Big-time spoilers for The Calling in the latter part of the chapter.
The Keening Blade
Chapter 20: Wardens in the Underworld
Maude chatted with the golem all the way to Orzammar. Not even gusting winds, intermittent snow, or freezing rain could quiet her curiosity-or Anders', for that matter. Shale's answers were invariably sarcastic, but ready enough.
Loghain pretended to be above it all, but it was actually rather interesting, and he eavesdropped shamelessly.
"Do you remember anything before you came to Honnleath?" Maude asked.
The golem sighed heavily. Loghain wondered how it managed to do that, since a creature of stone did not need to breath. Apparently the air intake was designed to enable the creature to speak. That, too, was puzzling, as Loghain could not remember the creature ever speaking when it was in Wilhelm's company.
"Oh, yes," Shale sneered. "Being little more than a glorified possession at the time, I traveled with my former master Wilhelm. He did a great deal of traveling. I remember fighting great battles, though I do not recall the presence of the Grumpy Warden. At any rate, Wilhelm decided to travel to the south, and we came to Honnleath. I remember my arrival quite well. How he enjoyed ordering me about to impress the villagers! 'Golem! Snarl at that man! Be fearsome!' and all that sort of thing."
"I'm sure you can be extremely fearsome," Maude said, smoothly flattering. "But of course, that is not all there is to you. Before the battles—before you met Wilhelm, what do you recall?"
The creature was blessedly silent for a brief moment. "Not much," it admitted. "I was somewhere…dark. For a long time."
Anders asked, "Just how old are you, exactly?"
"I have no idea," Shale said. "Wilhelm used to brag that the dwarves stopped making golems centuries ago. I do not age as you soft creatures do, but my memory appears to be no better than yours. I get bored, and stop paying attention."
Maude was sympathetic. "I can quite understand you not liking Wilhelm much."
Shale chuckled, an odd scraping sound. "He fondled my control rod so much, his wife threatened to take it away from him and throw it in the lake. Ha! How I would have loved to see that." After a moment, the golem asked, "And how did it come upon my control rod, in fact?"
"Wilhelm's wife sold it—"
"Hag."
"And I bought it from a trader." Maude added, "For an absolute fortune!"
The golem was pleased at the thought. "Glad to know it can recognize a true bargain when it sees one!"
They rested the horses near a deserted hut, as they climbed further into the Frostbacks. The mages got a fire going, and they had a quick meal to sustain them for the last leg of the journey.
"What I don't understand, Shale," Anders remarked, between bites, "was how you came to meet a mage at all. How did Wilhelm find you?"
The golem, looming over them as they lounged by the fire, snorted expressively. "That I certainly can tell you, since Wilhelm went on about it often enough! He found me in the Deep Roads, in the ruins of a thaig, with my control rod not far away."
Loghain frowned. "What was he doing in the Deep Roads?"
"It was a hobby of his…scavenging," Shale sneered. Maude looked like she might protest, since she considered scavenging a perfectly legitimate hobby, but she let the golem have its say.
"He was always looking for forgotten entrances to the Deep Roads," Shale reminisced. "He'd go down and snatch up magical treasures, with no one the wiser."
"Morrigan and I have traveled quite a bit in the Deep Roads," Maude said. "Do you know where he found you?"
"No," the golem confessed, sounding very bitter. "Secretive bastard. I'd ask and ask, and Wilhelm told me that someday—if I didn't talk back to his hag of a wife- he'd take me back there and I could look around for myself. Rotten, lying bastard. If I had his head in my hands right now, I'd squeeze it like a lemon. Squi—ish!"
"But you were in the Deep Roads," Maude persisted, tossing a piece of jerky to Ranger. "Do you remember what you were doing there?"
"I remember… a battle?" Shale sounded very uncertain. "Perhaps a battle. And then darkness, for a very long time. It hardly matters. If Wilhelm had never found me, I wouldn't have had to put up with the twit, or with his hag of a wife!"
Nothing at all about Orzammar was exactly as Loghain had pictured it. The mountains were more imposing, the entrance more impressive, and the great trading fair that lay just outside its gates far more extensive. Permanent structures trailed down the hills, and a good-sized village nestled in a high meadow. It was more a town than a village. While the Frostback Fair was reputedly held from the beginning of Cloudreach to Satinalia at the end of Harvestmere, there was still plenty of activity here in the middle of Firstfall. From the stout appearance of many of the buildings, there must be a sizable permanent population: mostly surface dwarves, who made their living acting as middlemen between Orzammar and the surface kingdoms of Thedas.
The Wardens had little trouble at this time of year finding a stable with room for their horses and mule, owned and operated by humans who clearly knew their business. Some of their belongings were locked away, but certain items of loot, Maude maintained, would fetch a better price in Orzammar than from the traders at the Fair, and these were taken with them. They climbed the approach to the mighty gates in the mountain, while Maude went on happily about the prospects before them.
"We should pop in on Bhelen, of course. It would be rude to visit and not to say hello. Let's pick up a lot of lyrium while we're here, too…"
The guard, not to Loghain's surprise, recognized Maude.
"Atrast vala, Warden. Welcome to Orzammar. You honor us with your presence,"
Maude threw Loghain a beaming, self-satisfied look, and turned to the guard. "It's wonderful to be back. Could word be sent to the King, apprising him of our arrival? We would like to pay our respects, at his convenience."
Morrigan rolled her eyes. Anders nudged her. With great ceremony, they were shown into an elaborate hall, and led to a pair of double doors. Loghain had heard of the mechanical lifts in Orzammar, which could bear heavy weights straight up and down a deep-delved shaft. There was the slightest of jolts, and he felt an unfamiliar sensation of lightness. He grimaced, wondering if he had left part of his stomach behind. Anders was as uneasy and uncomfortable as Loghain. At length, there was another faint jolt, and a sigh as metal met metal with the lightest of touches.
The doors opened, and the lift guard proclaimed, "Behold the Hall of Heroes!"
It was very vast, and very impressive, so Loghain refrained from remarking that for all that, it was really just a very big cave filled with statues. Lava poured down the wall and pooled in channels, shedding a red-gold light on the polished stone.
He had seen dwarven statuary before, in the Deep Roads, long ago. This was similar: massive, stylized, with no real attempt to convey a personal likeness. These statues were conceived to express the power of the dwarven Paragons, not to present them as they had been in life. Dwarves strolled about, pointing and speaking in reverent, hushed tones that echoed softly in an endless susurration. Maude enjoyed showing the sights to Loghain and Anders.
