This probably could have been added to the previous chapter, but I wasn't quite happy with this part, so decided to spruce it up first and then post as a separate chapter. Hope you don't mind…I don't think that last chapter ended with a cliffie (ah, right?),but here you go…

As always, my thanks to those who read, alert, favorite and especially review!

DragonAge: The Halla Reborn

Chapter 74

Mere hours after the Landsmeet found Adela and most of her companions locked away in the library at Eamon's townhouse. Loghain, in his capacity of Ferelden's General, had gone to meet with the nobles and other commanders, trying to piece together where the armies of Ferelden stood. He had needed to get to work, to busy himself in the familiar, to ease his own grief. Fergus, still having a small army of Highever's soldiers at his command, had accompanied the elder noble to the meeting.

Prior to taking his leave, Fergus had offered up his family's in town estate for Adela and her companions to use.

"It's just on the backside of the Palace District, along the North Wall," he had said before departing with Loghain, his dark eyes fixed upon the elven warden, taking note of just how drawn her face was. "It is one of the larger estates in Denerim, with plenty of rooms…" his voice trailed off as he choked on his own growing sorrow. Taking a breath, he said just before turning to leave, Loghain at his side. "Roland will know where it is and how to gain entrance."

The companions planned on taking the young Teryn on his offer. However, Adela had been loath to leave without first knowing, with certainty, where she and Alistair stood.

She had not seen him since the Landsmeet and was growing anxious.

So, here they stood, poring over maps they had already studied and memorized over the weeks of their stay in the capitol.

The elf had become withdrawn, eyes every now and again rising toward the chamber's sole door, shoulders tense, spine straight. Sten had taken a position beside the doorway, eyes focused upon the elf and the others, a rather unusual look of annoyance marring his rugged features, a gleam of anger in his lavender eyes.

Before them, upon the table, were spread several maps. Oghren was bent over one depicting the pass from Orzammar toward the King's Highway. "I'd bet my left nut that the armies'r well past this point," he tapped a thick finger upon the map before pushing the parchment away. Lifting dark green eyes, he shrugged. "Betcha the Brosca kid'll be on 'er way here soon 'nugh with word o'the boyos from Orzammar."

Nodding, Adela turned her gaze back to the maps, completely aware and fully ignoring the concerned looks her friends cast above her head.

She knew that her friends were concerned for her. Zevran and Roland had both been ready to go locate Alistair and 'talk' some sense into Ferelden's new king. Wynne had expressed her own disapproval with a tightening of her lips as Leliana had tried to offer her own sympathy by remaining close to Adela's side, offering a hug every now and again. Niall and Anders continued to glance over at her, concern heavy within their expressive eyes as Sten would glare at the door.

Frankly, the elf was starting to get rather annoyed at her friends, despite their well-meaning attitudes.

Morrigan's offer to turn Alistair into a toad, however, had managed to elicit the smallest of smiles from the elf.

"Morrigan," Adela had said, her voice tight and weary, "if you had the ability to turn him into a toad, I think that you would have done so by now."

The beautiful witch had merely shrugged her slender shoulders gracefully, a feral gleam in her golden eyes. "Mayhaps I have merely been awaiting the ultimate in stupidity from our resident idiot," she said, her smooth tones and archaic grammar flowing over the elf. "I wouldst think that this very moment would constitute the height of stupidity on that fool's part."

Adela had merely shaken her head, ignoring the assent that rose from the others. "He's not stupid, Morrigan," the elf had instead defended her husband, "he is only doing what he thinks is best." Her voice had faltered, fading toward the end of her statement and even Morrigan had ceased her insults, concern twisting her features as her gaze fixed upon her friend.

There came a brief knock at the door before it swung open. Alistair, now dressed in trousers and tunic, stepped through. Behind him, Sten glared at his back, moving forward slightly as the human male entered the chamber.

All eyes settled first upon Alistair's quiet form before slipping to Adela, who had pushed away from the table, hands trembling slightly as her blue eyes – fearful and moist – rose to settle upon the features of the man she loved.

