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Watching the flames dance before her eyes had done little to ease the strain from Marie's shoulders. She sat inches away from the camp fire, her posture as rigid as it had been when she first sat down two hours before. Marie's eyes once again glanced towards Alistair's tent. Her fellow grey warden had not emerged since retreating when they received the news, the news that the man who could have been their greatest ally against Loghain, was dead. The man who, after Duncan, was the closest Alistair had to a father, would never be seen again. Marie had wanted to comfort him, to hold him in her arms like she had when he had finally wept for Duncan and his warden brothers. But the way he had looked at her, the anger, hurt and hatred in his eyes had made her flinch back and pull her hand to her chest as though he had thrust it into the campfire. After that she had been too fearful to approach the tent, afraid that the look had not been a fleeting moment, that he truly did hate her.
"I will never understand these humans who believe killing each other is an effective way to destroy a common enemy," Sten muttered on his side of the camp fire.
"The Arl was a good man and his son still very young, it is a great shame," Wynne added in a firm voice, clearing disapproving of Sten's tone. The qunari didn't even glance at her. Wynne enquired after the arlessa and her son, to which Zevran sighed and rubbed his nose.
"It appears she has fled to Orlais, which will do wonders for the accusations made against her late husband," the Antivan explained, his voice coated with sarcasm. Were her heart and mind less troubled, Marie would have rolled her eyes in exasperation. There had been whispers of dealings with Orlais, dealings orchestrated by Eamon. Marie, and anyone who had ever known the Arl would know the rumours were false. But his wife's retreat to their former rulers would only fan the flames. Marie had only encountered Arlessa Isolde a few times but that had been more than enough.
"When the accusations spread I doubt his allies will take long to declare their loyalties elsewhere, " Zevran added. Oghren chuckled.
"Feels like I'm back in Orzammar," the dwarf chuckled, his usual evening drinking unaffected by the news. Marie once again felt the bitter sting of Ferelden politics. It seemed more so than ever that loyalty was only granted to those from whom it paid. She knew her father would be turning in his grave...if he had even been granted one.
She looked up from the campfire when she heard Alistair leave his tent. He met no one's eyes, only stooping to pick up the gloves he had been mending before turning back towards his tent.
"Alistair?" He stopped and slowly turned to his fellow warden. By now all eyes in the camp were watching them, even Morrigan's.
"What?" he snapped, anger still coating his voice, "what does our fearless leader want now?" Marie felt a lump rise in her throat.
"Alistair," Leliana began in a reproachful tone and Alistair's gaze snapped to the redhead.
"What? Got something to add? Something to explain why she made us wait for so long to come to Redcliffe? Why she let the Arl die?!" Marie barely stifled her gasp at the accusation.
"Alistair!" Wynne gasped, stunned by the young man's anger.
"I should mind your words, my friend," Zevran warned the blonde warden. He did consider Alistair a friend but the bond between the Antivan and Marie ran deeper than anything he had ever had before and he would not allow threats against her to reach his ears, not from anyone. The tension in the camp grew with every spoken word. Morrigan had approached from her own fire while Bodhan and Sandal had retreated into their wagon. Even Sten and Shale seemed surprised by the exchange.
"I wanted to come here weeks ago!" Alistair cried, now addressing Marie directly, "I wanted to come here as soon as we knew he was sick but you insisted we go to every bloody place on the map except Redcliffe! Why?! Did you want to let him die? One less noble to stand in your way when you bring the Cousland name back?!"
The sound of the slap echoed across the camp and every pair of eyes widened in shock. After taking a moment to recover Alistair turned back to see Morrigan stood in front of him, her eyes burning with fury.
"Listen to me you brainless, pathetic excuse for a half-wit," Morrigan hissed, her face barely three inches from Alistair's, "you were the senior Grey Warden, you could have led this group, you could have given the orders...you chose not to, you chose to place that burden on her shoulders, to push her forward into a darkspawn riddled civil war...and now you think you have the right to question her judgement when you were so quick to abandon your own? It's a little late to show you have balls now-"
"Morrigan, stop," Marie quietly interrupted. The apostate turned to look at her only friend in the world and felt the anger build when she found Marie's face filled with sadness. Sensing her friend's mood, Marie spoke again.
"Stop, please," she begged softly before retreating to her tent. She heard rather than saw Alistair walking out of camp and laid down on her bedroll before finally, out of sight of her companions, allowing herself to silently weep.
...
The former Lady Cousland emerged from her tent as the sun was rising. Zevran, Sten and the dwarf merchants were already awake, while Shale was still maintaining her night-long watch. Marie glanced at her fellow rogue with concern and he nodded towards Alistair's tent. Marie sighed with relief before going to see what Bodhan had prepared for breakfast. The dwarf had proven to be a very capable caretaker and against her better judgement she had grown quite fond of the pair.
