Orzammar - FINALLY! Hope the Wardens can handle it...
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"Less perilous than Haven, my foot," Zeva complained, pulling her sword out of yet another giant spider; wiping the blade clean on its carcass. "I think I will punch Alistair when I next see him, as he surely cursed me with that statement." Their trip to Orzammar had been nothing short of a nightmare. They arrived to discover that the city had been shut off to all visitors. The dwarven monarch, King Endrin Aeducan, had recently passed away and there was a power struggle going on to determine the new ruler. The Wardens had been forced to choose between the two available candidates and, after much debate, they had decided on Lord Pyral Harrowmont, King Endrin's most trusted advisor.
Next came a series of political trials they had to endure to prove their loyalty to the candidate; including taking part in one of Orzammar's most popular challenges, the Proving. Zeva was forced to watch as Duncan fought an ever-increasing number of foes as Harrowmont's Champion. He ultimately proved successful and their arrangement with the incumbent king had been solidified.
Zeva had despised politics ever since she was a young girl and had seen firsthand the effect it had on even the noblest of men. Now here she was, fighting her way through the Deep Roads beneath Orzammar; all so she could put another useless monarch on his throne.
In order to garner the aid that the Wardens so desperately needed, they had to search the labyrinthine caves of the Deep Roads for the dwarves only surviving Paragon, Branka. The task itself was monumental, and the companions had already been traversing the dark for over a week; searching one thaig after another.
The darkspawn nightmares were making the entire situation even worse. Duncan had warned Zeva that they would be greatly affected by their proximity to the darkspawn, but it was worse than she ever imagined it would be. Ever since they entered the Deep Roads, she and Duncan had been plagued by ever-increasing night terrors. On several occasions, their companions had been awakened by the sound of their screams. The lack of decent sleep was beginning to take its toll, on Duncan even more than Zeva. The Commander had deep circles under his eyes and his normally dark complexion had begun to turn a pallid gray. When she wasn't fighting or healing the party, Wynne was casting Rejuvenation spells on the Wardens, simply to keep them going.
Zeva's only respite from the drudgery was her new companion, Branka's husband, Oghren. He sought the party out as they prepared to leave for the Deep Roads, and demanded that he be included in their search. Though at first she was unsure if the drunken dwarf would even be able to walk straight through the thaigs, Zeva was now thrilled to have him along. He was proving to be not only a fighting marvel, but an extremely personable cohort, as well. He and Wynne spent a great deal of time discussing the finer points of alcohol; a fact that never ceased to amaze the Warden. Though she missed Morrigan, Zeva was glad that Wynne had come along with them to Orzammar. Away from the full party, the elderly mage was quite agreeable and her lectures were kept to a minimum.
It hadn't taken Oghren long to sense the animosity between Duncan and Zevran; or to determine the cause. He spent much of his time pestering one man or the other about their female companion.
"So, Commander, I'm surprised you haven't ripped both the pointy ears off of the elf," Oghren said, a mischievous smile on his face. "If he looked at my woman the way he looks at yours, he would have been dead long ago."
"I can assure you that I would never look at your woman," Zevran retorted, walking past the duo to join Zeva. "Though, as your wife took her entire House and left you behind, I don't think I would have much trouble in taking her from you; should I desire it."
"You know, the Deep Roads is a big place," Oghren whispered conspiratorially to Duncan. "No one would ever find him."
"Don't tempt me," Duncan replied, glaring murderously at the assassin. The Warden Commander had kept Zeva close to him throughout their journey to Orzammar, and he was pleased that the assassin seemed to be respecting his relationship with her. However, since they had entered the Deep Roads, Zevran had increased his protection of Zeva tenfold, and he was never more than a few feet from her side. His concern for her was obvious; and though Duncan shared his worry, his patience with the elf was wearing thin.
"Making friends again, I see, Zevran," Zeva said, chuckling softly as they progressed down a narrow corridor, following an incoherent dwarf who had declared them to the trespassers in his home. Zeva tried reasoning with the haggard figure, but he fled as a wave of giant spiders attacked the companions. The dwarf was the first speaking creature they had encountered in many days; and as such, she had no plans to leave the area before she interrogated him.
