Author's Note: A Paragon of Her Kind. This portion of the tale will be spread over more than one chapter. Who to throw their weight behind? Bhelen or Harrowmont? Edward and co. must wrestle with this decision. First we have to deal with a certain bloodnut merchant.
Additional note - frantically busy IRL but still will try to continue this story. This chapter is quite short compared to the others.
Part 8.
"Alistair, I'm telling you, it's supposed to be red. Or orange if they're not quite ripe. How the hell did you get tomato soup to go grey?" asked Edward.
"Years of practice" said Alistair.
Edward looked around at his companions, who had had a rough night due to Alistair's latest culinary disaster. Thinking on it, Edward had only kept Alistair on cooking duty in the vain hope that he might get better. He even showed him how to make scrambled eggs one morning. Alistair had produced some unidentifiable crispy black mush. At least it wasn't grey.
"You realise we've lost half a day because of your... medicinal soup" continued Edward.
"I can't help it if your stomachs are too delicate for my cooking. I feel fine!" said Alistair, grinning.
"You eat enough cheese to block a privy, that's why" mumbled Edward.
"Alistair is a gifted cook" muttered Morrigan.
"You see! Even the witch appreciates my talent."
"I didn't say talented. I mean gifted enough to be the first person alive who can actually burn water" continued the witch. "I can see why you brought the assassin along, clearly you have no fear of poisons."
The light hearted grumbling continued as the group approached the gates of Orzammar. There was a veritable tent city set up around a circular dais below the steps that led up to the huge city doors.
"Sten - we should have a look for Faryn. Everyone else just have a look around, we can meet back here in fifteen minutes"
Edward and the qunari looked over at the closest stall, where a pair of dwarves were selling robes and other cloth goods. He spied some cloaks in the dwarves' stock, so while he purchased some, he asked the stall owner "tell me, friend, is there a stall holder in this place by the name of Faryn? He's a human with red hair, that's all we have to go on."
"Well, as you're buying a good amount of stock, I can throw you the information for free. Head up to the stairs, but just before you get there, take a right. He should be floating around there somewhere."
"Thanks, friend" replied the warden.
Gathering his string-wrapped bundle of goods, Edward and Sten soon found the tent of Faryn, and the man himself was slouched in front if his tent, snoozing. Edward tapped his boot with his foot, and the man's eyes snapped open. "Oh. 'ello to you. Anything I can do you for?" he asked, eyeing Sten carefully.
"What sort of stuff do you have here?" asked Edward.
"Oh, I got all kinds of nearly new weapons. Axes, swords, shields, you name it."
"Nearly new?"
"Well shall we say they've been 'broken in' and leave it at that?" he replied, his eyes flicking up to the qunari, as he nervously licked his lips.
Seeing this, Edward asked "what's the problem? Is my qunari friend here making you nervous?"
"I... oh shit. No nothing like that."
"Spill it Faryn, we know you were at lake Calenhad about a month ago. You found a qunari sword. His sword. We want it back, that's all."
"I did, yes sir you're right. But I sold it on the way here."
"You what?" growled Sten, narrowing his eyes.
"I sold it. To a collector in Redcliffe. A dwarf, name of 'Dwyn'. Andraste's knickers, I ain't got it no more."
Sten stepped forward, but Edward held up his hand. "He's telling the truth, Sten. Look at his hands, you've scared the shit out of him."
Sten looked at the traders' hands, and they were shaking like an alcoholic waiting for his morning drink. Satisfied, he backed off. The warden had delivered - again - and maybe in Redcliffe he could recover his sword.
"Thanks for the help, Faryn. Now tell me, have you got anything in the way of shields, my one's going to split soon. Also I need a scabbard and some whetstones with oils."
While Edward dickered with the merchant and bought some items, Sten wandered over towards the circular dais, and saw Leliana sitting there. He nodded and sat down beside her, knowing that he wouldn't need to say anything because the garrulous bard would start soon enough.
"I see you did not get your sword, Sten. Did you get another lead?"
"Yes. A place called Redcliffe."
"Ahh. That's where Alistair wants to go after we are done with the dwarves."
Sten nodded and murmurred "excellent."
Leliana tapped Sten on the arm and offered him a bag of cookies she had bought. "I know you like these" she said, as the qunari closed his eyes and sniffed his baked treats.
"Thankyou, Leliana" said Sten, before munching happily on his gift.
Edward came over with his bundle of goods and Zevran in tow. "Its' remarkable that it could have gone on for so long. How they get fresh food is beyond me" said Edward.
"But there it is, and dwarves are not known for sweeping changes" said the elf.
"What did you buy, Edward?" asked Leliana, seeing his bundle.
"Shield for me, and a few things for my friends - ah, the others are coming, so I'll pass them out here."
Edward laid his shield on the ground with a wrapped parcel above it. Opening the bundle of cloaks he had bought earlier, he shuffled through them. "Nereid and Morrigan already have cloaks, but I thought that with the cold weather you could all use one. Of course we're about to enter an underground city which is built over lava, but they'll be useful when we leave. Zevran, here's yours" he said, carefully passing a charcoal grey cloak to the elf. He passed a scarlet cloak to Wynne with a smile, and a grey one similar to his own over to Alistair.
