"I'm here for Anora." I pointed vaguely in the direction of where she was being held.
He laughed, "The traitorous bitch has you under her thumb? Anora does love games. I'm surprised she'd play with the likes of you." With a heavy sigh, he dropped his arms to his sides, slipping in to a better position for fluidity, "You should have left when you had the chance, Warden. Slunk off to the Anderfels to hide with the rest of your kind. This Landsmeet is a farce. Loghain will triumph, and you will die."
"Howe is mine." I looked down the length of my dagger, watching his every movement, "We save him for last."
With a nod, Zevran jumped in to the fray. He dealt with the guards, and I? I danced with the apostate.
"Stand still!" the man shouted, and I grinned. A frustrated opponent was sloppy. A dead man walking.
My left blade found its home between his third and fourth ribs, and physically pushed me from him. The force yanked the iron from him, allowing the blood to flow unimpeded.
Soon, too soon, it was just the three of us. Me, Zevran, and Howe. Zev blocked the door, smirking at the soon-to-be dead man.
"How does it feel, to know you are to die soon?" He taunted.
"I wouldn't know. Because I will not die here."
"That's so cute! He thinks he stands a chance against either one of us." I giggled.
Howe narrowed his eyes at me and spat on the ground at my feet, "You're a pathetic child! In what world would I ever lose to you?"
"In this one. And every single other universe, ever. And do you know why?" I got in his face, prepared to move if he took a swing at me.
He stayed silent, thrusting his sword at my middle. I deflected it with my own blade.
"It's because I want it more than you do."
Grabbing my wrist, he twisted my right arm behind me. I let him, wondering where he thought he was going with this.
"Back off! Or I will gut her!"
"You will kill her no matter what I do. Why should I listen to someone like you?" Zevran tsked, stroking his finger along the edge of his weapon.
I threw my head back and hit him square in the chest. He was so stunned, he dropped my arm, and I kicked him where it hurt. He collapsed to the ground, choking on air.
I crouched down and grabbed a fistful of his hair, yanking his head up, "A mistake on your part, treating me as a simple child. The last of your errors, it seems. Now, I wish I had the time to torture you, make you really suffer, but unfortunately, I have a date with Ferelden's traitorous queen. Oh, I know she's going to betray me. That's why I only brought the assassin Loghain hired to kill us. I'm sure you recognize him. Before I kill you, any last words?"
He regarded me with a strange expression. Fear. It looked out of place on the arrogant asshole's face.
"Maker spit on you..." I quietly pulled my knife free of my belt and dragged it across his throat. His last words came out a gurgle as the blood filled his lungs. "I deserved... more."
And then he was no more. Howe was finally dead. I took the key from his pocket, thinking it might come in handy.
The door to the back of the room revealed more cells. A man was in one of them.
"Maker have mercy on Your faithful servant. Grant me a place at Your side. Grant me the cleansing flames." He looked up, "Andraste, Bride of the Maker, have mercy on me. Alfstanna... is that you, little sister?" he corrected himself before I could, "No... I don't know you... do I? Are you real?"
He kind of reminded me of that Templar, Cullen, back at the Circle Tower. When he'd been scared to death by the demons and blood mages.
"Who are you?" I made sure my voice was soft, my tone gentle.
"I... I'm Irminric, knight-lieutenant of the Denerim chantry. You... aren't one of the teryn's men?"
"I have heard of Templars behaving erratically when going through Lyrium withdrawal. He might not be fully present right now." the elf murmured.
"I thought nobles didn't have authority over Templars." I searched the man's face. He seemed to have his wits about him at the moment.
"They do not."
"I... I failed my duties. Maker, forgive me. I failed, and there's no telling what he's done..."
"You're a Templar?" His eyes went to me, and he struggled to focus.
