There was my sister, as stunning as ever, jewels glittering at her throat and wrists and at the trim of her elegant gown. Her face had subtly changed, her beauty almost luminescent, with a new softness and gentleness around the eyes.
"Rica!" I cried, overjoyed.
"Latitia!" She threw her arms around me. "I heard there was a Gray Warden in the city and I hoped it would be you. Oh, I have the most incredible news. I've borne a son for Prince Bhelen Aeducan!"
I held her tightly, squeezing my eyes shut against tears. "Rica, that is amazing-"
"And," she went on excitedly, pulling back a little to beam at me, "he's moved me and Mother into the royal palace! They say I'm Bhelen's favorite concubine. Oh, he's so beautiful, 'Tisha, I would have brought him to see you but I'm not allowed to take him from the royal nursery."
I blinked as I tried to follow this. "Assuming we're talking about the baby now, and not Bhelen, why can't you take him with you? He's your son."
"Oh, it's not like that." She released me and waved her hands placatingly. "It's just so dangerous on the streets right now. Bhelen's afraid Harrowmont might try something – that's the other candidate for the throne. He tried to frame Bhelen for his brother's death, but I know better. Bhelen cried for weeks after his brother died. It could never have been him. He is the rightful king, not Harrowmont."
And, of course, if he loses, Harrowmont will throw you all out on the streets - if you're lucky, I thought. Out loud, I said, "Well, then we had definitely better make sure Bhelen wins the throne. Can you take me to see him? Let's get this farce over with."
"Oh, but who are your friends? They're so... big... " she faltered a bit, looking at Rocky's bulk and then up (a long way up, past a lot of armor and armament) to Alistair's helmeted head.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, you guys," I said, turning to beckon them forward. "This is my sister, Rica-"
"We gathered," Morrigan said dryly.
"Rica, that's Morrigan, a mage of highest caliber," I said, pointing. Morrigan's lips quirked almost into a smile, but not quite. Rica curtsied.
"And beside her is Wynne, also a mage and renowned as a healer," I went on.
"It is a pleasure to meet you," Wynne smiled warmly. "Latitia has missed you dearly."
"Next up is Zevran, an assassin from Antiva." I noticed Rica staring at his ears and added in an undertone, "He's an elf."
"Oh! Of course, how rude of me to stare," she exclaimed, and started to drop another curtsy, but Zev's hand snaked out and caught hers, bringing it to his mouth.
"I understand completely, my lady," he murmured, his lips brushing her fingers. "I often have that effect on women. Especially such lovely ones as yourself." He kissed her hand and relinquished it, observing with relish the way she blushed pink.
I rolled my eyes at him. "Bhelen will have your head on a pike, Zev, and if you screw this up for her, I'll be the one holding the pike. Anyway. The pretty redhead is Leliana, a Chantry lay sister with hidden talents and an excellent singing voice."
"Hello," Leliana said with a sweet smile.
Next I gestured for Rocky to come closer. "This big guy here is Rocky, he's a real mabari. You can pet him. Rocky, let Rica pet you, there's a good boy." Rica reached out one hand very hesitantly and patted him once on the top of the head. Rocky dog-smiled and wagged his stubby tail.
"And this," I concluded, hooking my arm through Alistair's and pulling him forward, "...is Alistair, my fellow Gray Warden."
"Hi," he said, and gave a short, awkward bow when she curtsied to him.
"So that's everyone," I told her. "Now let's go get your Bhelen's arse on the throne, shall we?"
She wrapped her arm around my waist and I laid mine across her shoulders and off we went, my friends trailing along behind, looking around and above them at the daring architecture and the gems that glowed in the carvings that decorated the walls. "So this Alistair," Rica whispered to me, glancing back at him over her shoulder. "Saved for last? Introduced with a... significant pause?" She winked, and I grinned.
"Yeah, something like that. It's kind of..." I sighed, momentarily distracted from my pleasure at seeing my sister so healthy and well. "Complicated, is the only word for it. We're just taking it one day at a time."
"Hey, even one day with a man like that is something to fight for." She glanced back at him again, and this time he noticed and smiled at her, making her giggle in that adorable way of hers, all dimples and sparkle.
