Disclaimer: Chapter one.

I had actually finished this chapter before publishing the first. I wanted to make sure some other stories were updated before starting up a new story, since I didn't want to scare my readers into thinking I've abandoned Mass Effect. So, you know, I decide to update like a maniac, instead!

"Since the city was not adorned as the dignity of the empire demanded, and it was exposed to flood and fire, he so beautified it that he could justly boast that he had found it built of brick and left it in marble."

- Suetonius, The Lives of the Twelve Caesars: Augustus. 121 AD

Bhelen was right about one thing; it was easy for the Grey Warden to get followers for her house once she announced membership was possible and we was open to bringing in castless. More than a few were already hearing rumors (planted by the king's soldiers, no doubt) that she was looking for courtiers as well, and there were many men who were... eager to fill the position, so to speak. They didn't even shirk when she revealed her plan to go into the Deep Roads and found a thaig; indeed, attention flocked to her, and she found herself inundated with support from all sides. Apparently, they'd already forgotten their last Paragon's failure and were eager to cheer on a new one.

And, to be honest, after she had time to think about it, she was coming to very much like the idea. She even had a few ideas on where she'd like to go, and had been conferring with the Legion and the Shaper to zero in on where she wanted to march.

Rica, Bhelen, and even Kalah had blanched at the idea she had. She aimed to conquer the tunnels dug by the darkspawn, something that was already difficult in and of itself, but what really took the blood out of their faces was the tunnels she planned to take.

"Have you been breathing smoke? Yer trying to get yerself killed!" Kalah shouted and sneered; becoming sober didn't necessarily civilize her, it turned out. "Who is actually stupid enough to try to take the Dead Trenches!"

"It's not that insane. I'll only be taking one trench, and I'd gone through the fortress of Bownammar myself and helped the Legion retake several of the bridges." Stehldye reminded.

Rica cut in, worry and panic almost pouring from her. "But you're not talking about the bridges or even Bownammar. You're talking about taking one of the chasms themselves. Even in history when we had a firm hold of City of the Dead, we didn't have the chasms. If it wasn't full of darkspawn, it'd be plagued with other horrors. I still remember when you told me of when you looked down and saw the army of the Blight below." She shivered.

"Right, and now that the Blight is over, their numbers can't be nearly as numerous now as they were then. If there was a perfect time to take it, it would be now. I've been speaking with Kardol and he agrees that their numbers have reduced dramatically and has promised the full support of the Legion. And I've been speaking with several smithies to quote some orders to outfit who I need, and a couple even expressed interest in joining and keeping us supplied and repaired. Add on the support Ferelden has given to Orzammar and I can have a proper army for the undertaking within a week at most."

"And you can afford this?" Bhelen tried. The man was stuck between the anxiety of losing his trump card and the thrill of what it would mean to have such a victorious founding within his reign.

"My purse has gotten heavy with sovereigns since Amaranthine; nobles have been throwing money at me from left and right to have their issues resolved in the arling. It's a better way of earning money than the damn chantry boards ever were. Besides, you know very well I know a thing or two about leading and outfitting an army, and I've never had such an easy time of it as I have now."

"But this is a suicide mission!" Rica turned to her husband, "Please, Bhelen! Talk some sense into her!"

"It's very risky," the king spoke slowly, measuredly, "but if anyone could do this..."

"Bhelen!"

"I'll start out ahead with a small band so we can start getting footholds for everyone else to fill in," Stehldye continued, "That will allow me to begin immediately and give the army more time to gather and get in formation behind me, in case there are any last minute changes like there always are. I'm going to trust the commanders I worked with during the battle at Denerim to make sure everything is set; I've worked with them before, and I feel confident in their abilities. Of course-" She turned specifically towards Bhelen. "-I need the Legion to assure complete success since they know the stone there the best, so I need your approval."

"Bhelen," Rica pleaded again.

"I... will allow it." Tears spilled from Rica's eyes and she gasped.

Stehldye, on the other hand, beamed gratefully. "Wonderful. I'll go now and get to work; I'll let you know when I'm going in and how long after that you can expect the army to follow. Just send word to the Legion; they'll know what to do." She left, a clatter of volcanic aurum. Rica left soon after, fleeing to her bed chambers.

Kalah slid her eyes over to the king and sniffed.

Bhelen left to his offices.

"So, Varel tells me the commander will be a while."

Oghren looked at Nathaniel from where he was working on his brew. "She say what errand her brother-in-law has her on, now?"

"She's apparently off 'founding a thaig'. That's a settlement, isn't it? She seems to think it won't take very long, but I would suspect all the building..."

"Depends if she's building it from scratch or claiming an old one, and either way, I'm sure she'd be leaving the building part to the settlers. She'd just be... what do you call it... trailblazing."

"You don't call it trailblazing in Orzammar?"

"We don't need a word for cracking darkspawn skulls until they go away."

Nathaniel sighed. "Well, that is definitely a skill she has in spades. I suppose you're right; she may be back in a fortnight. Though Varel said something about getting rooms prepared for her..." He paused to remember the word. "...courtiers when she comes back?"

