Author's Note: Working hard to get updates out as quickly as possible. It always seems the nearer I am to the end, the harder it becomes to write! Anyway! Thanks to everyone taking the time to comment and offer encouragement! It is greatly appreciated.

Chapter 74 - Speechifying

A bath was just what Serena needed to release herself from the tension of the morning. Or the last few days. Or ever since they stepped foot in Denerim, if she was completely honest with herself. Something about the warm water, and the delightful bath salts that Arlessa Isolde kept well stocked in all the baths, was enough to pull her out of the angst-ridden mood she'd been in since confronting Anora earlier.

Anora.

Even just thinking about the devious blonde made Serena's heart start beating quicker. Obviously, Anora meant to keep the crown. She made that much known with her speech about how nobody would back a bastard prince.

But people had already agreed to back them. Bastard son or not, Alistair stood a good chance at the Landsmeet. They had already secured support from the Waking Seas and from the Dragon's Peak bannorn... But it was definitely best to keep that to themselves, for now. Let Anora play her games, and Serena would play her own.

Wringing out her soaked hair, she reluctantly pulled herself from the still-warm bath. Anora was waiting, after all, and probably a multitude of other problems Serena would need to address. But first, she was going to see to the prisoners they'd rescued from Howe's torture chambers.

Pulling on warmer versions of the clothing she had been wearing to Howes, and infinitely grateful to be rid of Isabela's crewmen's breeches, she headed for the plush guest rooms where Leliana and Wynne had set up a makeshift infirmary for the injured.

Kallian was the first to look up when Serena walked in.

"We've been wondering after you for days, you know." The elven woman popped up out of her chair, the book she'd been reading was hastily set aside as she marched toward Serena. "Zevran said you'd been captured and it was all that blonde bitch's fault."

"He was not mistaken in that," Serena conceded, smiling somewhat sadly at the blonde. It appeared as if the days of rest had only sparked the woman into a new fury. "Anora says she didn't mean to do what she did, and as she is the queen... technically... I suppose we have to acquiesce to that." She glanced around the room, nodding to the few others there, some elves, and a few soldiers Howe had locked up from Ostagar. The outspoken ones, she imagined.

"I wanted to talk to you all about a few things, if you're up for it," Serena began.

One of the soldiers coughed, leaning up in his bed to address her. "We owe you and your friends our lives, my lady. Any questions you may have, feel free to ask."

"Do you know of anything that may have upset the people living in and around the Alienage?" Serena asked carefully. The two elves, Kallian and Soris, exchanged a dark look, and Serena felt her stomach sink.

"You mean other than Vaughan and his people barging in on our weddings and kidnapping me and the others?" Kallian growled, tapping her slender fingers on the bedspread that Soris sat atop, his own book set aside now. "Other than him trying to... to..." Her voice faded.

Serena cleared her throat, not wanting to dredge up even more bad memories. "Anora said there was... unrest within the Alienage-"

"We haven't been out in months," Soris interrupted, his mouth turning down in a frown. "Wynne said we'd be able to go back to the Alienage in a few days, once she made sure we were as healed as we could be..."

Serena nodded. She hadn't been expecting them to have any information, they had been locked up for months after all, but the glimmer of hope she'd apparently been carrying regardless now squashed itself out. "Then we'll wait to check it out, and escort you back ourselves."

"It's plague," a new voice said from the doorway. Serena turned and Ser Samuell was standing there, in his city guardsmen's uniform. "They had us lock it down two days ago, for fear it would spread outside the walls of the Alienage."

"Plague?" Kallian's already pale face dropped of all color, her body slumping onto Soris's bedspread. "Have people... what's...?"

"I haven't seen any bodies, my lady," Samuell said quietly. "When there was a plague in Highever..." He glanced sidelong at Serena, who shuddered with the memory of it. Wagons had been hastily built to carry the dead and near dying out to the field for burial.