Zevran glanced at her, anxiety evident in his eyes as they moved over her pale face. "The dwarf is of no concern to me, Zeva," he replied seriously. "He could fall through a hole and vanish and I wouldn't care in the least. You, however, mean a great deal to me, and it pains me to see you this way. We need to get you away from this place as soon as possible; out of these deadly tunnels and back into the sunshine." Damn you, Morrigan! he thought furiously. The witch had refused to tell him about the Calling, whatever it was, and Zevran was certain that it had something to do with Zeva's current condition.
"I will be fine, Zevran," Zeva said, smiling weakly at him. "I just need some decent sleep. Duncan explained that the nightmares would get stronger as we ventured closer to the darkspawn, but I never dreamed they would get this bad."
"And still he continues pulling you deeper," Zevran spat, throwing a deadly glance over his shoulder at the Warden Commander. "I would see you gone from here, my beautiful Zeva, before you get even sicker."
Zeva placed a hand on his arm to calm him. "We will be gone soon enough. I am sure of it," she said quietly. "Until then, I ask that you refrain from fighting with Duncan. It only makes things harder on me to see you both so angry."
"As you desire, my Warden," the elf whispered. "Do not expect me to like it, however." Silence once more fell over the group as they approached the filthy dwarf.
"Go away!" he yelled. "The shinies are all mine! You will not take them!"
"Zeva," Duncan said quietly, moving to her side, "do you really think we will get anything useful from him?"
She shrugged and moved slowly toward the dwarf. "I do not want to take your belongings," she said cautiously. "I promise you. I only wish to ask you some questions."
"You won't take Ruck's pretties?" he asked, and Zeva's eyebrows shot up. She glanced at Zevran and they shared a silent acknowledgement. This was the dwarf whose mother was praying for him at the shine in Orzammar. She told them that he was lost in the Deep Roads while on an excursion. Zeva's heart had broken for the distraught woman and she had promised to search for any signs of him during their journey.
"Of course not, Ruck, though I may want to trade with you, if you have anything I need," she said sweetly, trying her best to keep him calm.
His face lit up in a semblance of a smile. "Pretty lady can trade with Ruck," he said brightly. "Ruck would like that."
"I see signs of Branka all over this place," Oghren said, walking around the cavern and examining various markings on the ground. "She is definitely gone now, though. She would never let something like that," he said and motioned toward Ruck, "sleep in the same area as she did."
"Interesting that you would say that," Zeva replied, glaring at him furiously, "as she obviously felt the same way about you."
Zevran smiled broadly at the look of shock on the dwarf's face. He turned back to Ruck, concluding their exchange. The party continued on, Zeva having agreed to tell Ruck's mother that he died heroically in the Deep Roads…
o~~~~~~~~o
"Come in," Bann Teagan called when he heard the soft knocking on Fergus' bedroom door. The two men were enjoying a game of cards in front of the open window. Fergus was feeling much stronger, though he was still being kept in bed for a great deal of the day. Kinnon did not wish him to overexert himself by traipsing around the castle.
"Excuse the interruption, Bann Teagan," Ser Perth said as he entered the bedroom, bowing slightly at the two men. "Our scouts just reported that a group is approaching the city gates. It appears as though the Wardens have returned."
"Maker be praised!" Teagan exclaimed, rising quickly from his seat. "I should go and meet them at once!" He paused at the look of sorrow on the knight's face. "What is wrong, Perth?"
Sighing deeply, Ser Perth turned an apologetic gaze on Fergus. "From the information we received, neither the Lady Zeva nor the Warden Commander is among them."
"What?" Fergus said, his voice filled with anxiety. "Zeva isn't with them? Teagan, I must go with you!"
"I don't think that would be a good idea, Fergus," Teagan replied gently. "You know you aren't strong enough yet. Let me greet the party and I will bring them back to you."
