The Diamond District
Torph whistled. Fuck, the Diamond District sure looked fancy, and he had only walked two steps inside it. He was expecting a guard to appear to yell at him, but thankfully he was a Grey Warden now. He could go wherever he pleased, so fuck them.
"I can't believe it!" Torph froze at the sight of a beautiful red haired woman running towards him, a very familiar woman. "I heard a dwarven Grey Warden had arrived at the gates and I couldn't help but hope it was you. Look at you! My little brother! A battle-scarred veteran!"
"R-Rica?" he stuttered, much to his surprise before he managed to collect himself. "Heh, is that you under all those jewels?"
"Can you imagine?" Rica smiled brightly at him, she looked so clean, so healthy. "They moved me and mother into the palace, I'm a royal concubine of House Aeducan!"
Torph's blood turned cold. "Royal concubine?"
"Yes!" Rica beamed. "I wish you could meet little Endrin, but they won't let him out the royal nursery. Torph, the man who I have been with, you will never believe it, it was Prince Bhelen. I've had his baby! And with luck I'll have many more."
Narascha completely tensed up against him, making him fumble back with one hand and grab her hand, letting her squeeze it. He nearly winced at how tight the grip was but he ignored it in favour of smirking at his sister.
"There's another you in the world? Stone help us all."
Fuck. Fuckity, fuck, fuck, fuck. He wanted to avenge Narascha but Rica was with Bhelen? His sister and their baby. They had a baby together. Torph was an uncle of a Prince and the Prince was Bhelen's son. Shit, he couldn't even imagine what Narascha was thinking right now. Torph didn't even know what to think. It was taking everything he had not to melt down in front of Rica.
He couldn't hurt Rica though. It was Rica. He couldn't stand to see her cry, and killing her husband would probably make her sob.
Fuck. What did he do now?
"Oh shush! He was born right after his grandfather died. The King! Can you believe it? His grandfather, a King!" she rambled excitedly, her eyes shining while his bones creaked in Nara's grip, her face white beneath her hood. "My son, an Aeducan, the future King of Orzammar! He spends his nights in my bed."
Torph picked at his ear. "So he can be a King?"
"Yes, your nephew, he could one day sit on the throne!" Rica beamed before scowling. "And stop picking your ear! I'm trying to talk to you!"
He chortled. "Right, right, sorry."
"Painted Dwarf, are we done speaking to its sister?" Shale asked impatiently as Rica gaped.
"A golem!"
"I've picked up a weird group. I know," Torph sighed, rubbing the back of his head. "Look, Rica, I'm not just here to visit you. I really wish that was the case."
"I dunno, your sister seems nice. I'd rather talk to her than deal with all the king stuff," Lawrien sighed.
Rica hesitated. "So you heard the rumours? This Lord Harrowmont is a terrible man. Bhelen told me all about him. Bhelen thinks his sister and Lord Harrowmont conspired to frame him for Trian's murder. He's lucky he caught his sister red-handed-"
"Weird, he was just saying out in the common area how Harrowmont used his sister," Faren pointed out.
"Yes, very conflicting points," Cobian said.
"Of course he did," Rica sighed. "He loved his sister so much, and everyday her betrayal kills a piece of him-"
Narascha trembled.
Torph barely managed to strangle down a curse. "Hold on a sec, Rica. Idiots wanna chat."
Rica startled, taken aback, but Torph ignored her and dragged Narascha aside, gesturing for the others to follow. It was one weird bloody group, for sure, but fuck it. He could see a lot of dwarves look their way, but a glower from Sten, Shale and Epona made them all look away.
"Let's set the castle on fire," Lawrien said.
"And burn my nephew alive?" Torph raised a brow.
It felt so weird saying nephew.
Lawrien huffed. "Move your nephew out first, Torph! Then we set it on fire."
"I'm kind of leaning towards Lawrien's plan on this one," Alistair said, startling them all. "Okay, not the set the castle on fire part, but Bhelen needs to pay for this. Narascha, I have never seen you tremble like this once in my life, and I would like to say we have all gotten to know you over these past few months-"
"Yeah, let's kick Bhelen's ass-" Lawrien began.
"Then the throne will fall to Harrowmont, and no matter how much I owe him my life, this isn't just about my life now," Narascha said, her voice wobbling, and Torph fucking hated this. "This is about Orzammar's future."
He really hated this.
"Torph and his family would be cast aside like dirt because that's all our society ever thinks of them while Bhelen wants to change things for the better," Narascha said bitterly. "He wants them to fight and save our home. I refuse to let my sacrifice, however unwilling, be for nothing."
"Orzammar seems to be torn into two groups. So it's between this Harrowmont guy and Bhelen?" Faren tilted his head.
"Isn't this Harrowmont the more honourable one?" Sten raised an eyebrow. "Why should we trust that this Bhelen won't stab us in the back when he had stabbed his, sister correct? Sister in the back."
