Chapter 17: A Strong Handed King

Alistair

I pushed open the massive wooden doors leading into the throne room of Denerim Castle. It was vacant and shrouded in night. A brilliant full moon gazed in through the windows at the top of the chamber. My footsteps clattered on the stone floors with my armor, the sound echoed within the empty hall "like Chantry bells" as Svenya would say. It was queer to be surrounded by the hush, save for my own footfalls. The chamber had always seemed large, but empty it was cavernous.

A figure was waiting on the dais at the opposite end and I approached cautiously. The figure wore a robe of office and a crown. As I approached, the figure stood and reached a hand of welcome to me, though I could not discern a face as the crown cast a strange shadow across it in the moonlight, but the form of the figure reminded me of Cailan.

Instinctively, when I got to the foot of the dais, I kneeled down upon one knee and bowed my head. I heard the figure on the dais come forward with sure steps. He took my hand and helped me to rise back to my feet. When I lifted my eyes to look into his face, I was confronted with my own benign countenance with a mischievous twinkle in in its eye. I started back, but my doppelganger held my right hand fast and clasped my elbow with his left hand.

"Now that you have gotten here you do not intend to leave so soon, I hope!" My own voice chided playfully from the doppelganger's mouth, "There is much to discuss between you and I. We must get reacquainted."

"Who are you?" I squeaked with disbelief and concern.

He shook his head patiently, "I am you, of course. You retrieved me from the edge of the Fade where my guardians cared for me. To be entirely fair, you left me there to begin with, but I am willing to let bygones be bygones." He was steadily pulling me up the steps of the dais, his grip like iron.

Guiding me around at the top, we looked out at the throne room again. Suddenly it was flooded with the light of many golden candelabras arranged about the room and music floated through the air. Couples dressed in fine array were gliding across the floor, arm in arm, the luxurious fabric sweeping the stone as they danced.

I felt a sinking feeling of disquiet as I realized that every man and woman was wearing a mask. Their faces were concealed and I could discern none that I knew. The eyes that peered at me were neutral. Some of the figures seemed familiar, but I could not be sure. Seeing my obvious distress my companion asked, "What is wrong?"

"They are all wearing masks," I answered, shifting uncomfortably, "How can I tell one person from another?"

"Ah!" the doppelganger exclaimed, pleased, "Now you are starting to understand the full scope of your position."

"And what is that?" Annoyance plain in my question.

He smiled, though sympathetically, "I see no masks."

"How can you see no masks?" I demanded, my left hand balling into a frustrated fist, "What do you mean, `I see no masks?' They are everywhere!"

He held up his hands, implying passivity, "I did not deny they were there. I, however, am not able to see them. I do not see as you currently see."

"Fine," I gritted my teeth, "You claim to be me. You claim to not see as I see. If you are me, how can I be me?"

"You are fragmented, broken, healing. You tore yourself asunder in an attempt to deny the pain." He explained soberly, no longer smiling.

"The pain of what?" I whispered, hoping to cover over the fear rising in my chest for I did not truly wish to know the answer.

He gestured to something behind me and I turned to see it. Suddenly we were no longer in the throne room, we were in a rubble strewn square in Denerim, the last day of the Blight, the day of the Archdemon's defeat. The dead were scattered around us, the shrieks of frantically retreating darkspawn filled the air as they ran directionless in droves. Looming in front of me was the spire of Fort Drakon, a plume of black smoke rising from its apex. It was the moment I knew the Archdemon was dead, and so was…

Closing my eyes, shaking my head to free myself of the sight, I felt a hand upon my shoulder. Expecting it to be the doppelganger, I turned to face him only to find Tabris. Her plaited auburn hair, her beautifully delicate and determined features, her elegantly tapered ears, everything as I remembered.

"You cannot follow where I go, Love," she whispered, her eyes slightly teary but smiling, "I did not want this for you."

I grabbed her upper arms, trying to make sense of what I saw and could not be seeing. There was so much I wanted to say, but my tongue stuck in my mouth. Finally I managed to force, "I am so sorry. I should not have let you go."

"That was not your choice to make, Alistair. The people needed a king, someone who could care for them and who did not want the power for the wrong reasons." She comforted me.

"But I am a horrible king!" I bellowed, "All I ever do is listen to Eamon and follow directions."

"No wonder, Love. You have been trying to live half a life. You tried to send your heart with me over beyond the Veil, but it is not time for you to leave this world, even in part."

I choked back the tears, "I do not want to live without you."

"I am not asking you to live without me. I am asking you to live. Part of me dwells with you. For a time you allowed me to guard your heart. Now you must choose a new guardian. Someone you can trust, someone you honor." She squeezed my arm and embraced me one last time, bestowing on me a soft kiss before disengaging herself and walking away into the mist. After a moment I heard her voice drift back to me, "Be well, Love. Be what you have it in you to be: a good king."

My doppelganger stood off to the side, head bowed slightly, as if considering something carefully. I spoke cautiously, "Now what?"

"Well, you heard the woman." He clapped his hands, and the scene reverted back to the throne room, the dancers swirling in dizzying circles. The music then stopped abruptly, the people cleared the floor, making a corridor. The doors of the hall swung open unaided and three distinctly feminine figures entered. They wore cloaks reminiscent of the women I had seen in a previous dream, but their faces were concealed by their hoods. The one on the right wore a black cloak, the one in the middle wore a white cloak and the one on the left wore a soft gray cloak. "Choose!"