"Dammit, Teagan!" Fergus cried, rising from his chair. "I cannot just sit idly by when something may have happened to my sister!"
"We don't know that anything has happened," the Bann explained, placing a hand on the Teyrn's arm. "This would not be the first time that Zeva and her companions split up to complete different missions. She has a monumental task ahead of her, and very little time to do it. Though," he added, gazing pointedly at Fergus, "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that the Warden Commander would keep her from returning here. After all, it is far easier to control her if she is kept from those who love her most."
"If that is the case," Fergus said, a rush of fury crossing his features, "he will answer to me." Teagan couldn't help but smile at his friend's passionate reaction. Enjoy your triumph while you can, Duncan, he thought angrily. It will not last.
Nodding slowly, he moved toward the door. "Stay here, Fergus," he said quietly. "I will return shortly." With that, he and Perth exited the room.
For the next several minutes, Fergus restlessly paced the room. Finally, he approached the mage who was seated before the fireplace, reading an ancient tome. "Kinnon," he said firmly, drawing the healer's attention, "cast whatever spells you need to, but I am leaving this room NOW! I have to know what has become of Zeva!"
Smiling, Kinnon rose from his chair. "Somehow, Teyrn Cousland, I knew you would feel that way," he said softly. "Now, sit down while I get my staff and your clothes."
o~~~~~~~~o
"Alistair, it is wonderful to see you!" Teagan exclaimed as he approached the party, firmly clasping the Warden's hand in his own. The Bann examined the group before him, his eyes widening slightly as he saw Morrigan among them. He was certain that she would stay with Zeva if at all possible.
As they walked toward the castle, Alistair told Teagan about the journey to Haven, and about the ancient temple they had traversed to claim the Ashes that were now tucked safely in his pack. He left out the details of the Gauntlet. He was sure that Zeva would not want the Bann to know such intimate information. He was still angry at Teagan for the behavior he had exhibited toward his fellow Wardens the night before they left Redcliffe; but he put his own feelings aside, knowing that Eamon was the most critical concern.
The castle doors were thrown open before them as they climbed the steps and a man Alistair didn't recognize stepped out; his face gaunt and his eyes wide with worry. "Where is my sister?" he exclaimed, stepping forward to confront the group. "Has something happened to her? I swear by Andraste, if your Warden Commander has allowed her to come to harm…"
"I'm sorry," Alistair said, staring at the stranger in disbelief. "I'm afraid I don't know who you are talking about. Your sister?"
"Fergus, calm down," Teagan said, and Alistair's eyes widened as he recognized the name. "Zeva took a group to Orzammar to gather the support of the dwarves. I told you their party has been split before. She will be returning here soon, I am sure."
Smiling broadly, Alistair approached Fergus, bowing to him respectfully. "Teyrn Cousland, my name is Alistair and I am a Grey Warden with your sister," he said. "She is fine, I assure you. She knew how important it was that Arl Eamon receive Andraste's Ashes, and so she sent me back with them. She then continued on to Orzammar to seek the aid of the dwarven kingdom against the Blight. She is in the company of several of our companions, the Warden Commander included."
"I… I'm sorry for my inappropriate greeting," Fergus said, shaking his head slowly. "It's just that I have been beside myself with worry about Zeva, and when I heard you had returned without her, I feared the worst." Stepping forward, he offered Alistair his hand and the two men clasped forearms in greeting. "I thank you for explaining the situation to me. If you wouldn't mind, I would like to hear more of my sister's mission for the Wardens."
"Perth," Teagan called as they entered the main hall, "please ask Kinnon to join us. As the Ashes have now arrived, he will need to prepare them for use on Eamon. Also, let Arlessa Isolde know that Alistair and his companions have returned."
"Of course, Bann Teagan," Ser Perth said before turning and exiting the hall.
"Fergus," Teagan scolded, turning back to his friend, "you shouldn't even be out of bed. Zeva would never forgive me if I allowed you to injure yourself further. Let's get you to Eamon's study. Alistair and his companions can answer all of your questions there."
