Chapter 142: War Council Two
"Disturbing."
Arl Eamon shook his head as he read the papers the wardens had brought back from the Alienage. The Arl of Redcliffe, at Alim's insistence, ignored the bloodstains and focused on what the paper said and was. Writs of permission for Tevinter slavers from the Minrathous Circle to operate in the Denerim Alienage, writs signed by the Regent himself.
Alim watched the man as he examined the evidence the wardens had gathered. The noble hid his emotions well, but it was not hard to guess what the Arl was thinking.
On some level, the Arl probably still hoped that Loghain could be made to see sense. For almost thirty years the Teyrn had been a hero to the people of Ferelden. A brave man that could rally his countrymen with the slightest of words, such a man would have been useful against the darkspawn horde. If the papers that the wardens had taken from Caladrius had made one thing clear, it was this…
Loghain was no longer the man the people of Ferelden had known and loved. He had become someone quite darker, and perhaps…
…Something far worse.
Eamon took a deep breath as he folded the papers up, and turned to those sitting around him.
They had gathered shortly after the wardens' return to the Arl's estate. Alim had been a bit surprised that they were able to return completely unmolested. No troops emerged from the shadows. No assassins or bounty hunters blocked them, or tried to seize Caladrius' notes.
Alim tried to make sense of that. Perhaps Loghain did not believe that such papers still existed, or perhaps he thought that, in their fury, the wardens had not given the Tevinter any chance to negotiate for his life?
Whatever the reason, it was a terrible blunder on the regent's part...
…A blunder that the wardens would exploit to the fullest.
"This will go a long way towards convincing the nobles that Loghain is no longer the hero that he once was," Eamon said handing the paper back to the elven mage.
The noble sighed.
"Though it saddens me to read these words, I'm grateful to the wardens for finding these papers. They will go a long way towards advancing our cause.
Alim smiled wanly.
"I wish we could have made it to the Alienage sooner, Your Grace," he said, "Maybe we could have done more than what we did."
Eamon nodded
"You saved some, warden, sometimes…that is the best that you can hope for.
He leaned against the front of his desk. Around him had gathered the rest of their little war council. The wardens stood off to the right; Alim, Theron, Alistair, And Riordan remained together, out of a sense of solidarity for their order. Their only associate who was not in attendance was Jowan, though he had proven himself in the Alienage, the history between him and the Arl was still too fresh to go parading him around in Eamon's presence.
Even Riordan had agreed that discretion in this was wiser.
When it came to the Arl of Redcliffe, Jowan was to remain out of sight.
Of course, that was the way things had been going where Riordan was concerned, Alim would issue and order, and the senior warden would back it. It was a little surprising truth be told.
The elven mage wondered why that Riordan had not simply taken control of the situation, as senior warden he had every right to. The older man, however, seemed content to sit back and let his Ferelden born brothers do what was expected of them.
To the left sat Queen Anora, with her handmaiden only two steps away. The woman had been extremely quiet since the wardens' return from the Alienage. Alim could not even guess what was going through her head right now.
Anora had always been well respected, and in most cases, loved by her people. He wondered what she thought of her father selling his elven subjects to pay for his war against the Banns.
Fergus, representing the nobles' interest in all this leaned against a large bookcase, listening intently. He had said little during their journey back from the Alienage. He had spoken briefly with Kallian's father and seemed a bit…pensive afterward. If any awkwardness had arisen from the meeting, Kallian had not shown any, staying close to her love, and watching over him with a ready sword.
"We should send word to the nobles," he suggested, "Call the Landsmeet to convene as soon as possible."
Fergus frowned.
"We cannot afford to give Loghain any more time to maneuver."
"That should not be a problem Fergus," Eamon agreed, "Our allies have gathered for the most part. I've received word from the Banns of both Dragon's Peak and Waking Seas…"
The Arl smiled slightly.
"They had agreed to support us, and will do what they can to bring the others over."
"It is a start Eamon," Anora said nodding, "Between the papers, my testimony, and the support of the Banns we will at least not be laughed out of the hall."
"Or attacked," Alim said bluntly, "Loghain's forces are still outside the city. They could cause trouble for us if this goes badly for him."
The elf shook his head.
"I'm surprised that he has not responded in that way already."
Eamon pursed his lips at the warden's statement.
"Loghain has enough problems right now," he said, "Attacking his fellow nobles in Denerim would only add to them. Word of Rendon Howe's death has finally begun to spread beyond the capital; unrest continues to rise in the north. Highever is rioting out of control as we speak, the garrison that had been stationed there was overwhelmed. The bulk of the Howe army is engaged both there, and in Amaranthine trying to quell the resistance that has sprung up now that the Arl is dead. Thomas Howe rode out to deal with it, but my sources in the army have confirmed that no one has heard from him in several days. He may have been ambushed along the road. If he was slain, than Howes' loyalists are now leaderless and floundering."
Fergus' eyes narrowed at that, it was good news, but he no doubt hated the thought that his people were destroying their own city.