"You know you don't have to do this, Edward. But thanks, I appreciate it" said Alistair.
"Sten, here's yours" said Edward, passing a bottle green cloak to Sten. Edward held out a royal blue cloak to Leliana, who smiled and stepped in to it, with Edward fastening the clasp around her neck.
-ooOOOOoo-
At the gates, a well spoken dwarf was speaking to a group of humans, and as the Wardens approached, they were able to make out the gist of the conversation. When they questioned the guard, he readily told them the news. Orzammar has no king, the previous one having passed on a few weeks ago. The Assembly which was responsible for choosing a new King was deadlocked. The Kings' son Bhelen and the Kings' top advisor Harrowmont were now each vying for the throne. Orzammar was closed for business!
When Edward said "the Grey Wardens have need of their traditional dwarven allies. I have a treaty here that formalises that agreement", the leader of the group of humans' eyes narrowed. Pointing an accusatory finger at Edward, he cried "the Wardens betrayed and killed our King! I demand that you arrest this ... stain on the honour of Ferelden!"
The dwarf sighed and stepped back to his comrades guarding the door. He clearly didn't give a shit. Zevran, who had been lounging at the back of the group, slipped stealthily up behind one of the other men, who he suspected was a mage. Edward saw the elf flicker out of sight and weighed up his options.
"I am the ambassador for King Loghain!" the leader of the men screeched.
Quickly closing the gap between them, Edward lunged at the ambassador, and locked one vice-like hand around his throat, giving it a good squeeze. His companions began to draw their weapons, but Zevran pointed a stiletto at the neck of the mage, who held out both hands in surrender. "You touch your weapons and this man dies. Ambassador or not, I couldn't care less" said Edward.
"Loghain ... will ... hear about ... this" the ambassador rasped. His clawing fingernails made no mark on Edward's steel gauntlets.
Locking his legs, Edward lifted the man by his throat, holding him a handspan above the ground. "You feel that? That's what it's like when they hang traitors like you. Run to your false king. Deliver a message, like the errand boy you are. Tell him that the Grey Wardens are building up to fight the blight. Tell him to stand with us or he will fall before us."
"I... as you... say, Warden" spluttered the ambassador. He heaved for air as his weight began to choke him. Edward dropped him and quickly rammed him back into his group. Zevran released the mage, and the ambassador's party stumbled away from the gates. Nereid and Leliana kept their bows trained on them as they half ran, half staggered down the hill.
The head dwarf guard approached Edward with a smile and shook his hand. "Five days I've had to put up with that bloody idiot on my steps. Warden, you've done me a great service. Now let me see the treaty you mentioned earlier."
Edward passed over the treaty, and the dwarf studied it carefully. "Hmm. It has the royal seal, so you can go inside. Be aware, Warden, nothing will happen until there's a king on the throne. I wish you success."
"King Loghain" muttered Edward, as they walked inside.
"I heard it too, Edward" said Alistair.
"Hard to believe that he can basically..." he looked around to make sure only Alistair and Nereid were in earshot before continuing, "...fuck over the army and the Wardens, gets the King killed and then before his body is cold he's named himself as successor."
"I thought his daughter was still the Queen" muttered Alistair.
"That's Anora - yeah I thought so too, seeing as she's Cailan's widow."
The conversation was interrupted by a strange scene as they entered the Commons. A clump of dwarves were arguing about who should be the next King. This was the first glimpse of the two contenders that the gate guard had mentioned. An altercation followed by raised voices and then raised weapons led to a dead dwarf on the floor. The mob scattered, each faction taking themselves to their respective bolt holes. An enterprising scavenger picked up the body and dragged it off somewhere, while a guard came forward to greet the Wardens.
"You see, this is why we don't let outsiders in while we're deciding on our king."
"What does it matter? We're not writing a bloody travel brochure" sighed Edward.
"Piece of advice for you, Wardens. Go to the Diamond Quarter. Visit the Shaperate and learn some of our history. You'll find Orzammar places great weight on tradition. While you're there you need to see Steward Bandelor, in the Chamber of the Assembly. He can fill you in on the wheeling and dealing that has happened so far."
Edward nodded his thanks. "Now if you don't mind, I've got to find someone to clean up these bloodstains" said the guard, and with that he wandered off.
Nereid took the front with Huolir, and she soon sound a quiet looking inn. That wasn't very hard to be honest, because of the blocked city gates there was no real call for inns. As an added bonus, the innkeeper was able to house the ten in the group in five rooms. Alistair and Morrigan had their own smaller rooms, Sten shared with Zevran, while Wynne, Nereid and Huolir bunked down in a slightly larger room opposite the room shared by Edward and Leliana. Shale was content to rest at the head of the stairs.