The men turned toward Leliana, who was laughing aloud. "Believe him on this one, Teyrn Cousland," she said merrily. "As I am sure you are aware, Zeva is not a person you want to cross; especially when it comes to those she loves."
"I see you do know my Zee Zee, Miss," Fergus said, smiling warmly at her. "Fine, Teagan, I will follow your lead. I shall not be the one responsible for bringing my sister's wrath down on the Guerrins." Alistair and Teagan each took an arm and helped the Teyrn down the hall, placing him on Eamon's plush sofa. As they waited for food and drinks from the kitchen, Alistair began answering Fergus' many questions.
o~~~~~~~~o
"Maker," Wynne said as they stepped to the edge of the chasm and looked down. The ground below them glowed with the light of a thousand torches; the darkspawn horde gathered together to worship their dark lord. In that moment, the companions realized the true enormity of the enemy they faced.
"Duncan," Zeva said, gazing over at her commander, "do you hear that sound? It's like someone is singing. So beautiful…"
His eyes widening in alarm, Duncan grabbed Zeva's arms, pulling her behind a nearby copse of rocks. "Down!" he called to the party. Immediately the others ducked behind nearby pillars, their mouths dropping open as an enormous high dragon flew over their heads; coming to rest on the ledge on the opposite side of the chasm. It was covered in thick, armored plates, with dagger-like spikes protruding from its body; providing it with near impenetrable protection.
"Zeva?" Wynne asked cautiously. The young Warden had moved from Duncan's side and was slowly inching closer to the precipice, the torchlight reflecting off her face. She wore a peculiar smile, and seemed to be transfixed by the being before her. "Duncan, watch her!" the mage called as Zeva took another tentative step toward the dragon.
Before Duncan could react, Zevran grabbed Zeva about the waist, pulling her away from the pit below. "Zeva!" he cried, turning her toward him; the terror rising into his eyes as he saw the dream-like expression on her face.
"Can't you hear it, Zevran?" she asked, her voice whisper-soft. "It's beautiful. I think it wants me to come closer." She tried to pull away from him and move back toward the nearby bridge. "I need to go…"
Across the gorge, the Archdemon roared at its followers and took off, flying through an opening in the caverns above. Below it, the screams of the departing darkspawn could be heard as they responded to the call of their god.
Closing his eyes, not wanting to see what he was about to do, Zevran drew his hand back and slapped Zeva as hard as he could. Her head snapped back and blood flew from her bottom lip.
"You bastard!" Duncan yelled, shoving the elf away from his lover and pulling her to him. "Zeva, are you alright?" he asked frantically, tilting her head up to examine the wound. Her lip was cut and she had a large bruise forming on her left cheekbone. Her eyes, however, had regained some of their light.
"Duncan?" she asked, confusion apparent in her expression. "What happened? Where are we?" She licked her lips and tasted the blood that was dripping from her mouth. Tentatively she reached up, running her fingers over her chin. "Ouch!" she cried, jumping slightly. "I don't think I want to know what I did to deserve that."
Wynne stepped forward, placing a hand on Zeva's shoulder. "Are you quite alright, dear?" she asked softly. "You aren't hearing anything strange?"
"Strange?" she asked, shaking her head slowly. "No, not really. My ears are ringing a bit, but I imagine that goes with the sore lip and aching cheek."
"I must apologize for that, my darling Zeva," Zevran said, stepping up and taking her hand, lightly kissing her knuckles. "You weren't quite yourself, and I was more concerned about your life than your beautiful face."
"Good thing one of you was," Oghren said, glaring at Duncan. "Now, can we please get moving? I would like to find Branka before I grow old and die." Turning away, he led them across the bridge, into the heart of the Dead Trenches.
o~~~~~~~~o
Kinnon stepped into the study, interrupting Alistair's story about he and Zeva's adventure in the Wilds near Ostagar. Teagan looked up, his expression hopeful. "Are the Ashes ready, Kinnon?" he asked softly.