Her father had overseen it personally with the Revered Mother, consoling the survivors and their families. She had been fourteen. Samuell must have been seventeen? Nearing his vows for knighthood, certainly. She shook her head, refocusing her attention on the conversation at hand.

"You're right, there would be bodies," Serena murmured. "What do you suggest we do then, Samuell?"

Kallian snorted. "If you even trust a shem guardsmen. How do you know he isn't with the regent?"

"I would trust him with my life," Serena said firmly.

"I am only looking out for the people of Denerim," the former knight added. "All of Denerim's people, the elves included." He raised an eyebrow at the blonde elf. "What is a shem?"

Kallian opened her mouth to respond but it was Soris who beat her to it. "It's an old elven term for humans. The quick children."

"Quick children?"

The two elves exchanged another look, one Serena recognized as the same she would often trade with Alistair over what could and couldn't be divulged about the Grey Wardens. After an uncomfortable pause, Soris explained.

"It's said that before we were enslaved by the Tevinter Imperium, elves were free, and immortal. It wasn't until they started to breed with humans that their immortality began to fade. The word shem, shemlen, it means the quick children." The red-haired elf looked down at his hands. "Because your lives were so short when compared to ours."

"So it's not an insult?" Serena asked. The way some of the elves said it had made her wonder if perhaps it meant outsider or stranger.

"No," Kallian said, "Not in it's true meaning. I could call you a potato in a mocking tone and make it an insult though, couldn't I?"

"I wouldn't suggest trying it," Zevran replied, now entering the infirmary. He plopped down into a giant plush chair next to one of the soldiers, nodding politely to the man. Wynne had told her that Zevran had been spending a lot of time in the room, playing Diamondback with the soldiers and discussing a multitude of things with the other elves.

Right on his heels, Leliana leaned in the doorframe, her slight form drawing the eye of more than one of the soldiers recuperating in the room.

"So when are we storming the Alienage?" the blonde assassin asked, his amber eyes flicking to Serena, who in turn looked to Samuell.

"We could get you in as soon as... the day after tomorrow, perhaps." Samuell frowned, his brow furrowed in thought. "Hmm. Yes, that would work. I'll see to it. But you'll need to go under Eamon's protection. Even with Howe did, there's no telling what the regent may say to try to block you from entering, of course... Or imprisoning you."

"The day after tomorrow is Satinalia," Leliana said, counting the days on her hand.

"Oh, dear. Well, I know what I'll be doing the next day or so," Serena muttered guiltily, thinking of all the presents she had left to wrap... or in some of her companions cases, get at all...

Samuell shrugged at the bard. "So we give it a few days, I'll send a letter here to let you know."

"While meanwhile, a few more elves die," Kallian said harshly.

"I don't think any elves are dying," Zevran said.

"Would you care if they did, assassin?"

Soris put a hand on his cousin's arm in warning. "Kallian, he saved our lives." To Serena and the others he smiled sadly. "She has trouble with... control. Sometimes." The blonde elf opened her mouth to protest but Soris moved his hand to cover it, preventing her from speaking. "Make that most of the time."

"Then Kallian is in fine company with us," Serena said, smirking. "So we're agreed then? After Satinalia we'll... uncover whatever it is that's happening in the Alienage."

Kallian pulled Soris' hand from her mouth. "And if people are dying? If the plague isn't some... some cover of that stupid long-haired regent?"

"I'll check it out personally today if you'd like," Serena offered. "I have to speak with Anora today, but I'd certainly welcome any excuse to get out of that..."

"No, it's fine, m'lady," Soris said quickly. "You have done so much for us already. Whenever you wish us to accompany you to the Alienage, Kallian and I would be glad to come."

"We'll hold you to that," Zevran said with a wink to the red-haired elf.

"It's almost as if the archdemon chose Ferelden deliberately, knowing how unguarded it is."

Serena slipped into the space behind the door, not sure if she should be hearing the conversation going on between Alistair and the rescued Warden, Riordan, but unable to deny her curiosity. Riordan's Orlesian accent drifted through the room to her.

