"Don't let the fool incite your anger." Morrigan's voice rose over the sound of Caoilainn beating a wooden sword against a pell. The Queen hit the worn post again, growling as the mock blade impacted.
"Not… tell… me…. about...Weisshaupt." She muttered between swings; her energy exerted with each hit. "Not... even... tell me... about... the meeting." Sweat dripped from Caoilainn's forehead, her hair stuck to her neck. Stopping to catch her breath, she faced Morrigan. "I rebuilt the Fereldan order!"
"You cling so tightly to a role that is no longer yours." Morrigan crossed her arms.
Caoilainn's face grew hot, embarrassed by the circumstances created by her foolish choices, trusting Alistair and abandoning the Wardens; the conflict awakened yearning for the unconditional love from her army.
"He waited until I left them to decide he couldn't forgive me. They were like my children, Morrigan. He knew." The arm holding the wooden sword hung limp at Caoilainn's side.
Shaking her head as she stepped nearer, Morrigan's words did not indulge in Caoilainn's reactivity. "You're as infantile as your husband. Should you continue to allow the symptoms of his pain afflict your well-being, you put your legitimate offspring at risk." The witch nodded, her eyes glancing toward Caoilainn's waist.
"Morrigan!" Caoilainn's aggravation resurfaced, she hushed Morrigan and her eyes darted toward the doorway, making sure unwelcome ears overheard the comment. "Please," she hissed, "don't say such things."
"Don't act like a child and I will have no reason to." Morrigan glared and Caoilainn stared back, mouth gaping, her chest puffed in defense. The reaction satisfied the witch, and her expression softened. "The necessity of your presence at the meeting is recognized… by all."
"Really?" Face bunching in confusion, the defensive lift of Caoilainn's chest fell. Simultaneously shocked, gratified, and irritated Alistair would include her; she managed a simple question for clarity. "He asked for me?"
"Does it matter?" The subtle roll of Morrigan's eyes suggested her growing annoyance, dislike in Caoilainn seeking unnecessary details. Caoilainn narrowed her gaze and only nodded her head. Morrigan sighed, "Not in so many words, but yes."
"Then he can ask me himself." The words fell from Caoilainn's mouth before she could filter them. She knew Morrigan would not hesitate to label the juvenile response.
"Would you rather not attend?" Morrigan shirked one shoulder, tilting her head to the side.
"Fine," Caoilainn sighed, agreeing to join after she trained.
Bathing after the army's practice and honing more focus today than she had in weeks, Caoilainn ventured downstairs for the summit. Dreading the idea of being in the same room as Alistair and Nathaniel without the security of her position as Warden Commander, she prepared for the impending disaster. Each step closer, her chest grew heavy with anxiety, tightness causing shallow breaths.
Then she saw Alistair standing near the doorway, presumably waiting for her arrival. It forced her to stop. Steeling herself and steadying her breathing, she remembered Morrigan's words about stress upon the child. Caoilainn's hand involuntarily pressed to her belly.
Damn it, she cursed herself, extending her hand to her side before Alistair noticed.
"'Tis not something you can hide forever." Morrigan walked from a neighboring room to Caoilainn's side.
"I know," Caoilainn snapped, brushing down the fabric of her gambeson. She glanced to Alistair, displaying the notorious signs of his own nerves. The King paced the hallway, crossing and uncrossing his arms.
"Thank you," Alistair muttered to no one in particular as Caoilainn and Morrigan joined him at the door to the assembly.
Unable to resist the passive aggressive opportunity, Caoilainn avoided Alistair's eyes, instead looking at the door to the assembly. Alistair made no statements or sounds to show he noticed. Rather, he entered the meeting room first.
Having not seen Nathaniel or Philippa since she stepped down as Commander of the Grey, Caoilainn prepared herself for the emotions it might bring up. She followed with Morrigan beside, crossing the threshold into the occupied room. Her gaze set forward, determined to prevent Alistair from interpreting evidence of deceit if she looked at Nate.
Philippa's critical stare interrupted Caoilainn's determination. She noticed the sorceress scanning her frame and glancing to Morrigan with raised eyebrows. Morrigan's subtle nod made Caoilainn blush. Is it that obvious?
The Queen took her seat to the right of the King. The mage, Fiona, sat across from her. Feeling eyes upon her, Caoilainn glanced at the woman, but Fiona looked away before their eyes met.
Despite the unexpected guests, the meeting larger than originally planned, Alistair stared down the table at Nathaniel Howe. Bitter anger and vindictive thoughts raced through his mind, validating all the reasons he had to hate the man. Alistair did not gaze at Caoilainn. The fear he would find her watching Howe only surpassed by fear Alistair would find her looking through his intimidating facade to see his insecurity. Sweat dampened the base of Alistair's neck; his collar seemed tighter than usual, strangling him as he tried to hide his nerves and start the meeting.
