Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age or any of its related characters. This is just for my own enjoyment and the potential enjoyment of other fans like me, and no monetary gain was expected or received.
Rating: T
Spoilers: May contain spoilers for Origins, Origins DLC, Awakening, and Dragon Age II, Dragon Age II DLC, Dragon Age Inquisition as well as the novels The Stolen Throne and The Calling.
Chapter Two: Cream of the Crop
The chosen from the melees gathered in the Landsmeet chamber. Fergie Cousland corralled her rambunctious younger brother, who was giving the eye to a few too many of the women in the crowd. "Briefing first, Elijah, and then you can worry about… briefs." The Iron Ewe ushered in her Rams, but held them to the back of the chamber. "You'll get a good enough view from here, guys," she said.
"Yeah, maybe you will," the dwarven woman among them said. "You guys are tall."
"You wanna stand on my shoulders, Rocksy?" The Ewe said.
"Thanks, I'm good, boss," the dwarf said.
The Queen came out onto the balcony above wearing a red silk gown trimmed in gold taffeta. "Wish I had the hips to pull off something like that," Cremisius "Crème" Aclassi said, right at the moment that Loghaina Mac Tir moved into place to stand about one foot in front of the queen with her arms folded over her chest and her body encased in massive armor blocking most of the view of the pretty monarch.
"Yeah, Creamy. She's got a great shape," The Ewe said, with an eye roll.
"I didn't mean the steel-built High Dragon," Crème said. "I meant the Queen."
"I'm pretty sure that armor is silverite," The Ewe said. "And you're right, Creamy, you just ain't got the hips for a gown like that."
"Eat dirt, Chief," Crème said.
"Hey, I couldn't pull that off, either, and I've got boobs from here to Rialto Bay. Luck of the draw, Creamy. Luck of the draw."
"That and all the scars, Chief. Plus the missing eye."
"Yeah, Cream. That, too. Creamy?"
"What, Chief?"
"You know, your lady armor is pretty short. I hope it never flips up in front. That's a buffalo shot no one wants to see."
Eat shit, Chief."
The Ewe laughed and clapped Crème on the back so hard she staggered. "Listen to the Queen, Fish-Breath."
The Royal Lady did not step out from behind the scowling teyrna, but she addressed the crowd with grandeur and a shining smile regardless. "Warriors, mages, rogues. We need your services, not for the sake of Ferelden, but for the sake of Thedas itself. For the sake of Ferelden, Orlais -" Here the teyrna snorted loudly, and interrupted Her Majesty. She repeated herself, with a stern green gaze at the back of her friend's dark head. "-Orlais, the Free Marches, Nevarra, Rivain, Antiva, Par Vollen, Tevinter, and the Anderfels. The problem, good people, is that they do not know this, and if we were to tell them… they would not believe us."
"I'm having a hard time believin' it meself," a bowl-cut blond-headed elven man said, adopting a cocked-hip stance with his arms crossed over his narrow chest.
The Queen went on regardless of grumbles. "We have received intelligence from a source we are not willing to gainsay. This source tells us that a paradox has occurred at the southern edge of our kingdom. A paradox, simply put, is a twist in the fabric of time and space that creates a disturbance in our plane of existence that must be put right or it will create massive destruction on an unparalleled scale. This paradox is growing, and it will not stop until it swallows the world."
"Well how are a bunch of sword-swingers supposed to stop something like that?" someone, a blonde-haired young templar recruit who looked quite a bit like the Queen herself asked very loudly, raising her hands in bewilderment. "A twist in time and space? A disturbance in our plane of existence?"
The Teyrna spoke, grunting her words out gruffly but loud enough for all to hear. "We go to the south. We find this 'rift' in time we were told about. We kill everything that's pouring out of it from this other plane of existence. We find the paradox on our plane and we shove it back through the rift to where it belongs. Then… the guy who told us about the rift in the first place seals it. End of story."
