"The Great Hall," Jowan said quietly as he led Alistair through a large well-reinforced door and into a very large room.
Alistair looked around, craning his head to take it all in. It was a very tall room, the white-plastered walls almost a full two stories in height, than the ceiling rising well above even that height. A row of massive square-cut wooden columns lined either side of the room, supporting a network of beams that held up the roof, the smoothly finished interior surface of it pierced at regular intervals by wide windows, filling the room with light. The walls were filled with artworks – paintings, tapestries, small inset shelves full of statuary and other objects, large floor-to-ceiling niches lined with bookshelves or containing larger decorative items. A circular fire-pit occupied the middle of the room, a low fire in it making the air in the room pleasantly warm and dry, breaking the wide expanse of thick carpet that otherwise ran from one end of the room to the other, paralleled by narrower lengths between the columns and the side walls.
Banners hung from the rafters, striped in blue and grey and marked with the griffon sigil of the Grey Wardens. At the far end of the room was a broad platform, raised a couple of steps above the height of the floor, with a large throne-like chair in the middle and a long bench to either side. Loghain was seated in the chair in full armour, turned slightly and leaning on the arm as he talked to someone seated on the bench to his right, an elderly woman with her grey hair pulled sharply back into a bun. A middle-aged man in shiny silverite armour sat beside her, while an older man, with a martial bearing but unarmoured, stood beside and slightly back from the throne.
To Loghain's right sat three other people, all in Grey Warden armour; a hawk-nosed man with a surprising resemblance to the Warden-Commander, and two dwarves; Oghren, and a female dwarf with short black hair and the stark facial tattoos of a member of the Legion of the Dead.
Clusters of additional people stood along both sides of the room, from just before the steps to just in front of the fire-pit, all wearing either Grey Warden armour or clothing of grey and blue like Alistair had been supplied with. They were talking among themselves when Alistair first entered behind Jowan, but quickly fell silent, heads turning to watch as Jowan led him forward and around one side of the fire-pit to the cleared space in the middle. It made him feel very self-conscious, all those strangers staring at him. And yet, at the same time, he felt such a strong feeling of belonging, as his Grey Warden senses filled with the warming sensation of others like me in close proximity.
Jowan came to a halt. "Stand there," he said in an undertone, gesturing at a slightly worn spot in the thick carpet, then turned away and walked off to the side, moving to stand with a pair of other people just in front of one of the columns. One was a female elf, pale-skinned, with blond hair and bright green eyes, dressed in the rather revealing robes that Dalish mages seemed to prefer. Her face was marked with delicately tattooed lines, and a faint frown crossed it as she studied him in turn. The second was a broad-shouldered man with dark skin, a bushy black beard and sleeked-back hair. He had startlingly pale grey eyes, and his face was heavily marked with lines of black and blue tattoos, while he positively dripped with gold jewellery and piercings – multiple gold rings of various sizes along the edges of his ears, a gold stud in his left nostril, a heavy gem-set gold torque around his neck, and serpent-form bracelets around his biceps – all signs of a high-status Rivaini.
Loghain cleared his throat. Alistair hastily returned his attention to the front of the room, where the Warden-Commander had apparently finished his conversation with the woman, and was now rising to his feet. He took a position before his seat with his feet slightly apart and his hands folded together behind his back, glancing once around the room before turning his attention to Alistair. Alistair gritted his teeth, stomach roiling for a moment with the force of his hatred for the man.
"Alistair Theirin. You have been summoned before this gathering of your peers to answer to the serious charge of having deserted from the ranks of our brotherhood during a time of Blight. Of forsaking your sworn vows; of failing your sworn duty. How do you plead?"
He swallowed uncomfortably, feeling a flush start in his cheeks. He could hardly claim innocence; it was, after all, exactly what he'd done. Walked out; run away. Forsworn his vows, forever besmirched his honour, and worst of all, abandoned Solona and left her to face the Archdemon with only help from Riordan and Loghain, both of whom had failed her. He drew a deep breath, unconsciously dropping into the same pose as Loghain. "Guilty," he said, his voice cracking mid-word.