"Alfstanna is... a far better bann than I would have been... but I... don't remember how I came to be here... The maleficar. He had turned blood magic upon Templars and Circle mages to escape from his tower. Near Redcliffe, I cornered him..." He was talking about Jowan. "But the teryn's men took him from me... and brought me here..."
"This maleficar, was his name Jowan?" I was merely asking for clarity purposes. Also, in case there might be some other blood mage running around.
"Yes. He... destroyed his phylactery... we were spread out, trying to find him... I was alone." He grabbed the bars tightly, pressing his face against them, "I... you are real, aren't you? My dreams are... so strange now. Please, if you're not a dream, help me."
"What do you want me to do?" I was almost one hundred percent sure that Irminric didn't see Zevran standing next to me.
"Give this ring... to my sister, Alfstanna. Tell her... tell her I'm sorry. Please. Ask her... to pray for me." kneeling down, he continued his praying, as if our conversation hadn't happened. "Lady of Perpetual Sorrows, pray for me."
The key worked on the door hiding the stairs.
"Here. Take the ring to Eamon, he'll know who Alfstanna is and where to find her. Tell him everything that happened." I
Erlina was waiting for us outside a door. A woman wearing armor stepped in to the hall.
"My thanks." Anora.
"Aren't you a little short to be a guard?" I critiqued.
"I look more the part than you do." she quipped. "We must go quickly and avoid notice. If Howe's people find me, I'll be killed. And my people will insist on escorting me back to the palace... where my father may also have me killed."
I gave her a gentle smile and patted her arm, "It's okay. You'll be safe soon."
Zevran and I nodded to each other, and we led the queen back the way we'd come. In to the ante chamber. In to an ambush.
"Warden! In the name of the regent, I am placing you under arrest for the murder of Rendon Howe and his men-at-arms." Ser Cauthrien announced. "Surrender, and you may be shown mercy."
"Okay. I surrender."
"Why stop now? Cauthrien is all that stands between us and freedom." Zevran boasted, playing his part.
"Are you sure this is what you wish?" She sounded dumbfounded.
"Killing them just reinforces Loghain's lies about me." I said regretfully.
"I'm surprised this ended peacefully." She glanced at the guards with her, "Bring the Warden. Loghain doesn't care about anyone else."
...
When I woke up, I was in a cell of my very own, dressed in just my tank top and boy shorts.
"You look like you've been dragged through ten kinds of crap, friend. What'd you do?" the man in the hold next to me asked, a friendly tone in his voice.
"I killed Rendon Howe." I stated. There was no point in lying about something I was proud of.
"Who calls that a crime? More like a public service. Still, they'll hang you for it. Even if you are a child."
"Nah. I'm going to get out of here."
He laughed, "Good luck with that. I'll expect the Maker to walk in here and sing us a sea chantey first, though."
I shrugged. I knew I would get out.
"Hey, guard?" I hailed the one passing by.
"If you're not bleeding, I don't care." he rolled his eyes.
"I'm just a child. I... where am I? What am I doing in... in a prison cell?!" I turned on the waterworks, laying it on a little thick.
His eyes became saucers, and he waved his arms through the air, "Whoa! Calm down! Calm down!"
The keys jangled loudly as he took the key ring from his person and unlocked my door. I waited until he'd poked his head in, before I jumped him and twisted his head sharply. His body crumbled to the floor in a heap. I swiped the keys.
I freed my neighbor before looking around. There was usually an evidence chest, in movies, where they held the prisoners' belongings. Ah, there it was, by one of the doors. All of my things were in it. I glanced around to see where the other prisoner was, but I couldn't find him. He'd already bolted, I assumed.
I shrouded myself in darkness, becoming invisible, and walked along the halls without incident. I passed a training room, an armory, another armory.
One of the guards there was talking to himself, "Maker's breath, I should've been made corporal by now. You never see them stuck polishing the rust off the armor."
I ignored him and decided to skip that room. A letter on the desk in the next room led me to believe I was somewhere called Fort Drakon. I hoped I was close to Denerim, if not in the city still. The exit hadn't taken long to reach, after that.