"I'm surprised that Loghain has not dispatched my loving sister to put an end to the fighting?"
"My sources suggest that she is remaining close to the Regent, and his men," Eamon added, "Many in Highever know that she has spent many months working closely with Howe and Loghain. Perhaps she fears that she would receive the same welcome as Thomas Howe if she returned to Highever in the company of Loghain soldiers?"
"Perhaps," Fergus agreed, "of course we need to remember that my sister is no fool. She may simply be waiting for Loghain to emerge victorious in all this. If Loghain succeeds in the Landsmeet, many of the nobles will stand down, freeing up his men to aid Elissa in making herself the new Teyrna."
The eldest Cousland's eyes turned flinty at the thought.
"I will not let Howe's schemes bear fruit. Elissa will never be Teyrna. I will make certain of that."
Riordan cleared his throat loudly.
"We must try to remember that the darkspawn are the true threat here," the older warden said in a tired voice, "We cannot afford to fight amongst ourselves any longer. For months the horde has marched unchecked, swelling its ranks and destroying your lands."
Riordan sighed.
"We will need as many men as we can muster, if we are to stop their advance."
None of the nobles disputed the old wardens take on the situation. Reports coming in from the south had already been mentioning darkspawn raiding parties moving swiftly along the roads in the north, farther north than they had ranged since the Blight had begun, ambushing travelers, and destroying homes and farms.
These were only scouting parties; the main horde will not be far behind.
"We are all aware that we are running out of time," Alim said with a heavy sigh. He looked up at Alistair, the intensity of his gaze made even the former Templar flinch.
"We're going to need you soon Alistair; I hope you are up to it."
The former Templar swallowed hard, he looked like he now bore the weight of the world on his shoulders.
"I…I will do my best Lim. You know that."
Alistair looked at his feet, not really wanting to meet the eyes of any of his fellows. He knew what was expected of him, how could he not, but that did not mean that he was not worried. Alim had spent enough time around Alistair these many months to guess what he was feeling at that moment.
His fellow warden was afraid that he was not up to the job, and, alas...
He was not the only one.
Anora tried to keep her face a blank indifferent mask, but in doing so she revealed much of what she was thinking. She had still not given up on the idea that the wardens would return her to the throne when this was all over. Her testimony would be valuable, no one could doubt that, but at the same time Alim could not forget all that they had faced in the last year, all they had seen when it had come to Loghain's rule of Ferelden, a rule made possible by the fact that his daughter was the king's widow, and the fact that she had done nothing to check his excesses.
He thought of Uldred, the crow cages along the king's road, and the almost endless line of bounty hunters and assassins that had dogged their steps since Ostagar. Anora was no fool, and she was not simply a figurehead, had she wanted to, she could have stood up to her father, but she had not, not until she was locked in a guest room of the Arl of Denerim's estate, looking at a possible death sentence.
They needed her testimony, it would go a long way towards swaying the nobles that still believed in her and Loghain; at the same time it was clear that Eamon intended to put Alistair forward as Cailan's rightful heir. His claim, by his father's blood, was stronger than any other noble's in Ferelden that included Anora MacTir.
Alim had toyed with the idea of a political marriage between the two. Anora could stay queen, and Eamon would have his Theirin king on the throne. That might solve problems in the short term, but in the end the future of Ferelden would need to be considered as well.
Alim's elven ears lowered in frustration.
If the kingdom was to stay stable, Alistair would need an heir. If what he had come to know about the order was true, Alistair would already have a bit of a problem on that point. The taint would make him having a child difficult. Add into the argument that Anora had never been able to produce a child herself, and it was clear that such an alliance may not be viable. Alim had no desire to save Ferelden from the Blight only to have it tear itself apart after the fact because the royal tree was not producing the fruit that was expected of it.
The warden shook his head.
He had never desired the role of Kingmaker. The height of his ambition before joining the wardens was to have become First Enchanter of Kinloch Hold one day. Irving had certainly been grooming him for that role; with Solona as a close runner up should anything untoward happen to him.
The elf sighed.
Fate did have a way of screwing up people's plans.
She really was a cold and heartless bitch!
"We all have a lot of work ahead of us," he said to his fellows. "When things start happening at the Landsmeet they are going to happen fast."
His gave fell on Arl Eamon and Fergus.
"It is best that we all do not go to the Landsmeet together. I don't want to give Loghain a chance to wipe us out in one swift stroke. Fergus will go with Arl Eamon first, get the nobles ready for our arrival.
He turned to the Queen.
"I will arrange a special escort for you as well, Your Majesty. Howe maybe gone, but I wouldn't put it past young lady Cousland to try something…uncivilized against you before you get your chance to speak at the Landsmeet."
"A wise thought warden," she said nodding in approval.
"Indeed," Eamon said thoughtfully, "And where will you be while the rest of us are readying the battlefield so to speak?"
Alim smiled.
"I'll be escorting Alistair. I don't think for even a second that Loghain is just going to let us walk into the Landsmeet and plead our case. He will have some surprise waiting for us, and I don't intend to simply walk into it."