There was a short silence, then a brief whispering among those gathered. He lowered his gaze, flush darkening further, unable to even look at the other Grey Wardens; the men and women who would be his brothers and sisters if he hadn't fled. And maybe... just maybe, if he'd stayed... Solona would still be among them. After a few seconds he forced himself to rise his head again, blinking against a suspicious wetness in his eyes. Loghain let the whispering go on briefly, then lifted a hand for silence.
"Alistair Theirin, do you have any explanation, excuse, or justification you wish to present to us to explain your actions?" Loghain asked, voice quiet, but still loud enough to carry to all those watching.
Alistair frowned in thought for a moment. What could he possibly say? That he despised Loghain and would rather be foresworn than serve at his side? That his feeling of betrayal when Solona had not just allowed his brother's murderer to survive, but had actually extended the honour of being a Grey Warden to Loghain, had been too much to bear? When he'd stormed out of the Landsmeet, his anger had been so great that he'd felt like it was the only thing he could do – and it was also an action he'd regretted every single day since.
"No. No excuses," he said, voice hoarse, managing only be an effort of will to keep his head up rather than dropping his gaze to the floor again.
Another brief outburst of whispering among those gathered. Loghain let it continue considerably longer this time before signalling for it to end. He took a half-step forward from his throne, then looked around the room. "Brothers. Sisters. I believe this once-brother of ours is not beyond redemption. Based on personal knowledge of the events surrounding his desertion, I can say that I do not believe that it was cowardice that led him to flee our ranks, nor any fear of facing of the Archdemon. I believe that given time Alistair could once again become a valuable member of our ranks. I ask you to gather in your patrols for discussion; if any of you have questions or reservations, make them known to your Senior Wardens now. They will be given an opportunity to question the prisoner on your behalf before any decision is made."
The three Grey Wardens seated on the bench all rose and walked to different corners of the room, the crowd of wardens breaking up and then reforming in three clusters around them; a Senior Warden and three lesser wardens in each group, except the female dwarf's group, which had four. Each group huddled together, talking quietly enough that whatever they said did not carry, though Alistair was certainly very conscious of the glances many of them sent his way. He kept his head up, forcing himself to concentrate on the griffon-marked banner hanging on the wall behind the throne rather than what was going on elsewhere in the room.
It seemed a very long time before the three groups finally broke up, the Senior Wardens returning to their seats on the bench and the rest gathering in a loose arc around him again. Silence fell again, without Loghain having to signal for it. He turned to face the seated wardens. "Senior Warden Nathaniel Howe, do you have any questions you wish to ask the prisoner?"
Alistair blinked, shocked. A Howe? Wait, hadn't Nathaniel been the name of Rendon's oldest son, the heir... He took a second, closer look as the man rose to his feet. Nathaniel looked very little like Arl Rendon, other than a certain length of face and beakiness of nose. The man bowed his head briefly to Loghain, then turned to look at Alistair.
"Alistair Theirin, we have heard many stories of the travels of yourself and Solona Amell during the Blight Year. You were senior to her in the Grey Wardens, were you not?" His voice was surprisingly deep, with a slightly nasal quality and what sounded like a very faint Marcher accent, Alistair thought.
"Yes, I was."
"Yet you allowed her to take the initiative and be the leader of the pair of you. Why was this?"
He swallowed, and licked his lips. "I... after Ostagar. I was having a hard time. So many died... all the wardens, except for Solona and myself. So many men... my brother... brothers." He had to stop a moment, and take a deep, shuddering breath, all of it coming back so clearly in memory. "My Warden-Commander, Duncan. It was Solona that kept the two of us going. By the time I'd recovered enough to care about anything again, it seemed obvious to me that she had a knack for leadership. I was content to follow her; to support her choices."
"Until the Landsmeet?"