"You remember what sister means, Sten?" Torph asked.
"You are born to the same parent and are raised together correct?" Sten asked, sounding a bit unsure about the idea.
"Pretty much."
"I agree," Wynne said. "We should ally ourselves with someone trustworthy."
Narascha grunted. "Harrowmont, while honourable, has been my father's second for years. I bet my gut he's done plenty of unsavoury things in his lifetime, it's just that my brother does it a lot more often than he does. What makes thing more complex though is that Torph's family is obviously on Bhelen's side."
"How about we go squish both of these dwarves heads until one gives us the army we are looking for?" Shale helpfully suggested. "I will happily do the crushing."
Narascha snorted at that. "The Treaty only compels the King of Orzammar unfortunately. We need a King to give us an army."
Shale shrugged. "Then I squish them until one of them forfeits the right to be King."
"I change my mind. I like Shale's plan." Lawrien grinned.
"You can't want Bhelen to win, not after what he did to you, Princess," Torph grunted.
"I agree," Wynne said. "Bhelen is dishonourable. He killed his brother and possibly his father, and framed Narascha. He cannot be trusted, nor does he deserve the throne."
"And you can't wish to fight your family, Torph. You've told me of your sister and mother, you love them both dearly," Narascha argued.
A bit more 'eh' on the mother side of it, but he did love Rica. Torph would do anything for Rica. Fuck, Bhelen was actually giving his people hope for an actual future too, instead of just being treated like dirt, but how could he trust the fucker? He had his eldest brother murdered and blamed Narascha for it. Narascha. Fuck, if it had been any other noble bastard Torph probably wouldn't have cared, but Narascha had never once treated him as if he wasn't a person.
In fact, she was the third dwarf to acknowledge him as more than casteless. Rica was the first, and Leske took second place. But they were already casteless. Narascha acknowledged him despite being of a pretty noble birth. Despite bring the Princess of Orzammar.
They were friends. She was his friend.
Bhelen had hurt his friend.
"This is a foolish waste of time," Sten complained.
"We need that army for the darkspawn." Lawrien frowned. "But we can't let Bhelen get away with what he did to Narascha. That's unfair. I could set his clothes on fire or his beard?"
"No one has to know I'm here," Narascha said, much to his annoyance.
"That's just as fucked up, Nara. You deserve answers," Torph argued.
"It's all apart of Orzammar politics," Narascha replied, her voice carefully blank.
"We could speak with both parties," Zevran suggested.
Lawrien blinked, looking confused. "We can?"
"Nothing is stopping us. This is all a 'game' to play, and perhaps we can play both sides until we reach a conclusion as to who we prefer," Zevran offered coyly and Faren grinned.
"Oooh, how sneaky." The kid nudged Zevran's side playfully who chuckled warmly.
"But Bhelen's future plans might be better for Orzammar than Harrowmont's," Narascha murmured, shifting her feet. "I shouldn't have came here. This was a foolish idea."
"You needed to. We understand, Narascha." Lawrien reached over and squeezed Narascha's shoulder reassuringly.
"So what are we doing?" Torph asked.
This was all such a pain in the ass.
"How about we see what your sister says. Pretend you know nothing of Narascha personally," Zevran suggested.
"That's his sister you want him to manipulate," Narascha reminded them.
Torph shrugged. "She's firmly under Bhelen's grasp, I can't say I blame her either."
She had to do what was needed to survive.
"She has her family to worry about. I do not either." Narascha agreed.
Torph wandered back over to Rica with the others, although Narascha stuck to the tallest of them all, trying to keep her face hidden as much as possible.
"Is everything okay?" Rica asked, looking now more concerned.
"Yeah..." He grimaced, rubbing the back of his head again. "Look, Rica, I don't really know what's happening right now. We're here for an army. There is so much crap going on, so you said this Bhelen guy discovered a plot between Harrowmont and the Princess?"
"You said you needed an army? Torph, is everything okay? We've been hearing rumours..."
"The worst has happened. There's a Blight," Torph sighed.
"By the Ancestors!" Rica gaped. "But we have no King! Harrowmont is trying to overthrow Bhelen!"
"There has to be something we can do." Faren looked panicked, as if they hadn't just stood there and made a bit of a plan up already. "We can't go back without help!"
"I can take you to Vartag Gavorn! He's Bhelen's chief lieutenant, he could help you," Rica suggested, looking pleased with herself.
"Sounds good." Torph yawned.
Rica shook her head, bemused. "I guess the Grey Wardens haven't taken away that laziness yet."
"Still working on it," Faren joked.
Rica smiled softly. "Well, he might be suspicious of you at first, please don't take it personally. It's hard to know who we can trust these days."
Torph fought the urge to eye Narascha and snigger, yeah, how ironic that sentence was, huh? Instead he nodded and began to follow Rica as she led the way. She was already babbling away to Lawrien about Orzammar while Torph lingered near Narascha, unable to keep a smirk off his face.