"I shudder to think the archdemon can think that far ahead..." Alistair replied quietly. He had one hand to his temple, where he was slowly rubbing out of a headache. "You were saying about Weisshaupt...? Have you ever been there? To the fortress, I mean."

Riordan nodded. "Ah, only the once, and I'd rather not go again." At Alistair's apparent prompting, the older Warden continued. "It's far, lad, and very foreign. The Wardens there... they fight darkspawn like you and me, but they're shaped by the winters, and the forest. They're a cold group, and don't care like they should about the rest of the world. Their king... he is weak, and many Anders look to the Wardens to rule." There was a long sigh. "I hate to say this, but some of them seem to want it that way."

"So the Wardens aren't really apolitical, are they?"

"Well, yes and no. We are meant to fight darkspawn, to stem the tide of darkness... we belong to every country and no country, but if a sovereign were to get in the way of that-"

"Could a Warden become King?" Alistair interrupted. "I mean, well, I..."

"I am aware of your parentage, Alistair," Riordan said in his gently accented tones. "The Arl has also let me know of your plans to dispose Loghain."

"I guess I wanted to know your opinion on the matter."

"Duncan was a good friend of your father, Alistair. He always knew... I think both of them always knew that you could end up in this position if something were to befall Cailan. I think you will make a fine king, or a fine Warden, whatever you should choose." There was the sound of scraping chairs, and Serena tensed. "As for you, lass, you should know I've been a Warden for some time, and can always sense the Taint."

Serena slipped out from behind the door, her grin sheepish. "I... didn't want to... interrupt."

"It is no interruption, sister," Riordan replied, an easy smile coming to his lips. "It is good to see you're no worse for the wear after your stay in Fort Drakon."

"Mm, yes, that was unfortunate," Serena agreed. "I'm pleased to see you looking better, as well."

"Yes, a few more days and I should be well enough to continue my journey," Riordan said with a nod.

Alistair frowned. "Your journey? You're leaving already?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so. I want to try to get to Ostagar. Hopefully I will be able to trace the heart of the Blight and where the archdemon itself abides. If we want to defeat this archdemon, we need to know where it is and how it might strike."

"Surely you aren't going alone, though," Serena wondered aloud. "If you wait until after the Landsmeet, we could go with you..."

"If there were more of us, I would agree. But as it is, I don't think we can deprive all the armies you've gathered of a commander." Riordan shook his dark head. "The Landsmeet may not be for weeks yet. We cannot afford to wait that long, I'm afraid."

Suddenly his face lit up, as if he remembered something. "Before I go, I wanted you to have this, both of you." Handing Alistair, who was closer, a small slip of paper, he smiled his sad, easy smile. "There is a vault, here in Denerim, just off the Market District. The alley that runs north past the Gnawed Noble Tavern will lead you right to it." He motioned to the slip of paper. "That is the code which will let you past the lock-wheel."

"What's inside?" Alistair asked, his honey eyes focused on the miniscule piece of parchment he held. Serena could see he was trying to memorize it silently.

"It is the stockpile the Wardens have kept for centuries for the defense of Denerim," the senior Warden replied. "You can take your pick of whatever equipment remains." With a small wave, he moved from the room, leaving Alistair and Serena alone.

"Still worried about your... heritage?" Serena asked quietly.

"Always. I'm warming to the idea that people may actually believe I can do this job, though. That's three now. Eamon, Riordan, and you."

She leaned against him, pressing herself into his warmth. "Well, you make a great Warden. Who's to say you won't make an even better king?"

"I certainly can't do any worse," Alistair murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Speaking of worst, have you spoken to the ice queen yet?"

"I've been avoiding it, but..." Serena rolled her eyes. In the end, it was a small castle, and she was being somewhat childish about the whole thing, really.

"But if you don't find her, she'll surely find you," Alistair finished. "Don't worry, love, it'll all work out the way it should." He squeezed her close in a tight hug, a crooked smile lighting his features. "Try not to punch her in the face, though. It might set us back a bit."

