A/N: This was inspired by the Dragon Age 2/Harry Potter X-Over fic "The Champion of Kirkwall and the Untamed Mage" by oso1991. This likely would have turned into a Harry/Bethany fic- it's what I was aiming for any ways.
This story starts before the events of Dragon Age: Origins, possibly around the time of the prologue. Not entirely sure which Warden would have been saved by Duncan, I think I was leaning towards a fem!Tabris Warden.
Not sure when/if I'll continue this, but this is a concept I've wanted to explore for a lone time.
Enjoy!
A young man, wise beyond the years of his appearance stood behind the bar washing a mug when the armored hero walked into his establishment. Despite the fact that the tavern had yet to open, the young man did not tell the hero to leave.
"I hoped I'd find you here," the armored warrior said to the bar keep.
The young man simply smiled. "Where else would I be? It's good to see you again, General." He then proceeded to fill the mug he'd been cleaning from one of the kegs containing one of his specialty house ales.
"No one calls me that anymore," The General said as he sat down in front of the offered mug. He hesitantly raised the mug, examining it for a moment before taking a strong pull from it. He let a contented sigh. "It seems like forever since I just sat down. What do you call this one?"
"Mabari's Might," the barkeep answered. "What do you think?"
"It's good. Better than anything you'd find in either Denerim or Gwaren," the General complimented him. "Its name suits it."
"I thought you'd like it. Fitting too, since the name screams Fereldan and who better to try it first than Fereldan's greatest patriot, the mighty General-Teyrn Loghain Mac Tir?" The barkeep explained.
Loghain huffed in amusement. "What will it take for me to convince you to come with me to Ostagar? We could use your talents."
The barkeep shook his head. "Sorry, mate, but even if I were inclined to fight off a darkspawn horde, I have other obligations."
Loghain looked at the barkeep incredulously. "More important than ending this so called 'Blight'?"
The barkeep's attention wandered for a moment as his gaze fell upon the passersby outside his window before turning his attention back to the general. "Yeah, I'd like to think so."
Loghain, looked to where the barkeep's attention had wandered and noted, "She's quite beautiful."
The barkeep shook his head. "I hadn't noticed."
Loghain raised his brow at that. "Why not?"
"You mean besides the fact that I look no older than she does, despite being much older than the two of you, Maric and Eamon combined?" the barkeep asked incredulously. He then sighed, "I've watched too many friends come and go and it never gets any easier, Loghain."
"So you have noticed," Loghain noted with a smirk.
The barkeep rolled his eyes. "Hard not to, especially around these parts. Besides, I promised her eldest brother I'd look out for her and their mother. Both he and her twin ARE among the recruits headed out with you to Ostagar."
"Do you know what company they're in?" Loghain asked.
The barkeep shook his head. "If they've been assigned to a regiment already, they haven't told me."
Loghain nodded. "It's a shame we won't be riding out together, for old times' sake."
The barkeep nodded. "Yes... It is." His tone took on a touch of nostalgia.
Loghain took a long pull from the mug, before placing it back on the bar. "I can't help but wonder about something you said."
The barkeep gave Loghain a look signaling for him to continue.
"You said that Cailan would grow to be a great king..." Loghain began, before trailing off.
"I stand by what I said, Loghain, the son of Maric will make a great king, just as Anora has been a wise and formidable queen these last five years," the barkeep said with a slight smile. "And will continue to be so, for some time yet, I think."
Instead of bringing comfort to the wizened war hero, the barkeep's words seemed to trouble him further.
"I see very little of Maric in his son," Loghain said after a moment of contemplation.
"Then perhaps you're not looking at things from the right perspective," the barkeep told him.
Loghain frowned. "Why can't you mages ever say what you mean?"
"Obscure truths and hidden meanings are hardly the dominion of mages, General," the barkeep rebutted. "Old men and politicians, of which you are both, are seasoned lie-smiths as well."
Instead of getting angry like many would have expected, Loghain simply huffed in amusement and gave the barkeep a smirk, shaking his head. "Everything I've learned of lie-smithing, I've learned from you, Elder Mage. A seasoned practitioner I may be, but your expertise is well beyond mine."
"True," the barkeep agreed with a smirk.
Loghain sighed, his mood growing somber. "No one talks to me like this anymore, like an equal or an old friend- except for Bryce, and even then we rarely see eye to eye."
"The trappings of legend and legacy," the barkeep acknowledged wisely. "Fame is a fickle friend and you don't know what you have until it's gone."
Loghain sighed again. "More cryptic wisdom?"
The barkeep smiled sadly at the general. "Words you should heed carefully. All it takes is a single misstep for legend and legacy to fall astray."
The two men looked each other in the eye, communicating much in the shared glance. Loghain was the first to look away. "My course is set. Everything I've done and will do is for the greater good of my Fereldan and her people."
"Many a great deed have been justified by those words, Teyrn," the barkeep stated in warning. "Terrible deeds... Terrible, but great."
The Teyrn took another sip of his ale, but it suddenly tasted sour to him in it's' stein. He put the mug down and laid a couple coppers on the bar.
"I'll... Keep that under advisement..." the Teyrn said as he stood. "Good bye, Harry."
"Loghain," Harry replied with a nod. After the teyrn was out the door, he sighed. "We'll not meet again."
It was weeks later when news from Ostagar changed for the worst.
Harry couldn't honestly say what he'd have done to Loghain had the man dared to come see him once again, as he had to comfort a young woman who was sobbing in his arms in worry over the possible death of her brothers. Though there had been many times in the past where Harry did not see eye to eye with the man- particularly in regards to anything that had even the smallest thing to do with Orlais- he could not honestly say that he hated the man until the main army had arrived back in Lothering after the disastrous battle.
It had been horrible enough that the battle had seen not only the King and every Grey Warden in Fereldan killed in battle, but also the loss of the entirety of the King's personal regiment, which had included the young woman's brothers. Harry had to crush the guilt he felt in the pit of his stomach because he knew he could have potentially stopped Loghain from possibly killing Bethany's brothers, but he'd done nothing. It was a little more than two weeks later when some form of hope came to Lothering.
Grey Wardens.
They were a small ragtag retinue consisting of a wilder witch, a Templar trainee, a mabari war hound, and a female city elf. Harry could feel the taint on the elf and the Templar from miles away and observed them from afar as they completed tasks on the chanter board as well as resolving other issues around the isolated village that was practically the gateway to the Korcari Wilds on the Imperial Highway. He observed their meeting and recruitment of the sister-bard and the soulless.
It was while the group was making final preparations to leave Lothering that Harry approached one of their number.
"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were your father," Harry commented lightly.
"What!?" Was Alistair's eloquent reply.
"You look just like him, you know. More so than even your brother, Alistair."
The Templar Warden was instantly on edge. "Who are you?" he asked warily.
"A friend," Harry replied.
"A friend?" Alistair asked incredulously.
"A friend," Harry repeated with a smile. "One of very few you have in all of Fereldan, young Prince."
"So are you here to offer aid?" Alistair asked.
"Not directly," Harry told him. "Like your father, the General is an old friend and while I'm not above aiding you against him, I cannot bring myself to do the same, son of Maric."