"That's Paragon Varen! He discovered that nugs were edible. They're not bad, actually, with extra sauce…That's Paragon Aeducan, who commanded the defenses of Orzammar against the first darkspawn invasion…Ooo, and that's Branka! I killed her. That's not what she's a Paragon for, of course. She invented a smokeless forge that the dwarves were absolutely thrilled about. After that, being a Paragon went to her head, and she tried to branch out as a Head of House and expedition commander. That didn't work out for her so well. So I killed her and took her stuff. She had a very nice shield. I got quite a bit for that."
"Any particular reason you killed her?" Anders asked, in a rather small voice.
Morrigan snorted, "She tried very hard to kill us!"
Maude nodded her agreement, and said to Anders, "It's an interesting story. I think Shale would find it so, certainly, since it has golems in it, and one had quite a bit to say."
"Another talking golem?" Shale was unwillingly drawn in. "Do tell!"
"I shall, I promise, once we all get settled. You should hear it in detail, from the beginning."
The vastness of the Hall of Heroes gave way to the vastness of the Commons: vastness of a different kind, full of shops built into the living rock, full of dwarves and bustle and loud voices. A number of them spotted the party of Wardens, and whispered, or chattered, or talked pretty loudly among themselves, about how The Warden had given them their King.. Many pointed out Maude, and a few called, "Atrast Vala, Warden! Stone preserve you!"
It did not take Loghain long to realize that Maude was The Warden to the dwarves: the only Warden who mattered. She was a hero in Orzammar, a Kingmaker and a savior, and if she had been a dwarf, she would have been made a Paragon herself. The Wardens accompanying her were simply accessories, enhancing her glory. Maude, predictably, enjoyed the adulation a great deal. Her stride loosened to a swagger as they moved through the Commons. Her continuing Orzammar travelogue was periodically interrupted with little waves and greetings to her endless well-wishers.
The Commons was alive with buying and selling. Dwarves sold their wares at a multitude of booth in the…street? It seemed odd to think of these vast enclosed halls as streets, but so they were. Arms, jewels, surface silks, imported delicacies for the wealthy: everything appeared to be for sale in Orzammar. Probably, Loghain imagined sourly, everything was.
Ahead, a long causeway led over another lava stream to a door at the end. Maude paused in her triumphal progress, and cocked her head.
"That's the way to the Proving Grounds, where the dwarves go for entertainment. We should go while we're here and see the fights. We didn't have time when we were last here. I think it would be educational."
"You would," Loghain muttered, but not with any real opposition to the idea. Yes, everyone knew about the dwarves and their duels, but it gave their warriors practice, and was no different than the tournaments in the world above. To be honest, he would have to admit that he would like to see a Proving himself.
"That's Tapster's," Maude told him, pointing out a door with the sign of a foaming mug above it. "It's a pretty good tavern. They have surface ale there for ridiculous prices, but I'm sure I can get someone else to pay for the drinks."
That was only too likely, and they were moving in that general direction when Maude's attention was claimed by another group of admirers. Not wanting to witness more Maude-toadying, Loghain's eye was caught by an armorer's stall, and a pair of exquisite silverite bracers, intricately chased with geometric designs and studded with jewels.
He drifted closer for a better look. They were the sort of thing that Anora could wear with her hunting leathers. Not that Anora cared a bit for hunting, but well-meaning nobles persisted in entertaining her at their estates with hunts. Now that she was married again, there would undoubtedly be even more hunting parties. These bracers were quite splendid. Anyway, he ought to bring Anora a nicer present than Cailan's ashes in a tea jar.
The merchant, squat and truculent, saw his interest and declared, "Surface gold is always welcome. The price is five sovereigns."
Loghain shrugged, and was about to reach for his coin purse, when the merchant saw Maude chatting nearby. The dwarf's eyes widened, and he peered at the griffons on Loghain's armor. He hastily said, "For companions of the Warden, three sovereigns, fifty silver."
Maude must have overheard. She flashed a naughty smile at Loghain, and winked.
The merchant harumphed. "For special friends of the Warden, two sovereigns."
Loghain growled, his face unaccountably hot. The deal was made, and Maude was claiming his attention, wanting him to meet the dwarves she had been talking to.
"Loghain, this is Lord Vartag Gavorn, First Deshyr to the King of Orzammar. His Majesty is so gracious as to offer us his hospitality."
They were to stay at the Palace; they were to have a private audience; they were to be guests at a banquet that very night. Maude was a celebrity in Orzammar, and even the King wished to make much of her. Loghain resigned himself to it. At least the dwarves did not actually worship her. Loghain did not much like the looks of this Vartag Gavorn, who seemed a typically greasy, influence-peddling court parasite, but the dwarf was positively deferential to Loghain.
"And the Dragonslayer himself! This is an occasion! Our warriors have carried home the tales of your mighty deeds!" He looked closer at Loghain's armor. The other dwarves followed suit. "This is…" he whispered.
"Oh, yes!" Maude assured them cheerfully. "It's fashioned from the remains of the Archdemon. So is Morrigan's armor, for that matter. Splendid stuff, really. So we're off to the Diamond Quarter? You'll like it Loghain: it's quite gorgeous."
A mob of flunkies relieved them of their packs and followed in their train. Another grand set of doors led to another lift. Loghain supposed he would get used to them in time. The doors opened on another cavern. This one was cleaner, more polished, and even more elaborately adorned. Maric had told him about the Diamond Quarter, the district which claimed the houses of the nobles, the Royal Palace, the Assembly, and the Shaperate, which was the library and archive of the dwarven peoples. Quite honestly, the Shaperate interested him the most, and was probably the last place they would be given the chance to visit.
The guest quarters were luxurious: far more so than their counterpart at the palace in Denerim.
"This is nice," Maude declared. "I've always liked these rooms."
"You've stayed here before?" Anders asked.
"No, but I killed somebody who was staying here, so I saw them then. They're very nice."
It was a very large suite of rooms, off a long hall. The various sleeping and living areas were separated by elegant stone and metal screening, rather than by walls and doors. Only the splendid bathing room had a door. Maude delighted in showing them how the runes could be manipulated to issue hot water.
"Dwarves have the best bathrooms in all Thedas," she declared.
"'Tis true," Morrigan agreed. "Too true for debate. Must we change to meet the King, or can we merely wipe our armor?"
"Oh, definitely wiped armor, here in Orzammar," Maude said. "Maybe something else for the banquet, but definitely armor for the audience." She patted Ranger. "I brought your gold-studded collar, darling boy. You can wear that to see the King!"
A team of dwarven servitors arrived and began busily polishing any weapon or piece of armor not actually being worn at the moment. It was best to leave them to it. Sleeping alcoves were chosen, and they unarmed with relief.