It felt like a death march, heading down the hallway that led to the queen's private rooms. Serena had practiced her careful replies on the way here, and in the few moments she'd taken in her room to do her hair up prefectly. She knew how much Anora placed on appearance, and she didn't want to come off as some beggar.

Knocking politely on the large wooden door, she wondered absently if Erlina would be within. The bossy elven handmaiden was nearly as bad as Anora herself, in Serena's grand estimation.

It was one of Isolde's maids that answered the door, however, and Serena let out the breath she didn't know she'd been holding. Shaking herself slightly to release the nervous energy, Serena strode into the queen's sitting room, where Anora sat, her arms folded as if she'd been waiting all day for Serena to finally show up.

Serena hoped she had.

"Hello again, Serena. It is good that you came to speak with me." Anora rose from her seat, her hands still clasped together. "First, let me say that I know what happened to your family, and I offer you my deepest sympathies. Eleanor was particularly dear to me, and what Howe did... was unforgivable. How fitting he died at your hands."

"My family wasn't the only one he hurt," Serena said softly. The mention of her mother had annoyed her; she knew for a fact Anora cared little at all for her, but she didn't let it show. "I didn't come here to discuss Howe, anyway."

"No, I suppose you did not." Anora unclasped her hands, finally, and Serena saw the look of faux concern disappear from her face as if she meant to settle into business. "I will be blunt. I can see that your voice will be a strong one in the days and weeks to come. It is to you that Eamon listens, and with good reason."

"I did save his life and all," Serena muttered. Her hands itched to pick at the hem of her dress but she suppressed it. Who knew what Anora would notice? What she would judge?

"Yes. So he said." Anora made a sound that in a less well-bred woman would have been considered a snort. "My father, of course, must be stopped. But once that is done, Ferelden will need a ruler." The queen took a deep breath. "I would welcome your support for my throne."

"Then you have it."

"I'm sorry- what?"

Serena sighed. She thought Anora was quicker than this. "You're proposing an alliance of sorts, correct?"

"Yes. That is exactly what I am proposing."

"Then you have my support," Serena replied, her hands held out in a gesture of surrender.

"When the time comes, you'll support my bid in the Landsmeet to remain on the throne?"

"Yes." I just said that, didn't I? Serena thought.

"You will be seen as my father's enemy, yet you will be in support of his daughter," Anora reasoned, as if Serena hadn't figured any of this into her decision. "You will be seen as supporting the interests of Ferelden as opposed to solely those of the Grey Wardens."

"Yes."

"In return, I add my voice to yours."

"That would be nice, yes." There was a long pause before Serena spoke again. "And what would happen to Loghain under your rule?"

Anora frowned. "He is my father, as well as a great general who as served his nation well... until now. If there is a way for him to live... I would prefer it."

"And what of justice?" Serena asked. "Of the things he's done, the things he may continue to do, should we not stand in his way in time...?"

"I will always be my father's daughter, Serena, but even I know he must pay for his crimes. It will not make me glad, even so." Anora's hands fidgeted slightly, the only visible sign of her nervousness. "Does that affect your decision?"

"No, not particularly."

"And may I ask why aren't you supporting Alistair any longer?"

Serena shrugged, as if the question was an expected one. "As you've said, he doesn't want to rule. Though I think he would be quite good at it, he enjoys being a Warden. It's as simple as that."

The blonde frowned again, her eyes seemed to bore into Serena's as if willing her to speak more. As if she could read the truth from inside her blue eyes. "And what of you? Do you enjoy being a Warden?"

"Ask me after we've defeated the archdemon, your Highness," Serena replied, one dark eyebrow raised slightly at the obvious provacation. "I have offered you my support. If there's nothing else..."

"There isn't."

"Then I shall see you again soon, I imagine." With a slight bow, Serena strolled back out of the door she came in, leaving a sighing Anora in her wake.