78. The Return of the Exiled Princess

Though Marnan had known on some level that she was 'banished,' she had been mostly fixated on the 'stripped of her title and kicked out of Orzammar' part. The 'and never allowed back in' part hadn't really occurred to her. That is, not until she was physically blocked from going through the city's surface gates by some cheeky guard who she had once schooled in a mass drinking match.

After a good five minutes trying to speak reason to the guards, Kazar grew impatient and summoned a tangle of vines from the earth to entrap them. Marnan shoved past them without hesitation, and even Felicity seemed too relieved to chastise the younger mage.

Marnan felt her heart constrict as they descended into the earth, the familiar weight overhead summoning up stabs of homesickness she hadn't been aware of before now. Behind her, she heard Felicity exclaiming in wonder over the architecture and the statues of the Paragons.

It was all Marnan could do to fight back a hundred unpleasant emotions as the scholar named each Paragon in turn as they worked their way down. Tenders of the halls watched them pass, but didn't dare bar their way.

Finally, they passed through a second set of enormous doors and emerged into the heat and noise of Orzammar. For that instant, as the first burn of sulfur stung her nose and the sound of the Commons at peak hours washed over her, she realized how much she had missed it. No amount of sunshine could compare to the golden warmth of her city, and her people. In that moment, she had come home.

The feeling couldn't last, though. It seemed someone had sent word ahead of the armed strangers approaching, for a row of guardsmen awaited their arrival. They were spread in a line across the entrance into the Commons, and led by the stalwart captain of the Orzammar guard.

The captain's bearded face twisted in shock at the sight of her, but then darkened again. "Halt, by the order of the Orzammar guard! You are not allowed in this city, by penalty of death." It was strange hearing such words from a man who had helped teach her her arms, but she would have expected nothing less from him against a suspected traitor.

Marnan stopped in front of them, and the other Wardens spread out on either side of her. "Is that order from Lord Harrowmont or my treacherous brother, Captain?"

"You are in no position to speak of treachery. Turn and leave."

Indignance flashed through her. "How could you still think that I could have done such a crime when the obvious traitor is even now vying for-"

A hand fell on her shoulder, silencing her and helping quell her building anger. Percival stepped forward from his spot beside her. "We are Grey Wardens, Captain, summoned here by one of our own to assist with matters pertaining to the Blight. I was under the impression that you're duty-bound to let us through."

The captain paused at that, his eyes taking in the rest of their ragtag line. Recognition flickered across his face as he noticed Morrigan. Expression grim, he turned back to Percy. "Very well… but for the sake of the order of the city, this business is to be concluded as soon as possible, or else she will be removed from the premises."

"Understood."

The captain waved his gauntleted hand, and the guards slowly moved aside. "You'll want to speak with Prince Bhelen." Marnan's hands tightened into fists. "He's been working with Warden Brosca, and will know where the Warden is."

Swallowing her pride, Marnan started forward toward the Diamond Quarter. As she passed the captain, she heard him mutter, "I thought the Wardens had better sense about choosing allies." She had to take a deep breath to stop herself from challenging him for that insult on the spot.

They wound their way through the Commons, past merchants and taverns. Everyone stopped to stare at the ragtag group. Marnan wanted to think that it was the surfacers that drew the curious stares and whispers, but she felt far more eyes on her than not.

What was Brosca thinking, working with Bhelen? The duster was far too intelligent (a fact Marnan admitted despite herself, when she herself had been fooled by her brother) not to see him for the conniving snake that he was. Could Bhelen have gotten to him? Blackmailed him? Or bribed him? Brosca was above the taking of bribes by now, certainly?

Percival fell into step beside her as they passed a nug vendor. "We won't let this stand, Marnan. Don't worry."

"What can we possibly do to oppose it?" Marnan all but snarled. "My brother has the entire city wrapped around his finger; they won't believe my word over his."

"There must be some proof of his treachery. Something we can show to your Assembly that will prove his crimes."

Marnan sighed harshly. "Did your Arl Howe leave any proof? And would the nobles of Ferelden truly be open to seeing it if he had?"

That deflated Percy a bit, but his expression remained tight with resolution. "Then with or without their approval, we will see justice done. Of that I promise you, Marnan."

Marnan smiled gratefully up at the human. "Then I thank you, and I vow to help you against your family's betrayer when the time comes as well." They paused to briefly clasp hands in fraternal understanding.

Then, they turned onto the staircase up toward the Diamond Quarter, and Morrigan's voice rose from the back of the squad. "So what, pray tell, do you intend to do once you've had your hypothetical revenge? Simply turn the throne over to this Lord Harrowmont man? Yet another scheming politician?"

"Pyral is an honorable man," Marnan shot back. "He is wise, and good with details."

Kazar snorted a laugh. "And I bet he squeezes out gold every time he squats."

"Kazar!" Felicity admonished.

"My point is," Kazar continued, "no one gets that high up in politics without having to wash the dung and blood off their hands a couple times. I'd bet my staff your Lord Harrowmont isn't as pristine as he makes out to be."

Percival stopped on the staircase to turn a glare back at Kazar. "My father was the most respected man in court."

"Yeah, and then he was killed and overtaken by someone more schemey than he was. Point proven."

