Politics

The Grey Warden estate was large, with the main chamber hosting the living quarters, full of comfortable chairs and couches, with a large bookshelf and a fireplace (not that the fireplace was really needed, considering all the lava outside). The kitchen was fully stocked with fresh food, a few meals already prepared for them, and there were multiple bedrooms for them to use. There were ten bedrooms, all filled with cosy beds with thick mattresses and soft blankets and pillow, the best for the Grey Wardens. Some of them would have to share, but otherwise it was perfect. Faren and Zevran already claimed a room together, and Lawrien had already taken the Warden Commander's chambers with a heavy furrow in her brow. With the exception of the Warden Commander's bedroom, the other bedrooms had two single beds each. If Narascha remembered correctly, the Warden Commander had a king sized bed for themselves.

Narascha had dumped her backpack beside her claimed bed, along with her axe which she took out of Sten's chest. The axe would need to stay here for now, it was too noticeable, but she did thankfully have a spare one to use while she was here. Hopefully it wouldn't be needed, but just in case it was good to be prepared.

Narascha returned to the main chamber, finding a few of them already back in there, lounging on chairs. Wynne held a cup of tea in her hands, while Ciara poured out a few more cups from a pot.

"I still think we should work with Harrowmont," Wynne insisted. "There is no way we could trust Prince Bhelen after everything he has done. He might even turn his back on us after we help him get the crown."

"If he does that he'll have riots in the streets," Narascha said. "The dwarves of Orzammar and the Grey Wardens have a long friendship with one another. If one of us breaks that, it would be hell. No, breaking the treaty would not be something anyone trying to get the throne would risk. In that case we are safe."

"Besides, why should we work with someone so cowardly?" Zevran scoffed. "Harrowmont hides behind his second in command, who hasn't exactly shown much respect himself. Nor can Harrowmont keep his own men fighting. What will he do when his men refuse to fight against the Blight? Say pretty please?"

Narascha grimaced. Dulin Forender hadn't been too pleased to find they had spoken to Vartag first, even if they had been led straight to him. He had gotten uppity at Torph and Rica, sneering at them both for being casteless, until Lawrien threatened to clobber his face.

That had been more amusing. Thankfully Ciara managed to ease the situation, but Dulin still wasn't too happy about it.

"It's not like Bhelen isn't hiding behind Vartag," Faren reminded him, then nudged Zevran's side. "Besides, these dwarves aren't as fearless with death as a certain Antivan Crow is."

Zevran smirked. "I suppose not all can be as brave as me."

Narascha rolled her eyes.

"I don't particularly like that Dulin wishes for us to win a Proving in Harrowmont's name," Ciara admitted. "They know Grey Wardens are supposed to stay neutral, so to have us announce it in their most popular grounds isn't a good sign. At least with Vartag all we have to do is hand out some notes, even if they might have been forged."

Lawrien groaned. "I don't like any of this! Shale, just crush their heads!"

Shale beamed. "Yes!"

"No!" Alistair yelled. "We can't do that, and you know better than to ask, Lawrien."

"You're so boring these days, Alistair," Lawrien pouted.

Alistair sighed. "I know, I know, but unfortunately we've got to do this right. The dwarves are the Grey Wardens main allies, if we go and mess with that now, it won't only be us affected, but all the Grey Wardens."

Lawrien grimaced. "I suppose... would make it easier for us though..."

Ciara patted her shoulder. "We'll go talk to the Steward and see what he says. Perhaps he has some ideas on who the better candidate for Orzammar is with a more neutral mind set."

"I don't know how much help he will be, but you may as well check," Narascha said.

"Alright, anyone want to come with me?" Ciara offered.

"I will." Alistair smiled.

"Sure, you staying here, Zev?" Faren asked.

"No way, someone has to make sure you Grey Wardens don't get ambushed," Zevran said.

"I think I'll rest here for a bit," Wynne said.

"Have fun." Narascha grinned.

"We'll do our best," Ciara chuckled.

.:.

"I thought they were all about to kill each other," Ciara said, grimacing at the closed doors to the assembly hall.

Steward Bandelor has called for a break and ushered them back out, apologetic. He looked exhausted, his hair dishevelled, shadows under his eyes. The poor man. Ciara didn't blame him for the exhaustion, Orzammar was a mess right now.

"I think they were," Alistair sighed.

"A good bit of sport I should say." Zevran grinned.

"Is there anyway to break this stalemate, good ser?" Ciara asked.