"Whoo, that so?" He chuckled as he worked. "Heheh, about time. I wonder if Bhelen is pushing them on her or if she's just collecting them for fun."

"I'm going to regret asking..." Anders approached, "...but what is a courtier supposed to be in this context?"

"You know, male concubine. Gigalo. Boytoy. Except a Paragon like her's gonna have a whole harem of them."

Anders smiled a nice, wide leer. "Oh! Then I retract my prior statement."

Nathaniel wasn't as amused. "She does know people get hanged for adultery in Amaranthine?"

"Yeah, yeah. You sodding Fereldans always have to be such prudes. And they're perfectly legal in Orzammar, for your information. Hell we need them; we don't breed every time we bump uglies like you humans, and having children is a hell of a lot more important to us than 'keeping the line pure'. I'll tell you, Orzammar might be backwards about a lot of things, but sex ain't one of them."

"Why are we talking about sex in Orzammar?" Orr was approaching, having just finished some chores that had been delegated down to him as the newest recruit. His breeches at the knees were still damp with soapy water.

The Warden-Constable didn't even look up from where he was working. "Like you'd remember. I bet you forgot the pleasantries along with your Stone Sense."

Anders, ever helpful, supplied the catch-up to the conversation. "Our dear Commander of the Grey has let us know she may be coming back with some courtiers, and our dear Howe is worried it may reflect badly on her. I, for one, look forward to it. I bet being a courtier is a lot of fun. Say, you think she'd take in a human mage to the party?"

"Her?" Oghren snorted. "Probably. And that Antivan elf if he ever shows up."

Orr, instead of being amused or at the least agreeable to the main focus of the discussion, took on a sour face. "Excuse me a moment."

Oghren finally pulled his head out of the cask. "Huh? Hey, you ain't sore about the Stone Sense jab, are ya'?"

"I think it was the courtier discussion. Could be it's a sensitive issue?" Anders added, almost as an afterthought. "Or maybe he's a little jealous. He's a dwarf man coming to join under the dwarf woman's banner, after all."

"Naaah, I don't think he's jealous. I can hear the Howe boy shaking in rage since the subject came up, though."

"Me?" Nathaniel said, scandalized.

"The constable has a point," Anders agreed conspiratorially. "And don't try to deny it. You're always just a few words away from saying something stupidly serious to her. You'd best be careful the king doesn't catch wind of it or you may find yourself joining your father."

"Why should I have to worry? You're the one constantly flirting with her and talking about joining her... brothel."

They didn't respond to that. Instead they both just grinned big, wide, shit-eating grins.

"To the Void with you both!" He hissed, frowning even as an angry blush flared all the way down his neck. "I'm going to go prepare the rooms for her courtiers."

As he marched off, Anders snickered towards Oghren. "I told you we should form a club! It'll be good for the dour chap to get ganged upon."

There were a lot more humans and other topsiders in Orzammar now than there had been the first time Alistair had come, but he still felt like he stuck out like a sore thumb. He was glared at no less than three times on his way to the Royal Palace in the Diamond District, and though part of it he was sure had to do with no one recognizing him in this shoddy armor, it did bring him unpleasant memories of how poorly they treated Dye here during her first return.

Intuiting that it would just get worse from this point on, he removed his helmet to allow his face to be seen as he approached the door. The change in attitude was immediate; the guards looked suitably abashed and made sure he had room to pass.

Inside, he had passed many house members and attendants before hearing the distinct and alarming cries of a woman. The training the chantry pressed into him on how to be a gentleman seized him, and he was torn shortly on whether or not it was his place to interfere, but he erred on the side of being a decent person and finding out what was wrong. He followed the cries and found a familiar red head buried in the shoulder of her mother.

"...Rica?" Alistair spoke with caution. The woman looked up from where she wept and flung herself up towards him, her mother rising with her.

"King Alistair!" She sniffed and rubbed her eyes in a vain attempt to make herself look presentable. "I-I didn't know you were coming. Pardon my... forwardness, but please tell me you've come to stop her."

Don't panic. Don't panic. You don't know what she's talking about and you're just nervous since it's been a while since you last saw them. "Stop... who? Dye?" His voice hitched high. Damn. "Is she... doing something she shouldn't be?"

"She's going on a suicide mission straight into the sodding horde in the Dead Trenches!" Kalah spat angrily. "That stupid girl!"

"Horde? The trenches?" DON'T PANIC. He tried to speak slowly, to keep his cool. Instead it made his voice come out in a series of halted squeaks. "She... went into the Deep Roads on a..." He didn't finish, because surely he misheard.

"A sodding suicide mission!" Kalah repeated, stomping her foot. "Didn't give us any damn mind, either! Just ran off with the Legion of the Dead to get herself killed! And all because our idiot king got that idea in her head-"

"Aha! King Alistair!" Bhelen was now rushing into the room, Vartag Gavorn in tow. They looked to have been in a hurry to get back from wherever they had been. "Had I known you were coming, I would have made sure you'd receive a proper welcome for your arrival."

Alistair, whipped around. "Where is Stehldye?"

"Ah, I was actually just about to send out a letter to you for her, but since you're here..."

