7. Heroes

And so Loki found himself in the unimaginable position of fighting alongside his brother. Truth be told, Thor was handy in a fight. Outside of battle, however, he was more annoying than Alistair. He instantly agreed to aid any and all mortals who came stumbling across the Wardens' path.

At this rate, it would take forever to get around to finding the blasted archdemon.

"Are you sure you're not part Grey Warden?" Alistair asked Thor after a particularly gruelling battle against genlocks and ogres in the Deep Roads.

"No, friend Alistair."

"Just... a god."

"You still don't believe?"

"Well, it's just... so far beyond what we've been taught."

"There are worlds beyond the Veil, my friend. Perhaps one day your world will be ready to know of us from Asgard."

Loki ground his teeth. Later, he cornered Alistair. "You're not falling for Thor's lies, are you?"

"Well... no." The Templar shrugged. "They just all seem so consistent."

"When he talks about worlds beyond the Veil, you know he means the Fade, right? Honestly, Alistair, 'tis as plain as day he's a demon."

Alistair chewed this over for a while, like a cow with a cud. Then he said, "It's not a demon."

"Oh come on, Alistair!"

"It's a spirit from beyond the Veil, obviously. I'm not stupid, you know."

"Yet you keep trying to prove that wrong."

"So he's an abomination. Technically. But with a benign spirit that is aiding us, not wreaking havoc."

Loki huffed in frustration.

"It's not like he's the only one."

"What? What do you mean?"

"Oh, you didn't know? Um... oops. I said nothing!" He sidled past Loki, making an expeditious escape. "La-la-la, off to the latrines."

===#===

With Thor's help, it was child's play to defeat Durgan's treacherous brother and all his mercenaries, darkspawn and cave dwellers, brood mothers and golems. Durgan was a convert, having nothing but praise for the shining god.

Loki returned to Morrigan's solitary ways. He didn't want to risk Thor recognizing him. Not that Thor had any brains, but it was highly likely Loki would verbally attack him and reveal knowledge of the universe and events beyond Thedas. So stupid, to let his emotions rule him so. Yet he couldn't seem to help himself. Thor galled him, like a burr under a harness, and he a dumb beast, automatically biting at it.

Leliana and Wynne invaded Loki's camp once again, once they were out of the underground kingdom. "We missed you at our fire," the priestess said. "So we brought potion-making time to you."

"My gratefulness knows no bounds," Loki replied drolly.

"It's exactly that wit we've been missing."

He grumbled, but a small part of him was glad for a bit of distraction. He automatically began sorting the dried herbs.

"What do you think of our new companion?" Wynne pried.

"Oh, he's improved our group tremendously."

"Really?"

"Yes. Alistair seems perfectly brilliant in comparison."

Leliana laughed, and even though Wynne huffed in annoyance, she did so with a smile. Then said, "You're jealous, no?"

"Jealous?"

"Mm hm," she replied with a smug smile. "Alistair pays more attention to Thor than to you."

Jealous rage did flare in Loki's breast. He quelled it. "That's ridiculous."

"Don't worry," Leliana assured him. "Alistair doesn't fancy men in that way."

"Why should I worry, one way or another?" Though truth be told... now he began to worry. Thor could ruin everything, just be existing! Like he always did. Why did Loki have to tear the Veil? Stupid, stupid!

"Hmm," Wynne said, eyeing him. "No, you seem completely unconcerned."

He looked down at the herbs he was crushing in one fist, then released them. "I was thinking of something else."

"Mm hmm," the two gossipers chorused.

"Pah." Loki dusted dried leaves from his hands. "And what do you think of him, this foreign god?"

"Mmm, he is quite godly," said Leliana with a dreamy expression.

Wynne tisked her younger companion.

"That's hardly devout," Loki had to agree.

"True. But there is something about him I find... irresistible."

Loki frowned. Thor seemed to have that effect on many mortal women. Was Morrigan meant to also swoon over the young god? Perhaps he should pretend to be smitten, to fawn and simper over Thor. That would certainly throw his brother off the trail.

But no, Loki wouldn't be able to stomach it. Nothing ruined a perfect acting job like vomiting. Returning his mind to the conversation, he said, "Isn't he some sort of dangerous abomination?"

Leliana and Wynne looked at each other. Then Leliana said, "He has proven his worth time and again as our ally. He clearly does not seek to destroy us."

"Still," Wynne said, "he seems to me most like a Pride demon. They can be tricky. Becoming entangled with them is always a risk." She gave her companion a warning look.