"Yes, Bann Teagan," he replied. "I assume you would like to be present when I use them on the Arl?"
"Of course," Teagan said, rising from his chair. "Alistair, could you please help me get Fergus upstairs? I would like him to be there, as well." Alistair nodded silently. He knew how nervous the Bann was and assumed that he wanted Teyrn Cousland nearby, should the worst occur.
The three men entered Arl Eamon's room, and Fergus was placed in a nearby chair. Isolde was kneeling by her husband's side, quietly sending thanks to Andraste for bestowing the gift of her Ashes onto them.
Kinnon moved to the foot of the Arl's bed and sprinkled the Ashes over his body. He quietly recited a spell, infusing the Ashes with his own power. The room was silent, save for the sound of the mage's voice; all eyes locked on the unmoving form in the bed.
Finally, after several minutes of waiting, Eamon began to move upon the bed. His legs were first, followed by his arms. Teagan gasped, unsure what the activity meant. Was his brother actually returning to them, or were these simply the final death throes of a lost soul?
Slowly, Eamon's eyes opened and he looked about the room, confusion evident on his face. "Isolde," he called, his voice barely a whisper.
"I am here, my husband," she replied, grasping his hand as tears streamed down her face.
"Eamon!" Teagan cried, moving toward the bed. "I cannot tell you how wonderful it is to have you back with us."
The prone man attempted to rise, but his muscles refused to work. "It will take a while for you to regain full control over your muscles, Arl Eamon," Kinnon said, passing his hands over the man's unmoving legs. "You have been incapacitated for quite some time, and that has taken a great toll on your body. With the proper healing care and exercise, you should be back to your original physical condition in no time at all."
"Thank you again, Kinnon, for all of the aid you have provided to my family," Teagan said, ushering the mage toward the bedroom door. "I am afraid I must ask you to wait in the study for a while, as Alistair, Fergus and I have much to tell my brother. Please take Arlessa Isolde with you."
"Teagan," Isolde complained, "I don't think it is necessary that I…"
The Bann turned a furious glare toward his sister-in-law. "You will leave now, Isolde," he said firmly. "I would have Eamon learn the complete truth about what has occurred here; not the edited version I am sure you would provide. Your lies nearly ruined this entire family, and you will answer for that."
"Teagan…" she began pleadingly.
"Now, Isolde," Teagan said, and his voice carried a dangerous edge. Without another word, the Arlessa dropped her head and left the room, tears flowing from her eyes.
Alistair shook his head sadly at the look of shock on Eamon's face. "Teagan," the Arl began quietly, "what has happened?"
"I am sorry to place all of this on you, as you just returned to us," he said, pulling a chair up next to the bed. "Unfortunately, we may not have the luxury of time. There is much you need to know, and some of it will be difficult to hear. Know that Fergus, Alistair, and I will all be here to help you through it."
Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Teagan placed a hand on Eamon's shoulder and began to explain the events that had transpired since his captivity in the Fade.
o~~~~~~~~o
"I don't understand, Duncan," Zeva said as they travelled over the bridge. "How is it that I could hear the song of the Archdemon and yet you couldn't?" Her companions had explained Zeva's behavior to her, and she had been shocked to discover that she was entranced by the dragon. Upon hearing of Zevran's rescue, she had approached him and thrown her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. Duncan had looked away, not wishing to see the look of triumph in the elf's eyes as he returned her embrace. As quickly as the hug began, however, it was over; and Zeva once again returned to his side. She smiled up at him and his heart nearly burst from the love he saw in her eyes.
"I think it is a result of how long I have been a Warden," he replied, glancing cautiously around them. "You are new to the Order, and you joined during a Blight. These two things will make you far more susceptible to the Archdemon."
"Oh, joy," Zeva remarked sardonically. "I simply adore being special."
Far in the distance, the party could see a group of dwarves battling some darkspawn. Their fighting style was beyond impressive; each dwarf throwing himself at his nearest opponent, with no regard to his own safety. They only had a moment to admire the strangers before Oghren turned to her, a wicked smile on his face.