Seemingly noticing Adela discomfort, Alistair raised a hand, brushing the back of his neck in a purely familiar manner. "We need to talk," he stated simply.

Nodding, Adela moved forward, but was stopped by a slender hand upon her shoulder. Turning confused eyes, she looked over to see Wynne at her shoulder, the old mage's faded blue eyes fixed upon Alistair.

"I think that perhaps you should say whatever is needed here, Alistair," Wynne stated firmly, her hand tightening its hold upon the elf, trying to convey that the young woman had her support.

The others in the room nodded their agreement, Oghren muttering a curse under his breath as Anders moved closer to the front, his own brown eyes fixed sternly upon the other man.

Eyes flashing with irritation, Alistair frowned. "I think that perhaps this is a bit more on the personal side, and not open for a public display."

"Public?" Leliana questioned, a frown forming between her delicate brow. "We are family here, Alistair. Whatever you have to say to Adela affects us as well." She glanced over at Adela, who seemed at a loss for words, before continuing. "We are all rather aware of what you are going to say. Why can't we be here to offer our support for our friend?"

Letting out a shaky breath, Alistair looked over at Adela, who was now staring at her feet. Nodding, he then said. "Adela," the elf raised her head at the utterance of her name. "You know what I need to do..."

Adela nodded her head, eyes cast downward. She knew…she understood…but she so very much wanted…

There was a sharp curse from behind and the elf turned to watch as a snarling Roland surged forward until he stood mere inches from Alistair, the junior Grey Warden growling in the other man's face, "You can't just do that without good reason…" he began, surprised when the younger male's frown tightened into a scowl and his hands flashed outward, pushing the red-haired man back.

"Reason?" Alistair snarled right back into Roland's face. "Oh, I've got reason!" He looked over at Adela, who was watching the pair, confusion and hurt clearly upon her face. Looking back at the redhead, he continued. "I just thought that I would…spare her the humiliation and just leave it at a racial difference for annulling our marriage!"

"What reason?" Adela's voice was small and confused as was the expression that crossed her face.

Pushing past Roland, Alistair took the few steps to stand directly in front of the elven woman he had loved. "I saw you!" He flung his arm backwards toward where Roland stood, glaring at him. "Ser Perth saw you! It explains a whole hell of a lot of things!" He bent down, practically yelling in the startled girl's face. "How long did you think you could keep that up, anyway?"

Stepping back, Adela raised her face. "What are you talking about?"

"You were seen, in the gardens at Redcliff, the gardens here," the irate young man turned to return Roland's glare. "with him!" His hands flew up, tangling briefly in his hair before releasing and slipping to his sides. " I was an idiot! Of course that's why you took him with you on missions and errands!" He turned back around to face Adela, pain mingling with anger upon his reddening face. "Why I was always left behind…" his voice trailed off, but he continued to glare down at the smaller woman.

It took a moment – even as the others in the room comprehended what Alistair was accusing Adela of – for it to click within Adela's mind. As the realization came, she shook her head, stepping forward a step, a hand rising toward the man.

"No," the word was whispered, and filled with as much pain as the elf could possibly fix within the single syllable. "No," her voice strengthened slightly, and a pained expression crossed her face as Alistair shook his head, backing away.

"I know what I saw," he said, defeated, all of the anger having run out of him in a great current. "And I doubt Ser Perth would lie about such a thing." He fixed his gaze – now softer – upon the girl as he continued. "I'll just annul our marriage, based on the fact that, as an elf you cannot possibly sit at my side."

"To save face," Adela whispered, all strength having gone from her frame. Wynne's hand had never left her shoulder, and the elder mage now stepped forward, offering her very form, frail as it may seem, as support for the elf's own.

Alistair took a deep breath, frowning. "If you had only told me that I wasn't who you wanted…" he shook his head, turning away so as not to watch as Adela shook her head in denial. "It doesn't matter now, anyway. You and I are through."