"Come on, Loghain!" Maude shooed Anders and Morrigan away, and began pulling off his dragonbone plate. "Let's have a lovely bath!"
"We should get a lovely bath, too!" Anders complained, holding the door open.
Maude laughed and shut the door in his face. "Wait your turn!"
Anders pounded the wall, shouting, "And don't have sex in the bathtub, either!"
Several pounds lighter after removing the dirt, the Wardens were guided to the private audience room of the King of Orzammar. Shale was left behind with several large volumes and a device to turn the pages. Maude had decided that if they brought Shale with them to the audience, the King might imagine that the golem was intended as a present. Loghain was quite curious about Bhelen.
"Warden! Your visit is an unexpected honor!" He was tall for a dwarf, and his nose was absolutely the largest that Loghain had ever seen. Considering that his own nose was not exactly small, that was saying something. A vigorous dwarf, whose hair reminded Loghain unpleasantly of someone or something, but he could not quite place the resemblance.
"And the Dragonslayer himself!" The King greeted Loghain. "Welcome to Orzammar! My compliments to your daughter, the beautiful Queen Anora. And may I congratulate you on your recent marriage?"
Maude beamed. Loghain supposed it was inevitable that the dwarven king would know about them. It was undoubtedly in all the diplomatic correspondence. He wondered what the various Heads of State had made of it.
The king recognized Morrigan, and welcomed her back to the dwarven kingdom. Anders was greeted kindly, and complimented on his recent recruitment into such a distinguished order as the Grey Wardens.
"And so, Warden," his keen eyes fixed on Maude, "I cannot help but wonder what brings you here."
"Your Majesty!" Maude's voice was sweet and sincere. "After all our two peoples have been through together, I felt uneasy until I knew how Orzammar was faring since the end of the Blight."
Bhelen relaxed—minutely—but Loghain spotted it. Clearly, the dwarven king had been expecting some sort of demand.
"The slaying of the Archdemon," Bhelen answered, with a nod to Loghain, "has given us a reprieve, however brief it may be. Our scouts and the Legion of the Dead report much less darkspawn activity in the Deep Roads than normal. We are hoping to take back some of the thaigs before they can build their numbers up again."
"Aeducan Thaig, I would imagine, would be the best chance for that," Maude said.
Bhelen smiled at her, very pleased. "Exactly. Our craftsmen are at work with a new set of barrier doors. If we can hold off the darkspawn for even a few months, I believe we can make the thaig defensible."
He unbent enough to pull out a map of the Deep Roads nearest Orzammar, and spread it out on his elaborate greenstone writing table. Loghain leaned over to study it. It was astonishingly detailed.
A thick finger traced the various routes. "Here is Aeducan Thaig, and here are the Roads west to Caridin's Cross, and then down to Ortan Thaig. I understand that you, too, Warden Loghain, have explored Ortan Thaig."
"I have, Your Majesty, many years ago."
"We are sending a surveying team there in ten days time. Perhaps you Wardens would care to share your knowledge?"
"I told you so," said Morrigan, over breakfast. A very late breakfast, probably not at what they would consider morning, for the King's banquet had lasted a very, very, very long time. Breakfast consisted of a rather strange porridge and some sort of eggs. Not bad, but…odd.
Luckily, Anders had cured everyone's hangovers. Loghain was extremely pleased that they had had the sense to recruit someone so useful.
"You did," Maude said equably. "You were absolutely right. Mind you, I knew we'd have to sing for our supper, so to speak. We do know Ortan Thaig, and it's not all that far. Before our departure, we can spend some time in the Shaperate, and have a perfect excuse to copy maps and make notes."
Anders was still trying to figure out the eggs. They were a little larger than chicken's eggs, and the yolk was bright blue. The "white" was a unappetizing shade of grey. They tasted all right though, and the Wardens scarfed them down with gusto.
"Deepstalker," Maude said. "Yes, they're deepstalker eggs. There weren't a lot of them in Ortan Thaig, that I remember anyway, but simply mobs of them in the Aeducan Thaig. The dwarves must have cleared them out."
"Or domesticated them," Morrigan suggested. "We saw them in pens somewhere."
"You're right!" Maude agreed.
"Eggs?" Shale remarked, leaning over the table with scraping noise. "Eggs suggest the existence of the birds in the Deep Roads. That is disturbing. I thought I would be secure from birds—other than the Swamp Warden."
"Deepstalkers aren't really birds," Maude assured the golem. "They don't have feathers and they can't fly, so you don't have to worry about unwanted perching. They're sort of like vicious, flightless, featherless chickens, but they couldn't possible do you any harm."
"That is very good to know. I confess I am looking forward to this exploration of the Deep Roads. I may find some clue to my past."
"I'm sure we shall," Maude agreed, scooping up another egg. Ranger rested his muzzle on the tabletop, and turned pitiful eyes up to Loghain.
"Oh, all right, you beggar."
A happy bark.
"In fact, I have been remarkably patient," Shale said, after the meal was over. "Now that the Younger Warden has glutted itself, copulated numerous times with the Grumpy Warden, and slept for tedious hours, perhaps it can manage to tell me about this other talking golem it met. Does it know where this golem is now? Would it be possible to meet it?"
"Shale, you have a silver tongue," Maude laughed. "But yes, I ought to tell you this story. No, alas, the other golem is gone. It threw itself into a river of molten lava shortly after we met, but before that, it told me something of its story. The golem in fact, had once been Caridin, Master Smith and Paragon of Orzammar."
Morrigan, who had been there, was more interested in her cup of herb tea, brewed by herself from surface herbs that smelled of sunlight. She merely said, "He was extremely full of himself, considering that he was yet another who demanded that we sort out his problems for him."
"Poor old Caridin wasn't so bad," Maude remonstrated. "Tell me Shale, do you remember anything before you were a golem?"
Shale was briefly silent, and then said, "Is it implying that I was once something other than a golem?"
"You certainly were. When I was last here, Bhelen sent us to the Deep Roads to look for the Paragon Branka, since he felt a Paragon's support would clinch his claim to the throne. She, in turn, was looking for something called the Anvil of the Void. She went completely bonkers, and killed her own people looking for it. We met this Caridin beyond the Dead Trenches," Maude explained. "and he had been turned into a golem. I also read his research notes. Caridin built the Anvil of the Void, which he then used when he invented golems. Well, not to put too fine a point on it, he used living beings."
"Squishy creatures like yourself? I find that unlikely and more than a little insulting."
"Well, dwarves aren't quite as squishy as humans, but yes. The process would have been very…traumatic."
"Clearly, you believe me to have once been a dwarf. Describe this process."