In the common room downstairs, Edward suggested a plan. There was no King, and they needed a King to promise troops against the Blight. "There's two candidates and we have to choose one" said Edward. "What we will do is go to the Chamber of Assembly first and talk to the Steward. He might tell us how to talk to these candidates. Alistair, Zevran and Leliana will come with me for that."
His friends nodded.
"Sten and Nereid, we need to find armourers. Some of our gear is in poor condition and needs re-edging or just flat out replacing. Can you have a look around and see what you can come up with?"
"Sure, Edward. We need to restock on strings and arrows too. Leli and I were talking about this yesterday" said Nereid, looking over at the bard.
"That's fine. Sten knows what we need. Morrigan, can you go with them too. Lyrium should be easy to get here, and they may have some magic items that can help yourself and Wynne."
Morrigan inclined her head, and Edward passed her a coin pouch.
"Wynne and Shale, I'd like you to go to the Shaperate. From what the innkeeper says, it's like a library. There might be something that the Shaper of Memories can help us with."
"If this Shaper is not useful, what are we to do then?" asked Shale.
"We'll be close by, come and find us at the Chamber of Assembly."
The group mumbled amongst themselves, each fairly comfortable with their tasks. Morrigan slid the coin pouch over to Nereid. "Now after the last week or so of walking up a mountain, and Alistair's attempt to kill us all by diaorrhea, after we get these jobs done, I think we have earned a rest, so we can all take the rest of the day off. I'm sure there's interesting things to do" said Edward, glancing at Leliana.
Everyone seemed to think this was a fine idea, and as they filed out in three groups, Edward wondered how the hell he and his friends had gone from sleeping in a tent to potential kingmakers in less than a day. The Maker works in mysterious ways, indeed.
-ooOOOOoo-
Edward looked over Orzammar from the room he was sharing with Leliana. He had removed and cleaned his armour, and had been painting a device on his new shield. The whole group seemed pleased to be able to rest for half a day after the steep, week-long trek up the mountains. Even Shale appeared to be happy, the golem was over with Wynne having another chat with the Shaper of Memories. Turning back to his shield, he tested to see if the white paint was dry yet. It was still tacky, so he returned to the vista over the city. It was a strange place, this Orzammar. To Edward it seemed like the opposite of a city. On the surface, you start with a blank space and you build stuff on top, eventually filling in the gaps. Down here, you started with a block, and hacked out the space, leaving the buildings behind. It was all topsy turvy.
The initial meetings with the guards and the Speaker of the Assembly hadn't gone well. The two stand out dwarf candidates for the throne were Bhelen Aeducan, son of the last king; and Pyral Harrowmont, his last advisor. There were all kinds of rumours floating around. Bhelen killed his brothers. Bhelen was barred from seeing his father as he lay dying. Harrowmont poisoned the king. Bah, it looks like the Grey Wardens would have to solve the diminutive dynastic dilemma themselves, he thought.
Edward, Alistair, Leliana and Zevran had met with both of the right hand men - the 'seconds' of the kings-in-waiting. Edward thought Vartag Gavorn, Bhelen's second, was an arrogant, conniving little shit. Harrowmont's second, Dulin Forender, was a lot more agreeable, but he had to agree with Zevran that Harrowmont seemed the weaker of the two candidates. However Edward knew that these dwarves didn't really matter in the grand scheme of things, as once the Wardens were dealing with the Prince and Lord Harrowmont, the seconds were irrelevant. They were glorified bouncers, nothing more.
"Ahh, there you are!" came a familiar voice from behind him.
"I'm always impressed by how quietly you can move, Leliana" said Edward, half turning towards the bard.
"What were you doing - oh, you're painting your shield" she said.
"I'm waiting for it to dry a bit more before I put on the last part. I was thinking about these dwarves."
"Anything I can help with?" asked Leliana, moving up beside Edward.
"Look out there. They built this marvellous place out of solid rock" gestured Edward. "But now they can't even pick a king."
"It is beautiful, in a way. It seems so vast, especially from up here" said Leliana, facing towards the view.
Edward slipped his arms around Leliana's waist from behind, leaning her back on his chest. He gave her a friendly kiss on the neck. "You know, I got a lecture from Wynne about us" he said.
"Really? What did she say?"
"A Warden's duty comes before all else, that sort of thing. She wanted me to think about ... if I was in a situation where your life was in the balance, what would I do. I think she was trying to get me to back off, to not get too involved."
Leliana's heart skipped a beat, and carefully she asked "what did you say back?"
"I laughed. I told her I was already way past that stage. I told her I loved you."
"You what?" said Leliana, turning around with a smile on her face.
"Come on, Leliana, you know it's true. Of course I do. Then I told Wynne that there was a poet called Russell who once said 'to fear love is to fear life, and those who fear life are already three parts dead'. Given her ... situation ... I thought it might give her something to chew on."
Leliana's eyes were shining, and she was beaming at Edward. Looking at the bard, he said "even just looking at you here, I know I said the right thing."
"Of course you did, and you don't need to ask. I love you too" said Leliana. She turned her gaze upwards, and her lips found Edwards' as they kissed deeply.
