Author's note: I've actually finished the game, and I might take this fic all the way to the end... but if I do, I think I'll keep working in snapshots/slices of life like I've been doing, though perhaps on a smaller scale, rather than try a continuous narrative of every little thing to the end.
"I know it's strange to you, but reputation is the currency of politics in Orzammar," Liftrasa was explaining, yet again, to Morrigan after the latter had voiced yet another protest at helping the people, "Though all of the deshyrs know me, and most of them watched me grow up... warily, I should add," she said with a mirthless smile, "upon being exiled and stricken from the memories, I never existed, so they no longer know me, at least not publicly or politically. Instead I am the Grey Warden, as much an outsider as you and Alistair, and therefore must work from the ground up. I admit that it can be quite frustrating, but it's necessary to get what I want..." she turned her head to look at the mage raising a brow slyly, "Because the forces they send won't all be the armies of nobles, there will be volunteer forces, and what better way to inspire people to follow you, most likely to their deaths, than by inspiring them and making them want to follow you, because you are so very different, in a good way, from what they are used to?"
That was a very succinct, manipulative way to put it... and part of me wondered if she actually thought that way, or if she was just placating Morrigan. It seemed to work though, for the mage sighed and threw her hands up, "I am sure you know your people better than I," she said, "I simply wish to get this over with."
"What's wrong, Morrigan?" I taunted, "Feeling claustrophobic? Like maybe the ceiling will come down any moment? Or the cave will collapse, and trap you here forever, breathing hot air and rock dust for the rest of your limited days?"
She turned enraged eyes on me, and I felt rather proud of myself, "One does not expect a fish to be comfortable on land," she snapped, "nor does one expect a horse to be comfortable underwater, so your mocking is nothing more than a needless statements with the soul purpose of making you feel clever!"
"That's not true!" I protested, grinning, "My mocking also makes you mad, and that's a worthy goal right there, don't you think?"
"Pashaara! You are both wasting time with your incessant chatter!" Sten snapped, surprising both of us, "Will you not be silent, for even five minutes so the Warden can do what she must, and we can be finished?"
Too dumbstruck to respond, we stared up at the qunari in shock... allowing Liftrasa to respectfully approach a woman quietly, but fervently praying before a statue.
oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
"Alistair?"
"Yes Wynne?" We were watching the proving where Liftrasa was championing for Lord Harrowmont... and doing a damn fine job of it at that! She had just managed to take out the twins she had been set against with barely a scratch! It was easy to forget that she was a hardened warrior, fully capable of front line fighting, considering she usually let us bruisers wade in and do the heavy fighting while she flanked and did... tricky things. Of course, she had managed to do tricky things quite well in these fights too, since no one seemed to expect her to throw sand in their eyes and kick them in the forks... You'd think they would learn.
"What do you think about Liftrasa's current course of action?"
"I think it's pretty amazing that she just steps into a Proving again like she never left, and reminds them that she's the same unbeatable champion that left," I said, trying to keep most of the pride from my voice. I turned to look at the mage, and realized from a tight-lipped expression that I had missed the point. Oops. "But... that's not what you meant," I sighed softly, "She's taking a lot of actions, you have to be specific."
"Supporting Lord Harrowmont," she clarified, "I know that I am unfamiliar with the way the dwarven monarchy is handled, but with so many people set on Bhelen taking the throne, to the point where they attack us in the streets, would it not be wiser and a better guarantee for stability to put him on the throne after all?"
I stared at her in shock. She was the last person I would have expected to endorse a... murdering jerk. "I'm sorry," I said, not bothering to keep the anger from my voice, "but did I just hear the sweet old mage that often goes out of her way to be the group's moral compass advocating putting a fratricidal, lying, right dirty bastard on the throne, just because it's the easy thing to do?"