It was nice to breath fresh air after the stench of those holds. Judging by what I could see in the distance, I figured I was actually within the city walls.
...
The guard at the door started shouting, "She's back! The Warden is back!"
Up and down the halls, it echoed, every guard joining in. It was more than a bit unnerving.
"Maker's breath!" Eamon exclaimed when I walked in to the room he was in, "It's good to see you in one piece, my friend."
"Indeed. We have been praying for your safe return, Warden." the queen added.
"What happens now?" I looked to the arl.
"We will need to work together, and quickly." She answered for him, "My father has gone mad. I didn't believe it at first, but he is gripped by paranoia so severe it prevents him from seeing sense. He saw me as a threat, yet even now I'm certain he will be telling the nobles you are dangerous murderers that have kidnapped and mind-controlled me. He may even believe it."
"Can he still take the throne without you?"
"Perhaps. It will be more difficult for him, but if my father says the Grey Wardens are the enemy, many will believe it. He is a legend."
Eamon sighed, "It's true. Our position in the Landsmeet is not strong, and this does little to help us."
"At least that snake Howe is dead. That alone will not be enough, however. My father is committed to his path. You will need ammunition for the Landsmeet, and there I can help. You have only just arrived in the city, perhaps you are unaware of some... recent events. Denerim has been in turmoil since Ostagar. Many people here are angry or grieving." I allowed to her continue, thinking that maybe she'd give us information we didn't already have. "Strangely, the unrest if worst in the Alienage. Few elves accompanied the army. They should have little reason to be upset. Which means that Howe and my father must have given them reason."
The elves... had... little reason... to be upset...?
"I don't know what is happening there, but I am certain my father has his hands in it."
"A useful lead, Anora, but... you could have sent this information with your maid." He chastised her gently.
"That is true." She acceded, "I feared for my safety as Howe's prisoner, but to tell the truth, I sent Erlina to you because I hoped we might join forces." my skin started to crawl, and I knew one of the other Wardens had come to see where I was and what was holding me up. "You need evidence for the Landsmeet, but you also need a stronger candidate for the throne. You need me."
And there it was.
"It sounds more like you need us." I observed tersely.
"I have no doubt Alistair is biddable enough, and decent, but even with his blood, he is no king. You think only I can see it? Not only that, Alistair is a Grey Warden. It will look like you are trying to put a Grey Warden on the throne, despite your claims. I am a neutral party-and I am already queen."
"Anora, you are indeed Cailan's widow, but..." he trailed off.
"I am the daughter of Ferelden's greatest general. Who do you think truly ruled this nation for the last five years? Cailan? I am what this country needs, not an untrained king who does not even want the throne. I can help you stop my father. Consider what I have said. For now, I think I will retire to my room. Warden, when you have a moment, I ask that you speak to me in private." She and Erlina left, and I was glad to be rid of her.
"Well, she's quite... spirited. I remember when Loghain first brought her to Denerim." Arl Eamon reminisced, "Poor Cailan was a good boy, but Anora was always two steps ahead. Had him jumping when she snapped, since the fist time she batted her eyelashes." So, she'd always been this manipulative. "I cannot help thinking she may be trouble. But we should keep her close, all the same."
"I've got work to do." I resisted glancing over my shoulder to see who was skulking about.
"Of course. If I might make a suggestion: Go speak with Anora. She will either be a powerful ally, or a powerful enemy, and the sooner we know which she is, the better."
At least the old man hadn't been blinded by her charms and grace.
It was Alistair who had been waiting in the hall.
"There you are." He breathed a sigh of relief.
"You knew I was back. The whole city probably knows, what with all that shouting." I raised my voice, "You guys can stop, now! Everyone knows!"
"Come on." Chuckling, he motioned for me to walk with him. We ended up at the library again.
