Summary: Scarlett is caught off guard by Anora's request to form an alliance after the role she played in her imprisonment. But, true to form, she isn't willing to roll over without giving the ice queen a piece of her mind. Scarlett also sees some familiar faces and is pleasantly surprised to learn that she may have more people in her corner than previously thought.
I burst through the impressively heavy doors of Eamon's estate in a storm of long legs, tangled hair, clanking armor, and rage-filled eyes. The thought of confronting Anora and laying her sins bare and finally getting some answers was enough to put some steam in a girl's stride.
But first things first: I needed to speak with Eamon. I needed to fill him in on everything that had happened and what I discovered about the Tevinter presence in the Alienage. I hurriedly made my way to his study, Alistair just one step behind me, ready to corroborate my claims—not caring a lick about how absolutely bonkers they might initially sound. Bless him.
"Eamon, I'm coming in! I need to speak with you urgently about—" I swung the door to his study open as soon as I reached it, my manners completely falling by the wayside, only to spy my age-old nemesis standing right by his side. "ANORA!" I shrieked.
I lunged for her almost immediately, all too eager to formally introduce her face to my fist after all the abuse she'd put me through. I reached way back, the wind up before unleashing the blow, when Alistair pulled me back by the arm and shook his head, denying me my revenge on the ice queen.
I was fully prepared to hurl my wrath in his direction when it occurred to me that he was right—she was still the queen. I couldn't just assault her, despite every ounce of me screaming to do otherwise. Ferelden may have been teetering on the edge of anarchy, but it hadn't fallen off just yet. No need to hurry things along.
"Maker's breath! It's good to see you in one piece, my friend!" Eamon declared, apparently quite relieved.
"Indeed. After your rather clumsy rescue attempt, I had feared the worst for you. I prayed for your safe return." Anora's thin, nasal voice showed not a shred of remorse or sincerity. Maker only knows what poison she'd been spilling into Eamon's ear while the rest of us were gone.
"Save your prayers for yourself, Anora. You're going to need them." I growled as I turned away from her to address Eamon. "She betrayed us, Eamon. She told the guards we were trying to kidnap her and shipped me off to Fort Drakon. I barely made it out alive!"
"Oh please, Scarlett. Do calm yourself. We were outmanned. There was no way to viably escape Howe's estate without Cauthrien discovering my identity. I did what I had to do. Besides, you seem no worse for wear. Neither of you do." Despite the fact that Alistair and I towered over her, she looked down her nose at both of us, as though we were insects that needed to be squashed quickly.
"I was flogged within an inch of my life. My mind was almost completely flayed by a Tevinter blood mage. For fuck's sake, Anora. Is there no end to your deceit? No limit to your barbarism?"
"How dare you?! I see to it personally that those incarcerated in Fort Drakon are treated justly and humanely. I am deeply wounded that you would infer otherwise." She paused a beat for dramatic effect. "But I am willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. Show me some proof of what was done to you and I will ensure those responsible are punished accordingly."
I quickly began to unfasten my armor, abject indignation plastered across my face, and then it dawned on me. When Wynne had healed me, she'd done a very, VERY thorough job. If I hadn't lived through that horrific experience, I wouldn't have believed it had happened myself. There were no scars or wounds left on me from the encounter. Not so much as a hint of abuse.
Fuck.
"I… I can't." I admitted shyly, my resolve waning. It was now a queen's word against an outlaw Grey Warden's. Guess who wins that one?
"I was there!" Alistair interjected. "A mage in our company used magic to heal her wounds, but I saw what was done to her. It was monstrous!"
"Convenient. And what precisely happened to those holding her captive?" Anora asked, knowing full well the answer.
"We… took care of them." Alistair used as tame an expression as he possibly could.
"Ah. Then it seems the matter is resolved, yes? Good. Now. I was hoping that, despite our rather unfortunate beginning, we can still work together. Will you hear me out?"
I wanted nothing more than to bite her head off. To call her a lying bitch. To wrap my hands around her scrawny little neck and squeeze until I felt her veins protrude and her eyes grow red and watery. But I still needed information. And even if what she was about to say next was bullshit, if I listened closely I figured I might be able to glean a kernel of truth from it.
I glared at her silently, giving her my begrudging permission to continue.