"Are you sure you want me to?" Maude asked, sympathetically. "It's quite awful, and it might trigger painful memories."
"I do not feel pain. Continue the narration."
"All right. According to Caridin's notes, the living person is enclosed in a stone or metal shell, and then molten lyrium is poured in through a hole in the top. Caridin wrote that the subject screamed quite horribly. And he didn't like it a bit when it was done to him!"
"Why?" asked Anders. "I mean, why was it done to him?"
"Originally," Maude told them, "only volunteers became golems. With the onslaught of the darkspawn, the dwarven kingdom was in a desperate state. Thaig after thaig fell, and the dwarves needed a miracle to hold off this unanticipated threat. Caridin devised a solution: immortal warriors of stone and steel that were impervious to the Taint. He could not create new life, so he found a way—his fabled Anvil of the Void- to transform the living into golems. After some time, the volunteers were not enough, and the king decided to use the process as a punishment for political enemies. Caridin objected, and ended up on the Anvil himself. He rebelled, and hid the Anvil away, so no one else would suffer as he had. Anyway, when I found him, he begged me to destroy the Anvil, which he was unable to do. Branka wanted the Anvil for herself, and obviously couldn't be trusted with it, since she was a complete and utter loon. So I killed Branka, and made a deal with Caridin to support the King of my choice. Bhelen wanted a Paragon, and he got one. Just not the one he asked for."
"Interesting. I remember nothing of this. I do not remember being covered in molten lyrium. That sounds rather disagreeable. A dwarf, you say? And not as squishy as a human?"
"No, indeed!" Maude said, utter conviction in her voice. "That is why dwarves are called 'the stout folk!' They are very hardy and resilient. In fact," her voice lowered to confide her most thrilling news, "it might be possible to find out your identity!"
"Oh!" Morrigan scoffed, remembering. "You mean that monument we saw with all the names."
"Absolutely!" Maude agreed. "I took a rubbing of it and gave it to the Shaper of Memories in Orzammar. It might be possible to find your name-if you're interested."
Shale said, "I confess myself intrigued by the idea of another identity-a past. Perhaps the answers can be found in the Deep Roads. We must look!"
They visited the Shaperate first.
The elderly Shaper of Memories greeted them all with great courtesy, and assured them that their visit had been included in the Memories of Orzammar. His usual calm cracked a little at the sight of Shale.
"A golem! Most interesting. We have few golems left, and maintain them meticulously. I would give you a good price for one such as this, Warden."
Shale spoke up, the rumbling voice sonorous with distaste. "I would rather throw myself into boiling lava, since that is the done thing when golems commit suicide."
"Pity," said the Shaper, rather startled at hearing a golem speak.
"We couldn't possibly sell Shale," Maude said kindly. "Shale is a free golem, with a mind of its own…as you see from the insults. Shale is a sentient being, to be recruited as an ally, not to be bought like a tool."
"I…see…" the Shaper regarded the golem with considerable interest. "This is a new thing, and will be recorded in the Memories."
"Perhaps we could see that rubbing I brought back," Maude coaxed. "Shale here is very interested in learning about its origins."
"I have transcribed the data into a codex, and will have it brought to you at once. Please, make yourself comfortable at the reading table of your choice."
Loghain felt they had other priorities. "We also would like to see any maps of the Deep Roads, and any archives concerning the nature of darkspawn."
The Shaper nodded approvingly. "We have much to share, and will do so willingly."
"Much" was an understatement. Volumes were stacked on the table, and the tall stacks tottered precariously. Morrigan frowned, and chose a work on the early days of the darkspawn invasions.
Loghain smiled slightly at the pleasure of the huge tome of Deep Road maps that was placed in his hands. Many of the maps folded out for several feet, and many were fragile with age. From the pack he had brought, he pulled out good-quality parchment, a number of colored inks, measuring tools, and several quills with nibs of various widths. This was an opportunity not to be wasted. He would examine the maps carefully, and copy the most useful of them.
Anders whispered to a Shaper's Assistant, "Can you bring me something about rune-crafting?"
"What a wonderful idea!" Maude said, eyes gleaming. "Learn all you can about those hot-water runes. I want them for Soldier's Peak!"
Meanwhile, the codex containing the names on the golem memorial was brought to Maude, and the appropriate pages opened for her. Shale leaned over, interested.
They were quiet for some time, absorbed in their work. Maude eventually sighed. "This is incomplete. Sorry, Shale. Nothing seems familiar to you?"
"The names of some of the thaigs, certainly. Here, you see, they list 'eight from House Vollney, three from House Cadash, two from House Dace.' This inscription is abbreviated, and seems to be a partial copy from a larger original."
"I think you're right." Maude nodded thoughtfully. "Out there somewhere is a complete listing of all those who became golem—unless King Voltar didn't allow the political enemies to be listed. That's possible. He might not have wanted their families to know what became of them."
No one was permitted to eat or drink in the Shaperate. Just before they adjourned for what they were pleased to call a midday meal, a note was delivered to Maude.
"It's from the King," she told them quietly. "Everything's moving along for the Deep Roads expedition, and they're taking care of the supplies. The day before, there will be a Proving, held in our honor. We'll be up in the King's Seats, and it should be quite the spectacle." She smirked, glancing at the note. "Bhelen's full of information about the participants, and about how essential they are to the defense of Orzammar."
Loghain grunted, carefully capping his array of inks. "He doesn't want us conscripting anyone."
She shrugged. "I believe you're right. I suppose I understand it, the city being still so unsettled. Underpopulated too. I wouldn't dream of stealing any of Bhelen's precious warrior caste, much less the sons of worthy deshyrs."
"We could recruit amongst the casteless, I suppose," Morrigan remarked.
Maude looked glum. "I would too, if they didn't all hate me down there. You know why, Morrigan. You were there when we cleaned out the Carta's hideout, and if you'll remember, it was not a popular move. Awfully good fighters, though. In fact, Bhelen and his hoity-toity deshyrs wouldn't like to hear this, but the best dwarven warrior I ever saw, bar none, was casteless. Even better than Branka…and Oghren, too, so this goes no further than the six of us."
"You are including the dog?" Shale queried.
"He's a Warden," Maude answered firmly. "I keep no secrets from the Wardens."
"Hear, hear," Anders said. Ranger wagged his stubby tail.
"Anyway," Maude went on, "the best warrior here in Orzammar was casteless. A woman named Jarvia, who was the head of the Carta—the criminal organization that our party wiped out at Bhelen's behest. She was really something—in fact, I put her right up there among the best warriors I've ever seen anywhere. Really first class. The dwarves are crazy not to allow the casteless into the army. She would have glittered like a jewel, if she hadn't been forced to be a criminal by her own people. Sad, I suppose."