"Well, let's not let them have all the fun," Oghren said, pulling his greataxe from the sheath on his back and rushing toward the fray; his battle cries filling the air. Zeva had never fought alongside a Berserker before, and she was fascinated by the dwarf's ability to transform so quickly from a jovial trickster to a ravenous killing machine.
The group of tattooed dwarves held a firm line at the end of a large, crumbling bridge. Duncan, having sensed that a much larger group of darkspawn awaited at the other end, led his companions over the ancient structure; fighting waves of hurlocks and genlocks along the way.
He stopped short as they neared the end of the bridge. Before them, in an orderly formation, was a group of genlock archers; framing a very large, angry ogre.
"Zevran, Zeva," Duncan began, turning toward the party. "I will leave the archers to the two of you. Wynne, Oghren, you are with me. Wynne, throw everything you have at that ogre. Freeze it, burn it, electrify it; just keep it occupied. Oghren, you go for the legs. Bring that bastard to the ground and I will do the rest."
"So nice of them to line up for us like this; wouldn't you agree, my lovely Warden?" Zevran joked as they charged toward the archers, Nihlus at their heels.
Laughing, Zeva spun her blades in her hands. "Well, darkspawn are nothing if not polite," she replied wryly.
Nihlus followed his mistress; flinging himself at the genlocks to disable them. Zeva followed, deftly removing various limbs from the fallen opponents. The duo raced to Zevran's side to help him finish off the last of his enemies, before turning their attention to the battle in the center of the cavern.
The ogre was frozen in place, its body jerking spasmodically as jolts of electricity passed through it. Oghren was furiously chopping at its massive legs, and Zeva could clearly see bone and flesh flying into the air.
Time seemed to slow to a crawl as the giant tipped backward; its balance thrown off by the loss of its left foot. Duncan leapt onto its chest, his daggers pointed at the beast's eyes. His weapons found their targets as the ogre fell to the ground, blindly clawing at the Warden Commander in an effort to toss him away. With a final twist of his arms, Duncan pierced the monster's brain and its ferocious struggling ceased.
Jumping from the ogre's chest, Duncan turned quickly, looking for Zeva amidst the darkspawn corpses. He sighed in relief as she returned to his side, holstering her daggers onto her back. "So, Commander," she said softly, gazing up at him, "should be check on the dwarven guards before we progress?"
"No need," Oghren said, motioning toward the bridge. "It looks like they are coming to check on us."
The party moved forward, stopping in front of the presumed leader of the group. His face was the only one uncovered; he wore a deep auburn beard, with geometrical tattoos over his forehead and eyes. He studied the companions carefully, his gaze lingering on Duncan and Zeva.
"Greetings, Wardens," he said, his voice gruff. "I am Kardol of the Legion of the Dead. You have shown great strength by cutting a line through the darkspawn and destroying their ogre. However, I must admit to being curious as to your mission here."
Turning toward Duncan, he raised his eyebrow. "You, I could understand," he said calmly, and Zeva could see the muscle in Duncan's lower jaw clench as he ground his teeth. "But this other Warden? Isn't she a bit young for her Calling?"
Zevran's eyes widened at the mention of the Calling. Now we will learn the truth, he thought smugly, crossing his arms over his chest.
Zeva opened her mouth to ask what he was talking about, but Duncan interrupted her. "Actually," he began determinedly, "we are looking for the Paragon Branka. I don't suppose you have seen her?"
"Ha!" Kardol barked, laughing heartily. "You may as well kill the Archdemon while you are down here if that is your mission. There are no Paragons here, Warden. All you will find are darkspawn and death."
"Then we had best get moving," Duncan said, glancing sidelong at Zevran. He was suddenly anxious to be gone from this place. He had seen the victorious look on the elf's face when the Calling was mentioned. What does he know? he wondered nervously. Surely, if he had full knowledge of the subject, he would have shared it with Zeva by now; if only to undermine Duncan's relationship with her. It looked as though the time was fast approaching when he would have to be honest with Zeva about her future. The thought of it turned his stomach, but he knew it was far better that he told her than to have her learn it from someone else.
