Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age or any of its related characters. This is just for my own enjoyment and the potential enjoyment of other fans like me, and no monetary gain was expected or received.

Rating: T

Spoilers: May contain spoilers for Origins, Awakening, Origins DL content, and Dragon Age II as well as the novels The Stolen Throne and The Calling.

A/N: Not exactly relevant, but my cat just set himself on fire. Am I a terrible person for saying this is hilarious? Terrifying, yes, but hilarious. Now, before you start dialing the number for the ASPCA, allow me please to assure you that my cat is fine. He's a Maine Coon, and that means he's about fifteen pounds of cat, eleven pounds of which is fur. I don't even think he realized he was burning. I made the mistake of lighting a scented tea candle - in a deep bowl! - for "ambiance" while I was writing, and that's a mistake I won't make again. Sloppy Joe (the cat) walked up and somehow managed to stick his tail in the bowl. Fortunately, living in a house with animals, I was not stupid enough to be more than arm's length from the candle, and I reached out and grabbed the burning tail, extinguishing the flames, before the cat could panic and burn up entirely, taking the house along with him. I then put out the candle. The scent of blackened cat is not as toothsome as it sounds. This will simply have to go in the short list of spectacular saves made by Fumbles McShufflefoot, possibly even beating out the time I was washing dishes with my sister after a family occasion and managed to spin and snatch the falling golden anniversary-commemorative champagne flute from the air when she dropped it. The tail, since you asked, does not even appear burnt. He's mostly black, so the singe mark doesn't really show. But the really, REALLY hilarious/weird part? The song on the radio as I was coming home from work shortly prior to this was Alicia Keys' "Girl On Fire," and the song playing on my stereo AS IT HAPPENED was Meat Loaf's "Hot Patootie." I shit you not.

Chapter Fifty-Nine: Inspection

With all the many things to accomplish at the Landsmeet, and then the preparations for the wedding immediately after, and then the hoopla of moving into the old familiar confines of Gwaren House, Loghain didn't get a chance to visit the army training grounds for almost two weeks after being named Commander-in-Chief again. When he finally did so, he felt something he'd almost forgotten in the many years since he last held command over these men: Belonging. Now, he knew, he was truly home at last.

Not that much hadn't changed in that time. Most of the faces he saw as he made his inspection were new to him, men and women who were no more than terrified children clinging to their mothers' skirts when the darkspawn attacked. But though he had forgotten just how painfully, frighteningly young most soldiers were, there was little denying that these men and women were soldiers. His soldiers. His men.

And by the Maker, did they look sloppy.

Loghain grinned, and ran his tongue over his teeth like a wolf smelling fresh meat. He'd have some real discipline beat into them soon enough.

He'd never done this with the Crown's regular army before, or even with his own regulars in Gwaren, only with the elite corps he called Maric's Shield. But Ferelden had had a long time to forget him, and while it was fairly obvious that most of these young people respected the legend of Loghain Mac Tir, it was equally clear they needed to be taught to respect the reality.

"Who among you is man enough to challenge me?" he demanded. The young soldiers cast doubtful glances at each other, clearly not having expected this. Loghain knew just about what to expect, however, and wasn't surprised in the least when a young man, probably fresh from basic training, stepped forward with a noncommittal shrug.

"I'll give it a go, Ser," he said. He had a thick central bannorn accent, and the size and build of a particular type of freeholder Loghain knew well. He knew the type because he was the type. But this burly young fellow looked as if he'd spent his entire life feeling like the biggest rooster in the cock fight, an impression basic probably hadn't knocked out of him. He would fight with brawn more than brain, and like as not he wasn't much for speed. He had just enough ambition - or arrogance - to step forward, but not much more.

"Draw your weapon, then, Private."

The big lad blinked uncertainly. "Erm…my real weapon, Ser?"

Loghain nodded slowly. "This isn't a practice session, lad. Don't worry, I promise not to hurt you too badly."