"Shall we begin?" The King posed the question to the entire group.
A few of the mages gave timid nods, and Nathaniel kept his gaze at the wall. Peeling his eyes away from his opponent, Alistair faced Fiona, seated to his left. He made a tight-lipped smile. "Your arrival was unexpected, but I'm glad you could join us. I hope the guards weren't too horrible when you got here."
The mage shook her head. "Not at all, your Majesty. Apparently, I had already been approved to enter the palace."
Alistair nodded. Recalling Fiona's refusal for anything resembling amnesty for her crimes in Redcliff, he did not offer further explanation. He had added her name to the list of intended attendees before realizing the challenges with reaching the woman.
"And yourself, Hawke." Alistair tipped his head toward the man. "It's been quite a while since I last saw you."
"It has, and I am thrilled to be here." The mage answered with sardonic excitement. "This is just how I love to spend my evenings, discussing sick and missing Grey Wardens in royal assemblies."
"Then you're in the right place, it seems." With a weak chuckle, Alistair returned his attention to the rest of the room. "Now that we're all here, where do we begin?"
The attendees remained quiet, none offering an immediate response to the King's question. An uneasy weight hung over the table. The group waited for someone to speak, passing uncomfortable glances around the room.
"Ooh, this is fun." A jovial voice broke the silence. Hawke propped his elbows on the table and leaned in. He sat on Morrigan's other side. "We're playing a game, aren't we? Who can make this meeting more awkward, right? Goodness, I hope I'm winning."
Morrigan snorted and mirrored his thoughts. "I suspect it's a test of our skill at accomplishing nothing."
Ignoring them both, Alistair clarified, "We're here to discuss whatever ails the Wardens, aren't we? Perhaps you should brief us on the status of your soldiers, Nathaniel?" He casually stated the Commander's first name, but referring to the Wardens as Howe's would make a deeper jab at Caoilainn. Nathaniel had avoided looking at anyone for the entire meeting, but his gaze flinched to Caoilainn at the remark.
The King's knee bounced under the table; the repetitive movement joined a spark of anger. Don't even dare, lying snake. Hand flexing, spreading wide and coming to the flat surface, Alistair caught himself before slamming his palm against the wood and instead let it land softly. The concern the attendees had noticed was quickly relieved. Caoilainn put her hand over his; her fingers curled around the edge of Alistair's palm. He allowed it, moving with her lead so the two held hands on the tabletop. Her digits gave a gentle squeeze, and Alistair glanced to his side. Caoilainn stared back with wide and loving eyes.
Nathaniel cleared his throat and explained, glancing around the room as he talked. "Of course, your majesty. Our numbers have depleted. Nightmares haunt Wardens by no identifiable pattern. We've sedated those who are suffering, using magic to prevent the affliction. We've yet to see what happens to a Warden who is left to endure the illness."
"Apparently they vanish," Alistair made a cynical conclusion, associating Nathaniel's report to the status of Weisshaupt. "What evidence do you have this is connected with Caoilainn and I's cure?" The secure room promised only visitor's privy to the information were present.
"Timing," Nathaniel responded quickly. "When you left the bond, we felt the impact."
"I don't take you for a fool, your majesty." Philippa interjected, and Morrigan scoffed at the woman's comment. "You were a Warden long enough to know the depth of the bond."
Was I? Alistair pondered in spite, the thought teasing at the back of his mind. He took his hand from Caoilainn's and laced his fingers, resting on the table. "I would assume this would impact those who had been in the order longest." His head nodded toward Nathaniel as Alistair looked at Philippa. "And as we can see, that is not the case."
Nathaniel muffled an embittered chuckle with his hand, but did not respond to the remark.
"It's got to be Fade demons," Hawke added, stroking his beard. "If it's nightmares, there must be a demon or demons catching Wardens in their sleep."
"Not necessarily." Keeping her back against her chair instead of leaning into the conversation, Caoilainn mumbled. Her voice grew louder as she realized the group was listening. "I had nightmares. Before the cure. Blackness… it was maddening."
"Yes, dear, but that was due to red lyrium." Philippa shook her head.
"Fade demons are not out of the question," Fiona spoke up, her eyes lingering on Caoilainn before glancing around the room. "But that would indicate a significant problem, many demons or an extremely powerful one randomly targeting Wardens."
"We need to go to the source," Morrigan declared, the irritation in her voice apparent.
"What do you mean?" Wrinkling his brow, Alistair turned his head side to side, unsure what Morrigan's declaration referenced.
The witch rolled her eyes and scoffed. "'Tis obvious. Something is culling your Wardens, and their home base is empty. That is the nest of your precious bond, is it not?" She twirled her hand toward Nathaniel.
"In case you forgot, I recently returned from Weisshaupt." Waving his hand to interrupt Morrigan's communication with Nathaniel, Hawke added, "A lovely holiday, really. A month of travel, a deserted fortress, all the way back home to Ferelden."