"So, ten silvers you're gonna turn around and punch Vartag's smug face?"
Narascha snorted, but spoke up quietly. "If I did that then I would never get to punch my brother's smug face."
"You gonna be okay?" he asked.
"I knew this was not going to be easy, but I did not believe it was going to be this difficult. I had thought I would get to yell at my father perhaps... not any of this..." Narascha admitted, smiling at him. "Thank you for this."
"For what?"
"Being here. I know you won't betray me," Narascha said, startling him.
He paused in their walk, staring at her back as he kept walking before shaking himself out of his stupor and following after his group.
Fucking hell Princess.
.:.
"Rica? What are you doing here? The Assembly is no place for a woman of your status," Vartag said, baffled and Narascha could hear the insult in his voice. Narascha frowned and tugged Torph back a bit to whisper into his ear.
"That's Vartag. Bhelen's right hand man. Be wary," she murmured before pulling away just as his attention landed on Torph.
"Ah yes. I wasn't thinking. It would be difficult not to notice the heroic Grey Wardens." Vartag nodded, eyes searching. "Now, the Commander of Ferelden is... not here? Where is Duncan?"
"Duncan died in the battle of Ostagar," Lawrien said. "I'm now the new Commander of the Ferelden Grey Wardens."
Vartag took a moment to cover up the surprise on his face and pain. He had respected the Grey Wardens, Narascha remembered that well enough. He might not have liked that Duncan had been human, but he respected that they all fought the darkspawn despite that.
"My apologies." Vartag bowed his head. "And I'm sorry for the loss of Duncan. He was an excellent Commander."
"Yeah, he was." Lawrien nodded. "But I'll fight against this Blight in his stead."
"And Prince Bhelen would be delighted to help you." His face turned grave though and Narascha smirked, Vartag wasn't the best at faking his expressions and Lawrien was an empath. Lawrien wouldn't be fooled. "But he would have to be King first in order to abide by the treaty."
"This Harrowmont seems to be an honourable man, while Prince Bhelen won't even deign to speak with us," Wynne said. "Why should we help him?"
"Careful how you speak about my prince," Vartag growled lowly. "I would have to have a cultural misunderstanding that sees you thrown into the Deep Roads."
Lawrien's eyes darkened.
"Of course," Shale grunted. "An election is much more important than crushing the darkspawn."
Vartag choked and Narascha had to strangle back a laugh. "Is that a-"
"This is Shale, one of my friends." Lawrien grinned.
"H-How-" Vartag stammered.
Narascha hid behind Sten, her shoulders shaking from the effort to smother her laughter. Sten almost looked amused, but made sure to keep her covered as Faren and Zevran guarded her front from any passer bys.
"It's a long story." Lawrien laughed. "Darkspawn invaded a village, we killed them, and the villagers told us how to activate Shale who is now our giant battering ram."
"B-But where is the control rod?" Vartag eyed Lawrien's belt.
"Not working," Ciara said. "Shale follows us out of their own accord."
"I get to crush a lot of darkspawn," Shale said cheerfully. "And other little miserable creatures too."
"I-I-" Vartag shook his head, breathing in deeply.
Narascha was choking down her laughter with her own fist by this point.
"The squishy dwarf is surprised?" Shale chuckled. "How amusing."
"As surprising as Shale is," Ciara began. "Perhaps we should put this situation back on track? The treaty only compels the King of Orzammar, correct?"
Vartag blinked heavily, then nodded. "W-Well yes. Yes, indeed that is the problem you have now. We would need a king seated upon the throne, and the rightful one is Bhelen. Normally I would not wish to ask honourable Grey Wardens such as yourselves for assistance, but sadly Harrowmont is cunning."
"So we have heard. Forgive me for asking, but we overheard you mentioned a sister of Prince Bhelen's? Lawrien and I had met Princess Narascha a few times during our last expedition here and what we've heard now is quite concerning." Ciara tilted her head.
She was fishing for information then.
"Yes," Vartag sighed heavily. "Princess Narascha was unfortunately swayed by Harrowmont's charismatic nature. He looks like a kind, friendly man, but inside of him is a heart of a cold blooded snake. We believe he used her as a scapegoat for Prince Trian's murder, paying off a scout and nobleman to tell lies about her."
Narascha was gritting her teeth so hard that her jaw ached, and her hands clenched so tightly that she could feel them biting into her skin. She forced herself to breathe though, to calm down before her anger affected Lawrien. Lawrien already looked pissed off, but that could be played off as anger against Harrowmont.
They had already ruined her name and now they were using her to ruin Harrowmont's. The one person who saved her. The only one who had given a damn about her life enough to try help her. Tears burned her eyes, and she barely swallowed back an angry sob. No, now was not the time. Narascha needed to be calm.
All she had to do was be calm.