She flushed, though whether it was from anger or shame I wasn't sure, "That's not what I meant," she chided, "I meant that it's possible that, despite his past actions, Bhelen may very well be what Orzammar needs. He's made it clear that he's more than adept at these... awful political games, and even if none of us would call him a good person, he does seem to know how to handle the system here." As I continued to stare at her like she had grown a second head, she sighed, "What I mean is, do you think she's letting her personal feelings cloud the situation and is acting more out of a desire for revenge than a desire to create a stable situation for the people here?"
"I think," I said carefully, "that it is her decision what she should and should not do in this situation, because a) she's our leader, and we follow her will, and b) it's her country and her family involved, not ours, which effectively makes it none of our business."
She frowned, "Alistair, how can you say that? Of course it's our business, since it directly effects the allies we will have to call on in the final battle..."
"Both men would agree to send troops, I'm sure," I cut her off, "Though whether or not Bhelen actually would is rather up in the air, considering everything he's done, don't you think? If you're looking at it from a purely strategic point of view, it makes more sense to side with Harrowmont, since we know he can be trusted to honor his word..." I knew that Wynne didn't have the full story, so I forced myself to temper my anger a bit, "When she was turned out into the Deep Roads to die, Harrowmont gave her a shield and dagger, so she could at least die fighting. I don't know if she wants to put him on the throne in thanks, or to honor her father's last wish, or to spite Bhelen, or because she thinks it's the right thing to do strategically or morally, but I do know that I'm not going to question her in this," I held my hands up pleadingly, "Don't press her about it Wynne, I'm begging you. Just... let her do what she thinks is right here."
"Alistair..." she looked pained, but I cut her off anyway.
"You were at Ostagar. Did you see her when she first arrived? She didn't even have shoes, Wynne! Bhelen had her thrown to the darkspawn wearing only rags, and Harrowmont at least offered her an honorable death... which is directly what allowed her to fight her way to Duncan, and become a Grey Warden. If it hadn't been for him, then we wouldn't have any chance of getting any allies to help us with the Blight. Just... let it be."
"By that logic if Bhelen hadn't betrayed her, then none of that would have happened either," she pointed out with a sigh, "but I will keep my silence. You're right, though not for the reasons you perhaps think. Harrowmont is far more likely to honor his agreements than Bhelen, and even if it's not what's best for Orzammar, it's what's best for Ferelden."
I sighed in relief, "Thank you, Wynne," I said quietly, "Now let's never speak of this again, alright? We wouldn't want anyone to bring up this conversation with Liftrasa..." I shot a very suspicious look at Rurik... who whined and tilted his head in confusion, "I'm onto you," I warned him, "Toting tales about everyone... You're the biggest gossip in the camp!" The dog whined again, and Wynne chuckled. Crisis averted.
oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
"Alright," Liftrasa said, rubbing her face, "We have to stop... I'm so tired I can't even tell where I'm going anymore." I tried to keep the relief from my face as we came to a stop. I knew that the archdemon was singing as loudly in her blood as it was in mine, and on top of that, she had even less reason to sleep, when assassins sent by her brother might attack her in the night. "I can't even tell if we're making any progress..."
"What d'ya mean y'can't tell if we're makin' progress?" Oghren roared, "Y'been on the surface too long, and lost yer stone sense? You go soft among those nug-lovin' pike-twirlers up there? Or's all that light made y'go blind? It's as plain as the tits on her chest," he jerked a thumb to Morrigan, who scowled at him, "that we're gettin' closer to the thaig!"
I wondered some times where she found all of the patience she continuously showed in these situations, "It was merely a statement to demonstrate how tired I am, not an accusation that we've been lead wrong, or that we aren't getting anywhere. I'm tired Oghren, and as the only person that can spot and disassemble traps, I think it rather behooves me to not be too exhausted to notice them if we intend to live through this, don't you?"
"But Branka's still out there!" he protested immediately, throwing his hand out to indicate the tunnels, "We've seen her mark! How can you wanna stop when we're so close?" He took a deep breath to continue his tirade, and she held up her hand... That was all she did, I swear, she just held up her hand, and he froze.