Steward Bandelor sighed heavily. "I am at a loss on that myself, Grey Warden. It lies with either Prince Bhelen or Lord Harrowmont, and both of them are slow to trust these days. I do know both their seconds have spoken with you."

"Is there any you deem better suited for the crown than the other?" Ciara asked.

"Unfortunately I cannot say due to my position," Steward Bandelor admitted. "I would tell you to ask around, but all the areas are divided right now, not just the noble houses, even those in the other castes are split between Prince Bhelen and Lord Harrowmont. Both have good sides and bad sides."

"That is unfortunately typical of politics," Ciara sighed. "Thank you for your help regardless, Steward Bandelor."

"And you as well, Grey Wardens." Steward Bandelor bowed his head. "And I heard about Warden Commander Duncan's passing. May the Stone embrace him."

"Thank you." Alistair bowed his head, as did Ciara and Faren.

.:.

Narascha sat down at Oghren's table, earning a scowl.

"Oi, whatever you're after you-" Oghren paused and peered at her, his eyes growing sharp, no longer cloudy from alcohol. "No way."

"Long time no see, Oghren," Narascha greeted.

"How are you even here?"

"I'm a Grey Warden. My friends and I are here to gain the help of our usual dwarven allies, but sadly the treaty only compels the King of Orzammar," Narascha sighed.

Oghren softened. "How you handling that? Bet you hadn't heard about King Endrin until you walked through them gates."

"I haven't really had time to process," Narascha admitted. "I know he was in bad shape from what Gorim told me, but I didn't expect him to just be... gone..."

"So did you do it?" Oghren eyed her.

"No. Bhelen set me up," Narascha sighed.

"I can't believe you got set up of all people," Oghren snorted. "Ain't you the favourite?"

"Was," Narascha corrected. "Now we've got to put a King on the throne and get Orzammar's armies moving again."

"And you want good old Oghren to give you some Paragon secrets," Oghren scoffed.

"No. I want you to tell me what's been happening around here. I've not been here in nearly a year, Oghren, and I can't talk to anymore without risking them recognising me."

Oghren tilted his head. "You trust me not to rat you out?"

Narascha smiled weakly. "You could easily rat me out to Bhelen and he'd have his guards arrest me. You could use that as leverage to try get people searching properly for Branka."

Oghren scowled. "We both know I won't do that to you, Princess. I respect you too much."

Narascha lowered her gaze and laughed bitterly. "How ironic. The two dwarves people don't respect actually think the best of me." Her shoulders shook, her laughter choking off. "And I don't know what I did to earn it after everything that has happened."

Oghren grimaced. "Has the surface addled your mind?"

"It's a big world up there," Narascha admitted. "I do miss calling Orzammar home, but I can't forgive or forget the ones who hurt me. Harrowmont saved my life by sending me into the Deep Road tunnels where the Grey Wardens were, Oghren, and I can't even repay him right now. I need Bhelen to win."

"Shit..." Oghren cursed. "You don't owe Harrowmont anything. He did that out of kindness, sure, but not to be made into a debt. Fuck, he probably didn't even think you'd survive even with that small chance."

"And yet here I am."

"Here you are." Oghren nodded. "Good on you, Princess."

Narascha bit her lip. "I really want to help him..."

Oghren grimaced. "But you need Bhelen's ruthlessness during a Blight."

"And I'm a Grey Warden first," Narascha said softly. "Orzammar's people killed off Princess Narascha Aeducan and made me instead." She stood up. "Thank you, Oghren, and it was good to see you again, despite the circumstances."

"It was good to see you too, Princess."

She walked away, only to pause when she saw Torph leaning against the stairs that led up to Oghren's table.

"Keeping an eye on me?" Narascha whispered.

"An eye out for you," Torph said. "It's pretty dangerous for you after all."

"I suppose so," Narascha mused.

They walked out Tapster's Tavern together, and Narascha sighed heavily.

"We're going to help Bhelen."

Torph grimaced. "Fuck."

Narascha patted his shoulder. "I know, but he's our best chance at ending the Blight and getting rid of more darkspawn. If he's going to have casteless who can fight in the army, and bolster our fighting numbers-"

"I know." Torph scowled. "But I still don't like or trust the asshole, even if he makes Rica happy."

Narascha smiled softly. "Thank you."

"No, thanks to you for being too reasonable, you ass," Torph grumbled. "We do this, then get you outta here quick as we can. That sound good?"

Narascha nodded. "Sounds fantastic."

.:.

"I feel dirty handing those fake notes out." Leliana scrunched her nose as she leaned against the wall outside of the palace.