The young man drew his weapon, a massive greathammer. He looked from it to his rather elderly General with clear doubt on his broad, plain face. Loghain drew his shield but left his sword sheathed for the time being. "Come on, then, lad - make your move."

The young man lumbered toward him. The blow he swung, had it landed, might well have been hard enough to break Loghain's arm even behind his stout shield, but he did not bother to block it. He merely sidestepped, and allowed the heavy weapon to pull the soldier off balance. Loghain drew his sword and struck him upside the back of the head - with the flat of the blade. The young man landed face-down in the dirt, unconscious, with a tremendous crash that fairly shook the earth. Loghain replaced sword and shield and turned to the assembled soldiers. "Anyone else care to have a go at it?"

He wasn't sure whether or not to expect anyone to step forward. In the Shield, he could always count on at least two of his young recruits making the attempt. The first would almost invariably be a young man like the bannorn farm boy he'd just bested; big and strong and looking to prove he was tougher than the rest. The second was just as invariably a young woman, and would approach in a very different spirit. Mostly these recruits didn't act as if they expected to win the battle, only that they needed to prove they had the strength and courage necessary to try. He respected that kind of bravery. He looked for that kind of bravery when he recruited. But this was a different situation. The Shield was mostly made up of veteran campaigners, pulled from the ranks of the regular army. These kids were mostly raw, and mostly not that driven.

So he was ever so slightly surprised when a quiet voice said, "I will try, Ser."

A small figure stepped forward. The voice was male, but for a moment Loghain was fooled into thinking it was a woman anyway, just by the size. Then he realized that it was an elf, and one he recognized. The young man from the alienage who shared his name. Despite the fact he was male, otherwise in all respects this was exactly what Loghain was used to seeing: a young recruit who didn't seek to prove dominance, merely to prove that he had just as much right to be here as anyone else. Loghain smiled and nodded at his young namesake. "Step forward. Have you no weapon?"

"I'll have one before the bout is over, Ser," Loghain Tabris said, boldly, but with a little quiver of doubt.

"We'll see. All right then, lad - let's tussle."

He drew his sword but left his shield in harness for the time being. He launched an attack that the young elf easily sidestepped, then blocked the man as he made an attempt for the knife at his belt. "Not that easily, my good man. Try harder," Loghain said, even as he swung again. The young man danced away and darted back in and out for another attempt, fast as lightning.

It took more than five minutes, but eventually Tabris managed at last to get his hands on Loghain's belt knife. He darted out of reach with it at the ready, and a glint of victory in his eye. If he accomplished no more than that in the entire match, he had already exceeded expectations by a fair distance.

"Well played, my lad. Now let's see what you can do with it," Loghain said, and readied his shield.

It turned into quite a session. Tabris was so fast that Loghain, fighting as he'd fought for so very long, had no chance of landing a blow on him, and so forced his body to remember the speed and agility of years long past. It was an exhilarating exercise, no less so to watch. Loghain had strength and reach to his advantage, and Tabris had raw speed, and it seemed almost an even match. Then Tabris managed to zip around behind Loghain, and drove the long knife in to position for a telling blow to the kidneys, though with the pommel rather than the point. Before it could land, however, Loghain's shield swung around and caught him under the arm, lifted him into the air, and slammed him down flat to the ground. Loghain held his sword point directly above Tabris' black eyes and grinned. "You yield?" he said. Unable to breathe beneath the heavy shield pressed down by the heavier man, Tabris nodded. Loghain got up and helped him to his feet.

"Your mother was a hell of a fighter, too," he said. "She taught you well. I know she'd be proud."

"Thank you, Ser." Tabris handed back the knife he'd taken.

Loghain's expression grew gravely contemplative, and he tapped the blade's pommel against the palm of his left hand. "There is some question in my mind, Private Tabris, as to exactly why a man in this army had no weapon. Perhaps one of my Captains would care to enlighten me?" He said the last in a loud voice in the direction of the line of officers.