"But you did kill her," Loghain pointed out.
"Absolutely no choice," Maude agreed. "A condition for honoring the treaties. I killed her, and took her stuff—all her stuff—and immense amounts of valuable stuff it was. She was really something, I can tell you."
"And the winner is…Adal Helmi, eldest daughter of Lady Helmi!"
Unlike the Shaperate, one could eat and drink to wretched excess at the Provings. Indeed, one was encouraged to do so. Excellent wines and ales from the surface were in plentiful supply. Trays of delicacies were on constant offer by discreet, well-trained servitors. It was all understandable, since the Provings lasted for hours and hours.
"She's very good," Maude commented. She flashed a sweet smile to the King. "Very good indeed. Strength and speed, and uncommon agility. Her family must be very proud of her."
Bhelen gestured an expansive agreement, and tossed back more ale. "Her mother's pride and her father's joy. Fit for the greatest in Orzammar, as they're so fond of saying. Fine girl. I suspect they will arrange something with the heir of House Bemot. She's someone that Orzammar cannot afford to lose."
Loghain kept his face expressionless. Maude said only, "We quite understand, Your Majesty."
They understood more than Bhelen might imagine. It was clear to Loghain that Bhelen did not want this Helmi girl recruited into the Wardens. It was also clear that the family was hoping for a royal marriage for her. There was as yet no Queen in Orzammar.
Bhelen had a son by a casteless concubine. The Wardens were quartered not far from the royal nursery, where the child reportedly lived with his mother and grandmother, and was carefully guarded at all times. The concubine was not on display today. Perhaps Bhelen did not dare try the temper of his nobles by ensconcing such a girl in the King's Seats. It seemed unlikely that he would dare to name her Queen, however much he doted on her.
Maude was forthright enough to ask, "I see children here today. When will Your Majesty's son begin attending the Provings?"
Bhelen's smile became genuine. It changed his face to a startling degree. "Next year. By next year he'll be old enough to sit up and start taking it all in. Otherwise, I might have to put it off for another year or two. But he should be all right by next year."
"I've heard that he's a fine lad."
"The finest!" Bhelen sat back, in high content.
To the Wardens' surprise, the Provings were not over. There were now a series of team competitions: four against four. To their further surprise, the teams were not composed entirely of dwarves.
"I think…" Anders muttered. His voice rose. "I do know him! That mage! He's four years older than I am, and he was sent out on a Circle contract to serve Bann Fandarel. He must have done a runner! Angus!"
Morrigan, mortified, hushed him. "Do not halloo at the teams, Anders. 'Tis most inappropriate!"
"Everyone else is hallooing! Angus! Oi! Up here! Yes, it's me!"
Anders' mage friend looked up, recognized Anders, waved, and was promptly knocked down by his opponent.
"Oops," Anders muttered. "Sorry."
Angus survived though, and his team made it to the semifinals before they were carried off the field to the healers. There were other mages in the contest, and even elves. If you could fight and were not officially casteless, you could enter a Proving.
"I never thought of this!" Anders whispered eagerly to Morrigan. "I always planned to go to Tevinter. I could have gone to Orzammar instead to escape the Chantry! It's not even all that far."
Morrigan answered impatiently, "And then you would have been buried underground for the rest of your life! If you wished never to see the sun again, you could have remained in your tower. Coming here hardly seems an improvement."
Loghain glared at her, hoping the King had not overheard. Luckily, His Majesty was on his feet, roaring his delight at a knock-down blow. Morrigan accepted the rebuke, and shut her mouth in a thin line of disapproval.
Anders muttered to her, "Any place with no Templars is an improvement!"
Loghain could not believe that he was being dragged off to the Ortan Thaig again. It was a place with a special meaning in his past: a special meaning of which Maude knew nothing.
When he thought back on it, he had to admit there was something rather gruesome about the fact that he and Rowan became lovers there. Of all the places in all Thedas for a brave and beautiful warrior woman to lose her virginity, Ortan Thaig must be the least…romantic? Appealing? Clean?
And yet they had loved each other, and found some measure of solace in each other's arms there. The taint of the Deep Roads had certainly not put Maric off Katriel. That bitch. Rowan had needed something to take her mind off her royal betrothed and his Orlesian elf lover rutting like rabbits at every halt.
As always, the memory of Katriel put him in a foul mood. Maude noticed his scowl.
"Are you all right? It should be interesting for you, seeing Ortan Thaig again."
"Very interesting," he growled.
At the entrance to the Deep Roads, they were met by a regiment of the Legion of the Dead, led by Commander Kardol himself.
Kardol greeted Maude with the quiet camaderie of warriors who have faced a danger unknown to all but a few. He was respectful of Loghain, as the slayer of the Archdemon. For the commander of the Legion of the Dead, he was positively gushing. They moved out, seeing no darkspawn, and at the beginning of the fifth march, they arrived at Ortan Thaig.
It had been thirty years since Loghain had seen this place, and he was glad of his fine new map, for nothing but the Blighted filth festooning the walls looked familiar. Some light gleamed eerily from the phosphorescent lichen that still gleamed from the bits not overcome by taint. More light was shed by rows of ancient crystals, many of which still functioned.
Maude pointed out two chambers on the map. "We saw giant spiders there…and there. Even if the darkspawn have withdrawn, it's possible we'll come across the spiders again."
"Joy." Loghain grimaced
There were quite a few, as it happened. They were dispatched by sword, by arrow, by ice, by fire, and by the smashing blows of the golem Shale. The cocoons that dangled from the ceiling were burned, since Kardol told them that there was where the eggs were laid. Most of the cocoons contained dead darkspawn, and no one mourned for them. Not all of them did, of course. A mummified dwarf slid out of one, hitting the stones with a muffled crackling. Ranger snuffled at the body and jumped back, disgusted. The cocoons flamed like torches, and sometimes trinkets and coin rained down among the ashes, purified and gleaming.
They collected and distributed the loot, and moved into a series of narrow tunnels that led to the thaig proper: tall, shattered houses, and the remains of twisting streets.
Maude paused at a tunnel that led off the main chamber. Loghain glanced at his map. There was a small chamber that way, with no outlet.
"Something important over there?" he called.
She looked back at him, her face unreadable. "Not really. I just want to check it out."
Before he could stop her, she had trotted away, Ranger at her heels. He swore, and followed.
It was dark, but for some patches of the phosphorescent lichen that still remained. Loghain struggled with a crystal embedded in the wall. After some adjustment, a thin blue glow illuminated the chamber.