"My father has gone mad. I didn't believe it at first but he is gripped by a paranoia so severe it prevents him from seeing sense. You have only just arrived in the city, so perhaps you are unaware of some… recent events."
"Go on." Alistair bade.
"The city of Denerim has been in turmoil since Ostagar. Many people here are angry or grieving. Strangely, the unrest is worst in—"
"The Alienage." I finished for her.
Her eyes grew wide for only a second before the surprise gave way to her usual cool, calm demeanor.
"Yes. Few elves accompanied the army. They should have little reason to be upset. Which means Howe and my father must have given them reason."
"Perhaps they're not responding kindly to the Tevinter presence there." I suggested bitterly.
"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about. I have no idea what is happening there. But I am certain my father has his hands in it."
"A useful lead, Anora, but you could have just sent this information with your maid." Eamon reasoned.
"That is true. I feared for my safety as Howe's prisoner," she paused again, batting her doe eyes to play on our sympathies. "But to tell the truth, I sent Erlina to you because I hoped we might join forces. You need that evidence for the Landsmeet, but you also need a stronger candidate for the throne. You need ME."
"We both know that we fully intend to put Alistair's name forward at the Landsmeet." I countered.
"I have no doubt Alistair is biddable enough, and decent, but even with his blood he is no king. You think only I can see it?"
It came as a surprise, but the look on Alistair's face… her words cut him. I had been trying to instill confidence in him every chance I got since he'd told me his secret, convince him that he could do this impossible job of leading Ferelden when all this was over and do it well. But despite those efforts, it broke my heart to see how fragile he still was.
"You're making snap judgments based on the, what, 10 whole minutes you've spent in his company?" I shot back.
"I've seen more than enough." Anora insisted obstinately.
"No. You haven't seen the things I've seen. You haven't watched him grow into a leader just as formidable and honorable as any who have come before him, his father included. Mark my words: Alistair will be a fantastic king." I said it emphatically, with every ounce of conviction I could muster. I believed what I said. The trick was getting everyone else in the room to believe it as well—Alistair included.
Alistair low-key slipped his hand in mine and gave me a light squeeze, a small thank you for the vote of confidence.
"Alistair is also a Grey Warden. Despite your claims, it will appear as though you are trying to give your order even more power than it already has. I am a neutral party—and I am already queen." She retorted. Damnit. I couldn't touch that one with a 10-foot pole.
"Anora, you are indeed Cailain's widow, but—" Eamon began to protest before Anora cut him off.
"I am the daughter of Ferelden's greatest general. Who do you think truly ruled this nation for the last five years? Cailan? Please." She scoffed. " I am what this country needs. Not an untrained king who, if what I hear is true, doesn't even want the throne. I can help you stop my father."
The room became filled with an uncomfortable silence that for once I was all too happy to break. If I couldn't throw daggers at her, the very least I could do was speak them.
" You are what this country needs? Pray tell me, Anora, what the fuck have you been doing all year? What steps have you taken to stop your father and Howe from driving this country to ruin? How many darkspawn have you cut down? How many Grey Wardens have you rallied that they may come to our aid in this, our darkest hour?"
"Well, I—"
"Don't, Anora. Don't even try to defend your actions, or perhaps I should say, your complete in action." I drew closer to the queen, using my much more intimidating form and height to command her attention. "Alistair and I have been out there, every single day, fighting this war, securing treaties, forging alliances, helping refugees. All in the name of pulling this great country back from the brink of total destruction. And you? You've been sitting on your hands in Denerim, waiting for someone to come to your rescue behind the scenes so you can swoop in at the end and pretend to be some savior. I won't stand for it. I can't." I paused to collect my thoughts and regain control of the wrath building up inside me. "This country needs much, and it will need even more when all of this is over." My face was mere inches away from hers now, my eyes dark and furious. "But if I've ever been sure of anything, it's that it most certainly does not need YOU."
The ice queen closed her eyes and took a step back, the slightest whisper of a blue vein protruding from her smooth, pale forehead.
"I could have your head on a pike for speaking to me that way." Her sickly sweet voice was completely changed as she said it, her usual edifice of stoicism completely melting away.
"But you won't." I replied, soft and low. "Because when you get right down to it, you need us a whole lot more than we need you. And you know it."