Nathaniel shook his head. "Apparently, there was nothing there but a letter from the First Warden. It had been abandoned by its unnamed recipient. They felt what I can only assume was their majesties' separation, and then the nightmares. They left the base to look for someone or something."
"Who or what?" Alistair questioned.
"It was unclear." The Warden Commander shirked his shoulders.
"That must be what the Orlesian Wardens were after when they left Weisshaupt. At least what was left of them." The Champion added a surprised observation.
"What will traveling to Weisshaupt achieve, Morrigan? Shouldn't we follow the path of the Orlesians?" Sighing, Alistair made more inquiries to the witch, expecting her curtness as response.
But before Morrigan could speak, Caoilainn's low voice resonated, "To find the source." The room grew silent. "Weisshaupt is our… the Wardens' homestead. The bond starts there."
Nodding, Fiona mirrored Caoilainn's observation. "The bond is strongest at its base, so the break in the bond must originate and be cured from the source. Someone will need to go who knows what to look for."
"I'll go," Nathaniel blurted, spreading his hands flat on the table.
"My dear Warden Commander," Philippa gave her leader an endearing smile and tutted him. "You certainly don't suspect you know how to locate and mend the bond without our help, do you?"
The revelation sparked a hurried conversation. Philippa and Fiona explained what they discovered in text. Volumes of information failed to clarify the problem that occurred, but hinted at possibilities based on studies of the bond, expounding the notion of the connection living in Weisshaupt. The undeniable risk of Fade demons complicated measures. Entering the Fade with the Wardens impacted in Ferelden had been unsuccessful in identifying the cause. The sorceresses concluded physical distance from the homestead as the reason.
The meeting stretched on, details of the need to visit Weisshaupt clarified in more detail. Members of the assembly contributed to the plans, deciding to leave from Denerim and return to Vigil's Keep within a few days before beginning the trek to the Anderfels. The mages and Nathaniel determined a route; Alistair and Caoilainn stayed silent as the plans finalized.
With a contemplative frown, Fiona added, glancing toward Philippa, "We need to find out what the other Grey Wardens were looking for."
Garrett Hawke mocked the intense conversation with a sarcastic grin. Winking, he pointed his thumb to the head of the table and spoke through the side of his mouth. "We should bring those who've been cured, don't you agree? Since this whole thing is their fault and all."
None responded. Alistair and Caoilainn shifted in their seats, glancing at one another. Fiona stared in her lap.
"It's all our faults," Philippa met the eyes of the other sorceresses. "But bringing their majesties is pertinent."
Caoilainn flinched as if startled. The movement joined Morrigan shaking her head with a side-eyed glance at the Queen. Alistair assumed Morrigan elbowed Caoilainn. That's unusual.
Though Alistair loathed the thought of traveling with Nathaniel and his company, the idea of Caoilainn going without him was not a question. He nodded to the entire table. "We'll both go."
"I can't…" Caoilainn quickly retorted. A moment later she added, "I can't leave… the Royal Army."
Cocking a brow, Alistair stared at Caoilainn, genuinely confused by her resistance. "You know Lord Baldric will take care of them, and Knight Adalyn can lead them herself." His advisor had acted as the leader of the army before Caoilainn took position as commander.
Eyes darting around the room before focusing on Alistair, Caoilainn lowered her voice and leaned in, keeping their conversation as private as possible. "I'm sure the kingdom would think poorly of both their King and Queen leaving for the Anderfels when we only returned from Skyhold earlier this year."
What is going on? He squinted and shook his head. "Teagan will watch over everything while we're gone." Alistair whispered, "I will not suffer through a trip like this with Nathaniel Howe without you. We were both cured; we should both go."
"Well, I can't," she hissed, leaning back in her chair.
Caoilainn's statement was final, intending to end the discussion. He met a wall, another secret. Certain her resistance related to Nathaniel, frustration revived his anger. She doesn't have the courage to travel with both of us. More lies, Caoilainn? Already annoyed with the circumstances of this new obligation, made worse by her refusal to join them, he pushed for more information, ignoring the other meeting attendees who watched the uncomfortable dialogue at one end of the table. "Give me a reason. Why not?"
Misty eyed, her cheeks reddened. She glared at him, her lips tugging down as she tried not to cry. "Please, can we talk about this later?"
"Yes, Alistair," Morrigan offered advice, "listen to your wife and save us all from enduring your aimless bickering."
"Stay out of it, Morrigan." The depth of Caoilainn's secret the longer she kept it made his heart ache. Tired of her lies and misdirection, the tactful avoidance of all his inquiries, Alistair would no longer settle for secrecy. His face burned, but he regained his whisper. "I need you to come with me-"
"I can't, Alistair." Composure lost, she squeezed her eyes shut. Tears pooling on her lashes, Caoilainn announced, "I'm pregnant."