Leliana sighed. "Well, I can still look, no?"

===#===

It was inevitable, wasn't it? Everyone loved Thor. Loki grimaced at the bad taste in his mouth as he looked over to the companions' cookfire. Thor was raising a mug, Durgan beside him.

"'Tis an honor to fight alongside such skilled warriors," Thor said. "We have earned much glory today."

"Glory?" Alistair asked.

"Yes. The thrill of battle, the glory of defeating your foes, the accolades of the skalds - the legends they tell. Is that not why you fight?"

"What?" Alistair frowned. "Uh... no. We're fighting to help people. To save the world from being ravaged. We're fighting for our lives, here."

"I suppose for mortals it is different."

"Uh, yeah, I guess." Alistair quaffed his mug with the rest, but then he stood to go clean up his dishes. Loki took his own plate to intercept him.

"Are you sure we should trust Thor, Alistair? He's dangerous."

The Templar chuckled. "If you don't like him, then good."

"Why? Because I only like self-aggrandizing, thick-headed, boastful prigs?"

"You're just like him."

"What?" Loki sputtered. "How? How am I anything like that pompous ass?"

Alistair turned to face him, extending a finger to begin counting. "Hmm... full of himself? Smugly superior? Thinks his opinion is better than everyone else's?"

"I am not... like... any of that!"

Alistair pursed his lips and added, "Self-deluding..."

"Oh, shut up." Loki glowered. "If you don't like him, why is he here?"

"Well, the same reason you are, I suppose."

"He's useful to the Wardens."

Alistair nodded. "Duncan told me once that the Wardens recruit anyone, no matter what they've done or who they are. Nobles, criminals, even blood mages. As long as they could serve the greater good fighting the taint." He tilted his head. "Surely you can see the benefit of keeping him around."

"Yes." Loki sighed. "'Tis true." He didn't have to like it, however. "I am glad to see you being more practical. There may be hope for you, yet."

===#===

8. The Landsmeet

The political machinations of the Landsmeet were useless in the end. General Loghain MacTir had a strong rebuttal to each of the Grey Wardens' arguments, plus his army was significantly larger than the Wardens' little troupe.

"I will not step down!" the general roared.

Cousland moved to face him. "Then we will settle this in the traditional manner."

"What is the traditional manner?" Loki asked aside to Alistair.

"A duel to the death."

Well, that seemed a waste. Mortals could be diligent about snuffing out their brief lives, despite their fear of oblivion.

Loghain was staring down Cousland. "Very well. Do you plan to face me yourself? Or do you have a champion in mind?" A faint mocking note colored his tone.

Thor strode forward with the air of a man confident in his privileges. "I shall defeat your foe for you!"

"No you won't," Alistair barked, jumpin in his way. "I will fight Loghain!"

"No one shall be my champion." Hadrian quelled them both with a glare. "I will fight my own battle."

"But-"

"But-!"

"Step back!"

Grudgingly, they gave way. Loki sidled up to Alistair. "You want to fight him? He is a renowned warrior, is he not?"

"He's a traitor, and I want to kill him," the Templar snarled.

Loki raised a brow. "So bloodthirsty. I approve. Didn't know you had it in you."

Alistair did not reply. His attention was focused on the duel.

The warriors were evenly matched, Cousland with his youth and speed, Loghain with his stamina and experience. Yet the Warden had the added advantage granted to him by the taint in his blood. Loghan was struck down.

Cousland stood over him, sword raised. "Surrender!"

"What!?" Alistair yelped from the sidelines.

Loghain slowly pushed himself up, but only to his knees. "You are stronger than I expected. I..." He lifted a hand, first two fingers extended together. "I yield."

Cousland stepped back, lowering his blade. Alistair rushed forward, incensed. "What are you doing? Kill him!"

Riordan followed with Durgan, the latter putting a restraining hand on Alistair's arm. The Orlesian Warden said, "Wait. There is another way. He is a skilled warrior, a veteran general, non? He could help us. He could join us."

"Join us?" Alistair said, agape. "What are you saying? Join the Wardens? Riordan, this man killed our brethren, he blamed us for it, and hunted us down like vermin! He slaughtered the Orlesian Wardens; he tortured you! Why would you even suggest such a thing?"

Cousland said, "The Joining may prove to be fatal." He faced the Templar. "If he survives, then we have a powerful ally. If not, then your thirst for revenge should be satisfied."

"Joining the Wardens is an honor, not a punishment! And I don't want revenge, I want justice!"

"There are precious too few Wardens in this war, Alistair. We need him."