The elf sighed, and looked at his fellows.
"We walked into Loghain's trap once…never again."
The wardens, all who had lost much, since Ostagar nodded absently.
In this they were united.
Never again.
IOI
Alim made his way back to his room, his boots and staff clicking on the cobbles as climbed the short stair to the guest quarters.
He took a deep breath, trying to push back the dark thoughts that haunted him, the tension that now seemed to fill the air.
Word had begun to arrive from the noble of Ferelden, they were all ready to convene the Landsmeet, now all that remained was for the wardens and their allies to stand before the nobles and make their case, and for Loghain to make his.
The warden's ears twitched.
He did not consider himself a pessimist, but after everything they had faced since Ostagar, even with the evidence they had gathered to support their claims…
…He could still not completely banish the idea that they might not win this fight.
Loghain had ruled this city for months, what if he had made his own deals with the nobles, secret deals? What if they walked into the Landsmeet and found swords pointed at them? What if the nobles heard their arguments and still found for Loghain? If that happened, it was highly unlikely that any of them would be left to oppose the Blight.
Perhaps it would be better if Theron and Riordan did not attend. Jowan could go with them, take his joining in Orlais.
The warden mage shook his head.
If Loghain won, he did not believe for a moment that Ferelden would survive the darkspawn. Loghain would try and fight and his armies would no doubt kill many of the monsters, but in the end they would be overwhelmed. The Blight would continue to grow…unchecked.
Only killing the Archdemon would stop the Blight, and only a warden could kill an Archdemon.
He did not know why that was so, but he did not doubt the words.
If the Archdemon lived, Ferelden would fall. Ferelden would become a graveyard, no different than the deep roads, and the Archdemon would use it as a base to swell its numbers even more.
Then…it would take an alliance of nations to fight Blight. Even if the darkspawn were defeated then, there would be nothing that would be able to be done for Ferelden. It would be a fight that would leave their kingdom a broken wasteland.
He did not want that.
He had never wanted that.
He found himself thinking about all those that had fallen since he had first stepped out of the tower all those months ago. He thought of Cailan, the wardens, Duncan, Lord Harrowmont and his House. He thought of the mages lost to Uldred's depravity. He thought of the townsfolk that had fallen during the battles in Redcliffe. He thought of poor Connor Guerein. He thought of the elves taken from their homes by the Tevinters. He thought of all the people lost to Zathrian's curse, the ones he had been too slow and inexperienced to protect. He…he…
He swallowed hard.
He thought of Bellethiel. He remembered holding her as she died a hero to her people…
If he failed here, had all those deaths been for nothing?
Would they mean nothing?
He did not want to die, but if he had to…to save the others; that was a price he was prepared to pay. They had to live…
…Leliana had to live.
His elven ears lowered, a brief surge of anger pushed away any despair he had been feeling. For the briefest of moments he could almost hear his own voice, not the one that had spoken as a warden with Arls and Queens, but the voice of the newly harrowed mage that had given up everything to save his friends life.
The voice was not happy.
In fact…it sounded downright pissed.
What're you doing?
Preparing for the worst, he thought.
He could also see his younger self role his eyes at that.
You are such a little girl.
Alim winced at the thought, but his angry younger self refused to shut up.
If you lose, that will not be any fault of yours. You have done your duty, everything that has been expected of you. You found the Ashes of Andraste for fuck's sake. You have done the impossible and more. If the nobles are too blind or stupid to save themselves then there is nothing you can do about that.
Alim pursed his lips.
But Leliana?
Leliana understands the stakes here. Everyone who fights with you does. Death and defeat was always a possibility. Had that idiot Cailan realized that, then all this might never have come to pass.
Life is not like the tales. People can become heroes, but even heroes can fall.
He could almost imagine his younger self adjusting his hat and robes. He gave the warden that he had become since a wry smile.
We have come too far to give up now. Stay strong for Andraste's sake, the others still need you.
Leliana needs you.
That thought stopped him short.
Leliana still needed him.
Alim glanced around, no one was here. The conflict that had been raged in his head had gone observed by no one.
The elf took a steadying breath, mustering his courage.
Whatever happened, he would not run away. He would follow this through to the end, into the very fires of war and death, into the jaws of the Archdemon itself.
He had done everything he could to give Ferelden this chance, he could do no more.
Now…Ferelden had to decide to save itself, if it could.
Alim Surana, Surana Stormbreaker, Warden Commander of the Grey continued on his path. If the Landsmeet was bringing death, then tonight, he wanted to drink deep of life.
He smiled slightly.
There was a certain red haired lady in his quarters, a lady who had been denied his attention for far too long.
Tonight he intended to remedy that situation.
He hoped that she had had a chance to recover her strength from the battles earlier, he thought with an amused impish look.
Tonight, was going to be a very long night.
A/N: Next chapter the Landsmeet and Elissa Cousland returns with a vengeance. We are in the home stretch now dear readers; I hope you have enjoyed the ride. More with Coming Storm arriving soon, if you are interested, until next time!
DG