"What?" I panicked. "Choose what? How do I choose? I do not know them."

He shrugged, "How does anyone make weighty decisions? As of late you have been allowing others to make choices for you, but that is starting to grate on you. You have been rebelling against this."

"There are things I have done on the recommendation of others and I have regretted it. If I cannot follow my own conscience, then how can I be a king?"

The doppelganger smiled proudly, "You are learning, but there is no shame in taking guidance from those you trust. The ultimate decision, however, lies with you."

"Are you really me?" I asked uncertainly and he nodded and I continued, "You said you do not see the masks. Can you see these women as they are?"

"Yes."

"Then can you help me to make a good choice, someone I can trust?" I pleaded.

"Do you request this in earnest?" He asked, one eyebrow raised.

It was my turn to nod, "Please."

"Then it will take time for an apt evaluation. Do not fear, I will offer one when I have had time to mull the choices over. There is no rush. Now go back, your Majesty. There are more pressing issues you must face." He raised a hand in farewell.

At least I did not wake up screaming. That is the best I can say about the morning.

On waking up, however, I did notice that Rian's cot was empty. On inspecting it I found it to be cold and Ser Grey was deeply asleep and snoring. I walked over to him and roused him, "Ser Grey, Rian is gone. Did he come to bed last night?"

"What?" he blearily looked at me, trying to get his bearings.

"Rian is not in his cot and I did not hear him leave during the night. Did you notice when he left?"

Suddenly there was a frantic pounding on the door and Ser Grey jumped out of the bed as I made my way to the door and opened it. Bruna was there looking terribly worried. This was not good. "The Arl wants you to come to his study immediately. Svenya is gone." Then my stomach hit the floor.

Grey and I rushed down to the study. Arl Auber was in a dressing gown, pacing the floor as we walked in and his face looked haggard. In his hand he held a piece of parchment and wordlessly handed it to me.

Scrawled in a neat hand was the following:

"Uncle, I am sorry to disobey your wishes. If I felt there were any other options available to me I would willingly bend on this issue. The thought that my mother could die before I make my peace with her is not acceptable. Armies move slowly and politics even more slowly. Even with Ser Sellose, Ser Grey and Ser Hadrian pressing forward to the best of their abilities, they might not make it in time. I also believe there to be graver concerns afoot. With the Templars I cannot help but feel that there is more under the surface, particularly in their drive to gather villagers. Perhaps in going to Cloughbark I can uncover information that will be of greater merit or use in dealing with this crisis. I will return in four days. In the meantime, send the knights to Denerim as agreed so that they can start moving the king to action on our behalf. They are honorable and reliable men and you could do no better than to put your trust in them. I will return soon and you can scold me soundly then. – Mae"

"I think I may very well wring that girl's neck." The frustrated observation as it erupted from my lips startled even me.

Ser Grey looked over the parchment, "Do you think Rian went with her?"

"Where else would he be?" I ranted, waving my arms, "He would follow her like a mabari puppy straight into the Black City if she took it into her mind to go there."

"What should we do, your Majesty?" asked Arl Trian, suddenly looking very old and defeated. He slowly lowered himself into a seat by the fire.

"First, we are going to talk to Bruna and get a clear idea of the layout of Cloughbark and Arl Crewe's estate. Then Ser Grey and I are going to go after them. I realize that we need to get back to Denerim, but I do not think that leaving them to go alone to Cloughbark is wise if Arl Crewe is anything near to what I have imagined."

The Arl rubbed his forehead with a weary hand, "He is worse."

"That settles it then." I concluded grimly.

"No, it is far from settled," came a determined voice from the doorway. On turning around we saw Bruna fully dressed in breeches and a tunic, her hair covered with a kerchief and a sack slung over her shoulder, "I will be accompanying, your Majesty. You may have need of me. Get your clothes and your gear. Do not bother with armor. I already instructed the grooms to prepare three horses. We will discuss any other necessary details on the way. Those two have a head start and if we hope to overtake them we need to leave immediately."

It occurred to me to argue, but it also occurred to me that it was a vain endeavor. Ser Grey however only knew to argue, "Madam, I assure you we will be apt enough on our own. We appreciate your eager assistance, but we will manage."

"Ser Lion," she stated, knowing exactly who he was even having never met him, "I was the hand that first bathed that girl as a babe. I may look like a mouse, but I have a heart of a bear. Either you take me with you or I will be following you at a concealed distance. I leave it to you."

Ser Grey mumbled something about the nature of stubborn women in the Cauldron under his breath and glared darkly, but decided that discretion was the better part of valor.

I turned back to the Arl and swore, "We will fetch your niece and we will convey her to Denerim, even if I have to sling her bound and gagged over the front of my saddle."

"I have every faith in you, your Majesty," the Arl insisted as I stalked from the room to dress and depart for Cloughbark.

As I went up the stairs I determined, "I have faith that I am going to find that girl if only to give her a good paddling in fair exchange for causing all of this turmoil."

"I could lend you a sturdy spoon." Bruna offered from the bottom of the stairs as I retreated.

"I respectfully decline since I doubt it would be nearly as satisfying as my bare hand."

I could hear the grin in her voice in spite of her obvious worry, "I can respect a strong handed king."