Alistair's face twisted in a hateful snarl.

"What did Duncan teach us? The Wardens accept help from anyone, in any form."

"This is the man responsible for Duncan's death! I will not stand beside him as a brother!"

Durgan growled. "Don't be stupid, Alistair. Let us recruit him."

"No, I won't stand for it!"

Cousland looked down at the silent general. "Will you join us? Or must I use the Right of Conscription?"

"I will join you."

Grinding his teeth, Alistair tore his arm from Durgan's grasp. Without a word he marched out of the hall.

Loki was stunned. He could never have foreseen this! Plus, his prey was escaping. He ran after the wayward Templar. He caught up to him in the hall. "Alistair! You can't just quit the Grey Wardens!"

"Watch me!"

"I will not! Talk about stupid - and downright selfish!"

Alistair whirled on him. "Loghain is a traitor, a murderer, a regicide - he deserves to be executed three times over, but no! Instead, they want to give him the honor of joining the Grey Wardens!"

"He could die slaying the archdemon," Loki said reasonably.

"Pfeh. He could die in the bloody Joining, but that would still make him one of us. And if he did slay the archdemon, that would only make him a hero again. He doesn't deserve that! Not after arranging the slaughter of the real heroes, like Duncan."

"Alistair, really. Have you not been paying attention? Joining the Wardens is a death sentence - the Taint, the nightmares, the shortened lifespan, the constant fighting against impossible odds? Being a 'hero' is a living hell."

"You still don't understand about fighting for something bigger than yourself, do you?" Alistair shook his head in disgust.

Loki didn't think quitting was an exemplary illustration of that ideal. "And what would Duncan say?" he probed.

"Duncan was ten times the hero Loghain ever was! He deserved to be here, not Loghain. He deserved to be the hero, not Loghain!"

"You said the Grey Wardens recruit anybody - criminals, apostates - even blood mages. Even murderers and traitors. If Loghain could help even a little, Duncan would recruit him in a heartbeat. Because he was pragmatic."

"Don't you talk about Duncan," Alistair shouted in his face. "You didn't know him!" He turned and stomped off.

Loki trotted after him. "And what are you going to do?"

"Get bloody drunk, for starters."

"And then what? Abandon your country? Your people? Hide away like a coward while others fight and die? Is that what a hero does, Alistair?"

The man halted, his limbs stiff, hands clenched. Loki dodged to the side to avoid running into him. Alistair shook with rage, emotions warring on his face, his anger, his anguish.

Loki wasn't sure he could keep the man from reaching his breaking point. Hesitantly, he said, "You're bigger than that, Alistair. You're stronger."

"I just hate him. So much! I can't look at him without wanting to kill him, to hurt him."

"Oh, I know exactly how you feel," said Loki, thoughts turning to his own past, his own 'family.'

"Do you?" Alistair looked at him intently.

"There's a rage I've carried... nearly all my life."

"What did you do about it?"

He thought a moment. "Lived with it, I guess. I... acted out. I tried... to hurt them."

"Did it work? Did it make you feel better?"

Loki looked at the floor. Did it make him feel better? Hatred built upon anger, and anger upon hatred, until his heart was fortified with a castle made of these stones. "No," he said hoarsely. "They just kept loving me and... not getting enraged back. 'Twas most annoying."

Alistair huffed a faint laugh. "Well," he said awkwardly, "I guess I can try to put up with someone I hate without killing them outright."

"You've certainly had enough practice with me, haven't you?" Loki looked up at him to gauge his reaction.

Alistair chuckled softly, then his eyes met Loki's. They locked gazes, their shared history together called to mind. Then Alistair's lips were on his, gentle but firm. Warm. And his breasts were pressed to Alistair's armor. Then somehow, the man's arms were around him, shielding and comforting for all their cold steel. Loki's eyes closed as he focused on the sensation of the kiss, his mouth seeking more of the alluring touch, exploring it.

Strangest of all, he felt something growing inside him, like the spark of a small sun. It expanded in his chest until he could hardly breathe.

He pulled back and Alistair gently released his embrace. What in Helheim was that? Loki understood passion - it was meant to be a flame, a fire ignited in the loins. Not some light glowing inside his chest.

Alistair was watching him, a serious, thoughtful look on his face. He didn't stutter, or pull back, or apologize, or even open his stupid mouth at all. Loki didn't, either. This was good, right? He'd meant to seduce this man, and apparently he'd succeeded.

Confused, he touched a fingertip to his lips, where a faint charge of electricity remained.