I sank in to one of the armchairs, loving how soft and comfy it was. A sigh left me, my eyes closing.
"Tell me what happened after Zevran came back without me."
"It was horrible, seeing the three of them walk in without you." He shook his head, frowning, "I thought Eamon was going to have a heart attack, when she ran in to the room, yelling that she'd possibly made a terrible mistake."
I cracked one eye open and rolled it for his benefit.
"Zevran gave her quite the scolding, too." Alistair chuckled, "He actually asked if there was a reason he shouldn't slit her throat and toss her in the river!"
I gasped, both eyes open now, riveted, "Holy... What happened after that?"
"She tried to explain herself, and he ripped in to her, telling all of us what had happened before she had the chance to spin her tale."
Grinning, I sighed and leaned back in the chair, closing my eyes, "That was sweet of him. See? That's why I like you people. My people. I chose you all for a reason."
"You chose me, did you? If I recall, you were forced to have me tag along."
"That's what you think." I smirked, "If you hadn't been a helpful companion, I would have left you behind at one point or another. I'm quite good at disappearing."
A shudder ran through me. That was the only warning to the violence I was about to see.
The setting was farther than any other vision I'd had previously. Alistair had aged ten, fifteen years. And he was wearing Grey Warden armor. There were other people there, as well. People I didn't know.
A choice was being made.
And Alistair had been chosen.
Alistair was being left.
I didn't understand the significance, until the picture zoomed out. Green covered everything. Green tendrils snaked out, trying to find purchase on anything it could reach.
It was the Fade.
A scream bubbled up from my chest as the other people left through what looked like a rift in the veil that separated the Fade from Thedas. I could feel the tears streaming down my face, the soreness in my throat.
The scene changed, and now Alistair was wearing a regal set of armor, and I knew he had been made king. The outcome was different: He wasn't there to begin with. He wasn't there. He wouldn't be left in the Fade, if he took the throne. I had to tell him. I had to tell him! Convince him!
Two side-by-side visions threw me off balance, one comparing to the other. In the left one, Ferelden was quiet and subdued. A land torn by war with Orlais. The right one depicted a bustling and thriving Ferelden. A truce with Orlais.
The only difference was the ruler. Anora was left, Alistair was right.
It wasn't just the best thing for him, the country deserved it, too.
"Don't cover her nose! She'll suffocate!" What a great thing to come back to. Alistair was pacing in a panicked line, telling whoever had their hand over my mouth what not to do.
I reached up and tugged on the person's wrist.
"Are you all right?" The Antivan accent came from behind my ear.
"I'm fine. Please. I need air." The anxiety was building within me, and I felt like a time-bomb, "Alistair, I need you to be king. You have to be king. Ferelden needs it. You need it. The future is horrible, terrible, with Anora as queen. Please. At least consider it. I'm begging you." My sobs started anew, my breath coming in short, quick gasps.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Calm down! Calm down. It's okay." he grabbed my shoulders, forcing me to look at him. "It's all right. You're here, not in the vision. Everything is all right."
"But it won't be." I hiccuped, trying to sniffle, but my lack of ability to breathe made it difficult, "The Fade... and you get left... and Ferelden is a war zone... Anora is a horrible queen. She doesn't deserve to put this country through that!" I was shouting, my voice faint and only my companions heard it, but I couldn't control myself.
"Ana. Ana, take a deep breath. Just breathe. It's okay. If what you saw was so bad, I'll go with it. I trust you. If you say it's better for both Ferelden and me if I'm king, I'll take the throne."
"You promise?" I stared at him through watery eyes, searching his face.
"I promise."
An hour or two passed, where I calmed down enough to smile and joke with the two men about how Zevran had treated Anora. This time, I had the elf's words straight from his mouth.
"Arl Eamon wants you at the Landsmeet soon, Ser and Sera." A servant ran in to the room, and I groaned. I had just gotten comfortable again, too. No time to rest for the wicked, I guess.