"Best of luck to you, Wardens," Kardol said, motioning for his men to follow him to the bridge. "A word of warning," he added, his eyes focusing on Zeva. "Drunks make poor allies."
"Well," Zeva said as they entered yet another darkened passage, "you make friends wherever you go; don't you, Oghren?"
Laughing, the dwarf took a swig of the foul brew he was so fond of. "That's me," he replied jovially. "I'm sure it's due to my charming personality."
"Duncan," Zeva began quietly as they processed down the tunnel, "what did that dwarf mean when he said I was young for my Calling?"
"Yes, Warden Commander," Zevran added, staring pointedly at Duncan. "I found that comment rather odd, myself. Is this Calling something important; perhaps something that Zeva should know about?" Duncan met his gaze, the anger smoldering in his eyes.
Turning to Zeva, he took her hand in his. "It is Warden business, Zeva," he said bluntly. "I will tell you all about it once we have a chance to be alone. For now, believe me when I say that it isn't anything you need to worry about."
"Funny," she said as she gazed into his eyes. "I would never have thought to worry until now." Turning away, she moved further down the passageway, joining Wynne and Oghren in their most recent debate as to whether ale or wine was the best alcoholic drink.
"You are lying to her, Duncan," Zevran said quietly as he moved to stand before the Rivaini. "I know you are and you do, as well. She will find out about your 'dirty little Warden secret'; and when she does, I pray that she is able to handle it. For if you hurt her in any way with your lies, I will finish you." Without another word, Zevran walked away; leaving Duncan alone to decide how to tell Zeva about the Calling without breaking her heart.
o~~~~~~~~o
Rendon Howe stepped through the doors into the throne room of the royal palace in Denerim. He hated being there. Each moment he was away from his own estate was a moment not spent preparing for the arrival of his bride.
Not that he had high hopes of seeing Zeva anytime soon. None of the soldiers he sent to retrieve her had returned alive. A search party had been dispatched; returning with the bodies of his fallen men. It was obvious to him that the Warden Commander, the Antivan assassin, or both, were conspiring to keep his betrothed from him.
To make matters worse, he was being forced to bow to the demands of Ferelden's new regent. As the Arl of Denerim, it fell to Howe to insure that Loghain's armies were continuing their campaign against the rebellious nobles who were opposed to his reign. What started out as a small band of unhappy nobles had quickly grown into a group large enough to challenge the regent for his position. With the battle against the darkspawn on the horizon, Ferelden could ill afford to manage a civil war, as well.
Loghain sat on the throne, looking deeply fatigued. The constant fighting was taking its toll on the warrior, and he seemed a bit more defeated each time Howe approached him. No wonder the bastard wants my Zeva, he thought furiously. He needs someone of her skills to help him control the blasted rebels at his door. Well, he can go to the Maker! He will never have my beloved; not while I still draw breath!
"Sire," Howe said respectfully, bowing slightly as he approached the throne, "I have more news regarding the burgeoning civil conflict." When the regent didn't respond, he cleared his throat and continued. "The fighting has gone exactly as you…"
"Stop!" Anora interrupted, stepping forward to address her father. "I simply cannot understand what you hope to accomplish with these attacks. Should we not be fighting the darkspawn instead of each other?"
"Anora," Loghain began, and Howe could see the frustration in his eyes. "We will bring the nobles back in line and then turn our attention to the darkspawn. It's not as if we are dealing with a true Blight, after all. It was simply Cailan's own vanity and delusions of grandeur that demanded it be so."
Howe cleared his throat once again, drawing the attention of both father and daughter. "While this may not be a true Blight, there is still a possibility that we will not have enough men to properly defend Ferelden against the darkspawn horde," he explained.
"Cailan had entered into negotiations with Orlais for their help before…" Anora offered, but stopped when Loghain rose in his chair; a furious expression on his face.