She took a minute to clear her throat and regain her composure.
"If you are quite finished…"
I wasn't, not really. There was still a bevy of choice words I'd just love to spew at Anora. But I was tired—so, so tired. So I opted to leave it there.
"Good. Consider what I have said. For now, I think I will retire to my room. Scarlett, when you have a moment, I ask that you speak to me in private." And with the daintiest of curtsies, out the queen walked.
"Well… she's quite… spirited." Eamon cleared his throat in an attempt to defuse the tension Anora left in her wake. "I remember when Loghain first brought her to Denerim. Poor Cailan was a good boy, but Anora was always two steps ahead. Had him jumping when she snapped since the first time she batted her eyelashes."
"She's always been that way." I admitted bitterly. "Casting her spell, collecting admirers who fawn and fuss and bend to her every whim. It's disgusting."
"Regardless, if what you say is true, Scarlett, she is going to be trouble. But we should keep her close, all the same."
"Is there any chance she could be sincere in wanting to help us?" Alistair posed.
I gave him a look that would have made lesser men curl up in the fetal position and start sucking their thumbs.
"I know, I know. But I had to ask. We can use all the help we can get, right? And she is popular, like Eamon said."
"This is an alliance of convenience. For the moment, we are united against Loghain. However, we obviously want very different outcomes for the Landsmeet. Be careful how much trust you place in her. I do not for a moment think Anora intends to give up her power easily. Still, I would rather have her where we can watch her than actively working for Loghain." Eamon reasoned.
"Fair enough." I nodded in agreement. "Do you have any idea of what might be going on in the Alienage?"
Eamon sighed heavily. "Maker knows what that man is capable of now. I wish I could so much as wager a guess, but…"
"We get it. We'll scope it out first thing tomorrow." Alistair vowed.
"Not first thing, love. We need to make a few visits to the nobles in town again before we do anything else. I learned some very interesting things in Howe's estate. Things that could help our cause and further your claim."
"Oh. Right then. Noble ass-kissing first. Unraveling the mysteries of the Alienage second. Got it."
"It is NOT ass-kissing." I rolled my eyes. "I have news about their loved ones. We can bring them some closure. Some peace. And if they decide to support us in the Landsmeet as a thank you, even better."
"Sorry, I just assumed—"
"Well, you know what they say about when you assume…" I smirked.
"Yeah yeah yeah." He kissed my forehead. "You've had a long couple days. You must be exhausted."
I nodded. "Understatement of the year. Why don't you and I—"
"Warden, I… would speak with you in private before you retire." Eamon interjected.
Eesh. I almost forgot he was in the room. Alistair looked into my eyes, trying to gauge whether I was willing to acquiesce to the Arl's request. I did so with a nod.
"I'll get a bath drawn for you and meet you upstairs."
"Thanks." I gave Alistair a weak smile as he gingerly removed his hand from mine and left the room.
"What is it, Eamon?" I crossed my arms and leaned against the wall nearest his desk. I was tired and pissed off and had no energy left to hide it.
"There is one possibility we have not yet discussed, Warden. One that is certain to solve a lot of our problems and put forth the strongest argument before the Landsmeet to remove Loghain from power…"
"Don't even suggest it." I growled.
"I must. You know a marriage between Alistair and Anora would unite Ferelden. With Theirin blood on the throne and Anora's wisdom and popularity, Ferelden could present the most united front against the Blight."
"It's not going to happen." I retorted forcefully as I began pacing. I needed somewhere to channel my once again growing rage and I didn't want to hurt Eamon, despite the fact that he didn't seem to give a damn that what he was saying was tearing my heart into pieces.
"Of course it won't. Not as long as he's in love with you. But you know what's at stake here, Scarlett. It is a good match with Anora. It would ensure Ferelden's survival. Grey Wardens are renowned for sacrificing much of themselves for the greater good. If you would just cast aside your selfish—"
" Selfish ?" I hissed. "You want to talk selfish?!"
Oh boy. Here it comes. All the nasty things I'd ever thought about Eamon but never had the heart to say aloud. I couldn't help it. I was beyond exhausted—emotionally, mentally, physically, you name it. As a result, the filter from my brain to my mouth had gone bye-bye.