"No," sighed Maude. "He's gone. Poor old Ruck." She peered at the bones that scattered the floor. She kicked away some trash, and picked up a skull. "I knew him, Loghain. A tainted little dwarf, well on his way to becoming a ghoul, but he still helped us quite a bit. He was in hiding after killing a man, and traded with us when we were on our way to the Dead Trenches. He knew I was tainted, too. Spotted it instantly, but was quite nice about it."
"Once you take in the darkness, you not miss the light so much. You know, do you not? Ruck sees you, he sees the darkness inside you."
She turned the skull to face her. "Hello, Ruck! How's business in Ortan Thaig? Got plenty of shinies for me?"
"The dwarf is dead?" Morrigan said, coming forward. "How could he not be? Nasty little creature, talking about how your hair smelled. I daresay you're here to look through his things. He had quite the cache."
"Of course!" Maude set the skull down gently, and began prying open the collection of chests against the far wall. A great deal of fine dwarven armor was shared out among the Legion. Maude took only an etched piece of silver, "for a keepsake."
Kardol was pleased with his new shield. They camped there and slept, while Shale prowled the edges of their camp. Loghain awoke to see the golem standing directly over him.
"You want something?"
"Umm…This place is…familiar," Shale rumbled out, very slowly.
Maude stirred, and blinked herself to consciousness. "Familiar? You recognize something?"
"I am not certain. There is a place…a cavern not far from here…I can mark the location on its map. I am most curious to know what we shall find."
Loghain got up and rummaged through his maps, showing each to Shale. The golem hesitated, and then pointed.
Maude read the name. "That is a place called Cadash Thaig."
"Cadash Thaig!" Kardol shook his head. "No one has set foot there in ages."
"I have existed for ages," Shale pointed out. "I feel certain there is something important there."
Cadash Thaig was deep under the Frostbacks. They traveled southwest from Ortan Thaig for two marches, and then due south for three. After that, the Deep Roads branched off suddenly, and led them into a strange new world.
Nearby hot springs and phosphorescent lichen combined to create a mysterious green land, surprisingly verdant and well-lit. A river ran through it. It, too, was green, and a warm mist rose up, softening the thaig's broken corners and bone-littered streets.
"This is it. Cadash Thaig. I am looking for something here, I know it. These ruins are always overrun by vermin, but there may be something noteworthy further in. Was this a home, once? Did I live here?"
Kardol and his men whispered to each other as they moved past the deserted stone buildings. Cadash Thaig had been a large settlement, and was in surprisingly good condition. Kardol was agreeing with his legionnaires that their report would urge future expeditions here.
They heard the darkspawn cackling before they saw them: a standard cluster of genlock archers and hurlock swordsmen. An emissary threw weak spells at them and was instantly targeted by their own mages. Shale, unaffected by the spells at all, simply trundled forward and squished the mage to a nasty Tainted paste. The creatures were slaughtered in short order.
A high wailing burst out of the shadows…
Ranger growled, and then burst into a ferocious baying.
"Shrieks!" Maude shouted.
The things fell upon them from behind, rearing up to claw at them: grotesque monsters with attenuated, pointed ears and sharp teeth, uttering unearthly, whooping calls. It was a strong pack of five with a powerful leader. Loghain had little experience with shrieks. He had not seen many of them, even at the Battle of Denerim. Shrieks carried no weapons, using only what their nature had given them. It was enough to do serious damage.
Their claws skittered at his armor. One gaped at a dwarf, biting his helmet. Ignoring the horror of the long, stinking tongue licking at his face, the dwarf stabbed deeply, and a comrade hacked through the creature's spine.
Loghain knocked another aside with his shield, and slashed sideways, cutting off a clawed hand. It was hard to slow these things down, filled as they were with unnatural vitality. Maude screamed at one of the monsters, and plunged her dagger into its eye.
"Bloody hell!" Anders shouted, startled when yet another appeared before him. He smashed at it with a magical shock wave, and then immobilized it, while Morrigan drained the creature's life.
When they were dead, the thaig was eerily silent once more, but for the sound of the river lapping gently at the stones of the shore. Anders moved busily from soldier to soldier, healing their wounds.
"That was nasty," Maude muttered.
"The Legion of the Dead fights well," Shale complimented Kardol. "It is pleasant to see you in action."
The dwarf grinned. "Pleasant to see you, too. I never had a golem at my side before. You're welcome to all the emissaries you care to smash!"
There were deepstalkers in the thaig, too. Several large packs of them, in fact, and they were annoying and persistent. Kardol ordered his men to field dress a few and take them along.
"Fresh meat tonight!" he chuckled grimly. "Better than dried nug, any day."
Ranger wagged his tail at one dwarf, and was rewarded with some deepstalker guts. He seemed to like them very much, and trotted after Maude, licking his chops with a satisfied air.
Shale cared nothing for this, and moved along with them, studying each house in turn. "I see nothing. Whatever was once here is gone."
There were a series of bridges over the river, and at the base of one they encountered another pack of shrieks, which fell on them, howling. Anders managed to position himself to freeze a number of them at once, and the party moved quickly to kill them all before they could shake off the paralysis and claw at them.
"I've never seen so many shrieks in one place," Maude remarked afterward. "I've come across a few of them in the Deep Roads, of course, but they're comparatively rare, since they're born of elven broodmothers—"
That caught Loghain's attention. "Elves?"
"Yes, of course. Genlocks come from dwarves, hurlocks from humans, ogres from qunari, and sharlocks—which we call 'shrieks'—from elves. The darkspawn always pull females far underground to breed, but this is so very deep under the mountains. Kardol, is it possible that elves once lived with dwarves, here under the earth?"
"Never heard of anything like that," the dwarf grunted. "Maybe the Shaper could help you."
"I cannot picture it," Morrigan objected. "To live so far from sun and sky? The elves we have known could not endure this. And yet, this place is…different. There was magic here once, and perhaps it still abides."
"I know what you mean," agreed Anders. "There's something here that's not like the rest of the Deep Roads we've seen."
"It's strange," Maude agreed. "I'll give you that. It's clear that there must have been an elven broodmother somewhere fairly close, for us to be seeing all these shrieks."
There was more greenery as they ascended the bridges. Not just lichen, but moss, too. The darkspawn had not managed to Blight this thaig, not entirely. Perhaps the stronger lichen here was able to absorb and clean the taint. It was something to ponder, as they climbed the long span of yet another bridge. The stones trembled with a distant, awful roar.
At the top of the hill beyond the bridge were ferns. Actual, real ferns. This place must be the greenest spot in all the dark underworld of the dwarves. The phosphorescent lichen shed a gentle, penetrating light all the way to the roof of the cavern. The moss was soft and thick here, and the air was nearly free of the stink of darkspawn. Loghain was so distracted by the sight of this little park in the midst of the Deep Roads, that he almost did not glance up soon enough to see the ogre bearing down on them.
