time that her pet might have been in danger.

"Are Mabari immune?" Alistair wondered aloud, and they both turned their heads toward the dog. He was panting lightly, and he licked his chops and whined. Lyra tossed him a hunk of nug, and he devoured it in short order.

"Well...if you think he'll be okay, then let's take him. He can help us track Dagna," Alistair said, and Kestrel barked eagerly.

"I'll send a message to Janar," Wynne said. "And don't run off yet - I need to give you some supplies." The Mage hurried down the hall, and Lyra and Alistair finished their food and headed back to their room to pack.

Wynne arrived shortly afterward with a bundle of poultices and a few jars of salve, as well as packets of traveling food she had obtained for them. She handed each of them some of the supplies, and they added them to their bundles.

"Thanks, Wynne...we'll need extra, for Kestrel, and for Dagna when we find her. This will come in handy," Lyra said.

"She can't have gotten very far. I don't like this...I wish I could come with you," Wynne fretted, and Lyra hugged her.

"Don't worry, Wynne...we'll be okay," she said. Alistair came and put his arms around them both, and Wynne laughed a little.

"You're both so like children...but you're like my children. Come back to me, or I'll..." Wynne trailed off, unable to think of a suitable punishment for dying.

"I'll hold you to that, Wynne," Alistair grinned.

"Do that," she said, and Alistair and Lyra shouldered their packs.

"Tell everyone what's happened," Lyra said. "I don't imagine we'll be gone more than three days. Maybe we can even find her today, and be back by dinner."

"I hope so, Lyra," Wynne said, and smiled faintly. "I feel so badly. If only..."

"I know. I wish I'd just said she could come with us. This is my fault," Lyra said, her eyes darkening with sadness.

"No, it's not. Dagna chose to do this. Do not blame yourself, Lyra," Wynne said firmly. Lyra nodded, but her eyes remained haunted.

"C'mon," Alistair said. "The sooner we go, the sooner we'll be back."


Janar came hurrying up as they strode out of the Assembly.

"Wardens, thank the Stone. I can't tell you how much I appreciate this. I heard you might need something with Dagna's scent?" He held out a scarf, and Kestrel buried his nose in it, memorizing the dwarf girl's unique scent. He whuffed, and looked expectantly at Lyra.

"May we take that with us, Janar?" Lyra asked, and the merchant handed it over wordlessly.

"It's still early...she must have left in the middle of the night. She can't have gotten far. Can you find her?" Janar asked, his heart in his eyes.

"We'll do everything we can. We need to hurry, though," Alistair said, and Janar stepped back.

"Thank you, Wardens...Stone's Blessing," Janar said, and they hurried toward the elevator.


Half an hour later, Lyra and Alistair passed the final set of guards, and entered the Deep Roads proper. Lyra was surprised...it didn't look that different from Orzammar.

"I thought it would be more...cave-like?" Lyra said. Alistair chuckled.

"Most of the Deep Roads is actually old cities and passages created by the dwarves. Same high ceilings, same massive doorways. No doubt some of it is falling into disrepair, but the only reason the dwarves don't still live here is the Darkspawn. Their population is steadily shrinking...I meant it when I said I would send troops to help them. They need it," Alistair said. Lyra nodded...it was so sad to think that they had lost most of their empire, and that all that remained was one city. She tried to imagine the human population being reduced to only what would fit in Denerim.

The quiet sense of unease that Lyra had felt was growing, slowly.

"Feel that?" Alistair asked, and she nodded grimly.

"Nobody close, yet, but we're still pretty near to Orzammar. Routine patrols would wipe everything out this close in. Kestrel, any signs of Dagna?" Alistair asked.

Kestrel took another sniff of the scarf in Lyra's hand, and then put his nose to the ground. He began moving forward, and then barked and ran off down a tunnel.

"Come on!" Lyra said, and they ran after the Mabari.


Lyra swung her sword and took the head clean off of a Genlock. From behind her, she felt rather than saw a Hurlock charge, and spun to sink her dagger into it's heart, giving the knife a menacing twist. The Hurlock screamed defiance and died on her blade.

Alistair's sword sent charges of lightning zinging through the Hurlock he was fighting, and then he bashed out with his shield, sending it spinning to the ground. Panting, he sheathed his weapon and grinned over at Lyra.

"Having fun?"