"Tell me, Eamon. Who in the Maker's name agrees to care for a little boy and forces him to live in fucking squallor because you can't be bothered to have a little stain on your reputation? Who then ships that little boy off to a monastery despite him begging and pleading for you not to abandon him because your Orlesian wife just can't handle the inconvenience of his existence? And then, as the cherry on top, when that same wife tries to murder that boy in cold fucking blood for her own selfish gain, you simply send her away, bending the law to fit your whims because you can't stomach the thought of giving her true justice."
"ENOUGH!" Eamon shouted, slamming his fists down on his desk. "I will hear no more of this slander!"
"It's not slander when it's the truth!" I snapped back, my fists mirroring his as they pounded the other side of the desk's surface. Eamon was the first to break eye contact, slowing his breaths to get a hold of himself. I took a moment to do the same before leaving him with some parting words.
"Listen to me, Eamon, and listen well: I will never, EVER support their marriage. Do you hear me? I would rather die than doom Alistair to live out his reign with that backstabbing harpie at his side. Am I in any way unclear?"
He shook his head, unwilling to vocalize his response. Whatever.
"Good. If you'll excuse me."
I turned on my heels and left Eamon's study in a hurry, my thoughts reeling. Was I unduly harsh? Was I being unfair? Was my love for Alistair blinding me to my duty?
Who am I trying to kid? Of course it fucking was.
I turned a corner and body checked an unsuspecting victim of my absent-mindedness.
"Warden!" A raspy voice called from the floor of the brazier-lit hallway. I recognized the voice immediately.
"Riordan!" I offered the other warden my hand and helped him to his feet before pulling him in for a hug. I know he was still practically a stranger, but it just always felt so damn good to see him.
"Ah, yes. I forgot how friendly you are." He chuckled. "I am glad to see you made it safely away. I hear Howe's death has already brought no small amount of cheer to the city."
"Ditto." I smiled. "Maker, you have a habit of somehow showing up just when I need a friendly face."
"I am glad to hear it." He returned my smile. "There is much to discuss, Scarlett. If we want to defeat this Archdemon, we must know where it is and how soon it might strike. As the only two Grey Wardens here, we—"
"Riordan, I completely agree, I really do, but I just do not have the energy right now. You wouldn't believe what I've been through the last few days. Can we speak tomorrow?"
He nodded. "As you wish."
"And Riordan? Do me a favor: Don't go spreading around that it's just the two of us, OK?"
"May I ask why?"
"It's... complicated. I'll explain later, I promise. I just—"
"I understand. Go to your rest, my lady. We'll speak again soon."
"Thank you." I patted his shoulder gratefully as my feet somehow managed to drag me to my room.
…
After Alistair assisted me with my bath, we made our way to the plush bed and drifted off to sleep in each other's arms—a vast improvement from the stone floor of a dank prison cell. I don't remember having nightmares, but who knows? I was practically comatose as soon as my head hit the pillow. In what felt like a blink I was awakened by a servant knocking at the door.
"Breakfast is served, my lady." She announced brightly before inviting herself in.
I rubbed my eyes to try and adjust to the sunlight pouring in through the nearby window as the petite elf placed a generous tray of fruits, jams, and freshly baked breads on the table in the corner of the room. (Huh. Funny how famine somehow always eludes the estates of noblemen, isn't it?) She left for a moment to grab a teapot and some cups and saucers, which she placed near the food. As the heavenly aroma wafted through the air, it hit me. I hadn't even realized it before, but I was, in a word, FAMISHED.
Despite feeling like I could easily sleep for another, oh, 400 hours or so, the promise of food was enough to drag me out of bed. I thanked the servant and didn't even bother waking Alistair before I dug in, stuffing my face as though my life depended on it.
"Ah. The infamous Grey Warden appetite has reared its ugly head yet again, eh?" Alistair's voice startled me and I jumped a little, slowing the pace at which I was shoveling food into my gaping maw out of abject shame.
"It's alright, my love. I won't tell Eamon you're attempting to eat him out of house and home." He smiled brightly as he took a seat beside me at the table.
"Much appreciated." I smirked as I passed him a plate of food. "When in doubt, blame it on the taint, right?"
"Yeah, I do miss having that excuse. It's pretty versatile." He grinned.