"Hands off, I saw him first. Anyway, I don't think he's ready for you – a night with you, and his head would explode." I lowered my voice to a conspiratorial whisper and added, "He was a virgin, you know."
"Was? Way to go, girl!" she cried. Then her merry eyes turned serious, and her arm tightened around my waist. "Really."
I smiled and looked away, blinking when my eyes stung a little, and gave her shoulder a squeeze.
"We're here," she said then, pulling away and approaching the door guard.
"Rica," the guard said, giving her a nod.
"This is my sister, the Gray Warden," she said, curtsying again. Apparently I was going to have to learn how to do that. "May I escort her and her party to the Wardens guest suite?"
He nodded again, and went back to staring impassively out at the street. We filed past him and directly into the royal palace, and I suppressed a little shiver of excitement and fear at our audacity.
The palace had been surprisingly plain on the outside, built out of heavy gray stone as if to withstand a siege. The interior, however, glistened with inlaid tile, carpet, and beautiful crystals set behind glass in the walls and lit from within by the blue fungus. Rica led us confidently past the royal guards, who ignored us, and into an interior bedchamber twice the size of our entire Dust Town home.
"Wow, this is lush," I said, looking around.
"We – that is, the royal family keeps a suite of rooms like this with human-sized furniture, for when the Gray Wardens visit," she explained, rubbing her hands against her skirt with nervous excitement. "I'll just – I'll go see if Bhelen is busy."
"Not too busy for the Gray Wardens," came a voice from the doorway, and we all turned quickly to see a heavily armored dwarf whose subtle touches of gold and engraving marked him as someone special. He strode directly to Alistair and held out his hand. "I'm Bhelen Aeducan. Welcome to Orzammar."
Bhelen turned out to be a surprisingly young and virile man, with a luxuriant beard and open face. He greeted the others warmly and explained the situation to us. Apparently, the assembly voters had hung in the balance for weeks, and Harrowmont had undermined Bhelen's support at every turn with bribery and slander.
"The Assembly must make a majority vote," Bhelen continued, "and I doubt that will ever be possible at this rate. What we need is a Paragon. Her vote would outweigh the entire Assembly and make me King overnight."
"I assume you mean Branka, but she's been gone for ages," I pointed out.
"Yes, she has. We've been looking for her, but so has Harrowmont. If he finds her first, we're in trouble. That's why I need you: The Gray Wardens are the only ones who can move freely in the Deep Roads without fear of the taint, and you could easily find her before any ordinary dwarf could do so. Find her, and bring her back to vote for me." He punched one first into his hand for emphasis, and I listened to the subtext: And if she won't vote for me, you better make sure she doesn't come back.
I swallowed hard. The Deep Roads? I hadn't made an expedition for almost a year. I really hoped Rica had brought my maps with her when she moved. And my camouflage, grappling hook, chalk, bait... I'd just have to trust that Bhelen would give me any supplies I asked for.
"All right, my Lord," I said at last, inclining my head. "And may I add, thank you for caring for my family. I hope Rica brings you many fine sons, and that your house grows stronger by them."
Bhelen smiled, and he looked genuinely happy. "Your sister is a fine woman, and she has brought me much joy already. You and your companions are welcome to stay here." Then, to my surprise, he held out both fists, thumbs up. I returned his twin hammer sign and looked questioningly at his face.
"I am not so backward as some of the others in the noble castes," he said gently. "I hope to allow the casteless to contribute more to this city. The time has come for all our people to work together and grow stronger by our unity."
I smiled and nodded, but bowed anyway, fists crossed over my chest in respect, before Bhelen turned and left the room with his unobtrusive bodyguards jingling along in his wake.
I turned to Rica immediately and clasped her hands. "So when do we get to meet the little Prince?" I asked her excitedly.
"Right now!" She took my hand and started to lead us out, but paused. "You, uh... You should leave your kit here. Nobody's allowed to bring weapons into the nursery."