"Warrior Oghren," well hello Lady Aeducan, welcome to the party, "I understand your plight, and I am doing my best to assist you, however none of us are of any use to anyone if we are exhausted. Branka has been in the Deep Roads for two years now, and I highly doubt that eight more hours will make much of a difference." He scowled, and would have protested again, but she made a slicing motion with her hand, "I'll not discuss this again! We have cleared out this cavern, and we will set watch so everyone will have a chance to get some sleep. I'll take first watch..." she looked over at Morrigan, "and she'll take last."
"Why d'you two get the best watches?" Oghren demanded.
"Because I must call for complicated magics from beyond the Fade and bend them to my will," Morrigan snapped, "and when I am exhausted, my aim gets a bit... shall we say erratic? You are magic resistant, dwarf, not magic proof!"
"Asschabs," he grumbled, "Fine, I'll take second to last watch," he continued to grumble as he stomped off, making the rest of us breathe a bit easier as his stink left the immediate vicinity.
"My we do have an amazing affinity for picking up filthy things, don't we?" Morrigan said snidely, "The dog, that dwarf, and let us not forget Alistair..." I opened my mouth to say something back... when Liftrasa suddenly burst into tears. For probably the first time in the entire journey, the mage and I shared identical shocked, helpless looks before turning our attention on our leader. "I..." Morrigan tried, her brows drawn together and looking genuinely distress, "I..." she shook her head, "I'll take my leave then," she finished lamely and quickly walked away, leaving me with holding the bag, as it were.
I looked down at our fearless leader, her face buried in her hands, and her shoulders shaking violently, and felt completely at a loss about what to do. "M-my dear?" I asked lamely, stepping closer to her, and putting my hands on her shoulders... when something that sounded suspiciously like a snicker escaped her. Suspicion bubbled inside me, and I leaned down a bit to hear better. She was... she was laughing! "What...?"
She wiped her face quickly and smirked up at me, her eyes still wet, but gleaming mischievously, "And Gorim told me being able to cry on command wasn't that useful," she smirked, "It shut you two up damn fast, didn't it?"
I frowned, "You evil little..." I shook my head, "I was worried!"
"I know," she said and patted me on the chest, "but I'm tired and frustrated, and that seemed like the quickest way to make you two stop," she held up a finger, "and it was, I should point out," she reached up and grabbed the front of my armor, and pulled me down to her level, so she could give me a kiss... which made me blush horribly, but I didn't exactly protest either. She released me and stepped back, "Now get some rest, I'm waking you up for next watch," with that she turned and walked over to the cavern entrance.
She lied... she didn't wake me up at all. She took my watch, and I was the only one that got to sleep the full eight hours, despite her insistence that she and Morrigan needed the sleep the most. I wasn't sure if I was mad at her about that, or touched... maybe she just wanted the extra time to think by herself for a while.
oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
The council room had exploded when Harrowmont was crowned with Caridin's relic... and when Morrigan started casting, that became less of an expression, and more of a reality. It didn't do much good, however, considering how often her spells were resisted. The guards waded into the fray, even as all the nobles took up the fight personally. Personally, I did my best to stay near Liftrasa. It would have been a fool to miss the way she was positioning herself to take on Bhelen personally once his guards went down. I did what I could to both clear her path, and block the way to keep others from reaching the siblings... and to my surprise, Oghren helped as well. I guess the twisted dwarven concept of honor really was important to the smelly little man.
The battle seemed to drag on forever, and I have no idea how many of the little devils I had beaten down with my shield. Let me tell you, dwarves were as resistant to being knocked on their asses as they were to magic! It probably had something to do with them being so close to the ground. They were right little bastards because of their weapons of choice too, great bloody mauls bigger than they were, that they wielded effortlessly. I took a swing to the chest, and ended up on my ass, wheezing desperately for air. I might have blacked out, because the next thing I knew, it was quiet in the council chamber, the only sounds those of people sheathing their weapons. "We won?" I muttered to no one in particular, still feeling a bit light-headed, "We did?" no one was attacking anyone, and people were walking away, so... "Yay!"