"Yes. Until the Landsmeet," he agreed, and glanced toward Loghain, who was standing still and listening with the same unreadable expression on his face as before.
"No further questions," Nathaniel said, and resumed his seat.
"Senior Warden Oghren Kondrat, do you have any questions for the prisoner?" Loghain asked.
The dwarf rose, and hooked his thumbs into his belt. "I have no questions to ask. However, I would like to say that based on my personal knowledge of the events surrounding the prisoner's desertion of our ranks, I agree with the Warden-Commander's evaluation that is was no cowardice or fear of facing the Archdemon that led Alistair to abandon our cause, and that he is not beyond redemption." He paused, as if thinking of more to say, then shrugged. "That's all."
As he resumed his seat, Loghain turned to look at the female dwarf. "Senior Warden Sigrun, do you have any questions you wish to ask the prisoner?"
She didn't bother rising, just smiled cheerfully. "Not a one, boss!" she called out, her response drawing smiles and amused looks from many of the wardens. Even Loghain looked fleetingly amused.
"Senior Wardens, I propose to reinstate the prisoner Alistair Theirin as a provisional member of the Grey Wardens of Ferelden, and to personally oversee his retraining as a warden. I would ask that in a year's time his case be re-examined, at which time if his progress is deemed satisfactory I would further ask that he be reinstated as a full member of our brotherhood once again."
"And if he fails?" Nathaniel asked.
"Then I would expect that he will meet the usual penalty for desertion in battle," Loghain said, a sombre expression crossing his face. "Death." He waited briefly; there was no sound other than a hushed silence. "Senior Wardens, may I have your judgement on this matter."
They each rose in turn, all of them looking serious now.
"No objections," Nathaniel said.
"None from me or mine either," Oghren declared loudly.
"No objections," Sigrun also said, entirely serious in mien this time.
Loghain gave the three of them a very shallow bow, then turned back to look at Alistair. His expression was very cold and stern. "Alistair Theirin. With the permission of my brother and sister wardens I name you a provisional member of the Grey Wardens of Ferelden. You have one year to redeem yourself in the eyes of our sworn brethren. During this time you will serve as my squire, and will endeavour to learn all such subjects as I assign you. Rather than being made the responsibility of one of the Senior Wardens, you will be under my direct orders. You will also be expected to obey any order given to you by a Senior Warden that does not conflict with my existing orders to you. If such a conflict arises, you are to immediately inform the Senior Warden of the nature of the conflict, and then follow their judgement as to whether you are to obey their order or obey mine; I trust them not to overrule my order except in cases of need," he added, glancing toward the three for a moment, then turned his attention back to Alistair. "Do you understand this judgement?"
His mouth felt dry as old toast. "Yes," he said, voice hoarse with tension. Maker! Having to work directly with Loghain... that was what had made him leave Ferelden in the first place! At least it wasn't a death sentence they'd dragged him back here for, but he couldn't help wishing they'd just left him where he was.
"Do you have any questions about this judgement?"
"No," he said, unable to keep the resentment out of his voice.
"Then I declare this formal court finished," Loghain said. His shoulders relaxed as he looked around the room. "Dismissed," he called out, then looked at Alistair. "Wait there a moment," he ordered, and turned away, walking over to talk to Sigrun.
Alistair stood motionless, waiting, as the room quickly emptied out, only a few of the wardens pausing to glance his way before leaving. Jowan diverted his path to stop for a moment beside him. "You'll be fine," the mage said quietly. "He's a good man."
Alistair set his jaw, making no reply as the mage left. A good man... he couldn't believe that. Even if it hadn't been Loghain himself that had ordered Arl Eamon's poisoning, there was too much else he was responsible for.
Including Solona Amell's death. Even if Alistair did blame himself in large part for it, for having walked away when she still needed him... it was Loghain who'd been there with her on the roof-top at the end. So it must be Loghain's fault that she had died there.
Note - screenshots of the OC Grey Wardens can be viewed in a post on my blog. See my profile for the link to it.