Epona, Leliana, Narascha, Shale and Sten were standing outside, waiting for the others. Wynne was in the commoner area, browsing the stalls again if Epona recalled rightly, and Cobian and Morrigan had wandered off too. Ciara, Alistair, Faren, Zevran and Torph were currently inside the palace with Bhelen.

"It's not like we can do much about it now," Narascha said in a low tone, keeping her back to passer bys.

Epona raised a brow. "You didn't have to come out with Torph and I, Leliana."

Epona had been the one to help him deliver the documents. Mainly because she had needed a walk. She didn't like being this deep underground. It was uncomfortable, but at least the streets of Orzammar themselves had high ceilings above their heads.

"I hate this. Grey Wardens are supposed to be heroes!" Leliana complained.

"We need the Orzammar treaty to deal with the Blight," Narascha whispered.

Epona sighed. "You're a bard. You should be used to doing petty crime."

"I prefer daring," Leliana chuckled. "It sounds much more romantic."

"Must we stay out here? We should be fighting the darkspawn," Sten grumbled.

"I could give them a good squish," Shale offered.

"Hopefully this will all be over soon enough," Narascha sighed. "I can't wait to get out of here."

.:.

"Welcome to your new house, little brother," Bhelen greeted Torph warmly.

A shame it made his skin crawl. He knew Bhelen was a tricky fuck, but it was nice he wasn't an outright asshole like a lot of the dwarves around here.

"My Rica tells me you won the Grey Warden's attention at least years Proving," Bhelen continued.

"Last year?" Torph blinked.

"Well, almost a year now," Bhelen admitted.

"I can't believe I've been gone that long already..." Torph murmured.

"I can't believe it's been nearly a year already," Alistair agreed. "That's insane."

"I guess time flies when there's a Blight," Zevran chuckled.

"Vartag also says you've all been a great help with my campaign to regain the throne," Bhelen said. "Thank you for that. It helps having people who can make these things go more smoothly."

"Is it enough to get you the throne yet?" Torph asked.

"Not just yet unfortunately. Harrowmont is desperately clinging for dear life though, but soon enough he'll be finished," Bhelen said. "But don't worry, the moment he is dealt with, we'll get Orzammar's armies sorted and marching to help you end the Blight. It is urgent this is done quickly, so we need to work fast."

Torph noticed Lawrien looked a little surprised at that.

"You've seen it for yourself. The city is a slaughter house. Criminals are running loose on the streets, warriors are killing each other. I need my city back in order," Bhelen said. "And the only way to do that is to stop the usurper."

"Yeah, there have been a few Carta members running amok," Torph said.

Bhelen nodded. "Rica did say you were once apart of them, little brother. Jarvia took over them after you killed Beraht and expanded his operations massively. From what your sister says, I doubt Jarvia remembers you fondly."

"About as fondly as I remember her." Torph snorted. "So you want us to kill them, right?"

"I love how you jump straight to the point," Bhelen chuckled. "Yes, I want Jarvia dead and her Carta wiped out. It would boost my popularity to be known as the one who got rid of her, and you would then get the troops you need."

"Sounds like a good plan." Torph nodded.

"Unfortunately I have little information on Jarvia. I know her base of power is in Dust Town, but otherwise not much else. I hope that even after a year away, you can still track them down, Torph," Bhelen said.

"I'm sure we'll work it out." Torph glanced at Lawrien who nodded.

"Guess we better go kick their asses again." Lawrien grinned.

"I did have a question," Bhelen said, making them all pause.

"What's up?" Torph frowned.

"There was a report that a female Grey Warden dwarf is with you," Bhelen said. "But I don't remember any of our number joining lately with the exception of you. The last one before you was a man. Who is she?"

Torph shrugged. "A surfacer who joined a while back. Don't know too much about her, but she's mute. Darkspawn apparently sliced her neck before I met her in Ostagar. Why? Something wrong?"

Bhelen's brow furrowed. "No. It's fine. Just surprised to see she wields a double handed axe. Not many of our women do."

"No many women do in general," Torph joked. "Takes a scary one to lift those things for sure."

"I suppose..." Bhelen nodded. "Thank you, and if your surfacer friend wishes to know more about our history, you may as well point her to the Shaperite. It must be nerving coming down here for the first time."

"Thanks." Torph nodded, and together they all walked out Bhelen's chambers.

"You lie so easily," Alistair said, shaking out his hands. "I thought he was about to..." Alistair grimaced. "Narascha has to be careful."

"Lying is easy, but it's hard to tell when it's against just as good of a liar as I am," Torph said, eyeing Lawrien. "Thoughts?"