The guest rooms lay at the end of the hall, past various rooms for ambassadors and other members of the royal family - including other concubines, but I noted that none of their rooms were as large or positioned as closely to the royal apartments as the one Rica pointed out as hers. The nursery sat next to the treasury and guarded almost as heavily. Four stalwart dwarves stood implacably in front of the nursery door, shoulder-to-shoulder and utterly immovable.
"Astyth's tits, forget stone blocks – we should be building our walls out of guys like that," I whispered to Rica, who giggled, pleased at the protection given her son.
"Nobody allowed in without Lord Bhelen's written permission," said the warrior with the most gold on his heavy helmet. "Sorry, miss. Not even Gray Wardens. Or their... pets." He turned his head slightly, the hidden eyes probably looking at Rocky, but they could just as easily have included the entire party of surfacers.
"Oh," Rica faltered, glancing back at our group. Leliana and Wynne looked disappointed, Zevran and Morrigan impassive, and Alistair was just watching with interest. "I – I'm sorry, I forgot, I should have asked Bhelen when he was here. I don't like to interrupt him when he's working, but maybe-"
"Don't worry about it," I waved off her embarrassment. "We'll see my new nephew soon enough. It's good to know he's safe, and I don't want to get you in trouble for bugging Bhelen."
Her face relaxed in a relieved smile. "Okay. I'll just feed Endrin, then – oh! That's his name, my son." She lingered over the word with obvious pleasure. "Anyway, I'll feed him and then I'll come get you and we can catch up for a few hours until Bhelen's done working."
She bustled inside and we heard her joyful voice as she greeted her boy. The guards were giving us the hairy eyeball, so I turned and led us back to the Wardens' quarters.
"How delightfully domestic," Zevran observed as we walked. "I almost find it hard to believe the mighty, powerful, well-bearded Lord Bhelen even had occasion to meet her, much less fall in love with her."
"I don't know if he loves her," I said, pushing the door open to the room Rica'd shown us. "It honestly doesn't make any difference. She's given him a son, and noble and warrior castes are so grateful for sons, many families will gladly take in a casteless mother to care for their new boy. It's still a little bit scandalous, though."
"I wonder why our new friend was willing to risk it." Zevran crossed to the sinfully large bed and flung himself across it, propping his head on his hand. Rocky leaped up and flopped beside him in an identical attitude of repose, his tongue lolling out happily.
I gave him an amused look. "Bhelen's got a reputation for... open-mindedness, I guess. Bherat had other words for him, but none I'd care to repeat in his own palace. He likes nice things, and he doesn't much care whether they came from Dust Town or the Diamond Quarter. Or the surface, for that matter."
We busied ourselves unpacking and exploring the suite. The room Rica had given us was one of several, joined together in the middle by a common room with an actual fireplace, stocked with coal and a few precious pieces of firewood to give familiar comfort to the Wardens. We also noticed a distinct lack of sharp objects, and most of the furniture had rounded corners, the walkways wider than strictly necessary, and the bathtubs (each room had its own!) had handrails set into their sides.
Alistair sat on the edge of a bed and ran a finger over the rounded, padded footboard, his eyes dimming. Seeing my concerned look, he sighed and explained, "The Wardens come down here to die in battle with the darkspawn. You remember that, right? I guess... I guess some of them are pretty far gone when they do. This place is practically baby-proofed."
I climbed up next to him and leaned on his arm. "Don't worry, we'll die a glorious death long before then. Or maybe a hilarious death. Death by naughty lingerie? Death by darkspawn wearing naughty lingerie!"
"Actually, I was thinking about Duncan," he said quietly, ignoring my attempt to cheer him up. "He said he was having the nightmares again. That he didn't have long before his Calling would take him. I guess Loghain spared him that."
"Even the blackest dross can contain a grain of gold," I told him. "It hardly excuses him."
A dainty knock at the door, and Rica danced in, beaming. "We have probably two hours before he gets hungry again, and by then Bhelen will be ready for dinner I think. What do you want to do?"
"I want to hear all about how you were swept off your feet by a young, handsome prince!" I scooted backward to the head of the bed and leaned back on the pillows, patting the mattress beside me.
