CHAPTER 52

"I hope Zerlinda doesn't let her father take the baby..." Lyra said quietly. She and Alistair were walking slowly back toward the Diamond Quarter, hand in hand. Kestrel padded along beside them, sniffing the ground and panting.

"I'm just glad we found him in time. He can't have been out there for more than half an hour...the moment he cried, he would have been found by something hungry with pointy teeth. Do you think many babies get abandoned to the Deep Roads?" Alistair asked.

"It must be fairly common, since it didn't bother Dagna," Lyra said quietly. "It's just so awful..."

"I know," Alistair said, and pulled her close into a tight hug.

"I could never let a child of ours go," Lyra whispered.

"You'll never have to," Alistair whispered back. "If we're lucky enough to have a child someday, one of our own or one we merely claim as our own, it'll be the most spoiled, coddled, cared-for child in all of Ferelden."

"Damned right," Lyra said, and he chuckled, and kissed her forehead.

When they got back to the Assembly, Zevran pulled them aside. He quietly reported that Emissary Stuart had left the city late in the morning. About five miles out of Orzammar he'd met with a most unfortunate accident on the road, and was no longer a threat to anyone.

"And he sent no messages to Loghain?" Lyra asked, her heart twinging slightly. I may be damned for this, she thought to herself. But it's for Ferelden. If I pay for that decision, then I pay for it.

"None, my flower. You have nothing to fear," Zevran said easily. Lyra nodded.

"Thanks, Zev," she murmured, and the assassin kissed her hand, and left the room. Alistair sighed.

"I hate that we had to do that," Alistair said. "The man was a supreme ass, but I don't know that he deserved to die..."

"He's the one who made threats," Lyra said evenly. "I would have killed him myself if necessary."

Alistair looked at her, surprised. "Really? I...wow. That's, um...wow, Lyra. Didn't know you had thatin you."

She looked at him, her eyes deadly serious. "This isn't a game, Alistair. Ferelden needs you, needs us, and I intend to make sure you sit the throne. If I have to use every political connection my family posesses, I will make certain that we don't fall to another tyrant like Loghain. It's my duty as a Cousland. I hope you can understand that." She kissed him gently, and moved off to see about dinner.

Alistair thought uncomfortably about what Zevran had said about Lyra's political power, and how she could put any man she chose on the throne. He wasn't sure how he felt about this idea...that the woman he loved could be a ruthless politician, capable of committing murder to further her cause.

He rubbed the back of his neck, his mind troubled, and followed her toward the common room.


The next morning after breakfast, they began preparations to leave Orzammar.

"I'll just head over to Janar's shop, see about picking up the sword. Um, you stay here and pack, maybe?" Alistair asked, edging toward the door.

"I'll come with you," Lyra said. "It won't take a moment to finish putting our things in the bags, and I want to see the sword!"

"Um...alright," Alistair said, wondering how he was going to manage his stop at the jeweler. "I know! Let's get Leliana and ask her to come along. She likes shopping, right?"

"She does, but I know she spent most of the day yesterday wandering the market. She might not need anything else."

"Well, we wouldn't want to be rude. Let's ask her," Alistair said, desperate for Lyra to be distracted. Lyra shrugged, and they collected Leliana, who said she would be delighted to go to the marketplace again.

"Lyra, there was a stall that had the cutest shoes..." Leliana gushed, and Alistair grinned to himself. He should have plenty of time.


"Here she is..." Janar said, and unwrapped a piece of cloth to reveal a graceful longsword with a scalloped blade. The hilt was shining silver, the grip wrapped with leather and criss-crossed wire to ensure a solid hold. The blade ended in a wicked looking point, and gently gleaming blue lines swirled along the length of the blade. Lyra could have sworn they glowed slightly.

"I've seen decorated swords before, but this...this is exquisite, Janar," Lyra said appreciatively. "What materials did you use?" Alistair took the sword reverently and held it in his hand, testing the weight. It was perfectly balanced, and felt as if it had been made for his hand. I guess it was... Alistair thought to himself. He took a careful practice swing, enjoying the feel of the blade cutting through the air.

"The hilt and blade are one piece, to create continuous strength, and the hilt is dipped in silverite and wrapped with suede and wire. The blade is the ore you brought me, and I've folded lyrium into it...that's what creates those blue lines. Because of all the lyrium, this sword has a great capacity for magic... If you wish, I can have one of my apprentices enchant it for you."

"I know an excellent enchanter on the surface who I plan to ask," Alistair said, his eyes on the graceful lines of the longsword. Janar nodded.

"It's amazing. Janar, you did a fantastic job!" Lyra said. An apprentice brought out a scabbard made to fit the sword, and helped Alistair strap it onto his back. The Warden slid the blade carefully into the scabbard, and grinned delightedly at Lyra. She took his old sword and held it for him as they made adjustments, making sure the scabbard was well-fitted.