"You sure know how to show a girl a good time," she said, and wished she had something to clean her blades with. The Darkspawn blood was everywhere...how did they always managed to get so covered with gore? She wiped a splash of blood from her face, and reached for her waterskin.

Kestrel bounded back and forth, whining.

"We must be close," Alistair said. He took a quick drink, and hooked his waterskin back onto his belt. "Are we close, Kestrel?"

The Mabari barked eagerly, and whined, straining to continue down the tunnel.

They'd been running-walking for about three hours, and the Darkspawn were getting thicker by the mile. Lyra was beginning to be really worried for Dagna...it didn't seem likely that the girl could still be alive, not without a phenomenal amount of luck.

Kestrel bounded forward, and the Wardens followed him down a tunnel and around a corner. The sick feeling Lyra had come to recognize as Darkspawn-sense began growing in her gut, and two more minutes of running brought them into a small, cave-like room. A group of genlocks were snarling and spitting, fighting with each other to try and get to a small crack in the wall.

Lyra called out tauntingly, and they spun and growled, red murder on their faces. Alistair yelled, "For the GREY WARDENS!", and ran forward with his shield held out. Lyra was two steps behind him, her weapons drawn, her sword aflame. Alistair swung his shield in a circle, and four Genlocks hit the ground, stunned. Lyra met the remaining two with both blades, and enchanted fire rippled over the torso of the Genlock on her left. He screamed horribly, and batted at his arms as the flames caught him like dry tinder. She yanked her blade out of his torso and plunged it and her dagger back into the Genlock on her right. Alistair was spinning between Genlocks, striking out with sword and shield, and the last one fell with a wet thud.

"Thanks for your help, mutt," Lyra called sarcastically, and rubbed her left wrist, grimacing a little. She had twisted it as she killed the last Darkspawn, and now it ached. Kestrel ignored her, and pawed at the crack in the wall that the Genlocks has been so interested in.

"Find something, Kestrel?" Alistair asked, and Lyra looked over with interest.

"Please, don't hurt me!" a small, feminine voice sobbed, and Lyra hurried over with Alistair toward the wall. Through the crack, she could make out the figure of a shivering girl with red pigtails.

"Dagna?" Lyra said, and the girl nodded. Relief spread through her bones. They had found her!

"We won't hurt you... We were looking for you. Thank the Maker..." Lyra said, and Alistair reached through the crack to offer her his hand.

Dagna was unhurt, but hungry and dirty. She admitted sheepishly that traveling the Deep Roads on her own was quite possibly one of the stupidest ideas she had ever had, and Lyra silently agreed with her.

"I promise you, Dagna...we will make sure you get to the Tower. But we can't do it if you're dead," Lyra said firmly, and Dagna nodded.

"I've waited nineteen years...I suppose I can wait a few more months," she said resignedly. "Thank you for coming to get me. Really, I should've been left to die."

"Orzammar has lost too many dwarves already, Dagna. You're too valuable to lose," Alistair said, and the young woman smiled shyly at him.

They began the walk back, which was mostly quiet and clear, since they had cleared out most of the Darkspawn as they traveled. They did run into a few more groups, as well as a small pack of Deepstalkers, but dispatched them with no trouble. Dagna stayed out of the way.

Lyra was happy. They had found Dagna, and would be back in Orzammar in time for supper. About half an hour remained of their journey to the gates, when Lyra's ears caught the sounds of...something. She paused, listening closely.

"Do you hear that?" she said softly, and Alistair and Dagna paused.

"No," Alistair said, and then Dagna shushed him.

"I hear it!" she said. "It sounds like..."

"A baby," Lyra said, and she and Dagna hurried toward the sound, Kestrel and a befuddled Alistair bringing up the rear. The mewling sounds grew louder, and Lyra prayed they would find the source before something hungry did.

They rounded a corner, and on a ledge about eight feet up Lyra spied a pile of blankets. She sprinted toward them, shucking her weapons as she did. She found handholds, and pulled herself carefully up to the top of the ledge.

A tiny infant waved it's arms and kicked, making small hungry sounds. Lyra's heart melted...it was so little! She gathered the baby carefully into her arms, and looked down over the ledge.

"Alistair, can you climb up, just a little? There's a small ledge, right there..." she gestured, and Alistair clambered up. She handed him the bundle, and then climbed carefully down, taking the baby again when she got to him, and managing to step carefully down the last few feet.

"Maker..." Alistair breathed, peering at the bundle in Lyra's arms. Kestrel sniffed at the blankets, and panted happily.