"How will we know this 'paradox' when we see it?" a dark-skinned, smooth-headed man, tall and stately in elegant Orlesian mage robes, asked from the floor. "I understand the concept - it's something that doesn't belong here. But that could still apply to nearly anything."
"Our… informant says we'll know it when we see it," Loghaina said.
"Who is this 'informant?' Why won't you name him? You're being awfully secretive," the well-dressed mage said.
Loghaina turned halfway to give the Queen a look. Queen Marica stepped forward and smiled over the crowd. "It is no secret, it is only that most of you have probably never heard of him, though he has some notoriety here in Ferelden. Fleming, the Warlock of the Wilds."
"Fleming?" Elijah Cousland said, wrinkling his nose. "You get your information from a myth, Your Majesty?" His sister jostled him roughly.
A bolt of lightning shot down from nowhere, scattering the assembled. A tall man in dragonscale robes with raven-feather pauldrons, his long white hair swept back into what looked like dragon horns, appeared among them, yellow eyes cold and piercing. "Do I look like a myth, Ser Cousland?" he asked. "Would anyone else like to postulate that I do not exist?"
More grumbling and nervous muttering from the crowd. The elegant mage man tossed his smooth-shaven head. "A mage of great power, surely, but you needn't be mythical. What proof does anyone have that you are this… 'Fleming?'"
"The Queen's word," Loghaina barked from the balcony. "That is all the proof you require."
"Why, of all the insufferable -" the smooth-headed mage began, but Fleming held up a hand to silence him.
"You'd better keep silent and not anger her. You wouldn't like the Mac Tir when she is angered," he said, with a thin, superior sort of smile.
"What is she now? She certainly doesn't look happy. She doesn't even look female."
"That? That's her happy face. You don't want to see her angry face," the warlock said. "Her eyes turn red, she breathes blue flame, and she transforms into a creature ugly and baleful enough to turn a man into stone at a glance." He laughed a high, unpleasant laugh.
"You'd better fucking believe it, too," the Teyrna said.
"So I suppose you'd be the one to ask for all our remaining Paradox-mystery questions," a black-haired lady mage in Tevinter robes said, looking at Fleming.
Fleming gestured at the balcony. "I rather think the Lady and Her Majesty explained it fairly clearly."
"Except for the whole 'What is this paradox?' thing," the woman said.
"It's not really a thing, actually," Flemeth said. "It is a person. That's why you'll know it when you'll see it. It doesn't belong here. It doesn't actually belong on the other side of the rift, either, but I know where to put it when we find it."
"And why can't you do that on your own?" the smooth-headed man said.
"Because that person is too powerful for me alone," Fleming said. "That, and all the monsters pouring through the rift from the other realm, too fast and too furious to push back through by magic. They must be destroyed, lest they take over our world and destroy it completely. They act something like miniature paradoxes in and of themselves, but there isn't anything like them here to create a space-time disturbance, only the standard ecological disturbance caused by there being no natural predators for them. That is why all of you are needed."
A bald-headed elven woman stepped out of the shadows in the back corner of the chamber. "I begin to understand," she said. "This paradox - this person from another realm - exists here already. That is where the paradox comes into play."
Fleming gave her a look very cold and very hard. "Indeed. You stated it very clearly and concisely, Milady Sola."
"You know my name," the woman said. "But then… I am not surprised, if you are in fact the Fleming of legend."
"I know all your names. I know much about all of you. But then, you know much about me, as well, don't you, Milady Sola?"
"I am familiar with the legend, yes." Fleming smiled that thin, superior smile at Sola, and Sola only smiled a similar narrow-eyed smile in return.
"Did you ever feel like everyone else knows what's going on, but you only know a small part of the story?" the dark-haired Tevinter woman said.
The Teyrna stepped to the balcony rail and slammed both gauntlets down hard upon it. The sound rang throughout the chamber. "All right. You all know the deal, now. You've heard what's what. The only thing you really need to know from here is that this rift might not be the only one. If we don't get to it and close it quick, more might open up, all over Thedas. We might be traveling some distance. So make sure you bring your comfortable boots if you're coming along. We're not providing horses for any of you."