"Do you really miss it?"
"Miss what?"
"Being a Warden. And all that comes with it..."
"Sometimes." He nodded, his cheerful demeanor becoming much more solemn. "I know I shouldn't sneer at this chance I've been given but… I don't know. It still feels like a part of me is missing, you know? And on top of that, I hate that you feel so alone now. So burdened by all this."
"Well, about that… I have a tiny bit of good news."
"Maker knows I could use some. Do tell." He pressed as he threw a grape in the air and caught it in his mouth.
"When I was freeing the prisoners from Howe's dungeon, I happened to discover another Grey Warden locked away down there."
"WHAT?!" He had a brief coughing fit but eventually got a hold of himself. "That is huge! Why didn't you tell me sooner?!"
"Oh, gee, Alistair, I don't know. Between our jail-breaking and demon-fighting and Leliana-rescuing and Crow-killing I guess it somehow slipped my mind."
"Point taken." He nodded. "Where is he now?"
"He's here, actually, at Eamon's. His name is Riordan. Says he knew Duncan, if you feel like reminiscing."
"Wow, that's… I don't believe it."
"I couldn't either, at first. But having him here with me… it's helped. I'm not feeling quite so burdened or alone anymore." I smiled weakly. "I hope that brings you a little comfort."
"It does… a little. If it can't be me I'm glad it's… someone."
I got up from the table and knelt before him, running the back of my hand down his cheek. "Hey… don't take it that way. It'll always be you."
He took my hand in his and leaned down to kiss me, slow and deep, before breaking it with a smile. "Flatterer."
I rested my forehead against his for a moment with closed eyes and half-parted lips, just soaking up the glories of tender moments such as this one. They were becoming more and more rare with each passing day.
After a few seconds he rubbed his nose against mine as he softly spoke, "Well, what do you think? Should we climb back into bed and do incredibly naughty things to each other or do you want to head out for that noble ass-kissing you mentioned?" He smirked before kissing the tip of my nose.
I sighed, defeated. The day waits for no one.
"Much to my chagrin, I must choose the latter. Come on, let's win you a crown."
…
We were just about out the door when Riordan popped up again and pulled me in for a hug this time, which I ultimately returned.
"What was that for?" I smiled as we let each other go.
"Nothing in particular. I just figured that was your preferred greeting."
I chuckled. "You know what? When it comes to you, sure." Alistair cleared his throat obnoxiously, waiting for me to acknowledge his presence. "Please allow me to introduce you to Alistair Theirin, the man who is soon to be Ferelden's king. Alistair, this is Riordan, the Grey Warden I was telling you about."
Alistair eagerly grabbed his hand for a vigorous shake.
"It's an honor to meet you, Riordan. Truly you are a most welcome sight in these dark times. Scarlett tells me you knew Duncan."
"Likewise, your majesty. Yes, he was—Wait, you knew Duncan? Did you have dealings with the Wardens yourself?"
"Well, I—"
"I promise there will be time to catch up later, but we were just headed out the door." I interrupted. "There's a growing list of things that must be done before the Landsmeet and not nearly enough time to do them in."
"You promised me an audience, my lady." Riordan reminded me.
I nodded. "And you shall have it as soon as I return. I promise."
Riordan bowed in acknowledgment and let us pass.
I made my rounds and let the gang know that Alistair and I were about to venture out into the city. Pretty much all of them resented that they weren't invited, but as soon as I uttered the word "politics" their tune magically changed. Go figure.
…
We supposed the best place to start was The Gnawed Noble, as that was where we found the majority of them last time. Besides, what member of the nobility doesn't love a little day-drinking? We made it to the entrance of the tavern in record time, weaving our way between chanters and merchants and pickpockets and several other colorful locals with great aplomb. I was about to walk in when Alistair stopped me, his fingers wrapped around my forearm.
"Scarlett? Before we go in, I uh… I'm not sure what to do here. How do we talk to these people?"
"Well, I think our first approach should be to listen."
"Listen?"
"Yes. Do a little snooping, if you will. Read the room a bit. Then, when we see a window, we can insert ourselves into the conversation."
Alistair gulped audibly and began wringing his hands. "Right. Read the room. Have a conversation."