For a moment no one seemed prepared to answer. Finally an older man, who Loghain recognized as a longtime officer named Fredricks, stepped forward and saluted. "My Lord General…elves are not permitted to bear arms in the city of Denerim."

"A prohibition that does not hold all the way to the army barracks," Loghain said. "Captain Fredricks, surely a man of your long service knows better than that?"

The man hung his head. "I am sorry, my Lord General. It shames me no end."

Loghain crossed over to where Chatterly stood, holding the many vellum pages upon which were written the various commanders and their companies. Loghain paged through them until he had Fredricks' roster.

"I see here, Captain, that Private Tabris isn't even in your command," he said. "Whose command is he under?"

Another Captain stepped forward then, not with any degree of confidence. Loghain recognized him as a man who hadn't been a commissioned officer at the time he left Ferelden. Withers? Wickers? He couldn't quite remember the name, but he was surprised to see that the man had risen so high in such a relatively brief span of time. He hadn't seemed particularly adept or ambitious before.

"He's in my command, Lord General," the young Captain stammered out. "Captain Phillip Wilkins, Ser."

"Well, Captain Philip Wilkins, perhaps you might be in a better position to explain this to me?"

The man stammered a bit more with a disgraceful lack of dignity. Finally he grinned nervously and gestured toward Tabris. "I mean, my Lord General, look at him. He's just a bleedin' knife-ear, not a soldier."

Loghain grabbed the rest of the pages from Chatterly's hands, paged through them until he found Wilkins' command unit, and marched over to wave the evidence beneath the fool's nose. "Is that his name on this paper? Do you mean to tell me that you have a civilian in your unit? Well? Answer me, damn you - did the man enlist or didn't he?"

"He enlisted, Ser."

"Then he's a soldier, and will be treated as such. To that end he will be issued a weapon, same as any other man in this army. We train people to fight, not to stand around looking ornamental. And he will be treated exactly the same as any other man in this army, or I will know the reason why, and it had better be a damned sight better than 'he's a bleedin' knife-ear.' How much is he paid?"

"Er, I, ah…"

"Ten silvers a month, my Lord General," Captain Fredricks said quietly.

"Ten silvers. I believe the standard rate of pay for an enlisted man is fifty silvers a month, is it not?"

"Yes, my Lord General."

Loghain rounded upon Captain Wilkins. "Was this wage your idea, Captain, or am I to be looking for a new paymaster?"

"Lord General, I didn't - "

"Wilkins," Fredricks interrupted. "I will not let you ruin the career of another soldier because you are too cowardly to tell the truth. You authorized that pay grade."

"I…I did, Lord General."

"I question exactly how someone like you managed to rise to Captain in only ten years, Wilkins, but it may be at least that long before you find yourself at that rank again. You can start working your way back up, Lieutenant, by getting me this man's service record up to this point. I want to know what he was paid, what he ought to have been paid, and where he has been assigned - and whether he's received any proper training."

Lieutenant Philip Wilkins saluted smartly and scrambled to get the information. While he waited, Loghain debated the pros and cons to reinstating the Night Elves company. Finding a commanding officer would be difficult, and the reason he'd dissolved the company in the first place was that he didn't like the idea of a segregated army unit…though he'd lost the idealism necessary to believe he could ever have an integrated army. Maybe, if Tabris had the courage to see it through, this was the first step in that direction.

"Fredricks," Loghain barked. The Captain saluted.

"My Lord General?"

"Private Tabris is now under your command. If I may ask, why was he not under your command in the first place? Your connivance with Wilkins shows me you were aware of all of this from the first."

"My Lord General, I attempted to dissuade the young man from his intent to enlist. Captain Wilkins determined to sign him against my better judgment. I thought…I thought it would be better for him to be pushed out of service by bad and humiliating treatment, than for him to be pushed out through utterly brutal treatment. I thought that was all he had to look forward to if he were part of the regular army."