"I thought you wanted to get there quickly, before this thing spreads?" Felix Hawke shouted from the back of the crowd.
"We do. But we'll get there faster walking than by teaching half of you how to ride," the Teyrna said. "Besides, it would take up an unconscionable number of the Crown's horses to mount you all. The army needs them while we're gone, in case of trouble."
"What kind of trouble are you expecting, Your Ladyship?" Arlessa Howe, not one of the contenders but present nevertheless, asked.
"I'm always expecting trouble. That's why there hasn't been any lately," the Teyrna said.
"While you are off supervising this quest, Milady Teyrna, who will be looking out for the nation?" Howe said.
"It's Queen, as always," the Teyrna said.
"Really? I was under the impression she was going along with you. That is what she said."
The Teyrna spun to face the Queen. She snarled. "Marica."
The Queen shrugged. "What? I haven't had an adventure in twenty years! You can't have all the fun, you know. What do the kids call that? Bogarting?"
The Teyrna grabbed the Queen by the shoulder and dragged her through the doorway into the next room, slamming the door behind them. "Marica. You cannot come with us!"
"Why not? Cailene can take care of the nation in my absence. Anoro can help her. It'll be a good start for them. Get their beaks wet, so to speak."
"Cailene is not mature enough to take care of an entire country."
"What's wrong with Cailene? Are you misogynist or something?"
Loghaina gave her a very dirty look. "Marica. I'm a woman. You're a woman. You cannot look me in the eye and honestly accuse me of being misogynistic. It's Cailene. You raised her to believe in fairy tales, and now she believes she's a fairy tale princess and all must bow to her and her spun sugar fantasies. She's a little girl trapped in a woman's body and she will never, ever grow up, Marica. I'm scared to death of the day she takes the throne, Marica. I mean that."
"Anoro will be there by her side."
"My one small consolation. But Anoro won't rule alone, and Cailene may be juvenile, but she's also stubborn as a mule. Do you really believe that Anoro will have the power to rein her in when she gets some crackpot idea in her head?"
"Ruling is a difficult thing, my friend. It may actually mature her. I know you believe that impossible."
"Oh bosh. That girl knows nothing of the real world and never shall. You saw to that."
"Yes. It is all my fault. Everything is always my fault."
"She's your daughter. You should have seen to it she had a little practical education. But I get it. You didn't want her touched by the horrors we had to face. I understand, Marica, don't think that I don't. But you didn't do this nation any favors by coddling your child this way."
"And what about you? What about Anoro? Did you do him any favors, beefing him up and then tearing him down? You didn't even let him enter the competition."
"I don't tear my son down."
"You don't exactly let him spread his wings, either."
"How can I? He's going to be King. By your wishes, not my own."
"You signed the marriage contract, my friend. Don't try to weasel out of it now."
"I know. I wish to the Maker I hadn't. I took my son's future out of his hands, just like my father took mine away from me when he sent me away with you."
"Do you regret that?"
"Every time I'm up all night signing off on endless writs of petition. Which is every night."
"I'm coming along. Cailene and Anoro can handle things while we're gone."
"Queens don't go haring off on mad quests to save the world. They let their underlings like me do that for them. That's what we're for, dammit!"
"Oh, flibbertigibbet!" Marica swore. Loghaina was taken aback.
"Flibbertigibbet?" she said. "Marica, what in the Void? Nobody ever says 'flibbertigibbet.' Where'd you come up with that stinkburger?"
"Queens can't swear."
"Flibbertigibbet is swearing. Really… weak swearing. Really, you'd be much better off not to say anything at all."
"I'm coming along."
"You know, Marica, I really hate you sometimes."
"I'm coming. You can't do anything about it."
"I could stuff you in a locked wardrobe."
"I'd chop off your head."
"Really fucking hate you, sometimes."
"Our public awaits."
"Really fucking hate you."
"I love you too, my friend. Now be a good girl, and let's announce our plans." Growling, the Teyrna led the way back onto the balcony.