"I'll give you ladies some privacy. I need a bath anyway." Alistair smiled at Rica. "I've been hearing about dwarven plumbing since I first met your sister, and I'm eager to try it out."
He left, shutting the door behind him, and Rica climbed up on the bed to lean on the pillows. "By the ancestors, this bed is huge. Have you been sleeping on-"
"I missed you so much," I burst out. "Stone, Rica, I thought you were dead. I thought I'd killed you by being such a stupid ass." My voice cracked and I bent to press my forehead into her shoulder when I felt my face flush.
"I missed you, too, cookie." She put her arms around me and for a moment we clung to each other. "The merchants brought all kinds of bad news. They said there's a Blight, and the humans are losing."
"They are." I sniffled and pulled away a little to wipe my nose on my sleeve. "Their government can't get their act together, and they let all the other Wardens and their own King get killed in the first big fight. It's the dumbest thing, Rica. They're as bad as the nobles down here. Alistair... Alistair's the only one left."
"And you," Rica said, petting my hair. I snuggled a little lower in the pillows and leaned on her shoulder again, and it was almost like I'd never left. Except this was a much nicer bed.
"I guess. I barely count." I shrugged with the shoulder that wasn't pressed against my sister. "I'm mostly moral support. He has no idea how awesome he is, he's always looking for someone else to follow."
"What have you been doing?" she asked curiously.
"Walking." I snorted with self-deprecating amusement. "Lots and lots of walking, except when we're fighting for our lives. Seriously, my hair should be as red as yours – I can't believe that much blood just washes off." I shuddered. The walls that usually kept bad feelings at bay were weak now, in the warmth of my sister's arms, and for a vivid moment I was back in the Harrowing Chamber, soaked in gore and trying to ignore my own pain and panic long enough to help put Alistair's arm back together.
And then it was all pouring out of me. All the fear and uncertainty, the doubt I'd felt as I struggled to navigate the surface world and the people in it. And, one by one, the momentous events of the past few months, the true horror of which I'd locked away out of necessity, but now bubbled up in choking, gasping sobs. Rica made soothing sounds and rubbed my back, and wisely didn't ask questions when I wasn't making sense, which was probably most of the time.
"So," I hiccuped, beginning to calm down out of sheer emotional exhaustion, "I'd have to say, it was either seeing all those hunger demons eating that poor Templar alive, or when Daveth and Jory died and I still had to drink the darkspawn blood."
"What was?"
"Oh, I'm trying to decide what was the worst, scariest, grossest thing that happened," I giggled. Somehow I'd ended up with my head in Rica's lap. She wordlessly handed me another handkerchief from the box beside the bed in response to the edge of hysteria in my laughter, and I took it and wiped my face, trying to focus on practical reality, on the now.
"Not the dragon, eh? I think I'd have been more scared of the dragon," she said matter-of-factly.
"She was pretty cool, actually. Really big, like, so big you can hardly wrap your mind around something that massive even existing, mush less being alive." I sat up, frowning. "And flying. I have no idea how she flies."
"Dragons are magic," she shrugged.
A soft knock came from the door, and Alistair opened it and leaned in, his brow creased with concern. "Bhelen invited us to have dinner with him in his room, in fifteen minutes. Are you... Should I tell the messenger you're indisposed?"
"Do I look that awful? Actually, don't answer that." I hopped off the bed and started toward my pack. "I'll just wash my face and put on clean clothes first."
"Okay." He left, and I heard him talking to the messenger out in the hall.
"I should go to little Endrin before dinner," Rica said, pushing herself off the bed.
"Aww, Rica, I'm sorry," I said suddenly, stopping with my shirt halfway off. "I didn't let you get a word in edgewise. I still really want to know all about Bhelen and your baby. And – Astyth's arse, is Mam here? Is Leske?"
Her pretty face clouded. "Mam is. She's... the same. The only difference to her is the quality of the ale. Leske stayed in Dust Town. I told Bhelen that Leske and I were just friends, but he didn't want other men hanging around."
"That's understandable," I nodded and finished pulling on a clean shirt. "If unfortunate. Hey, where's he living? I went to our old place and it was empty."
