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.

Chapter Eighty-Seven: Settling In and Riling Up

"It wasn't unexpected," Alistair would say later. "I'm trying not to take it personally."

It was difficult to bring the Landsmeet under control again. Ultimately Loghain had to stand in the middle of the chamber and bellow at them all to shut up before order could be restored. Then it was a matter of convincing them all that Maric was no longer king.

Easier said than done. In all the history of Ferelden, which admittedly was not so very long in the scope of kingdoms, never had a king served while a previous king lived. If there was one thing that could be said about the Landsmeet, it was mired in tradition. The nobility didn't handle unprecedented situations well.

"My friends, I am heartened by your welcome, but my time is past," Maric said, once he could be heard again. "For the majority of two decades I have rotted in darkness, without word of home and its troubles. I knew not of Blight, or of Orlesian hostilities, and I have learned but little of what has transpired since last I trod these shores. While I love Ferelden with all my heart, my time as her king is long over. And so I ask you to join with me in hailing our sovereign king, my son Alistair. He has ruled with honor for years, and may he continue for many long years to come."

Alistair had his supporters, of course. People who understood right away what Maric was saying and who knew Alistair had been a good king throughout his reign. But there were many who did not want to accept the earth-shattering concept of two kings living at the same time. It just wasn't done, they said. In the end, they came around, but only with a great deal of grumbling and the concession that Maric be termed "King Emeritus," like a scholar retired. The important thing, to Maric at least, was that they understood he was, in fact, retired.

"Now that we've got that disagreeable business out of the way, show me to the nursery, please," he said, with some eagerness. "I'd like to be introduced to my grandchildren, now."

They had kept him from the children so that they wouldn't tell their noble playmates who would then blab to their noble parents. There was no further need to keep him away, so they took him to be introduced.

"You're Maric the Savior?" Duncan asked, wide-eyed. "I've read all about you in my history books."

"Oh! Go easy on that whole history thing, my lad," Maric said. He pointed at Loghain. "I'm only a little bit older than this goat here."

"Were you really lost at sea?"

"I was, for a time. I got found again. Will you introduce me to your sister?"

Baby Anora was suspicious at first, but soon enough Maric won her over. It was no real surprise, for Maric had always enjoyed the playful side of parenting more than the teaching and disciplining parts, but he settled in quickly to be the doting grandfather. Fergus had brought Harvest with him to Denerim when the Landsmeet was called, and Maric got along famously with that strange child as well.

There was only so much time for family, however. Anora had disturbing news.

"Word is that the Orlesian rebellion has been put down, with the aid of the templars. Word has spread of our free policies regarding apostate mages, and they are calling for an Exalted March."

"A convenient excuse for invasion," Loghain said.

"But effective. We'll be dealing not just with Chevaliers, but templars as well."

"We have a lot of mages, and we've built a decent army," Alistair said. "Do you think we can beat them back?"

"Maybe. The templars are weakened, with so much division in the ranks," Loghain said. "But I think it's going to take a bit of a miracle."

"Well I hope you can make one for us, General," Alistair said. "We're all rather counting on you, you know."

"I have the bare essentials of an idea, but it's going to take stones to pull it off."

"What are you thinking?"

Loghain shrugged. "I'm thinking we fight fire with fire."

The scouts pinpointed the marching column as headed to Gherlen's Pass, so the army went to meet them there. Loghain stood at the head of five thousand men and women armored in leather or chain or splint mail.

"The men we face today are not monsters. They are people, just like us," he said in his pre-battle speech, the longest already that he'd ever given. "They fight because they believe it is right to cage other people, believe it is right to tread upon the lesser. They believe the Maker demands it of them, condones it. Well, I don't claim to know the Maker's mind, but I do not believe that any mere mortal man has the right to take away the freedom of any man or woman simply because an absent god supposedly says its all right. I think it was men made up their minds it was all right to suppress us, and today we must do this brutal thing to keep our freedom. Today we show that Ferelden stands for freedom!"

The men cheered wildly, and waved their staves in the air. Loghain gestured them to keep it down, but couldn't help grinning a little. Things were working out rather well for Ferelden, he thought; no matter how this battle went he'd be satisfied some real change had at last been made.

The templars, with their Chevalier "support troops," came marching up into the pass. "Halt. Commander of Ferelden army: stand down and mercy will be shown you," a Knight-Commander shouted over the distance. "We come to bring justice upon those who harbor maleficarum."

"What maleficarum?" Loghain shouted back. "There are no maleficarum here."

"We know that Ferelden harbors illegal mages. Stand down."

"They're not illegal. Not in Ferelden. Now go back to Orlais and mind your own damned business."

"Heretics! You would stand in the way of a templar's sacred duty?"

"It isn't sacred. Have the Maker bend down and tell me himself that it is. You create the environment of fear and hatred that causes good mages to go bad. That won't happen in Ferelden any longer, and if you come here to pick a fight, I'll call down the Maker's holy fire to burn the fight right the fuck out of you."

"Enough of this: Attack!" the Knight-Commander said. The line surged forward, but Loghain held his.

"All right, if that's the way they want it, you know what to do. On my mark," Loghain said. He raised his hand. When he dropped it, five thousand disguised mages cast powerful fire spells at once. Loghain himself added to the blaze with a blast of liquid flame. The front ranks of templars fell charred to the earth.

"Again! Harder! Hotter!" he shouted, and the mages cast their spells again, reaching out to the middle ranks. The templars couldn't get close enough to cast their magic-nullifying powers, and it was a massacre even before the real army came surging up from around behind the mountain to attack the rear guard.

The battle wasn't even over before the men could be heard singing as they slaughtered the templars and chevaliers who'd come to steal their land and freedom away. The song was one that had been popular at the end of the Rebellion. Few of the mages near Loghain knew the song, but they picked up the chorus easily enough, and sang along with great enthusiasm.

"Sing hi for you and ho for me…

Ferelden's for the free!"

A/N: No points for putting a smutty spin on "Again! Harder! Hotter!"