Frostback Mountains

Torph had forgotten how fucking cold the mountainside was. He followed the path Sten and Shale were carving out for them through the thick snow, trying not to fall face first into the snow. Narascha was lagging behind, and he had a horrible feeling it wasn't because of her armour. Nah, she was worrying over Orzammar. Not that he blamed her.

"I can see the gates!" Leliana called out, excited, her eyes were bright and eager, even as Torph eyed Narascha again, whose eyes hardened.

"Wait," she said.

Faren frowned. "You okay, Narascha?"

"I know everyone wanted to go inside Orzammar, with the exception of Bohdan and Sandal. I had originally planned to wait out with them, but I wish to see Orzammar's state," Narascha admitted with a heavy sigh. "Can you all pretend that I'm not Narascha while I'm here? I refuse to jeopardise gaining our treaty while I am here, but I would like to see my father one last time nevertheless."

Torph snorted. "We can't just pretend you're not here, Princess."

She tugged up her hood, hiding away her hair and most of her face, which she probably should have been doing earlier like the rest of them, considering how fucking cold it was. "Yes you can. As long as you treat me as a companion instead of a Grey Warden we will be fine. I'll not speak. Instead I'll pretend I'm mute unless the need arises that I must talk."

"This is foolish." Sten scowled. "You did not do the deed so your name is clear."

"It's politics, Sten. I will not be proven innocent, especially not when my father made it clear he would use me as a scapegoat to avoid a scandal," Narascha replied, bowing her head. "So please. Just do this, for me. Let Narascha Aeducan continue to be dead in the eyes of Orzammar."

"If you let me put a flaming fist up Bhelen's ass-" Lawrien grumbled.

"Not our ally, Lawrien," Ciara sighed heavily. "We need to dwarves of Orzammar to fight the Blight."

Zevran winked. "I'll try poison his dinner so he's stuck in the toilet for days."

Lawrien cackled. "Go, Zev!"

Narascha's lips twitched into a faint grin. "I have to admit that would be nice."

Ciara sighed, but there was a fond smile on her face. "We'll hide your identity until you see fit, Narascha, besides with our bounties still being circulated, I'm not entirely comfortable leaving you along out here for any manner of bounty hunter to try claim your head. In Orzammar at least the bounties on us are void, but out here in the Frostback Mountains they still exist."

"I will admit, I am looking forward to getting inside," Wynne said, clutching her cloak over herself tightly. "I am freezing. A drink should be lovely I think, perhaps something hot."

Torph snorted. "Now we're talking. A dwarven past time. Alcohol."

It took them another twenty minutes to finish making their way up the mountainside, much to Torph's protest. His legs were aching. Damn mountains. So much walking.

Urgh, he hated it.

"Need a lift, my fine dwarven friend?" Zevran grinned at him.

"Shut it, you. You're about to shiver off the mountainside," Torph grumbled.

"It is cold," Zevran admitted. "I am with Wynne on this one. A good hot drink would be amazing right now. I can't feel my toes."

"I can't feel my ears," Faren said, tugging his hood up over his head tighter.

Epona scowled. "You all complain too much."

"It is cold," Morrigan insisted. "I think we're all going to freeze to death up here first."

"How are you two okay?" Lawrien gestured at them. "Morrigan, you're arms and chest are bare, and Epona, you've got your thighs and arms out. Is that a Dalish thing?"

"It is Dalish leathers," Epona huffed.

"At least we won't have to worry a bout the Blight anymore," Faren joked.

"Yeah, that would be-" Torph began, but paused when they arrived at the shop keepers all camping out at the gate.

One of them looked absolutely terrified of Sten, and Lawrien was already walking his way.

"We're looking for a qunari sword," Lawrien said, crossing her arms.

"A kyun what? I'm sorry, I don't know what that is," the man said desperately.

Sten stormed up to them, his face hard. "Where is my sword?" he demanded.

"I'd give him it," Narascha said. "I saw him almost break a tree in half once with his fist."

"I have some swords," Faryn began, scrambling over to a chest on top of his cart, which he shakily unlocked and hoisted open.

There were a lot of huge swords in there.

Sten carefully scanned through the chest, his frown deepening as he went along.

"One of them is missing," Sten growled lowly. "These belong to my men, yes, but where is my sword?"

"I sold it on the way here!"

"Who to?" Lawrien asked.

"I sold it to a dwarf in Redcliffe. Name of Dwyn."

Narascha perked up. "He fought with us during the undead attack."

"I guess we can go get it when we head back to Redcliffe," Lawrien said, eyeing Sten, who deflated.

"At least you got your people's blades back," Narascha reminded him.