"I don't know," she said sadly. "I haven't seen him in ages. Bhelen doesn't like me leaving the Diamond District without him, and of course Leske can't come here."
I found a washcloth in the wardrobe and a pitcher of water on the nightstand, and began washing my face. "I hope he's okay. I'll ask Bhelen if we have to leave right away, or if it's okay for me to go looking for him. And I'd like Alistair to get into some new armor. Can you believe he wears that stuff? It's a death trap – it's full of holes!"
"I wouldn't know," she said, amused.
"Right." I looked up and grinned at her. "You're the kinder, gentler half of the family. Take my word for it, he's lucky we've been fighting monsters and dumbasses, rather than sneaky buggers like me."
Bhelen's "room" turned out to be a sumptuous combination of dining room and living room, with a long table and chairs on one end and,on the other, a semicircle of sinfully plush couches and giant pillows. When I set my eyes on the feast laid out before us, including a whole roast nug with an apple in its mouth, I groaned aloud. The heartfelt sound was echoed by Alistair, and Bhelen grinned, beckoning us to sit down and get started.
"It's always satisfying to lay table for Gray Wardens," he said complacently, leaning back in his chair and smirking as we plowed through the table. I eyed him from behind the nug shank I was gnawing; he'd changed out of his armor and into a soft, loose tunic with a subtle sheen, open at the neck to reveal a heavy gold chain and a luxuriant growth of chest hair.
"So this is nug," Alistair said, when his mouth was clear enough to speak. It had been a long time since lunch. "It's not bad. Very tender."
"I can't eat it. I feel so bad for the poor nug," Leliana said in a small voice, causing me to snort my drink up my nose. Alistair pounded me on the back as I coughed and tried not to laugh too hard at the idea of refusing good meat out of pity.
The meal included a lot of surface food, actually, not just the apple – foods which I recognized, and complimented Bhelen on, which seemed to please him. When we'd finished and Bhelen's unobtrusive servants had carried away the dishes, he invited us to get comfortable on the couches and talk about "how things stand."
"But first," he said cheerfully, "let me offer you all some wine. It's so rare that I have guests who can appreciate it, though your sister has been indulging me lately by sharing a bit. I like ale as much as the next dwarf, but wine is such a pleasure."
He poured generous glasses for Leliana, Wynne, Zevran and himself; Alistair excused himself by confessing he wouldn't be able to appreciate it, and Morrigan was sitting by herself in a corner, looking like she was barely holding on to human form with the stress of being underground.
"May I see the bottle? Ah, I know the vintage. Very fine, very fine indeed," Zevran purred, setting the bottle down on a sidebar and holding the glass up to the lamp to admire the color of the liquid within.
"Oh, it is good," Leliana said, sounding a bit surprised. Wynne nodded, her glass already half-empty. Bhelen grinned in a self-satisfied way and lounged comfortably on a couch, throwing an arm around Rica, who gave him a sticky-sweet smile and returned his kiss with interest.
"Do you want to try it?" he offered, holding his glass out to her.
She giggled and cocked her head adorably. "Maybe a little – you know I can't have much, with the baby. Bhelen, dearest, do you think maybe we could bring him here to meet-"
"Do not drink that!"
Zevran's ringing command brought all our heads up in shocked attention. He was on his feet and grabbing everyone's glasses out of his hands, tossing them directly into the garbage chute, including Bhelen's.
The Aeducan lord jumped up, outraged. "What in the name of the Paragons is wrong with your elf?" he demanded of me.
"Nothing is wrong with me," Zevran said calmly. "I did not drink the wine. You, however, will become very familiar with the latrines over the next twelve hours or so. The wine was poisoned – rather cliché, in my professional opinion, but there it is."
Oh noes! Who could possibly be behind this? Colonel Mustard in the library with a candlestick?
...All silliness aside, Merry Christmas! And I mean that for everyone, because even if you don't celebrate, you still deserve to have a nice day on the 25th of December :)
Thanks to mille libri for catching my dumb mistakes, and to all of you for reading – you are the best Christmas present!