I smiled at him reassuringly before grabbing his hands in mind and kissing his knuckles. "It's going to be fine."
"But they're—"
"People. That's all they are. Just people. Just like us. OK? Besides, we've met them before, remember? The ice is kind of broken."
He nodded. "OK. Here goes."
He opened the door for me and we stepped inside. Sprawling green carpet. Wooden chairs and tables. Surly wenches. Ornery bartender. The place hadn't changed a bit, which makes sense since it hadn't been that long since my last visit, but it felt like eons had passed since I was imprisoned. Time's a tricky thing.
Alistair and I walked up to the bar and I ordered us a few ales in an effort to blend in while I tuned into the conversations surrounding us.
"Will you be attending the funeral?" Asked a woman sitting in the booth to the right of us. She had short dark hair and a soothing, even voice. I risked a glance and pegged her as Bann Alfstanna Eremon of The Waking Sea. And the gentleman seated across from her, unless I missed my guess, was Arl Leonas Bryland. My father had forced me to study and memorize each name of Ferelden's nobility since I was very young. And despite everything that's happened since, that knowledge somehow remained in my memory. I hoped it would be enough.
"No." Replied the Arl.
"No? But he was a friend of yours, was he not? You served in the same regiment under Maric."
The Arl scoffed. "Rendon Howe was no friend of mine. The boy I knew… died in the battle of White River."
"But I heard that his family will not make the trip from Amaranthine. Will you let him go to the flames unmourned?" She asked gently.
"That he didn't die years ago is the only thing worth mourning here."
BINGO.
"Alistair, remember that window I mentioned?"
"Yes?"
"It just opened. Big time. Let's go."
"Bann Alfstanna?" I inquired as we made our way over to the table.
"May I help you?" She asked. She wasn't annoyed—more surprised than anything, really.
"I… was asked to give this to you." I held her brother's ring in my open palm and extended it to her.
"This… is Irminric's. Explain yourself. My brother would no more part with this ring than his own head."
"You might want to ask Loghain." Alistair chimed in.
"Loghain? What does my brother have to do with him?"
"I… found him in the dungeon of Howe's estate." I explained.
"A dungeon? What—no, I will go to him at once. Someone will answer for this. Wait a minute I… You're Bryce Cousland's youngest, are you not? I thought I recognized you."
It had been so long since I was called by my surname that it didn't even register at first. I nodded when I came to my senses.
"Take this." She handed me an amulet of some sort. "It has been in my family for generations. Let it be a sign of the friendship between Highever and Waking Sea. Let me know if you want some of my bowmen when you take back your teyrnir, as well."
It was really blowing my mind that there might actually come a time when the Landsmeet was over and the Blight was gone. Admittedly, it was a rosy view, but it was what we were shedding our blood, sweat, and tears for day in and day out. I was so caught up in what was right in front of me that I hadn't dared look too far beyond it. How could I even so much as hope for the future when the present was so full of tumult? Despite how attractive her offer sounded to help me retake my home, I still couldn't afford to. Not now.
"That's incredibly kind of you, but all I truly seek is to root out the corruption of this city. To expose Howe's and Loghain's treachery. The young man beside me is Alistair Theirin, Maric's last surviving heir. Can we count on your support at the Landsmeet?"
The Bann offered a weak but genuine smile. "Of course you can."
"And mine as well," the Arl pledged. "Bryce and I fought side by side. Your father was a great man. And please allow me to say, without agenda or implication, that Howe got precisely what was coming to him."
I nodded solemnly, unable to take the credit for Howe's demise, regardless of how badly I may have wanted to.
"Thank you. Your support means the world to us." Alistair sounded devastatingly sincere.
The pair bowed their heads in acknowledgement and we moved on, taking a seat at a vacant table near the next conversation we heard beginning to unfold between Banns Sighard and Ceorlic, of Dragon's Peak and The Southern Bannorn respectively.
"Have you heard the news about Howe?" Ceorlic inquired of his companion.
"Everyone in the city has. Bryland must be pleased."
"That half-blood is as cold as the mountains. Did they not serve together in the war?" Ceorlic sounded absolutely disgusted, apparently completely unaware that people are capable of changing from idealistic young soldiers into greedy degenerates as the years pass.