"I wish I could take full credit. My apprentices did most of the work...what with Dagna missing, I was a wreck. I supervised the majority of it," Janar said. "I cannot thank you enough, Wardens, for bringing my girl back to me. When she came home and told me she intended to go to the Circle...I'm afraid I lost my temper and forbade her to go. If I hadn't...perhaps she wouldn't have run," he said softly. "I will let her go with you, when you return. I would rather know she is alive and safe, than risk her running again." Lyra smiled at the man, approving his decision.

"How much do we owe you?" she asked, reaching into her belt pouch.

"Not a thing. What with the gems Alistair gave me, you are more than paid up," Janar said, and shook Alistair's hand firmly.

"Uh... Thank you, Janar. Alistair, do you want to keep your old sword?" Lyra asked, holding out the blade in it's worn scabbard.

"Would you take it, Janar? In trade?" Alistair asked.

"Certainly..." Janar offered a price, and they accepted. Alistair's old sword and worn belt was taken away.

"Thank you again, Janar. Stone's blessing," Lyra said, and she and Alistair left the shop. She turned to look at the other Warden, a questioning look on her face.

"What was that Janar said about gems?" Lyra said to Alistair with a raised eyebrow.

"Ahhhah...yes. I took some gems from the Dragon's hoard...you know, to... trade with," he said uncomfortably, and Lyra nodded slowly.

"I see. Good thinking," she said with a small smile. Obviously, he was hiding something, but she wasn't overly concerned. Alistair was so very transparent, she doubted he could keep a secret from her if his life depended on it...she would find out what it was sooner or later, she was certain.

"So, did Leliana show you those...shoes...or whatever it was she was looking at?" Alistair asked carefully. He glanced over his shoulder at something.

"Oh, no, not yet. Maybe I'll just go with her...see what the hype is all about..." Lyra said, sensing he wanted to get rid of her. Alistair brightened.

"That sounds good. I'll meet you back at the Assembly?" he asked, and she kissed him.

"Sure. See you there," she said, and walked over toward the shoe shop, where Leliana was browsing happily.

"Look at these, Lyra...they're adorable, aren't they?" Leliana said breathlessly. She was mooning over a pair of fancy, high-heeled boots with blue silk trimming and small, golden charms dangling from the ankle. "Your Ferelden boots are sturdy, but so...ugly."

"Those shoes wouldn't last three minutes walking through the mud," Lyra remarked. "There's a reason I wear these boots."

"Maybe so, but sometimes a woman likes to have pretty feet. I really miss the shoes in Orlais..." Leliana sighed, and Lyra glanced behind her as Leliana kept talking, covertly seeing if she could locate Alistair. She thought she caught a glimpse of his back, disappearing into a...jewelry shop? Leliana asked her a question, and Lyra snapped her head back around.

"I'm sorry, what did you say Leli?" Leliana began to enumerate on the virtues of silk versus lace, and Lyra tuned out.


"It's incredible," Alistair said happily. "You've really never seen a rose before?" He fingered the tiny silver ring, admiring the sparkle of the diamond set in the center of the petals. It was designed to look like an entire rose, with the stem curling around to form the ring, and the rose open to reveal the gem in the center. Two delicate silver leaves curled around the shining blossom. After finding Lyra looking at the dried and crumbling rose he'd given her as a birthday gift, he'd gotten the idea to have a ring crafted to look like the flower she loved so much. It would last much, much longer than the token he had given her months ago.

"I was intrigued by your drawing, and so I asked the Shapers if they had any records of your flower," the artisan said. "I found some literature, and some more pictures. It helped. But I got it right?"

"Very, very right. It's perfect...Thank you," Alistair said fervently, and slipped the ring back into the tiny bag it had been in. He pocketed it, and handed the artisan their agreed-upon price. He was putting his coin pouch away when his eye was caught by a small mirror on a table. It was made of gold, and encrusted with pearls and opals. He remembered a night by the fire, when Morrigan had told a story about her childhood.

"How much for this?" he said, picking up the mirror and turning it over in his fingers.

"For you, sir? Two sovereigns." Alistair handed over the money, and the merchant wrapped the mirror in protective cloth. He thanked the man, and hurried out of the shop.

As he jogged back to the Assembly, he suddenly wondered...how was he going to manage to give Morrigan the mirror without offending Lyra? It was a fanciful whim that had prompted the purchase... a desire to give Morrigan something beautiful, something that had been destroyed by her evil mother in her un-childlike childhood. He worried the whole way back. What had possessed him to buy the mirror? Morrigan was a sore subject...if Lyra found out...

The memory of Morrigan's lips on his cheek intruded, and he flushed. This was a mistake... he thought, chewing on his lip.

He knocked on Morrigan's door, looking behind him to see if anyone was around.

"Morrigan?" he called softly. No answer, and so he pushed the door open gently. The witch was not in her room, but her pack was on the bed.

Sudden inspiration struck, and he took the mirror from his pocket and slipped it into her bag, still wrapped in the cloth. He snuck out, and closed the door, his hands perspiring slightly.