"Perhaps it is, but it's his choice whether or not its worth it to him, and your responsibility to see to it that the brutality doesn't happen. I'll be watching closely, Fredricks - don't let me down again."

Captain Fredricks bowed. "My Lord General."

Private Wilkins came back at last with the records from Tabris' service. Loghain paged through it and was unsurprised by what it detailed. "Shoveling shit in the stables. And not a single notation regarding weekend furlough. Tabris."

"Yes, Ser?"

"Have you been able to see your family at all in the past two months?"

"No, Ser. I've not been able to get word of them in a month, either. Every time I try to get a message to or from the alienage, my old friends and neighbors, they…they duck me. I'm…worried, Ser."

"So too would I be. Go home lad, and see to your wife and child. Take the eight days' leave that ought to have been yours and henceforward, Captain Fredricks, this man will receive weekend liberty just the same as every other soldier."

"Understood, Lord General."

"Thank you, Lord General, Ser," Tabris said, with a dawning excitement and hope on his face. "M-May I leave now, Ser?"

"I believe that's what I said, Private, yes."

Tabris didn't wait for a second invitation. He lit out of the training yard like a bolt from a crossbow. "See to it that man is issued a proper weapon when - and if - he returns, Captain. The rest of you, dismissed."

Loghain turned and walked out of the training yard, headed back to Gwaren House not far from the army facility. When he gained that safe haven, he found his quiet homelife in a state of turmoil. Papers were strewn all over the sitting room floor, and Elilia was crying stormily while she beat up a fainting couch.

"Dearest, what on earth is the matter?" Loghain asked, alarmed and already prepared to fight whatever monster needed slaying now.

"Vaughan," Elilia ground out through clenched teeth, and knowing what he knew of the Arl's propensities, Loghain was instantly enraged. But a half-second's reflection told him that what he initially surmised was highly unlikely. Elilia would have chewed Vaughan up and spit him out if he attempted anything with her.

"What about Vaughan?" he said, warily, aware that there were others under his protection who were not so capable of defending themselves as his wife.

Elilia dried her eyes with the heel of her palm and gestured helplessly to the scattered papers. "I've had an agent buying up properties in the alienage," she confessed. "I now own roughly half the houses and buildings. Guess who owns the other half?"

She sniffled. "I knew he'd have property but I thought, one or two lots, maybe. I thought I could buy up the rest and pressure him to sell. I wanted to be able to make a difference there, to fix up the houses and make them livable, without the elves having to worry that their homes would then be sold to people who can afford higher rents. Now it turns out I've just wasted a lot of money. Our money, now that we're married. I suppose you have a right to be angry with me."

"Your money, Elilia, and I can't see as its wasted. At worst, half the alienage no longer has to worry about the sudden evictions that are commonplace events there as their properties change hands. As for Vaughan, we'll find a way around him sooner or later. And if we can't go around, we'll go straight through - blade-first, if at all possible."

That bought a weak laugh from her. Loghain closed the sitting room door and bolted it, then crossed to her and took her in his arms. By the time he finished kissing away the frustrated tears that still streaked her face, she was calm. Shortly after he finished making love to her, she was asleep. He wrapped her in one of the quilts that lay folded in the chest near the hearth, carried her back to their bedroom, and tucked her into bed.

A/N: Nobody asked, but I want to clarify a point regarding property ownership in the alienage. I'm a little shaky on my medieval land ownership rules and regs but I'm fairly certain that, in a genuine feudal society, it would all belong to the Lord in charge, whether that in this case would be Arl Vaughan or the Crown is up for debate. But in the City Elf Origin, a family is being evicted because "The Human" who owned their property was going to turn it into storage - not "The Arl" or anything like that. And when thinking it over, the semi-democratic structure of Ferelden governance makes it perfectly logical to me to assume that private land ownership is possible, especially perhaps in the cities, where the rich merchants who can afford property live. Whether bannorn freeholders are able to purchase their land or merely "rent to own" is something I don't know from canon, but it seems to me likely that if they can afford to buy, they do.