More straight from game dialogue, but tweaked heavily.

Didn't finish this chapter last night since I went to see VNV Nation (for the fifth time! woo!). And met the band. If they tour near you, go. Seriously. Best live show EVER.

As always, thanks so so much for the reviews!!!

I waited for Oghren to calm down and stop laughing, while Anders looked at him with an expression Alistair would have described as "the cat who ate a pidgeon." Once he had calmed down and set his breakfast plate aside I sighed.

"So, I believe I promised you both a lot of really unpleasant news?"

Anders nodded, looking slightly paler than usual. I got up, closing the door and locking it.

"OK, first I'll tell you, this can't be told to anyone outside the order. Not ever. Not under torture, not under threat of death. Grey Wardens are vital, and if this is public knowledge we would collapse, no one would join." I sat back down, resting my head on my hands, elbows on my knees, while I gathered my thoughts. Looking in to the fire I began to talk. I told them how the archdemon is killed, and what happens if a Warden doesn't make the final blow. I told them what happens to the Warden who kills an archdemon, even though I hoped none of us would ever face something like that again. I told them about the cuts to family ties, inability to inherit titles and land, and about the near-impossibility of having a child. Neither of them said anything in response.

I paused, taking a breath. "You've noticed the nightmares already. Eventually you'll learn to block them out, perhaps entirely. In about thirty years, give or take, the nightmares will return, worse than ever. That's referred to as the Calling. It's how we know that our days are numbered. We go to the Deep Roads, in Orzammar, so we can die taking as many darkspawn out with us as we can."

Anders was the first to speak. "What happens if we don't want to go?" His voice was calm, perfectly measured.

I could feel tears in my eyes, and I blinked them away. Duncan didn't cry, Alistair didn't cry, I shouldn't cry. "We go to the Deep Roads because the alternative is a death from darkspawn corruption, most prefer a chance to go down fighting. I'm sorry." I wiped my cheek with the back of my hand impatiently. "I'm so so sorry. I wish I could have told you both before."

Oghren replaced his hand on my shoulder once more. "Aye, but does anyone think I'd have made it much more than that, anyways?" I covered his hand with my own and gave him a small smile.

I couldn't bring myself to look at Anders, who was much younger than Oghren, and who could easily have lived another fifty years, had he not met me. "So," I said, returning my gaze to the fireplace, "that's it."

"Nothing else?" Anders again, his voice still calm.

"For down sides? I don't know of any. You'll always be hungry. You may find your stamina and endurance have improved- I'm sure you've heard the jokes about that." I managed a slight roll of my eyes, and Oghren laughed. "You have more energy, you heal faster and require less rest and less sleep in general. And, of course, you'll be able to sense darkspawn. After a few months it may become accurate enough you can tell how many, and what kind. Do you have any questions?"

"I do," Anders said. I looked at him, his face was expressionless. "you were there yesterday, right? When the templars decided to hang me?" I nodded. "So, you do realize you're giving me thirty years, instead of the two weeks or so I would have had with them on the ride back to the tower?"

"I can't look at it that way," I shrugged. "I need to see my own actions, not the what ifs."

"Well, I can," he said. "I'll take thirty years of freedom over a twice that in the Chantry's cage. It's not complete freedom, but it's a step." He sighed. "My life was measured in days. No way would I have been able to sneak out that time."

"So, you don't hate me? You're not mad?" I didn't entirely believe him.

"Were you, when you found out? Be honest, Maggie."

"No, I wasn't. I actually said almost the exact same thing to Alistair when he told me. I'm pretty sure they would have executed me for the whole Jowan thing, though."

"Oh, well, you know what they say," Anders replied, his voice shifting more towards the levity I had become used to, "Great minds, all that." I managed a smile, feeling the weight lift from my shoulders. "Aw, did you cry because of us?" he asked lightly, wiping my face with a clean rag from his robe pocket. "I'm all warm and fuzzy inside!"

At that point I laugh, a little. "Funny. The archdemon barely made me blink. Faced with you two, I bawl. Don't tell anyone, it'll ruin my reputation."

I sent them off to get ready to go out for the day and met everyone in the main hall. "What now, fearless leader?"

"Let's go see this remarkable prisoner," I said. "They told me it took four Wardens to take him down. Four!"

Oghren cast me a glance. "Maggie…"

"What?"

He shook his head, walking ahead of me. I could catch muttering. "…sodding Antivan all over again…"

We entered the dungeon, and I was relieved to see it was just a plain room with an unadorned cell. After discovering what Howe got up to at his Denerim estate I had been half-expecting torture devices and years of dried blood. "Both of you, be nice," I muttered over my shoulder. Anders started to raise a protest, but Oghren just sighed.

"Should have figured this," he muttered.

"What?" Anders asked, noticing he was missing something.

Oghren only belched in response, which caused Anders to mutter "eww" and walk faster, to stand near me instead of the dwarf.

A man about my age sat in the cell, wearing rough peasant clothes, but with the posture and bearing of someone raised in nobility. There was a strange familiarity about him, but I couldn't place it. He didn't look like someone who could take down three Wardens in a fight, which must have meant he was trained as a rogue. Well, I do need someone who can pick locks, I thought to myself. I sent the jailer away and opened the cell door.