It was strong, but it was only one ogre, and there were many in their party, including two powerful mages. Even when another pack of shrieks joined the fray, they fought them off handily. Darkspawn blood soaked into the velvety moss, and was absorbed.
"These shrieks have gold on them!" Maude exulted. "Tevinter gold! Who'd imagine it?"
Quite a bit of gold. Maude shared it out with the whole party, and they then collected some interesting artifacts, including some fine antique weapons and some curious amulets. Anything magical was handed over to the mages—at least by the dwarves, who were uncomfortable with the objects. There were fine crystals, too, and Maude found one that their golem could add to its own adornments.
Towering above them was a statue so large they had almost not noticed it. Its base seemed to be just the foundation of another house, until one craned one's neck back and looked up…and up…and up…
And there was writing on it. A great deal of writing.
Shale, moved past sarcasm, read the inscription, and said, "This, this I remember! It has dates and names! This is a monument to those who volunteered, to those who became golems. Here is my name: Shayle of House Cadash. I recognize it! I was indeed a dwarf, and a woman. This is a revelation!"
Maude ventured softly, "I did tell you."
"It is one thing to hear, and another to know. It is an answer of sorts. I wish I could have spoken to Caridin. I must think more on this matter."
They returned to a hero's welcome. Again. More banquets, more Provings, more flattery. Above the Stone, it was winter, and a hard one. Travel would be a foolish risk. On good days, the Wardens visited their horses, and tasted the air. Then they descended once more to the weatherless underworld of the dwarves.
All Orzammar was theirs—at least what they wanted of it. They practiced and sparred at the Proving grounds, they studied at the Shaperate, they made love in the comfort of their palatial quarters.
Morrigan was the most restless, and winter or not, went to the surface frequently, shifting to wolf and running through the snow, sometimes with a gleeful Ranger. Anders, to Shale's disgust, would come up to practice a bird form, and was nearly at the point of achieving a raven.
Loghain acknowledged that he would like to leave as well. He was homesick for Ferelden. He had heard the word and never before understood it, but it was the word that described him best. Homesick. It surprised him that Maude, of them all, seemed so little troubled by it.
He asked her about it as they cuddled in bed one night, relaxing on the odd comfort of a thick dwarven-hair mattress laid over stone.
"Don't you miss Ferelden? Aren't you ready to go home?"
She had been nearly asleep, but now opened her eyes to the blue half-light of dwarven crystals, and rolled over onto her belly. She propped her chin on a fist, and thought about it.
"No. Not really. I haven't had a home in a long time, Loghain. I've already grieved over my lost home and put it behind me. I suppose after a long enough time, I'll become attached to Soldier's Peak, and that will be my home."
"We can leave in a few weeks. I'm sure of it. We could go north to Highever…"
She made a face. "I don't want to go to Highever. I don't want to see it ever again, but I suppose I'll have to. I don't want to hurt Fergus, and he has to be there, however awful it is. Maybe we could take a different route to Denerim—maybe through the Bannorn."
"You love Highever."
"I love the memory of Highever. I don't want eat food from the kitchen where Nan was killed, or from the larder where my father died. Maybe Mother died there too, but I imagine her death was more public than that. I don't want to know where Howe took her to have his fun. I don't want to sleep in my old room. There isn't a spot in the entire Castle that doesn't hold a painful memory for me. Fergus wasn't there, and maybe it won't be so horrible for him. I imagine Howe's men scrubbed it out, and Fergus won't see Oriana and Oren's bloodstains. I wish Howe had burned the castle to the ground, and we could start all over again."
Her sadness reached him through the pleasant haze of post-coital bliss. "All right. We'll go straight to Denerim. We could go up to West Hill, and push through to the White River Road. It shouldn't take more than six or seven days, weather permitting. We can be back before the end of Guardian."
"If you like," she shrugged a little. "I want to finish that book about recent dwarven history. I wish I knew more about how the darkspawn function between Blights. The writer talks about a "hive mind," but the darkspawn aren't nearly as well organized as bees. It's not like they seem to be able to communicate…"
Loghain blew out a breath, recalling something long forgotten. "…unless they talk."
A silence. "What did you say?"
"Unless they talk. I saw one once that talked."
Another silence. "When?"
"Years ago. When Maric ran off with the Grey Wardens that time. Twenty years ago or so. Bloody idiot. They wanted me to show them around Ortan Thaig because the Warden-Commander had lost her Warden brother in the Deep Roads. Duncan was involved, too. It was all a ruse by the Orlesians, of course. Maric thought it would be a lark to go instead. He was taken prisoner by the Circle of Magi and nearly killed. I had to haul his chestnuts out of the fire. As usual. When I found him, there was this strange darkspawn that begged us to kill it."
"It spoke? In actual words?"
"Yes. And Maric allowed it to be killed. I wanted to question the bloody thing."
"A darkspawn spoke?"
"Yes!" he replied, with a touch of impatience. "It was talking about this creature called the Architect, who was an intelligent, talking darkspawn. Maric said that the darkspawn I saw was the remains of the Warden that Lady Genevieve was searching for. This Architect creature had tainted him further, and the Warden now looked entirely like a darkspawn. Maric was a fool to get involved with the business at all."
Maude exploded, threw herself on top of Loghain, and grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him.
"When were you going to tell me about TALKING DARKSPAWN?" she shrieked. She thumped Loghain on the chest, and he put out his hands to block her attack. She appeared to be completely out of her mind, black eyes rolling with wrath.
Ranger woke, and began barking in alarm at the sight of his master and mistress fighting. Anders and Morrigan stirred, and Anders staggered out of bed, completely naked.
"Wazzappa?" he croaked.
"Stop screaming!" Morrigan complained. "Loghain, Maude is dreaming of darkspawn again. Do quiet her!"
"Loghain met a talking darkspawn!" Maude yelled, attempting to clout him over the head. "There are darkspawn out there who talk, and Loghain never told me!" She snatched up a pillow, and pushed it into his face. He shoved her away, and she threw the pillow at him.
"It was twenty bloody years ago," he yelled back. Catching her by her grabby little hands, he flipped her onto her back and pinned her down. "It's dead by now!"
She kicked at him, shouting, "Darkspawn live forfuckingever, unless Wardens kill them. You knew about talking darkspawn! You knew about talking darkspawn even when you were trying to kill me! I can't believe you knew this and never told me!" She kicked at him again. "Get off me!"