"He was earnest about the Blight. He wants it dealt with fast," Lawrien said. "But he's worried about the possibility of Narascha being here regardless."

"Well, well, look at you all fancied up."

Torph groaned. "Here we fucking go."

Lawrien blinked. "Torph?"

Torph turned on his heels and managed a strained grin, looking at the old bag sitting on her chair, sitting, holding a bottle as always.

Some things never change.

"Long time no see, old bat," he greeted.

"So what did you do to get all that fancy shit? Murder and rob someone?" Kalah mocked. "Better than your sister who found some prince to stick it to her."

"Aww, you jealous that both of us are doing better than your mosswine addled brain?" Torph sneered. "Ya know, most parents are supposed to say they missed their kids after they've been away for so long."

"Why would I ever miss you? You made me old, fat and ugly," Kalah scoffed. "Running off to the surface, just like your father. Never thought to share any of that fortune with your mother?"

Torph looked around the fucking palace they stood in, eyed her, then cackled.

"Don't get cheeky with me, you little shit-"

"You're in a fucking palace and you still want more money, you nasty bitch?" Torph smacked her hand away when she tried to slap his face. "Maybe you should have worked for your money instead of selling both your kids to the Carta."

Alistair barely stifled a gasp behind him.

Shit, they were seeing all his fucking family drama. Poor assholes.

"I see how they look at me. They think I'm gutter trash. Not one of them would let me step foot in here if it wasn't for Rica," Kalah complained. "Precious Rica, and her precious little brat! If he chokes on that golden rattle then they'll kick us both outta here and we'd be back on the street."

"It was thanks to me and Rica that we weren't on the street already," Torph growled. "I've been working for Beraht since I was fucking six."

"Ha! You know what they keep up here?" Kalah eyed the wine bottle on her table gleefully.

There were a lot of them. Hopefully the old bat would choke herself on them soon enough.

"They've got wine from the surface. Ale. Brandy. They have a whole room full of it, and nobody's gonna stop me taking it, because I'm the brat's grandmother."

"Poor kid," Torph scoffed. "As always you're a bitter old bat, ain't ya?"

"You don't think I've got the right to be happy? You don't think I deserve to have what everyone else has? You think you deserve them fancy clothes?"

"Aye, I fucking do, because unlike you, I got up and did shit. I made the fucking Grey Wardens notice me, and I became one of those fucking legendary Grey Wardens," Torph laughed. "I didn't just wallow after a man who ditched me, then made my kids do all the bloody work. I did this." He pointed at himself, the good armour he had on. "And Rica did this." He gestured at the castle. "You? You did nothing, but have sex and give birth to us."

"Don't you dare talk to me like that!"

"Aw, but ma, it's for your own good. You gotta toughen up to survive this world, right?" Torph mocked. "That's what you used to say to me."

"You ain't never gonna be nothing but Dust Town, just like me."

"Yeah, well fuck you," Torph scoffed. "I might be Dust Town, but at least I got out of it on my own and not clinging to Rica, you nasty old hag. Now fuck you."

Torph turned and walked away.

"Don't you walk away from me!" Kalah yelled. "Rica! Rica, he's leaving-"

"Torph...?" Alistair looked worried.

"Never mind that old bat," Torph scoffed, as Rica came running, startled.

"Torph?" Rica frowned, eyeing him then Kalah. "What happened?"

"There's an old bitch in your hallway, you should kick her out," Torph said, gently hugging Rica. "And you're awesome, you know that? Don't keep running after the old bat."

Rica softened. "Thank you, Torph, but somebody has to keep an eye out for her."

"You're a better person than me. I would have left her in Dust Town and brought Leske with me instead if I were you," Torph chuckled. "Speaking of which, I'm gonna go find him, mind if we catch up later, sis?"

Rica smiled warmly. "Of course, Torph. Stay safe out there, alright?"

"Always." He winked and walked away.

"That's your mother?" Alistair looked horrified as they walked out the palace.

"Not all mum's are sweet, y'know," Torph said with a light shrug. "I doubt Flemeth would be baking Morrigan cookies and telling her she loves her."

"Okay, that would be a sight, but still, that doesn't give that woman the right to talk to you like that." Alistair frowned. "I'm glad you stuck up for yourself there. I wanted to yell at her for being so horrible to you."

Torph laughed. "Aww, Alistair, that's cute, but don't fret, I don't give two shits about the old woman. Rica was always the one who cared about me, and I would give her the world if I could."

But he couldn't, so he would have to do the second best thing. Save the world from a fucking Blight and put her traitorous, piece of shit man on the throne.