Chapter 31: Before the Dark
"Tell me warden, what do you know of the Paragon Branka?"
Alim did his best to suppress a smile. He had to give it to Leliana; the girl knew what she was talking about.
Prince Bhelen recognized that it would not do to have the wardens come to the palace during the day. Vartag had come with his invitation late during the dwarven sleep cycle. The prince struck him as just another spoiled dwarven noble, ruthless and ambitious. His blonde hair and beard were clean, styled, and marked with the symbols of wealth. His eyes however were cold; Alim would not be surprised to learn if this man had murdered his brother, and sent his sister off to die.
It would not have surprised him one bit.
Alim had brought Alistair and Shale with him, his fellow warden was surprised that Alim had accepted the invitation, of course he had not known about the evidence planting thing either…
Alistair glared at him; Alim knew that he had a lot of explaining to do once they got back to the warden quarters.
He would likely have to talk fast, but he was confident that he could make his friend and warden brother see reason.
That was for later though, now…he had the prince to deal with.
The elf smiled at the noble.
"I know that she was a smith, and also an inventor," these things he had learned from asking the servants at the warden compound, few dwarves in Orzammar did not have an opinion on Branka, and if she still lived or not. It was a topic that was easy to gain information on.
"Indeed," Bhelen nodded, "One of the finest of her generation, though from what I understand the social graces were lacking. She went into the deep roads two years ago, seeking some sort of ancient knowledge. Her endorsement for my crown would go a long way to achieving victory.
Alim crossed his arms; he was interested to see Bhelen's reaction to his response.
"Harrowmont told me the same thing," the elf said, "I'm guessing you are not the only one seeking a paragon's aid."
Bhelen frowned, the dwarven prince began to pace.
"So Harrowmont desires her endorsement as well. I should have expected this."
He turned to Alim.
"Tell me warden, who would you support for the crown? You seem to have two feet planted firmly in both camps?"
"The wardens are neutral, your highness," he said diplomatically, "But we recognize that we need a strong king on the throne of Orzammar. One who looks forward, not back."
Bhelen smiled.
"You speak candidly and plainly warden, I can respect that," the prince admitted, "So allow me to be equally candid. You have seen the lengths I'm prepared to go to ensure the safety of Orzammar. You have also likely heard the lies others speak of me, especially the ones concerning my elder brother Trian."
The prince's face turned sad.
"I did not kill my brother; my sister did, in a brazen attempt to become heir to the throne. I may have suggested that Trian sought her destruction, but that was all. It did not take much on my part to get my siblings to turn on each other. If either of them had ascended to the throne, Orzammar would have suffered greatly. My people can be so much more than what Harrowmont suspects. He hides behind tradition like a cloak. The dwarves must be prepared to do brave things if we are to survive into the next age."
"My lord?"
The voice that had spoken was shy, almost pained.
Bhelen turned a warm smile on his face.
Alim looked behind them.
A small dwarven woman with bright red hair stood there, she was dressed in a fine nightgown and robes. The elf was shocked to notice the casteless brand on her cheek.
What was this now?
"Is there something wrong Rica, my dear," the prince purred.
"I was up with the baby," she confessed, "he has finally fallen asleep."
"Is my son well?" Bhelen asked.
"Fine and strong," Rica said with a smile, "My apologies for interrupting you Milord."
"No apologies necessary, love," Bhelen said kissing her lightly on the cheek, "I shall retire shortly, please give my love to little Endrin."
She curtseyed and left the room, Bhelen's eyes followed her as she left. He gave a tired sigh.
"My apologies warden," the prince said, "Rica is still adjusting to palace life."
"There is no need, highness," Alim responded, "Forgive me for saying so, but your wife is casteless?"
"Technically she is my concubine," Bhelen informed him, "but she is the woman I care for, the Mother of my son. "
"I was in Dust Town recently," Alim informed him, "I find it hard to believe that so many see little value of the casteless, they are quite numerous, and would likely fight for their home if given half the chance."
The Prince shook his head.
"That is another failing of our traditions warden," he admitted, "a dwarf is a dwarf to a darkspawn, if they took Orzammar tomorrow, the casteless would die the same as either merchant, noble, or warrior. If I was king, I would see them elevated, let them fight and earn a place in our world. My Rica is no less a dwarf, should she be considered nothing because one of her ancestors committed a crime centuries ago?"
Alim nodded, perhaps Bhelen were not the same after all.
"Harrowmont has provided me with maps leading to the old dwarven settlement of Caradin's Cross, he suggests that I start my search for the paragon there," Alim informed the noble.
"My own men hint at the same," The prince admitted, "I will show you all that they have gathered, it may aid you in your search."
"Forgive me, your grace," Alistair said, joining the conversation for the first time, "But what do you expect us to do, if it seems that Branka will not support you?"
Alim glared at his friend, but…he hated to admit it, he wanted to know that answer too.
Bhelen gave them a wolfish smile.
"If the deep roads has so addled Branka's mind that she is no longer able to see what is best for Orzammar, then perhaps it would be best if she did not return alive. A body would be equally good in this case. Proof that the Ancestors guided you to her remains, so that I could return her to the stone."
Alim was silent, Bhelen was a crafty one, he had asked them to kill Branka without asking them.
The Prince was clearly a dwarf with a talent for survival.
Alistair gave Alim a look, he shook his head, they would discuss this back at the warden quarters.
"We shall do as you ask, Highness," he promised with a bow, "Now…if you will excuse us, we have work to do."
"Of course, warden," the prince said, "May the stone guide your steps in this endeavor."