"Oh, I can hardly speak ill of the sense or conscience of any man simply for wishing Rendon Howe dead," Sighard reasoned. "You've met him. The man made vipers seem personable."
I cracked a smile at that one before I took another sip of ale. Alistair did the same.
"Hmph. Well, I didn't say I was shedding any tears over his passing. He never was any friend of mine."
I put the stein down and began to shimmy out of my seat.
"Let me guess: That's our cue?" Alistair inquired.
I nodded, but was beaten to the punch when Sighard suddenly appeared at the end of our table.
"Forgive me but, I know you. Poor Oswyn obviously didn't recognize you. He described you in great detail, but he never mentioned you were a Cousland. I owe you his life."
Wow, another person who remembered little old me. How flattering. And I guess Oswyn had made it back from Howe's safely, despite the rough state he was in. I was glad to hear it.
"I would leave no man to suffer at Howe's hands." I explained.
"When I saw my poor boy's legs… I only wish that Howe still lived, that I might rip him apart myself."
"Well, my sources close to the situation tell me that he suffered until his last breath, if that's any comfort." I offered.
"Little, but some. I would bring troops against his son, but Oswyn tells me Thomas had no part in his father's depravity. Is there any reward you would ask for saving Oswyn?"
OK, the blunt approach it is.
"All I want is for you to speak out against Loghain."
"You needn't have even asked. I will stand beside you at the Landsmeet, with all the support I can muster. In fact, I'm taking my supper today with Bann Reginalda of the White River Bannorn. I'll speak with her about this at once. I cannot thank you enough for what you have done." He shook my hand heartily and gave a slight bow to Alistair before rejoining the other Bann at the table across the way.
I looked at Alistair and gave him my brightest smile. This was going as smooth as butter.
I thought about trying to speak with Ceorlic, but I knew it was a lost cause. He was a die-hard Loghain fan, and for some people, reality just does not matter. They cherry pick the facts and twist them or even outright ignore them to fit their whims. Ceorlic was one such man. There was no point in arguing.
The only other person of note in the tavern was Arl Gallagher Wulff. We had spoken to him before, and he seemed just as inconsolable now as he was then, if not even moreso. I decided not to poke that particular bear. I knew what it was like to feel utterly helpless as your home is getting ripped apart. There's no comfort to be found from anyone. I could only pray he'd see that supporting Alistair would be the right move, for both his arling and the rest of Ferelden.
We finished our ale and headed out the door in record time. I was completely floored by how great that went. Maybe everyone wasn't as gullible as I'd initially thought. Maybe they weren't falling for Loghain's lies and endless fear-mongering. Maybe we had more allies than we realized. Maybe, just maybe, we could win this thing.
"You did great in there." I nudged Alistair's shoulder with mine playfully as we began our walk back to Eamon's to gear up before hitting the Alienage.
" Me? I barely did anything. You, however… you were what swayed them, Scarlett. They knew your name. They recognized your heroism. I don't suppose I could persuade you to be king, could I?" He winked.
I chuckled and shook my head. "Hard pass, love."
"Yeah, I figured. Still, it was pretty obvious the Cousland name still carries a lot of weight, Scarlett. People trust you. They remember what your family stood for. That's… a big deal. Probably bigger than you know."
"What are you suggesting?" I raised a brow.
"Who, me? Nothing, nothing at all. I just... feel like maybe we—"
"Wait." I interrupted. "Look over there. Is that… ?"
I stopped us in our tracks as I spied and drew Alistair's attention toward a figure in a red cloak accepting… something… maybe a letter… from a shady figure who looked suspiciously like the man who'd approached me to help out with the Mages' Collective—a shadow guild that collects and performs requests of a magical nature without the chantry's sanction—the last time we were in town. We only caught a glimpse of the cloaked figure's face for a moment, but it was damn near unmistakable.
"Isolde," we whispered in unison.
As soon as her name left my mouth, I raced to catch her, practically mowing down anyone who dared stand in my way. Alistair was right beside me, trying his best to weave his broad form through the crowded city square. But it was no use. Despite our tries to reach her, she had somehow completely vanished into the crowd. Once we made it out of the thick of it, I checked every darkened alley and nook and cranny I came across, walked through every open door I could find, but there was no trace she was ever there.
She was gone.