He let her go. She snatched up the sheets with a snarl, and stalked off to the sitting room. Ranger cringed back, whining pitifully.
Shale, standing in a corner, wisely offered no comment.
"Apologize," Anders advised, the following day.
"Apologize," Morrigan said flatly. "No excuse is possible. Plead the failing memory of extreme old age."
Ranger stared at him, brown eyes accusing.
He had been married before, after all, and knew they were right.
"I'm sorry I never told you, Maude," he said, into the tense silence at the breakfast table. "I really never even thought about it until last night. It was twenty years ago, and after Maric died I put it out of my mind. If you hadn't reminded me, I might never thought of it at all, so that's all to the good."
"It's why you disliked Duncan so much, wasn't it? Nearly getting King Maric killed."
He nodded, hoping that the worst of the storm had passed. She looked fairly awful, eyes wild and hair sticking out all over the place. Perhaps when she was calmer, he could talk her into going back to bed with him for some proper rest.
"Maric told me bits of what had happened, but not all of it. Said he owed it to the Wardens to 'honor their secrets.'" The bitterness of it was still alive on his tongue. "And if this Architect creature was still alive, surely it would have played a part in the Blight. No one's heard anything further, so I presumed it was killed at the Circle."
"I hope so," Maude said, attacking her eggs like mortal enemies. "I really hope so. Talking darkspawn are worse than abominations. When I'm fighting darkspawn, I don't want to hear anyone talking but me!"
They left Orzammar near the end of Guardian, just as Loghain had hoped. It was no great surprise that Shale chose to remain behind.
It…she…Shayle of House Cadash…had been impressed by the Legion of the Dead, and wished to serve with them.
When Anders had suggested that advanced magic might be able to transform her back to her dwarven form, the golem refused.
"I volunteered for this. Long ago, I made this choice to defend the dwarven people against the darkspawn. Shall I change my mind again, simply because I became a golem long ago? The Deep Roads are where I belong. There are no birds to trouble me, and plenty of darkspawn to squish. I shall go to fight beside Kardol, and when he is dead, I shall fight beside those who come after. We shall cleanse Cadash Thaig, and the dwarves will read my name with pride."
They rode out at last, richer in gold and knowledge. The horses and even Meghren the mule seemed happy to be on the move again. Loghain realized how accustomed he had become to the fug of dwarf and molten stone when he breathed the sharp wind on the east side of the Frostbacks once more. They rode down and down, into the foothills, and down again into human lands.
Night fell: a true night full of stars. Morrigan and Anders wove a web of warding barriers around the camp before they retreated to their tent. Loghain and Maude sat under the black dome of heaven, pointing out their favorite constellations, wrapping a warm bearskin around themselves, drowsing in the clean air before they, too, crawled into their tent for a proper sleep.
They chose the back roads of the Bannorn, and met few darkspawn to oppose them. More dangerous were the outlaw bands, dregs of mercenaries and refugees. Burned and blackened fields stretched out, mile after mile. What would come with the spring?
Dragon's Peak was the first, blessed landmark that swam into view in the clear sky. A day later, they saw the tower of Fort Drakon, dim and ghostly. Loghain pressed their horses hard, and rode on, his mind already in Denerim, until the Great Gate was before them, and he was home.
"It looks much better!" Maude remarked, as they clattered over the new Gate Bridge. "The fire damage isn't nearly as bad as I would have expected."
"The darkspawn weren't in Denerim all that long," he agreed. "Remember what we read about the cities they occupied for years. It simply didn't happen here."
Maude beamed. "I want to ride all over town and see everything!"
Morrigan declared, "And I want a bath."
They arrived at the Warden compound to find it empty, but for a few servants.
Loghain thought for a brief, glorious moment that the Orlesians had gone back to Orlais where they belonged. It was too good to be true.
"They've gone to Amaranthine, my lord," the housekeeper told him. "Arlessa Delilah had trouble with them darkspawn as went north. She invited Warden Kristoff and the lot of them to stay with her at Vigil's Keep."
"Oh, too bad!" Maude exclaimed, winking at Loghain. "We missed them! Well, no help for it. We'll hold the fort here. I think we'll start with baths for all of us, if you please."
"Is the Queen in the Palace?' Loghain asked. "If so, inform her of our arrival." It seemed a lifetime since he had seen his daughter. Would she want to see him?
Anders and Morrigan had already vanished upstairs. Loghain opened the window in his room, letting in the winter smells of the city: wood fires and root vegetable peelings, baking pies and wet wool. He began unarming, and Maude helped him, smiling, unbuckling his buckles. Ranger sniffed at his own, long-deserted bed. Someone had shaken the blanket out, so at least it was not dusty. Maids came in, bearing huge noggins of hot water, and emptying them into the enameled bath.
"Isn't this a bit like home?" Loghain asked Maude.
"A bit," she agreed, smiling. "When we have our room at Soldier's Peak, put together perfectly, then that will be even more like one."
A knock, and Seneschal Revere entered.
"Welcome back, my lord! Er, Warden! The Queen wishes to see you at your earliest convenience in her private sitting room. Their Majesties are pleased to invite the Wardens to dine with them tonight. Further," he told them, "there is a great deal of correspondence awaiting your attention in the Warden's Study. Warden Kristoff dealt with what he could, but certain items were directed to you…"
"Thank you, Revere, I'll see to it."
Maude sighed to herself, and said, "You go see Anora first. I'll have a look at it."
This was Denerim, after all, where she was the Dragonslayer Loghain's beautiful sidekick, and not the Risen Andraste, or the Kingmaker of Orzammar. Loghain took her by the shoulders and kissed her, willing her wistfulness away.
Baths always pleased her, and after hers she donned Rowan's old green velvet dress. It was odd to see her in it, but it suited her, and he pushed the past from his mind. Now presentable in breeches, clean linen and a Grey Warden tunic, he set off to see his daughter.
Who, he discovered, was pregnant.
Note: Neither the Wardens nor the legionnaires can sense the presence of the Lights of Arlathan, which are a feature of the DLC Witch Hunt. I posit that it is their presence that makes Cadash the greenest of the thaigs we visit. Elves did live there, long ago, and some of their magic still protects the plant life, at least.
A big thank you to my reviewers: mille libri, Shakespira, Aoi24, Guile, sapphiretoes, Lehni, Josie Lange, Phygmalion, Wren Wild, Alpha Cucumber, wisecracknmama, Zute, Judy, Sarah1281, wayfaringpanda, Jenna53, Amhran Comhrac, reyavie, mutive, JackOfBladesX, Fastforwarmotion, Enaid Aderyn, Piceron, Gene Dark, icey cold, Kira Kyuuketsuki, and Windchime 68.