Alim and Alistair left the prince's quarters; Shale met them in the hall.
Alistair did not look happy, he was glaring at Alim.
The elf sighed.
This would not be a pleasant conversation.
IOI
"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU DID THIS!"
"Calm down Alistair," Alim said.
"Calm down, CALM DOWN! Lim, Bhelen is not the kind of person we should be dealing with."
"I agree," the elf said.
"I don't…" Alistair paused…had Alim just agreed with him.
"What?" Alistair said.
"I recognize that Bhelen is not a good man," the elf continued, "But Harrowmont is not much better. Maker's breath Alistair, he could have dealt with the Carta, but he did not want to risk losing his own men. Bhelen maybe a bastard, but at least he is an honest bastard."
Alistair shook his head; he gave up trying to figure out this crazy city a week ago.
"So…we are going to do it. We are going into the deep roads to search for this Branka?"
"I am going," he corrected his friend, "I'll take a small group with me, and search, the others will remain here…under your command."
Alistair's eyes widened.
Alim was going to leave him in charge?
He was going to leave him behind?
Bad idea, BAAAAAD idea.
"You do not have to coddle me Lim," Alistair reminded him, "If you go, I go."
"We can't both go into the deep roads," Alim reminded him, "We are the last two Grey Wardens, and the blight still has to be fought. You will wait here for two months, if we have not returned…you shall take the others and continue on with the remaining treaty. Come back to Orzammar later if you have to; with luck the kingship maybe decided by then."
"If one of us has to stay, maybe if should be you," former Templar offered, "The mages know you…"
"And this Arl Eamon knows you," the elf said, "You have a better shot than I to convince the nobles to aid us."
Alistair snorted, if Lim only knew, a skin rash was likely more welcome than him in Redcliffe.
Alim's ears twitched with irritation.
"We can't both go, Ali," he said, "This is likely a suicide mission. If we had more wardens to risk that would be different, but we do not. It is up to us, and I can think of no one more suited than you to lead if I fall."
Alistair shook his head, Alim did not know what he was saying…but…he did make sense.
Maker help them all.
"You have to survive this," the former Templar said.
"I will try," the elf promised, "but this is the deep roads we are talking about."
"They are supposed to be safer to travel during blight," Alistair offered.
"That makes me feel sooooo much better," the elf chuckled.
Alistair snorted with amusement; Lim truly was a smart ass.
"So, that is it," Alistair said, "You have decided."
"Yes."
Alistair tried to think of something to say, something to convince the elf not to do this, but he could not.
It was funny, if someone had told him back at Ostagar that he would consider the snarky elven mage a friend he would have laughed, but now…now…
He realized that he saw of Alim more than a friend, and more than a fellow warden.
He…he had come to consider the elf as…family…like a brother, an annoying snarky little brother, but a brother none the less.
He smiled at Alim, and held out his hand.
"Maker watch over you, brother," he said.
The elf took it, and gave it a shake.
"Over us both, brother," Alim said.
The two men smiled, what an odd family they made, the last of the Grey Wardens in Ferelden.
Maker help them all.
"Look at the bright side Ali," Alim grinned, "You get to spend some alone time with Morrigan."
Alistair wrinkled his nose.
"You're not taking her?"
"Nope, she is all yours."
"Great," Alistair said dryly.
Alim cackled in amusement, he turned to leave.
"Who is going with you?" he asked the elf.
"Shale and Sten," he informed his friend, "I also asked Leliana, she is afraid, but is willing to go with us."
"Just the four of you?" Alistair sounded concerned.
Alim shook his head.
"I hope to bring one other," the elf confessed, "I sent Leliana to speak with him. I want a dwarven guide along for the ride."
A dwarven guide?
Alistair could not imagine who Alim would want to accompany them? Who in Orzammar could they trust?
Who would be crazy enough even to want to go?
IOI
Tapster's Tavern was packed this time of night.
Leliana arrived, hooded and cloaked. She was surprised that Alim would even talk to her after her major screw up earlier, much less ask her to do something for him.
She needed to do this she realized, to show Alim that she was not some…bigot.
She had come to like being in Alim's regard, she did not want to lose that.
She spoke with the hostess, hoping that her quarry was still here.
The dwarven woman motioned to a table in the back, a look of distaste on her face.
Leliana headed that way.
The dwarf she sought sat nursing a mug of ale in the farthest booth in the back; everyone else gave him a wide birth.
He glared up at her with bloodshot eyes.
"WHAT DO YOU WANT!" he growled.
"Greetings Ser dwarf," she said with a polite bow, "I am here on behalf of the Grey Wardens. They wish to speak to you."
The dwarf snorted a laughed.
"So it is like that is it?" he snorted, "Harrowmont's grown so desperate he is hitting up ole' Oghren for info, eh. Well, if he wants the secrets of a paragon he can go look for her his own damn self."
Leliana gave the dwarf a sly smile, she could not have dreamed of a more perfect set-up.
"Actually," she said, "The wardens are planning an expedition into the deep roads. We are going to look for the Paragon Branka."
Oghren paused, his mind tried to function, despite the drunken haze, his red glassy eyes tried to focus on her.
"You having me on, lass?"
"We thought that you might wish to aid us," she said with a shrug, "But if you do not wish to help…"
She turned, starting to walk away.
"Hold up," Oghren shouted.
She turned a serene smile on her face.
"Yes, ser dwarf?" she asked innocently.
Oghren grinned at her. He motioned to the chair across from him.
"Wanna pint, lass," he offered, "I think we have some things to jaw about."
Leliana smiled and sat.
Yes, they did have some things to talk about.