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Alistair stormed into Eamon's Estate in a fury. He headed for one of the quieter upstairs rooms only to find Rincewind asleep in a chair, at least until he entered the room anyway.

"What?" moaned Rincewind, "Oh…did I miss the Landsmeet?"

Alistair's anger was temporarily sidelined.

"Er… yes you did. Didn't you hear all the running around, shouting orders and people bumping in to each other all morning?"

The Wizzard shrugged, "Nothing beats a good nap in a comfy spot without the risk of being killed. Did it all go well?"

Alistair's teeth clenched.

Rincewind took one look at the man in front of him and decided that it was time to go. Fortunately, for him at least, Odin entered the room.

A perfect distraction, the Wizzard took his chance.

"Well I think it's time for a snack."

With no further adjure he fled the room as fast as possible, leaving the two Grey Wardens facing each other.

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Odin looked across to his friend and fellow Grey Warden, past tense now he supposed, probably on both counts. He should have seen this coming, he should have prepared for it, no time for reflection now.

"You let him live."

Alistair's tone was angry and ripe with accusation.

"After everything he did… you let him LIVE!"

No escape now, time to settle this as best he could.

"I did, and I would do so again."

Alistair looked like he was about to explode. Then he took a breath and stared the dwarf down.

"Why?"

Odin matched his stare.

"I had plenty of reasons. First I promised Anora that I would spare Loghain if I could. I beat him in single combat and he yielded; I wasn't about kill after he sheathed his sword."

"Why would you make that promise?" demanded Alistair, "you know damn well what he did."

"We needed Anora on side. How many votes do you think we won because of her testimony? We didn't just need to win; we had to make it overwhelming. Get everyone on our side, on your side.

"So it was just politics?" spat Alistair "Never mind his actions, the end justified the means?"

Odin scowled, "No, it wasn't. You remember Cautherin's pleading? She is the commander of Maric's shield! Both her and those troops were created and mentored by Loghain for years. What do think they could have done if you or I killed him? Mutiny perhaps, Rebel?"

"You don't know that!"

"We could not afford to risk it!"

"You were worried about one group of soldiers when we lost half an army and almost every Grey warden at Ostagar?"

"Yes," hissed Odin. "Too many good people have lost their lives already in this war and we need every soldier to face the Darkspawn, including Loghain. Even Eamon regards him as a brilliant soldier and if he is going to die I want to make sure he takes as many Darkspawn with him as possible!"

Alistair frowned, the idea of Loghain being killed by Darkspawn was something at least, but to make him a Warden…

"Fine, he gets death by Darkspawn instead, I can accept that. But you didn't just give him a chance you make him a Warden! You've soiled the order by letting in that man!"

"Soiled the order?" retorted Odin. "The Grey Wardens have always fought the Blight by whatever means necessary and have accepted people regardless of their past. Duncan knew that, it was, after all, why he recruited a Carta thug like me. Do you really think he would have turned down this chance to recruit Loghain?"

The mention of Duncan only made Alistair's temper rise once more.

"We'll never know since Loghain killed him!"

"Darkspawn killed Duncan and neither Loghain's or anyone else's death will bring him back."

The two comrades in arms fell silent for a moment. Odin sat down, tired of fighting. How had ended up at the centre of this mess he didn't know.

"Ultimately," Odin eventually said "The Blight takes precedence over everything else. We need every sword, every person, and every advantage to win this. We also need every Warden we can get considering what Avernus told us about ending the Blight. With Riordan there are only three of us and thanks to him we have just enough ingredients to make one more. If the Archdemon isn't killed by one of us it won't matter how many Darkspawn die."

Alistair frowned, "Surely there were better candidates than him."

"It had already been announced to the entire Landmeet, besides he is a respected warrior who survived the joining, that will have to do."

Alistair pouted in defeat.

"Fine, you can keep Loghain, for all the good it'll do. We still have to join the armies at Redcliffe but I dare say I'll be busy with Royal duties."

Odin read between the lines. "I see, well it's probably for the best; you have a lot to learn and leading the Fereldan army would be politically sensible."

"Well…" Alistair looked sad. "Good luck I suppose."

"And to you," replied Odin. "You're a good man Alistair and you have the potential to be a good King, just don't waste your time on revenge."

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The forces that were marching to Redcliffe were growing by the day. Loghain quietly watched from the sidelines as nobles from across the country joined up with their retinues. On the surface they were simply answering the call to arms but were also here to insinuate themselves with the new regime. The new king, son of Maric or not, was a complete unknown to them and many of the more ambitious were testing the waters. For all of his frustration at being out of power the former regent admitted, to himself anyway, that he did not envy that particular task. No doubt Arl Eamon, now also Chancellor of the Realm would be handling these petitioners with care. Whatever else he was that man could play court politics with ease.

As he moved though the camp he saw many reactions to his presence. The pitying looks he got from some of the soldiers and veterans were far worse to endue than the contemptuous glares of the nobility. Ironically the only place to go now was a small corner of the camp run by the very same Dwarf who had swept him from power.

Sure enough the Dwarf was sat by the fire, reading a book. His fingers were occasionally tracing lines and his lips were quietly murmuring the words. Loghain recognised that, he had not learnt his letters until adulthood either, a strange similarity. He paused for a moment; yes there were quite a few similarities now that he thought about it. They had both been raised from low birth by a lucky chance and, though crisis and hardship built an army and put a king on the throne, in spite of their reluctance. History, it seemed had a habit of repeating itself. So, the question was; what role did he play now? He marched towards the fire, determined to find out.

"I passed your test. Fate has a twisted sense of humour, it seems. I suppose you think I'm some kind of monster, more so since I survived your ritual: you keep striking at me, and I just refuse to die decently."

The Grey Warden, who had masterminded his downfall and beaten him in combat, looked up and smirked at him.

"I wouldn't have bothered putting you through the Joining if I just wanted you dead. As it is we need Grey Wardens and you were a perfect candidate."

The former Regent frowned in thought, "I see, well, I suppose I should be glad I considered useful then." He paused and looked round the campsite, "Though you seem to have made a habit of collecting 'useful' people."

The Warden laughed, "Yes I had noticed that, all of my people are very useful indeed, and good company."

"I read the reports of your group. When I first saw I assumed my agents had been bought off or gone mad."

"I suppose a lost prince, a golem with free will, an insane old man in a loincloth and a carnivorous chest would make for strange reading. Though you can rest assured none of your agents have been bribed. I probably couldn't afford it, well not at first anyway."

Loghain decided it was time to ask the question that brought him to the fire.

"What happens now?"

The dwarf looked at him carefully, weighing his words.

"The Blight is out chief concern and we all need to work together to stop it. If…when we succeed whichever of us is still alive will have to rebuild the Wardens, the old base at Soldier's Peak is in surprisingly good condition for resettlement, and mop up the remnants."

"You do not believe both of us will survive?"

The dwarf stared into the fire.

"No Grey Warden has survived slaying the Archdemon, why should we be any different?"

He abruptly stood up.

"I think turn in," as he wondered over to the tent he looked over his shoulder.

"By the way, if you have any dirty clothes give them to the Luggage. You'll get back by morning."

Loghain wondered if this was a joke. Then he saw the Qunari present a large pair of socks to the chest, who promptly swallowed them and receive a pat on the lid in response.

No wonder he thought his agents had gone mad.

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