Morrigan was the only person close to me that I recognized, and she shot me a look so full of venom, a spider would be jealous. Or possibly a snake... Did I mention that I was kind of sure that I had cracked my skull when I fell? Because I think I had. I did notice that the look was even more hateful than usual, which I wondered at as I went back to looking around. It took me a second to spot Oghren, but he seemed perfectly happy to be annoying the guards, and trying to talk them into getting a drink with him. Someone was missing. Now who was it...
I sprang to my feet... or rather I tried to, because as soon as I was vertical, I was hit by a wave of dizziness and weakness as lights exploded behind my eyes. To my unending shock, it was Morrigan that came to my rescue, after a fashion anyway. She shoved her staff under my arm to give me something to prop myself up on, and I found myself nodding slightly in thanks... would wonders never cease. As soon as I realized I had done it, I shot her a suspicious look, trying to figure out what her angle was.
She sneered at me as a healing spell, which I hadn't known she could cast, hit me, "'Tis not for you," she muttered and yanked her staff away, making me stumble. She jerked her chin to the side, and I looked in that direction, picking out a single living armored dwarf among the corpses. Oh. Well, if nothing else, it was nice to know that the bitch cared about someone. I nodded and walked around her, heading for that single living person.
She was on her knees beside Bhelen's body, holding his hand and crying. I... couldn't understand why she was so upset, he had killed their older brother and done his damn best to kill her! I had watched him wade through the crowd, as determined to get to her as she to him! One blow from that huge maul would have...
She looked up at my approach, tears washing rivets in the blood splattering her face. She said something in dwarven, but I didn't understand it... hell the only time I'd heard her speak in dwarven at all was to swear. "He was my brother," she said in the common tongue, and I realized with horror that she must have read the confusion in my expression, "Whatever else he was, he was my brother!" she lowered her gaze to his face, and reached out with a shaking hand to brush the hair from his face... it almost broke my heart, "We used to... to play pranks on Trian as children," her voice faltered as a sob tore its way free, "He would... sneak into my room to... hide from his tutors..." her frame was shaking as she swallowed back more sobs, and lifted a hand to wipe her face, though all that did was smear about the blood, "He... he used to wonder..." she tried to use the back of her arm to wipe her eyes, but was met with the same lack of success, "if th-the ancestors forgave the p-people that wronged them, and w-welcomed them back into the Stone when their time came..." she shuddered again as she fought desperately to continue speaking, "I-I said it must depend o-on whether their honor w-was restored..." she looked up at me, for the world looking like some kind of embodiment of sorrow, "D-do you think I managed that?" she whispered, "D-do you think I-I gave them back their honor s-so they could welcome him?"
I... didn't know what to say, and it hit me that all the platitudes I knew would only comfort someone that believed in the Maker... and I didn't know if she did. She had never discussed it, and simply left the rest of us up to religious bickering. "I'm sure you did," I said and left it at that, since I was entirely in the dark on dwarven religious practices and beliefs, such as they were.
It didn't seem to help... Her eyes squeezed shut, "By the Stone, I've killed my House!" she moaned, "There are cousins left but... Oh, Paragon Aeducan... a-at least I'm fighting the d-darkspawn, as you did..." a sob escaped her, "One... last suicidal stand, no one thinks... will work..."
I still didn't know what to say, and I looked around desperately for help. To my surprise, it was Oghren that came over and put his hands on her shoulders, "Come on, Warden," he said gruffly, "He's with the Stone now, let them take the body away." I was startled to discover that there were more dwarves in the room, and they were indeed picking up the corpses and taking them away. I turned my attention back to my companions, and watched the berserker help her to her feet. I wished I had been the one to help her, but at least there was someone that could understand... after all he had just had to kill his wife. I turned and followed them once they walked by, and wracked my brain to try to think of ways to make this better... or at the very least less painful... if that were even possible... Probably not.