With those parting words, he turned on his heel, and left the chamber, his heart tearing apart at the sound of the choked sob that rose from Adela's chest.

DA:O

After the commotion had died down – after the corpses of Arawn Amell and Ser Cauthrien had been removed; after the queen's body had been quietly removed to the Chantry for funeral preparations, Riordan had slipped away. While he felt a certain pity for the elven warden and what he knew would happen, as unhappy as he was that Alistair – going against Grey Warden tradition and protocol – had taken the crown of the kingdom, the senior most Grey Warden knew he had a job to do. And perhaps, events unfolding as they had could be of use to the Grey Wardens, if not now, then in the future.

As the Warden rogue slipped quietly and unseen through the Great Hall and out the front door, he recounted, again, what had happened with regards to the blood mage. He had been sorely disappointed with Adela and her decision not to induct the powerful mage into their ranks. Magic was the most powerful tool the Wardens had at their disposal against the darkspawn; blood magic even more so. And yet, she had not only argued against and denied taking the powerful mage into their ranks, she had only initiated one mage throughout the entire year she had been wandering the countryside, building up her armies. One mage; one warrior.

He shook his head, frowning as he turned down a darkened alleyway, making his way toward the front district of the city.

Never before had he reason to doubt any decision his old friend, Duncan, would make. Certainly the other warden had been more of a rogue among the warden ranks than any other he had known. Especially in his younger days. He had fought against becoming a warden, had tried his hardest to escape, even after the Joining, determined to live as normal a life as he could, despite the Taint coursing through his veins. However, especially during this past decade, Riordan had taken note of a shift in the other Warden's personality.

And he had not been the only one to take notice.

No longer was he rebellious or argumentative; no longer did he fight tooth and nail against the orders handed down by the senior wardens within their ranks, or attempted to show restraint or mercy for those who did not wish to become Wardens. Almost overnight, just over ten years ago, a calm acceptance had come over the other man, and he had become the perfect Warden, obeying orders without question, inducting anyone worthy of the title – anyone of skill and talent – into their ranks. Riordan had witnessed – more than once – Duncan conscripting a reluctant candidate, even to the point of forcing the unwilling at the point of one of his deadly daggers, to partake of the Joining.

Riordan had never figured out Duncan's sudden change of heart; however he, like so many others, had rejoiced in the change.

Dissention among the ranks of the Grey Wardens was never encouraged. Riordan knew that, had his friend continued on with his recalcitrant nature, the First Warden would have had no other choice but to…permanently remove the brash influence, however distasteful and wasteful such a decision would have proven.

Skirting a crowd near the front gate, the elder Grey Warden easily slipped by the guards, passing through the gates, turning southward.

Adela would be a problem. He knew this. She had strong candidates for the Joining currently within her ranks, powerful magi, skilled warriors and talented rogues all. He snorted as he jogged along the highway, feeling the pull to the Taint within his blood. Upon his return from this brief scouting mission, he would need to sit down with the young Commander. And, if she would not see reason, take the necessary steps to ensure that they had the necessary Grey Wardens within their ranks to stop the Archdemon.

DA:O

There was a commotion at the front gates. Large groups of humans were gathered, talking in excited voices, children running around, weaving between the legs of the adults, playing games of tag as their parents talked about a near miracle that had recently occurred.

Slipping virtually unnoticed among the taller humans (and completely ignoring the desire to, well, perhaps slip a purse or two into her pocket), Natia caught only brief phrases from the nearby humans.

"King" and "Maric" stood out the most from what garbled words she could – or rather would take the time to – make out. All well and good, she thought as she made her way from the front gates to the market place, wherein she knew the townhouse of that human Arl – Edwin, Andrew…ah, heck! Whatever! Some human noble! – was located within.

The dwarven girl glanced back, a giggle at the back of her throat as she considered the nature of the allies she had left behind at the dwarven camps.

The archdemon wasn't gonna know what hit him!