"Good morning," Leliana greeted those who had awoken ahead of her. The red head sat beside Zevran and Marie didn't miss the Antivan's slight smile. When Alistair left his tent she immediately looked away, still too hurt to risk meeting his eyes.
"So, what's the plan?" Shale asked in her usual aloof tone when everyone sat around the extinguished campfire. Marie shrugged her shoulders before aiming another kick at Oghren's legs. The hungover dwarf merely growled before rolling over and falling back to sleep.
"May I make a suggestion, my dear?" Zevran spoke up and Marie nodded with a smile. Zevran returned the smile and continued.
"Though I doubt it would be much use to our singing assassin here," the Antivan nodded towards Leliana, who raised a curious eyebrow, "I believe it would do you and I a great deal of good to learn a few new fighting techniques, especially as our foes only seem to be getting stronger," he explained.
"We don't have a great deal of time, Zev..." Marie argued, though the chance to further advance her skills was appealing.
"The tutor I propose would need very little time at all, she has never had a problem...getting down to business..." Zevran added with a smirk. The two lady rogues rolled their eyes, knowing exactly what he meant.
"Where is this 'tutor'?" Leliana asked.
"Denerim," Zevran replied. Half of the camp's occupants groaned.
"So, the small-featured elf wants us to walk straight into the lion's den, does he?" Shale asked dryly.
"Small-featured?" squeaked the offended Zevran. The others ignored him.
"The capital is surely where the regent is at his strongest," Sten pointed out and a finally awake Oghren muttered his agreement.
"But it would also be the best place to gather information and judging by...recent events, we certainly seem to be in the dark," Wynne argued softly and none could deny her logic. Marie noticed Alistair had spoken a word in support or opposition but still wouldn't look towards him. This decision was hers.
"Alright, Denerim it is then,"
Marie sheathed the dagger she had been twirling in her fingers and stood. When she began to pack her things the rest of the camp did the same, trusting that the woman who had led them safely so far would lead them boldly to their next destination.
...
Not wishing to venture near the enemy strongholds of Gwaren and Amaranthine, the gang reluctantly set out across the middle of Ferelden, cutting through small parties of darkspawn as they skirted around the top of the invading blight. They travelled around the border of South Reach. Though Marie suspected that Arl Bryland would be hospitable to them, it wasn't a chance she was willing to take on a whim. Hopefully the information they would gather in the capital would give them a greater idea of the nobles who might still be sympathetic to their cause.
"I'm just saying those knots in your back could easily be rubbed out, my dear, all it would take is a pair of skilled han-" Zevran paused in his latest attempt to woo Leliana when Marie held up her hand for silence. The hairs on the back of her neck had risen, the familiar, bitter taste swirled across her tongue and the air around her seemed closer. She quickly looked towards Alistair. He met her eyes and nodded. That exchange was all the others needed to assume combat positions. Leliana sneaked towards a small rock formation, aiming for higher ground where her bow would be effective. Wynne and Morrigan found open space on opposite sides of the clearing while Marie and Zevran prepared to dart away from wherever the darkspawn appeared first.
The first group of hurlocks burst out of the bushes with their usual blind aggression. Leliana's arrow felled the first before it could even choose a target. The rest headed straight for the heavily armoured warriors. Leliana's song of courage echoed across the clearing and Marie and Zevran smiled at their fellow rogue's heavenly voice. The grey warden arched her upper body backwards in time to miss the Hurlock general's mighty blade and sank her dagger into its stomach but this left her no time to avoid the blight wolf that leapt onto her chest. Crying out in pain as the wolf's weight pushed her to the ground, Marie lifted her blade but the creature grabbed her wrist between its teeth. Marie attempted to pull her arm away while the creature tried to tear its way through her drake scale gauntlet. Another wolf approached and prepared to leap at her, only to be brutally bashed away by a heavy metal shield. Marie finally reached her other dagger and sank it through the first wolf's neck. Rolling the body off her, she stood up in time to see Alistair despatching the second wolf. He glanced her way and she offered a small smile before moving onto her next target.
"You will learn to fear me!" Morrigan hissed as she brought down three genlocks with one bolt of lightning. The others winced at the stench of burning darkspawn flesh. Several hurlocks found themselves frozen on the spot before being shattered by Wynne's stone fists. Most of the remaining darkspawn that weren't having their innards butchered by the three warriors found themselves with arrows or daggers in their backs. The unfortunate few that didn't share that fate were left to have their guts literally burst from their bodies as Shale took great delight in squeezing them between her palms.