Alistair said softly, "Thank you, Morrigan. I guess... sometimes your harsh opinion is best."

"I suppose even you can learn something," Loki responded automatically.

"It's like you say: 'even a stopped clock is right twice a day.'" He smiled.

"And like that, my foolish dreams are crushed." Loki faked a sigh, but inside, the spark still warmed him.

They took hands briefly on their way back. But only briefly. They'd never live it down, if anyone saw.

===#===

9. Outcast

Loki retreated to his own tiny fire at the outskirts of camp. He'd grown to know these foolish mortals with all their quirks and convoluted interactions, but now he had to focus on his plan. Or, rather, Flemeth's plan. He picked absently at the cursed pendant again.

Still, it wasn't as if he couldn't see and hear everything that went on by the central fire. Alistair was being an utter prick to Loghain. He didn't say anything; he couldn't really do anything - he had to put up with the man's presence, to accept him as a member of their party - so he was reduced to acting like a petulant child. Throwing Loghain's gear on the ground. Slinging stew into Loghain's bowl with a forcefully derisive plop. Ripping a chunk of bread off the loaf and practically tossing it at the man.

Finally, he took a seat as far away from Loghain as possible. Which, since they were in a circle, happened to be right across from him. Realizing his mistake, Alistair half-turned to sit astride the log, nearly kicking Durgan in the head as he swung his leg over.

"Oy!"

Loghain scowled across the fire. "Do you have something to say to me, Alistair?"

"No, I have absolutely nothing to say to you."

"Really? Because I wish you'd just have it out like a man, instead of all these childish antics."

That tore it. Alistair twisted in his seat. "You - I don't care what you did during the Orlesian war - you're a traitor! You abandoned your countrymen - you abandoned us - leaving us to be slaughtered by the darkspawn!"

"The fight-"

"Shut up!" Everyone jumped at Alistair's blunt shout, even Loghain. "Maric was your best friend, and you plotted to murder his son! You let him go out there, into the teeth of the horde, and then left him to die!"

"Maric was never my friend."

"What?"

"Those were just stories people made up. I never did respect him. I was his baby-sitter, not his bosom companion."

Alistair bared his teeth. "That's your excuse?"

"It's not an excuse. I don't need to justify my actions."

"Do you have any idea what they did to Cailen? How they desecrated his body?"

Loghain had the decency to look away.

"You know what?" Alistair said in a frostily chipper tone. "The only reason you're alive right now is just so Cousland can marry your daughter without having to deal with the awkward issue of 'oh, yeah, sorry about killing your father, sweetie. Will you still marry me?'"

Hadrian flushed. "Alistair," he reprimanded.

"No," said Loghain. "Let him get it all out." He looked at Alistair. "It's a shame how Maric treated you. It's no wonder you turned out the way you have."

Silence reigned at the fire, broken only by the crackle of flames. Alistair's face went from deathly pale to enraged red as his jaw struggled to work. "You-! I don't need your pity!" he spit. "You know what?" He clambered to his feet. "You don't get to talk to me. Do your damned duty and die fighting the archdemon. You don't even exist to me!"

He walked off, leaving a cold vacuum in his wake.

"Huh," Durgan snorted. "Boy's got some balls after all."

Alistair had circled around the main camp and appeared at Morrigan's fire. "Can I sit with you?"

Loki gaped. He didn't know what to say, or what Morrigan would say, so he just shrugged mutely. It was just as well, it seemed Alistair didn't need to talk.

They ate in silence, each with his own thoughts. Then Alistair said, "Can I... stay with you tonight?"

Loki froze.

"I mean - not like that! I just..." He looked off to the main camp. "I just want to be alone. Not - I mean - to kick you out or anything, that kind of alone. I just can't stand the thought of being with them right now. They're my family, and I feel so betrayed."

Loki slowly drew his lower lip through his teeth. "Yes, Alistair. It's fine. I understand." As one outcast bastard to another.

The Templar let out a whoosh of breath, and a cartload of tension drained from him. "Thank you, Morrigan."

He went and fetched his own bedroll and pack, and Loki made room for him in the tent. As promised, Alistair did nothing more than roll over and fall asleep.

Loki, however, lay awake far after the camp had settled from its conversations and chores into the silence of sleeping mortals. Why was he so restless? If he wanted to, he could have Alistair right here, right now. The man was ripe for emotional plucking, vulnerable and needy. Feeling inadequate - Loghain's references to his childishness leading to the need to prove his manhood.

This will be easy, Loki thought.

Then why did it seem as if it would be so hard?

===X===