"Can you not simply take the crown yourself?" Morrigan asked.

At this, Felicity shook her head. "Gray Wardens are forbidden from holding office, Morrigan. It's to make sure we aren't tied to one particular place."

Morrigan's eyes strayed to Percival. "Hmm, pity."

"Even if we could," Marnan put in quickly, "I wouldn't want it. I've never wanted anything to do with the throne."

"I feel the same," Percy said, and they started up the stairway again. "I always figured: let my elder brother have all the titles and responsibility. I'd just bask in the riches, as well as the women angling to get at said riches."

"Glory, here," Marnan agreed. "I always enjoyed the honor and glory that came with the Aeducan name, but I could never stand political intrigue. A pity we seem waist-deep in it, now."

"We'll get through it." Percival said. "You're a good leader, Marnan, if how you've been dragging us through so far is any indication. You'll make sure we get there, even if you have to bash down the archdemon personally."

Marnan cast a smile up at him, a curious bout of playfulness swelling in her chest. "You're not a half bad leader yourself, despite your protests to the contrary. I think I might just deputize you."

"Oh, Maker. Anything but that." Percy's face twisted in horror that was probably only half-faked, and the mages could be heard snickering behind them.

"Too late. I, Marnan ex-Aeducan, hereby dub you, Percival ex-Cousland, as my second-in-command, to be unofficial arbiter and leader of the Wardens when I am not available, and duty-bound to take up my axe and horn in the event of my untimely demise. So say I under the eyes of the Paragons and the Stone. That means there can be no take-backs."

Percival groaned, and the mages laughed in earnest.

Thus, it was with lighter hearts that they emerged into the Diamond Quarter.

Kazar gave a low whistle as he looked out at the view. "You grew up here?"

"A gilded cage, at best," Marnan replied.

"Yeah, the Circle Tower was a lot like that."

Marnan glanced back and saw genuine contemplation on the young elf's face. She arched an eyebrow at Felicity, who was walking next to him. Felicity shrugged.

More eyes followed them, this time belonging to people Marnan had known growing up. The dwarf kept her face forward and her attention on her companions, letting their wordless support bolster her.

Then, just after they had passed the Harrowmont estate, Marnan heard the door burst open. The Wardens turned at the sudden noise, Hugo's hackles rising and lightning flickering up Kazar's arms.

Out of the estate stepped Lord Pyral Harrowmont himself. The elder dwarf was surrounded by retainers and household guards, but nothing in his stance was aggressive. In fact, when he spotted Marnan, his expression was relieved, and he swiftly walked toward the Wardens. .

"Lady Aed… Marnan. It is good to see you."

"Pyral." She stepped up to meet him, waving at the other Wardens to stand down. "You as well." They clasped hands in greeting, and Marnan could not describe the relief of seeing a friendly face. It healed something inside her to see her father's old friend well.

"You return at a tumultuous time," he said. "I'm deeply sorry, but your father-"

"I know. Rest assured, Lord Harrowmont, that I will not allow my brother to besmirch my father's memory like this."

He nodded, smiling proudly. "You do him much honor, my lady, whether you still carry his name or not."

Marnan bowed her head in thanks. The retainers of House Harrowmont formed a loose circle around the Wardens. Behind them, other nobles were gathering to watch, as they often did for any great political theater.

Lord Harrowmont pulled away. "Perhaps, if you've a moment, we might discuss the current state of the city in my estate."

"A bold move, Lord Harrowmont." Marnan's spine stiffened at the voice behind her. "Speaking so openly to a known traitor in a public square." She turned to see that Vartag Gavorn, her brother's second, had broken through the circle of onlookers to stand directly across the circle from Harrowmont. He was surrounded by an attachment of House Aeducan guards.

"Neither of us has anything to hide, Gavorn," Harrowmont said tiredly. "Can you and your prince say the same?"

Gavorn stepped forward. "I should see you hanged for speaking such treason!"

"I say nothing that the Assembly does not already suspect." Lord Harrowmont beckoned toward the Wardens, and they started toward Harrowmont's door.

"Wardens, you have been summoned," Gavorn nearly shouted, making Marnan stop in her tracks. "By the rightful king of Orzammar, Prince Bhelen of House Aeducan. You are to report to the palace immediately, to discuss Grey Warden business."

Marnan spun on her heel and stalked over to Gavorn. His smug expression notwithstanding, he didn't seem to anticipate the punch she launched right at his face. A ripple of tension passed through the Aeducan guards around him as Gavorn stumbled back, but none moved to apprehend her.

Marnan gazed over the Aeducan guards—all once her men. Men she had sparred with, and spoken with, and occasionally gotten roaring drunk with. Men she had fought beside in the Deep Roads. She let them all see the conviction and honesty on her countenance, and one by one, they all removed their hands from their weapons, some bowing their heads subtly in old respect.

Marnan looked back at Gavorn, who was now nursing a nosebleed. "You tell my brother, Gavorn, that if he wishes to see us so badly, he can very well come tell us himself." Then, she spun on her heel once more and followed Lord Harrowmont to the noble's estate.

The district was utterly silent as they closed the estate's heavy doors behind them.