DA:O

"I don't understand why we have to go in there," the blond elf grumbled, glaring over at the leader of their group.

Their leader, the curly headed mage, Theron, chuckled as he ran a long fingered hand through the unruly locks. "Personally, I'd rather like to meet this Warden Commander," he stated rather simply, glancing over at his friends. Turning, he looked over to where Pol trudged along, eyes wide as he considered the front gates of his former home city.

Noticing the mage's attention upon him, the younger elf nodded, frantic and eager to prove of some worth to the Dalish. "We can go to the Alienage," he tried, unsuccessfully, to ignore Junar's growl. "I mean, we won't stand out so much there, and I'll bet Shianni has heard from Adela by now."

"I still cannot believe that an elf leads the Ferelden Grey Wardens," Junar finally relented, his face easing from the tense scowl he had striven so hard to maintain.

"Grey Wardens, as a group, if not individually, do not tend to allow bigotry and racism to cloud their perceptions of those who are skilled and powerful," Theron said as they stopped before the gates, glancing over at the guards who were eyeing the small group of tattooed elves with wary interest.

Stopping, the trio of elves looked over to the human soldiers as one pushed against the wall, bringing himself to his feet and sauntered over to the trio.

"Oi!" the human male called out, dark eyes suspicious and glaring at the three men. "What you want here, elves?"

With a quick glance back to his companions, Theron stepped forward, bowing slightly at the waist. "I am Theron," he introduced himself, "and these are Pol and Junar, of the Mahriel Clan," the other two nodded their heads at the human. "We are here to offer our clan's aid to the Grey Warden commander against the Blight."

Round eyes widening, the human soldier glanced over at his partner, who had likewise detached himself from his position against the wall and walked over.

"Take care, Mark," the other man stated as he approached the small group. "Kylon made mention that the Warden's allies should be starting to make their appearance here," then he turned to the elves and then, much to the surprise of not only the elves but his fellow guard as well, bowed deeply to the trio.

"Welcome to Denerim." He straightened. "I have word that you pass through these gates, unmolested. You should find the Warden Commander and her companions in the townhouse of Arl Eamon, just off the market place." He frowned slightly, pausing, before adding. "The Alienage is also off of the market district as well. Someone there may also know where to reach the Commander, in case she is not at the Arl's residence."

After taking a moment to regain their composure, the three elves thanked the soldier, stepping around him and through the gates, and into the bustle of the human city.

DA:O

It had been a rather somber affair, the group of Wardens and non-wardens repacking their equipment and supplies, shouldering their packs and making the short journey from the townhouse to the Palace District.

No one had said anything since Alistair had departed, taking his leave. None knew where the young man had gone to, and, at the moment, they could only be grateful that the former (was he former?) Grey Warden chose to leave the estates while Adela and the others packed. While the Arl's townhouse had been perfectly situated to make their plans and await any allies, the atmosphere had thickened, tense and uncomfortable. Isolde had been disappointed, but understanding, and had sent along several servants to assist the Warden and their companions with their move, sending these servants ahead to the Teryn's estate with the bulk of their gear.

As she turned to thank the noblewoman for her hospitality and assistance, Adela found herself pulled into a surprisingly strong and sure embrace. Her surprise was short lived as she returned the noble's embrace, whispering her thanks.

"Everything works out for the best," Isolde had whispered as the two women pulled apart. A small, sad smile crossed the human's scarred features as she looked into the elven woman's tense face. "It may not seem it now, but, in time, you will see."

Taking a breath, all Adela could do was nod her head in reply. Understanding, Isolde brushed a stray lock of hair from the smaller woman's face. Then, with another nod, the two pulled apart.

Isolde and Gail walked the companions to the front door, and stood upon the entrance stairs, watching as they made their way from the district to their new – temporary – base of operations.

Once they were gone, a determined expression crossed Isolde's face as she turned to her loyal servant. Their eyes met and a silent understanding passed between the two. With a final glance toward the market's center they turned and the pair stepped back into the townhouse.