"Bhelen!" Alistair approached and, intentional or not, towered intimidatingly over the dwarf king with all his height. "Where. Is. She?"

Vartag pulled out his weapons at the implied threat, but Bhelen, for his worth, looked up at Alistair and didn't bend back or show any sign of being shaken. "Of course. Let me take you to our War Room. We can discuss everything more thoroughly there."

"The... War Room?"

"Certainly. She's informed me of all her intentions in the new thaig, since she needed my approval. I can show you exactly where she's going and how you can catch up with her."

Alistair quieted, and though the walk was terse and (he suspected) longer than it needed to be, it did serve to calm him down. He was brought to a large, low desk with several different large parchments strewn across it. Bhelen, invited Alistair to do so as well, and went Vartag away. The right-hand-man didn't appear to want to leave at first, but he relented with a bow of the head.

"I was just coming back from seeing her off, when I heard you had come, so I apologize for the rush. Now, see here." He pulled out a map that, Alistair recognized after a moment, was probably Bownammar for all the bridges. "The first trench here is where she intends to attack. The numbers from the darkspawn have decreased significantly enough from the Blight that she believes she can press through and take the trench itself. After this is done, she intends to hold it until proper fortifications are made, and turn this trench into a new thaig."

"She's... founding thaigs, now?"

"It's not such a strange thing for a Paragon to do," Bhelen responded, and then proceeded to bring Alistair up to speed on the plan, explaining the followers she had gathered and the resources she had at her disposal. "And to be honest, when I approached her with the idea, I didn't think she'd take on an entire trench, but her confidence convinced me."

"So, this is your doing? You're not in the least bit worried about what might happen?"

The lines on the other king's face tightened nearly imperceptibly before they fixed back in their place again, and Alistair could almost swear he'd seen something of Bhelen's true feelings in there. "If she should come to fail, our family would be in mourning, but there are things that even a king doesn't question of a Paragon."

Alistair looked back down and imagined the lines that were drawn, but over that could still clearly remember the first time he'd entered the Deep Roads, the churning river of torch-lit darkspawn, and the oppressive emergence of the Archdemon.

And that's precisely where she's going, into the middle of the horde. "I'll set out for her immediately."

Bhelen nodded and stood. "I'll have Vartag find you suitable armor from my own supply for you and he will accompany you."

"That isn't necessary-"

"I insist. What sort of host would I be to let you into the Deep Roads in that shoddy grey iron with no guide? Don't worry; Vartag's Stone Sense is excellent and he will catch you up to her quickly. And that will give me just enough time for us to discuss the other duty to her new house I'd brought to her attention."

"Please tell me it's not going to make this first one look trivial in comparison."

"It may. I have heard of the effect of the Taint on a Grey Warden's fertility." He opened the door and poked his head out to give the necessary orders while Alistair processed that.

"Fertility?" Alistair mumbled, more to himself than Bhelen. "So, she is... expected to..."

"Much like your situation, I understand. You've been looking to marry a queen and obtain an heir for the crown, right? Though from what I've heard, you've been dragging your feet about it. It's too bad that concubines are frowned upon on the surface. You may be able to get one much more quickly otherwise, and then you'd be free to marry who you wished." He shrugged.

"I... suppose. So, is Stehldye going to be taking... concubines?"

"We tend to call the males 'courtiers', but yes, that's the idea. It's necessary, for her house but for our own race's dwindling numbers. I also need her to review some offers for marriage, but we haven't really had the chance yet before she threw herself into the new thaig."

Alistair was sure his face was scrunched up in a deep frown, but he couldn't school his muscles out of it. Well, I can't very well fault her, can I? Though the more he thought about it, the more he thought about her attitudes towards sex. Zevran, the Pearl, whoever it was she managed to find in Eamon's estate at Denerim... he said he cared about where her feelings lie, and that was true, but he couldn't help but think she saw the "courtier" part of the arrangement might be more of a perk than a duty.

This is what I get for leaving her alone so long while looking for a wife, isn't it?

Bhelen's voice brought him back to the conversation. "I thought, considering how... close the two of you are, you should be made aware of the situation."

"Yes, well, now I am," Alistair sighed and shook his head. "I'm sorry. I mean... thank you, for letting me know. You're of course being the damned picture of hospitality, and here I am barreling through like an ungrateful, headstrong barbarian."

Bhelen waived it away. "You're worried about her. It's understandable. I was actually going to be sending out her mail for her upon my return, but I should give you her response to your last letter now." He pulled out a thick stack of vellum and handed Alistair one.

Alistair would have commented on why a king would be running such an errand, but the brilliant, almost glowing blue of the wax seal took his attention. "What's this?"

"The new seal of House Brosca. We've even mixed the same lyrium-byproduct used as the pigment in that warpaint she prefers into the wax. I convinced her she should use it on all her correspondence with you from now on. Seeing as you're King of Ferelden."

"I-I see..."

"You know, when she left, she also insisted on bringing your last letter with her, even though I'm certain she's already read it."

He gaped and felt a flush run up his forehead and down his chest, then groaned and leaned back. "Andraste's flaming sword, she told you about that, didn't she?"