"Maric and I drove those bastards out of Ferelden!" he yelled, slamming his hand on the throne. "I will not allow then to return now, only to attempt another occupation the first moment we turn our backs!"
"Father," Anora said calmly, "we need help. We cannot meet this threat on our own."
"Ferelden will face this crisis on its own, Anora!" Loghain exclaimed, throwing his arms up in frustration. "You must have faith in me."
Shaking her head, the young queen gazed steadily into her father's eyes. "Did you kill Cailan?"
Loghain sighed, sitting back in his chair before answering. "Cailan's death was his own doing, Anora," he said quietly. "No one else's."
The room was silent for several moments as Loghain stared as his daughter, waiting for her to respond. With a slight shake of her head, she turned and stormed out of the room.
"You know, Sire," Howe began cautiously, "your daughter, though an able ruler, may cause some difficulties for you in the very near future. Her desire to ally with Orlais is… problematic."
"I agree," Loghain said, glancing at the paintings on the wall. "For now, let me try to reason with her. I am still her father, after all."
"Of course, Sire," Howe conceded. "If we are done here, I need to return to my estate. I have some renovations to complete."
Waving his hand dismissively, Loghain nodded toward the Arl. "Yes, yes…" he said. "You may go. I would like you to return in the morning to discuss the 'noble situation' in more detail. Could you please send Ser Cauthrien in on your way out?"
Bowing deeply, Howe turned and left the room. A few moments later, Ser Cauthrien entered. She was a tall woman, with shoulder-length ebony hair and deep hazel eyes. She had helped Loghain defeat a group of bandits as a young girl on her father's farm. He admired her abilities and took her as a member of his army. Through hard work and determination, she had risen to her current position as Loghain's most trusted lieutenant.
"Arl Howe said you wished to see me, Sire?" she asked, standing at attention before him.
"Yes, Cauthrien," Loghain replied, rising from his chair and closing the throne room door. "I have a special mission for you and it must be kept quiet. There are too many in this castle who would leak this information to the wrong parties."
"Of course, Sire," she said, clasping her hands behind her back. "What would you have me do?"
Sighing heavily, Loghain strolled to the far side of the room, gazing up at the detailed tapestries that hung high on the walls. "Arl Howe has been making several changes to his estate recently," he said casually. "My informants tell me that he is expecting a visitor soon; one that you and I are quite familiar with."
"Sire?" Cauthrien asked, searching her memory for the correct individual.
"No need to strain yourself, Cauthrien," he said, ignoring the embarrassed blush that crept over her cheeks. "I am referring to Lady Zeva Cousland, the Grey Warden we met at Ostagar."
"Ahh, yes," the lieutenant replied, nodding slowly. "You told me of Howe's obsession with her. Though I find the entire situation repulsive, I still do not understand what you wish of me."
Loghain returned to his throne and sat down. "The fact that he is moving forward with his plans indicates that he may have an idea where she can be found," he stated. "It is imperative that we find her first."
"Of course, Sire," Cauthrien said, bowing to him. "I will make it my top priority. If I may, Sire, can I ask why you are interested in Zeva Cousland?"
"It's quite simple, Lieutenant," he explained. "Our country is in turmoil, and we need every advantage if we are to succeed in uniting it against the darkspawn. I knew Bryce Cousland and he was a brilliant strategist. I didn't have to know his daughter for long to recognize that same talent in her. I know what Rendon Howe wants with her, and I refuse to allow it to happen. It would be a complete waste of her abilities. She will make a wonderful ally, if we are able to convince her to see things our way. So, your job is to bring her to me. I will do the rest."
"Yes, Sire," Cauthrien said, quickly turning and exiting the throne room. Loghain was obviously quite impressed with the young Warden, and Cauthrien did not want him to see the anger and jealousy in her eyes.
Loghain sat in the empty room, his thoughts in turmoil. His beloved Ferelden was under siege, and if he hoped to save it, he would need every advantage. Zeva Cousland was that advantage, and he would be damned if he would allow Rendon Howe to destroy her.