"It is a baby," Dagna said, her eyes round.

"Why would a baby be out here, all alone?" Alistair said, his brows furrowed. "D'you think we should look for parents? Maybe something bad happened..." he trailed off, and then Dagna gave a cry of recognition.

"Oh, Stone take me, I know whose baby this is," she said, her voice tinged with sadness.

"Whose?" Lyra said. The tiny infant grabbed her finger, and tried to pull it into his mouth. She pulled it away in alarm, afraid there might be Darkspawn blood on her fingers. The baby sucked on his fist instead, and his eyes closed sleepily.

"Zerlinda. She's a friend of mine...or, she was, I guess. She fell in love with a man from Dust Town, and gave birth to this boy."

"And?" Lyra said.

"Well, her parents threw her out...she was trying to get by, but her man abandoned her. He was obviously just trying to get himself into a higher caste, but when the baby was born a boy he was casteless like his father."

"Wait. That's how caste is determined?" Alistair asked. Dagna nodded.

"By the same sex parent. Noble-hunting is one of the only things casteless can do...with the population dwindling, dwarven families are happy for the births of any children, so it's allowed. But the Shaperate doesn't acknowledge children born to the casteless...they say they don't exist."

"This obviously exists," Lyra said, gesturing to the baby she was cradling. "But that doesn't explain why the baby was out here."

"Zerlinda's parents made her an offer...abandon her son to the Roads, and they would allow her to come home, and forget the whole thing ever happened. I guess she made her choice," Dagna said.

"What?" Lyra cried. "I can't believe any woman would...would just...leave her baby to die in the dark!" Her heart twisted painfully. The knowledge that this child had been left for dead hurt, terribly, and Lyra was reminded once again of her own childless state.

"She didn't want to...I imagine her father got to her at last," Dagna said. "She shouldn't have taken up with that rat bastard in the first place, that's how I feel about it."

"She fell in love," Lyra said. "That isn't a crime."

"It is if the one you love is casteless."

"Unless a baby is born, and it's the right gender," Alistair said dryly. "Makes all kinds of sense." He reached over and stroked the baby's cheek gently, his eyes softening.

"Exactly," Dagna said. She really didn't seem to understand why Lyra was so upset. "Aren't there rules about this sort of thing on the surface?"

"Yes, but when unexpected children are born, we try and make the best of things," Lyra said. "And sometimes, those children grow up to be more of a blessing than anyone ever thought they could have been." She looked at Alistair and smiled, thinking what a tragedy it would have been if the man she loved had never been born. Alistair grinned back at her.

"I won't stand for this," Lyra said. "We're going to speak with Endrin."


"It's an outrage!" Lyra said heatedly. "Your population is dwindling. How can you allow children of any kind to be left to die? Why are the casteless not given opportunities? You have an entire section of your city that is festering, and those people could be given work! It's folly to not use the resources everyone has to offer!"

Lyra was standing before King Endrin, holding the bundle of blankets. Alistair stood behind her at a slight distance, and King Endrin sat on his throne on a low platform at the front of the room. Beside him, his children stood listening. Trian's face was cold, but Vesta and Behlen looked interested in what Lyra was saying. Endrin's face was a carefully controlled mask.

"Surfacer, you do not know our ways. I understand that humans think differently, but the casteless are not valid citizens. They are criminals, wastrels. They weaken the Stone." Endrin's voice was implacable.

"You're right. I don't know your ways. But how can it be right to kill a child because it was born of the wrong gender?" Lyra asked desperately. "Alistair is a bastard, a child no one expected or wanted. And now, he's going to be King of Ferelden, and he's one of only two remaining Grey Wardens in the country. Without him, the entire nation might be lost! Tell me we aren't incredibly lucky his mother didn't murder him at birth!"

"Alistair was born to Maric. Were he a dwarf, his blood would be royal based on that fact. Be that as it may," Endrin said calmly. "Our traditions are what they are."

"Sod our traditions," Behlen said fiercely. "I agree with the Warden!"

"Yes, we know you do, Behlen," Trian said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Tell us, how many casteless women are you seeing at the moment?"

"That's none of your affair, Trian," Behlen said, his face darkening. "Father, let the casteless become Warriors. They could be sent into the Deep Roads, we could get the thaigs back-"

"Have you lost your mind?" Endrin cried, looking at his youngest son. "The Warrior Caste is a proud, respectable lineage-"

"Like Oghren?" Vesta murmured, and Endrin sighed.

