Chapter 85 – Hope
A/N: Apologies for the lack of updates. I'll do my best to wrap this up before DA:I comes out this fall.
The city was their last stronghold in Ferelden, though Fergus was hard-pressed to find any man among him who would openly admit it. His men had been working around the clock for the last three days, reinforcing the gates and weakened walls of Denerim.
Scarcely a group of twenty men when they began, many more had taken up shovel and pick to join their ranks as the city nearly overflowed with refugees. Now over sixty strong, together they'd repaired the West Gate and reinforced the southern wall near the Alienage. Every day more men, and even some women and elves, came forth asking how they could help, what they could do. It was a spirit of community that had long since evaded the capital's populace, though Fergus found himself hoping that it would continue should the Archdemon's horde show before his sister could arrive. Even a pitchfork could slay a darkspawn.
Denerim itself pulsed with anxiety as refugees continued to flood in from villages overrun by darkspawn. Lothering, Gwaren, South Reach, even as close as Dragon's Peak… Fergus watched as women, young children, and the elderly marched doggedly into the city center, setting up tents and bedrolls between the shops of the grand market.
Templars patrolled the city nonstop, and for once Fergus was glad to see them. Their golden armor seemed to spark a sort of inner resilience in many of the refugees, a sense of safety under the watchful eye of the Maker.
"And now we have a Templar for a King," Fergus murmured, slamming his hammer down on a nearby post. Alistair was a great man, he knew, but Fergus had always been one to keep his religion far and away from his politics.
"At least 'e's of the blood, eh? A son of old Maric." A redheaded man was sharpening the posts that would create the bulwark to protect an underground entrance leading to the Pearl. "Aye, I'd rather a templar than some farm hand turned madman."
"And it ain't any king that's gone to kill them darkspawn without no Grey Wardens," another man piped up, strapping another log to the barricade. "It's that woman that's gone save us all, you heard it here."
"What woman?" Fergus set another post in the ground, his curiosity piqued. Did they mean his baby sister?
"Aye, she was here weeks ago, iddn't? Set the city to rights, she did, got that bastard Howe right out—"
"And Loghain!" added the redhaired man.
"Aye, aye, 'im too. I heard she was at Ostagar with the King- Cailan that is, and saw what really happened, in that Loghain killed them Grey Wardens that was killin' the darkspawn. He doomed us, but she and that templar survived somehow, got out, they did. Been runnin' all over the country digging up help for us poor sods." The man shook his head. "You saw them mages, eh? In all them robes? They's from the Circle! When does that lot ever leave that bloody tower?"
The redhead shook his head emphatically. "Never in my lifetime."
"Right then, so they's here ready to do spells and the like, and we got some dwarves too, I done saw them in the market just yesterday, talkin' about building a wall under the city in case them darkspawns dig down… Who'd done thought of that but a dwarf?" The man made a noise that Fergus thought maybe was a laugh as he sharpened another spike.
"That Grey Warden got us all this help, least we can do is finish these spiky… erm—" The man frowned, gesturing at the barricade he had just finished. "Whatever them's are. We ought do our part, eh?"
"Well said," Fergus replied, slapping the man on the back, smiling broadly. He knew he'd owe Serena an enormous hug when she finally made it to the city. "I imagine we have another good hour of light left, men, let's see if we can find those dwarves you were mentioning…"
The road to Denerim was slow, but Serena's army was making good time. A few divisions of men had veered off the main army to help smaller villages along the Imperial Highway, battling pockets of darkspawn and helping dispose of their poisonous bodies. Serena was riding in the middle of the procession, which all told was about a solid mile long.
Tired from a long night of talking strategy with Alistair, she was riding in the back of a supply wagon with Kallian, who had completely given up on trying riding any horse.
"So were you thinking before or after you kill this big bad archdemon?" Kallian's small feet swung out of the back of the wagon as they bounced along the path, two of Serena's Queen's guard riding large mounts nearby. The tiny elven women pursed her lips, head tilted in consideration. "Or is it Archdemon? I don't even know if it's a proper noun, actually."
"It's an Old God corrupted into a darkspawn… dragon… thing…" Serena replied slowly, looking up from the letter from Fergus she was reading. His group had reached the outskirts of Denerim safely, and his men were setting up traps along the southern limits of the city. Morrigan and Alim were with him as well, beginning to prep the mages who had arrived from the Circle Tower.
"It's quite large, so I suppose it deserves a proper title of Archdemon." Putting down the letter, Serena leaned back. "What do you mean before or after? Before or after what?"
"The wedding," Kallian answered, rolling her eyes. "What else could I mean?"
Serena shrugged. "I hadn't honestly thought of it."
"Isn't that like, a thing with you shem, though? You dream of the big day and all?"
"No, well, most I suppose. My mother pushed quite a bit on it as I grew up, she wanted to find a good match for me and all that, but I was always a bit more interesting in other things." Serena frowned, briefly remembering Dairren and her last night in Castle Cousland. She's been so young and silly back then, even though it wasn't even a year ago. "What about you? Any big wedding dreams?"
"You think there were big wedding to-do's in the Alienage?" Kallian said sarcastically. "With everyone poorer than the dirt we're kicking up behind this wagon?"
Serena opened her mouth to reply, thought better of it and closed it again.
"I was supposed to get married, actually. You remember my cousin Soris? It was going to be a double wedding. My father had found a good match for me- from the Highever alienage, actually… isn't that funny." Kallian held out her left hand, the fingers spread wide. A simple gold band shined on her fourth finger. "My husband, Nelaros, he… the wedding was a disaster."
Serena put her hand over Kallian's, squeezing it gently. "I remember Alim mentioned it…" she began. The mage's story of never seeing a wedding before, his ever-present curiosity, and how Vaughan had come, wreaking havoc. Soris and Kallian had been taken, held prisoner for months, it had seemed. She'd screamed her husband was… "Oh, Maker."
"Yeah, Nelaros… Soris and Nelaros came back to the castle, to try to rescue us. I suppose that's what they were trying to do, anyway. They had one dagger and a bow between them… what a mess. Somehow they managed to get to us. I took the dagger and we got the women out, but Nelaros didn't make it. This is all I have left of him," she said, nodding at the small ring. "He was a good man, I… I didn't really want to marry him, but he was a good man. When Soris and I were down in the dungeon, I thought maybe he got the easiest out… It was luck, really, that Alim came along. And you."
"Vaughan was a horrible plague on humanity," Serena said. "Even knowing what I do, I can't imagine what you went through at his hands."
"Well, he got what he deserved in the end," the blonde replied, turning the small ring on her finger idly. It was one of her rare moments of seriousness. "Thanks to you. I know I must have seemed… well, crazy, that day. I appreciate that you… didn't hold that against me. The months in the dungeon, I just… I knew we'd die eventually, and you and Alim got us out and I have… purpose... now." Pulling her legs up into the wagon, she rested her chin on her knees. "We're going to kill that Archdemon so you can have the wedding I wasn't able to, if it's the last bloody thing I do."