He shuffled quickly to his room, and hid the ring in it's pouch deep in his bag, hoping Lyra wouldn't have reason to go digging through his things. He wasn't sure what he planned to do...after Lyra's speech the night before about politics, he was even less certain that she wouldn't take it the wrong way. As long as there were no formal commitments, she couldn't accuse him of using her... Perhaps he would wait until after everything was over. Plenty of time for commitment once he was on the throne, and the Archdemon was dead.

Alistair sighed, and knotted his packs shut.


"Wardens. Orzammar will send it's finest warriors to combat the Archdemon. Expect us in Redcliffe in one month's time," Endrin said, and Alistair bowed his head in acknowledgement. A crowd had gathered at the edge of the Commons around King Endrin and his family, seeing the Wardens and their companions off. Dagna waved excitedly, and Lyra saw Zerlinda holding her son at the back of the crowd. Zerlinda smiled warmly at her.

"Thank you, King Endrin...your support means the success of our campaign," Alistair said formally.

Endrin gestured, and a proud looking warrior began to step forward. "As a token of good faith, I will send one of my very best warriors with you now, to travel with you. Alistair, allow me to present-"

"Hey, Warden! You weren't really gonna leave Orzammar without sayin' g'bye, were ya?" a rough voice said, and Oghren pushed through the crowd. "You owe me, ya know. I let ya have her underclothes back as a favor, but I expect a rematch." There was a rumble of laughter, and Lyra's cheeks went red...obviously, her stunt had been observed by many, and probably talked about by more.

"Hey, Oghren!" Alistair said happily. "King Endrin, did you mean to send Oghren with us?"

"I..." Endrin said, and Oghren belched... a loud, colorful sound.

"You needa dwarf? Sure. Love ta go. See the surface, try not to fall up...not gettin' much done here in Orzammar, anyway. They got ale on the surface, right? Once this Blight's over with, you can help me find Branka. Fair trade. I'll help ya kill the Archdemon, and you help me find my sodding wife."

"Fantastic! He can come, right Lyra?" Alistair turned eager eyes on his fellow Warden.

"I..." Lyra looked at Endrin. It was clear that the king had intended to send someone other than Oghren with them. She looked at the dwarven Warrior...and then at Oghren. Alistair looked at her with hopeful, childlike eyes. He nodded slightly, encouraging her.

"Well...yes?" Lyra said hesitantly. Oghren laughed heartily, and Kestrel looked at Lyra and whined.

"Well slap my dwarven cheeks, ol' Oghren's gonna see the surface! Good thing I came prepared. Endrin, you ol' son of a bitch. Tella dwarf next time yer gonna send'im off somewhere. Good thing I got'ere in time."

"Yes...good thing," Endrin said weakly. "Warden, are you certain-"

"Absolutely. Oghren's the best!" Alistair said with a huge grin. "Thank you, King Endrin. We'll take good care of him."

Vesta covered her mouth, and Lyra could have sworn she was laughing. Behlen grinned, and nudged Trian, who rolled his eyes.

"At least he'll be out of the city," Lyra thought she heard Trian mutter.

"Stone's Blessing, Wardens," Endrin said, and Lyra led her companions went through the huge doors leading to the Hall of Heroes. The doors boomed shut behind them, and they began the short walk over the bridge to the gates leading out to the mountainside.

"This is great. I can't believe he's actually coming with us!" Alistair said, his voice reminding Lyra of a kid at Satinalia.

"Believe it, Warden. Ol' Oghren's here to stay." Oghren pulled a flask from his belt, and took a swig. Lyra smiled a little to hear Alistair so excited.

"So, uh, what did you do with her legs?" Oghren said, his voice scandalous and filled with lecherous interest.

"Um...what?" Alistair said.

"Her legs."

"Whose legs?" Alistair said uncomfortably. Lyra heard Zevran snicker.

"That's the problem with dwarven legs," Oghren said, and grunted. "They're useless as an accessory. Her legs, though...go on for a mile. Don't they get tangled up?"

Lyra's mouth dropped open. Leliana giggled, and she shot the bard an offended look. "This isn't happening," Lyra muttered.

"What are you..." Alistair said, and then he lowered his voice, embarrassed. "I didn't do anything with them. I don't know what-"

"Ah, say no more. Just got 'em outta the way and went about yer business. Good on ya, son." Oghren giggled, his gravelly voice accentuating the sound.

"Um...thanks," Alistair said, and then he jogged up to walk beside Lyra. "Is it too late to take him back?" he whispered, his face flaming red.

The gate winched itself open, and they stepped out into the frosty mountain air.

"Yeaechhh!" Oghren cried, and threw his arm over his eyes. "Sodding bright! What in stone's titties is that?"

"It's the sun, Oghren," Wynne said, and Lyra grinned.

"Yup, too late," she said to Alistair.


A/N: ... :-D

Reviewers, love you. Welcome, readers who've caught up! If you've favorited this story, or signed up for alerts...you're awesome. I hope you're enjoying it! Let me know what you think! I have *most* of the rest of the story worked out in my head. Hopefully I can make the characters stick to the script.