"If it isn't the great hero, conqueror of the blight and vanquisher of all evil," the man greeted me. "Aren't you supposed to be ten feet tall, with lightning bolts shooting out of your eyes?"

"My hands," I replied. He looked at me blankly. "The lightning bolts, they shoot out of my hands." I demonstrated against a wall, adding "zap" as it hit. He only rolled his eyes, so I guessed my attempts at being cute and charming were going over about as well as a brick.

"Somehow I thought that my father's murderer would be… more impressive." I stared at him, my mouth open. Murderer? "I am Nathanial Howe, my family owned these lands until you showed up. Do you even remember my father?"

That would be the familiarity. If the old Arl had managed to look dark and brooding instead of slimy and creepy it would have been more obvious. "Arl Howe brought his end on himself," I said. "I remember him, he gave me this," I pulled one shoulder of my robes aside, revealing the scar where Howe had run me through. I'd been forced to heal it myself, since I ended up in Fort Drakon not long after. I didn't do a great job, and it was rather brutal looking. "I gave him a chance to yield more than once, he refused."

And, of course, as the nobles do, he started talking about how his father served against the occupation. I'm constantly amazed by how many people who were heroes before I was born, and managed to be monsters now. Did they get bored without Orlais around to fight or something?

"The occupation ended thirty years ago, we were almost lost to the Blight because people couldn't put it behind them," I said.

He ignored me, and admitted he had come here to kill me. Big surprise there, and good luck with that plan, I thought. His face crumpled after saying it, though. "But then, I realized I just wanted to get some of my family's things; it's all I have left."

He seemed to be completely sincere in that, at least. His face was miserable, shoulders stooped. He looked broken and lost. "Why didn't you just ask? I would have given them to you."

"Right, I could just stroll up, introduce myself, and you would hand everything over to your old enemy's son?"

Oghren spoke up behind me, "That's exactly what she'd do."

"Why would I keep your family mementos from you because of something you didn't do?" I shrugged, looking at him. "Believe what you want, but I'm not a monster. I know people say family is important." He gave me a strange look, so I added. "I don't have one, myself."

I asked if he knew what his father's crimes were, he brushed me off, saying it didn't matter since he was dead, and the family shouldn't have to pay for it now. I agreed with him, and suggested he should work to restore his family name.

"Right, I'll just ask King Alistair to enter his service. I'm sure he'll give a Howe another chance."

"Actually, I think he would, Alistair's a pretty forgiving guy. But that's beside the point now." I changed the topic, looking at him. "I understand we had a hard time capturing you?"

"I'm not without my skills," he replied ambiguously. "My time abroad wasn't spent chasing skirts and drinking wine."

"and those skills are?"

"Hunting, scouting, poisons. Why do you care?" I do need a scout, I thought briefly.

"Can you pick locks?"

"Obviously. Why does it matter?" His voice was hostile, but he didn't look prepared to attack.

"And if I let you go?"

"Your men barely caught me this time, next time they might not be so lucky," he replied, with menace. I sighed. So much for not wanting to kill me.

"Not making the best case for yourself here," Anders interjected.

"Should I lie, then?" the prisoner asked.

"Do you really hate me so much?" I asked him.

He sighed, sitting back on the bench of his cell. "The darkspawn are a menace. If it weren't for the blight maybe my father would never have… done what he did. But I can't do anything about them, can I? It's just you and the Grey Wardens, here in my home."

Maker preserve me, I thought, looking at him. I hope this doesn't come back to bite me on the ass. "Get the seneschal," I told the guard. "I've decided."

"sodding Antivan all over again," Oghren said from behind me, as Varel entered.

"OK, I'm just going to have to remember to ask for the story behind that soon," Anders said.

"Commander," Varel began.

"Maggie."

"Commander Maggie," he replied with a smile. "You've decided?"

"Did you know this is Nathanial Howe?"

"The Howes are implacable enemies, Commander."

"My argument was with his father, not this man. I wish to invoke the right of conscription."

Both Varel and Anders managed to say "you what?" at the same time.

He argued with me, but I didn't listen. Howe jumped to his feet, face turning red. "No, absolutely not! Hang me first!"

"You said the darkspawn are a menace, and thanks to your father we don't have enough Wardens to fight them. You want to redeem your name. We all win. Isn't this better than dying?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Hard to say. You like having Grey Wardens who wanted you dead?"

"Some of my best friends have wanted me dead."

"You are a very strange woman," he replied.

"You'd be surprised by how often I get that."

We all headed back into the keep. I told Mistress Woolsey our trip to the city was put off another day and she sighed, but mercifully didn't argue. Oghren retreated to his keg, but Anders stood near me to watch the ceremony. When Howe collapsed backwards I nodded.

"That's disturbing looking."

"It is, but we all looked the same way." Varel handed me a Warden's Oath pendant and I kneeled by Nathaniel's prone form. "He'll wake soon."

"So what's this story about the Antivan," Anders asked. "Oghren keeps bringing it up, I'm curious."

"I'll tell you another time, I promise." I said, frowning. I really didn't want to think about it at all, but it wasn't exactly a state secret. Nathaniel began to groan.

"Welcome, brother," I said as he opened his eyes.