"Oghren is...a special case."

"He's not allowed to carry weapons in the city because he nearly killed someone. He's constantly drunk, and he does nothing but moon over Branka and spend coin in Tapster's. Obviously a proud, respectable warrior," Vesta said sarcastically.

"Oghren is not the point here!" Endrin bellowed. "Warden, I hear your plea. Our ways are not your own. I will not prevent the girl from keeping her son - I will not even prevent her father from taking both of them back into his house, if that is his choice. But you cannot hope to come in here raging at me and think you can change thousands of years of tradition in one moment of passion."

Endrin stood. "We are finished. Behlen, Vesta, Trian - join me in my office. Warden, take the child to Ordel of the Mining Caste, and for Stone's sake, allow him to make the choice he will regarding the welfare of the child. You can't save everyone." Endrin turned and exited, followed by Behlen, Vesta and Trian.

Lyra gritted her teeth and bowed, then spun on her heel and left the room. Alistair followed her quietly.

"What did he say?" Dagna said, trotting along after them. Kestrel nudged Alistair's hand, and the Warden patted him absently.

"We're taking him to his home," Lyra said shortly. "Where do Zerlinda and Ordel live?"

Dagna scurried ahead of them, showing the way. They left the Diamond Quarter and took the elevator to the Commons, and then Dagna pointed them toward a modest looking door, not far from her own home. She waved, and disappeared into her house. Traffic was light...it was the end of the day, and merchants were closing down stalls and hurrying to their homes.

Lyra took a deep breath, and knocked firmly on the door Dagna had indicated. After a moment, it opened, and a frightened looking dwarf woman with gray hair looked at Lyra apprehensively.

"Is this the home of Zerlinda and Ordel?" Lyra asked. From behind the woman, she heard voices.

"Who is it, Marta?" a male voice said. The woman wordlessly pulled the door open wide, and a stout dwarf with a closely trimmed brown beard appeared in the doorway. His eyes widened, and then narrowed when he saw Lyra's bundle.

"Ordel, I've brought your grandson home to you," Lyra said. "Is Zerlinda here?"

"Oh, my baby!" a young woman's voice cried, and she pushed past her parents to take the bundle carefully from Lyra's arms. She began cooing at the tiny boy, who laughed when he saw her face. Tears ran down Zerlinda's cheeks, and she hugged him to her, sobbing happily.

"Zerlinda, give him to me," her father said. "I'll do it myself this time-"

"No!" Zerlinda shouted. "I won't let you! You pushed me for weeks, and I finally gave in...but now my son has come back to me, and I will not let him go again!" She looked at Lyra entreatingly.

"Warden, please...will you take me to the surface with you, when you leave? I can find a new life there, where my son and I can live together."

"What!" her father said, shocked. "You would leave Orzammar...give up your caste, your Stone sense, your family, for this misbegotten cur?"

"He's not a cur! He cries like any other infant, and smiles when he's warm and full. And yes, I would leave Orzammar," Zerlinda sobbed. "I don't care! I can't kill my baby," she said, and hugged him close.

Lyra recognized her now...she had been the one in Dust Town the day before, crying by the entrance, clutching her babe close. She must have been making the awful decision to go home...

"If you truly wish it, Zerlinda, then yes, I'll take you with me when I leave," Lyra said. "I know a dwarf merchant on the surface who might take you in as a cook, or servant of some kind."

"Yes, anything," Zerlinda nodded. Her father glared at Lyra, and then turned to his daughter.

"Zerlinda, please...let's not be hasty. If you really would keep him, and even leave Orzammar to do it..." he sighed. "Come back inside. We'll work it out."

Zerlinda looked at him distrustingly, and Lyra reached for her hand.

"You don't need me, if you really want to leave Orzammar," she said quietly. "You can do it at any time. Remember that. On the surface, we're all equal." Lyra squeezed her fingers, and Zerlinda nodded, encouraged.

"Thank you for saving my baby," she whispered, and the family stepped back through the door, which clicked closed quietly.


A/N: Vesta Aeducan is the invention of the very talented writer, WellspringCD. Check her stuff out!

Thanks to The Original Frizzi, Berserkians Fury, Pharin of the Dunedain, sassyXviolets, FenZev, and KnightOfHolyLight for reviews. Hope you're enjoying this alternate Orzammar...it's just about finished. Then the "real" fun can begin...