"They never learn to run, do they?" Zevran noted, smirking despite the blood splattered across his cheek.
"We haven't seen blight wolves venture this far from the Brecilian forest before," Sten pointed out in his usual post battle assessment.
"Which can only mean..." Marie began.
"...the blight is building," Alistair finished, the two wardens sharing a concerned look.
"It's getting dark, may I suggest we set up camp so I can tend to all your injuries?" Wynne suggested and on Marie's agreement the rogues began pitching tents on the far side of the clearing while the warriors disposed of the darkspawn corpses.
The sun had set by the time they were healed, clean and fed. Marie sat by the campfire, stretching out her weary legs and examining the repairs she would need for her gauntlet. She avoided looking up when Alistair sat beside her.
"I'm sorry," he eventually spoke, leaving all the explanation Marie needed in the tone of his voice. She would ask him about his last words with Arl Eamon. For now, she shuffled closer and allowed her best friend to wrap his arm around her shoulders. Hateful words, though not quite forgotten, were forgiven and the two discussed the remainder of their journey to Denerim.
...
Even with their small group, entry through the city gates was surprisingly easy. The guards, and indeed everyone in the city, seemed too preoccupied or on edge about something to pay strangers any notice. Despite this though, Marie was glad that in light of the large crowds they had chosen to leave Oghren, Sten and Shale behind. Wynne had elected to stay at camp and keep an eye on them.
The crowds seemed to build the closer they moved towards the market, more so than the usual trade would draw. All of them seemed to be competing for a view. Curious as to what could draw such a large crowd in uncertain times, Marie gestured for Zevran to come with her, while Alistair and Leliana looked for another vantage point. None of them knew where Morrigan was but trusted she would join them again later. Spotting a porch set out from one of the town house doors, Zevran nimbly climbed up and waited for his warden companion to follow, smirking as she pulled her hood close. When the two looked towards the centre of the market they saw a large platform had been erected. On it stood an official and a foreboding looking man in black.
"Oh dear..." Zevran muttered darkly. The official rolled up his parchment, clearly finished delivering the charges of which the defendant had already been found guilty. When the condemned man was dragged up the wooden steps by his two unsympathetic guards, it wasn't until the wind blew the hair from his face that Marie released a gasp.
"No..." she whispered, watching as Ser Perth was forced to his knees. When Marie began to move Zevran held her arm in a firm grip.
"It would do no good, Marie, I count at least thirty royal guards, in the crowd and along the rooftops," he muttered urgently, his genuine concern replacing the usual suave tone.
"He's a good man, I can't just let him die!" Marie hissed as she scanned the crowd for Alistair.
"There is nothing you can do to save him, the platform is too open to steal him away and any attack would be death for all of us," the Antivan insisted and Marie felt her heart clench under the weight of his words. When she finally found her fellow warden she saw Leliana on a similar mission to Zevran, as Alistair clearly wanted to intervene. He looked up and caught her eyes, mirroring the same despair as they both realised they could do nothing. The wardens forced themselves to watch as Ser Perth was forced onto the executioners block. The noise of the crowd increased and Marie noted with surprise that it came from cries of protest.
"He is a good man..." an old woman in the crowd shouted without fear.
"Who's the bloody regent expecting to fight the darkspawn?" an outspoken man not far away cried, "at this rate there'll be only boys and snakes left."
"How many more are Loghain and Howe going to butcher?!" another man cried and the crowd shouted their agreement. No soldier stepped forward to silence them.
The cries grew louder until finally the axe came down and the noble Ser Perth was no more. Marie watched Alistair hang his head in despair while Leliana muttered a quiet prayer. Boos and cries of protest erupted from the crowd, disgusted by what they deemed an unjust death. Finally, the official stood on the platform shouted for silence and the movement of some soldiers brought the crowd to a resentful hush.
"The traitor, Ser Perth, former knight of Redcliffe, has been executed for conspiring with Eamon Guerrin to betray our great nation to the Orlesian Empire," the mutterings of the crowd proved they did not believe a word but the official continued, "Teagan Guerrin, former Bann of Rainesfere, is hereby declared a traitor to Ferelden," Marie's fist clenched at the accusations, knowing every word to be false.
"Our regent, Teyrn Loghain, on behalf of her majesty, Queen Anora, is offering a bounty of twenty gold sovereigns for the capture and delivery of Teagan Guerrin to the palace..." Marie felt a chill of fear skate down her spine. Such a fee would tempt even the loyalist of followers. She swallowed nervously at the official's final words.
"This is bounty is offered for Teagan Guerrin...dead or alive."
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