"True." Sten grimaced. "But I still need my sword."

"We know, but you'll have to be patient. It won't be much longer," Narascha reassured.

"We can secure the rest of them in the Grey Warden guest house," Ciara said. "Along with Narascha's axe, which we better disguise."

"Yeah, it is pretty noticeable," Narascha murmured.

Sten nodded. "You can put it in the chest with my brethren's swords, Narascha."

Narascha startled at that, then softened and smiled. "Thank you, that would be great."

"Remember to keep your armour covered too," Torph reminded her. "It's got both Orzammar and Aeducan symbols on it."

Narascha nodded. "I'll pin my cloak so it won't open too much."

"Then let's get moving," Torph said. "The sooner we get in here, sooner we get out."

He was excited to see his sister again, don't get him wrong, but otherwise he didn't miss Orzammar one bit.

Everyone apart from Rica and Leske were fuckers.

.:.

The front of the gates seemed busy. Faren counted six men standing in front of the guards, one of them in better armour than the rest. He must have been the captain of his troops or something. The man was arguing with the two dwarves guarding the gates, his face almost red from anger.

"Greetings, good guardsman," Alistair greeted as they climbed the steps. "We have urgent business with the King of Orzammar."

"Who doesn't?" the angry man scowled. "If I can't get in then nobody shouldn't."

Cobian leaned in, voice low as he tugged his hood firmly in place. "He's one of Uncle Loghain's head messengers."

"Orzammar has no King," the guard said solemnly.

Faren heard Narascha's choked gasp and reached out, clinging to her hand. She squeezed his tight, eyes teary, her face fallen.

Shit. They had arrived too late.

"King Endrin returned to the Stone after the loss of two of his children."

"I wonder whose fault that was," Torph growled beneath his breath.

Thankfully the guardsman didn't hear him. "The Assembly has gone through a dozen votes, but we still have no clear successor. If it is not settled soon we risk civil war."

Ciara grimaced. "That's quite the worse possible timing. We need our dwarven allies to stop the Blight."

The guardsman raised a brow. "Your dwarven allies?"

Ciara bowed her head. "I am senior Grey Warden Ciara Trevelyan of Ferelden. A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Guardsmen. We're here with our Commander, Lawrien Amell, to gain your people's strength and courage to defeat the Blight."

The messenger spluttered.

Lawrien cackled.

"Th-The Wardens killed King Cailan and nearly doomed all of Ferelden-" The messenger began.

"Excuse me?" Cobian yanked back his hood, his face murderous. "Who killed Cailan?"

The messenger went paled. "L-Lord Cousland?!"

"You dare accuse me and my fellow Grey Wardens of killing my brother figure? My King?" Cobian continued coldly. "I who would have died by his side while Uncle Loghain had you and your men retreat?"

"I-I-"

"You." Cobian hissed. "If you value your life you'll run far away from me right now."

Faren noticed Ciara climb the steps with a smile and hand the guardsman the treaty for Orzammar. The guardsman looked torn between watching Cobian and reading the treaty, but in the end read the scroll.

Lawrien's hands roared with fire. "You heard Cobian. Run," she ordered.

The small group bolted. Instantly Cobian relaxed, his hands leaving his sword's pommel. Faren kept an eye and ear out to make sure Loghain's messenger was gone, before returning his attention to the guardsmen who looked thoughtful and nodded as he handed Ciara the treaty back.

"That is the royal seal which means the Assembly will have to address this with our good King gone." The guard gestured to the gates, and with a heavy clank they began to open. "I do not know what help you will find, but I wish you all luck." The guardsmen eyed Lawrien, and his face fell. "And Warden Commander? I'm sorry, but might I ask what happened to Duncan? The last time I saw him was months ago."

Lawrien bowed her head. "Duncan fell at Ostagar trying to end the Blight."

The guardsmen sighed tiredly. "I thought he'd come here and we'd throw a feast for him before he'd go to the Deep Roads. I hope he rests in peace, wherever he is now."

"Thank you." Lawrien smiled shakily.

"Did they all know Duncan?" Leliana whispered as they went through the gates.

"A lot of them did, yeah," Lawrien said softly.

Alistair's head was low. "Duncan was amazing. I doubt there will ever be another Commander like him."

"We're going to do our best for his sacrifice, for all their sacrifices," Ciara said firmly. "The Grey Wardens held the line until their deaths to help people evacuate Ostagar. They made sure we all got out."

Lawrien nodded. "We'll end the Blight or die trying."

"I don't intend to die, so we better win," Torph said.

Faren grinned. "Now that sounds like a proper plan."