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Morrigan looked taken aback, glancing at the four of them standing there. Amell raised an eyebrow, looking over her shoulder at Alistair.
"Excuse me," Morrigan apologized, "You were not the Warden I was expecting to be here."
"You were expecting someone at all?" Amell asked skeptically, gesturing at the ruins around them.
"Er, never mind," Morrigan said quickly, "Come with me, if you please. Mother will be...interested to meet you."
***
"Why are we here?" Morrigan grumbled, "It is strange enough we must stop to help these simpletons, but must we go drinking with them as well?"
Amell explained, "I'm looking for any advantage I can give Redcliffe. You'd be impressed by the power of alcohol."
Morrigan rolled her eyes, "If we must, I suppose."
Amell chuckled as she sat down, "Wow, are you agreeing with me for once?"
"Do not grow accustomed to it," Morrigan sighed.
Amell glanced up, gesturing to a man sitting by himself in the corner, a cloak over his head. The only thing that was really visible was his lit pipe.
"Alistair didn't mention seeing him when he was here earlier," Amell said quietly.
"I don't know what to be more offended by," Morrigan quipped, "That you dragged me here despite the fact you had someone else scout it out or that you assume Alistair would be competent enough to do it."
"Well, how else would I get you to go out with me?" Amell teased.
"If this is your idea of a date," Morrigan rolled her eyes, "Then remind me not to agree to any in the future."
Amell looked up, noticing the stranger's eyes meeting hers. She felt a strange chill go through her, as if dipping her hand into cold water. She stood, ignoring Morrigan hissing to sit back down. Amell walked over and the stranger put down his pipe on the table. Morrigan followed behind her, keeping her hand on her shoulder.
"You are the Warden," the man said, "I have been watching you and your companion for some time in the village. I have been impressed. You seem to be a woman who gets things done and commands respect. That is a rare talent."
"What is your business here?" Amell asked, feeling uncomfortable.
"My name is Adair Cousland," he said, extending his hand, "Please, both of you, come sit."
Amell sat slowly, Morrigan sitting protectively beside her.
"I have come from Highever," Cousland explained, "I was trapped here when the dead began to attack. I have helped where I can, but I have tried to stay away from the Bann, as to not be recognized."
Amell commented, "Who are you hiding from?"
"I came south to find a man named Arl Howe," Cousland continued, "He...he is responsible for the betrayal and murder of my family line. I heard rumours of him hiring spies to scout out the area. I came to find him, but I was too late. I killed one and obtained documents proving his and Teryn Loghain's treachery."
"So what can I do for you?" Amell asked.
"I imagine one day you will confront Loghain and that bastard Howe will be at his side. I offer my sword arm, my shield, and my connections. There will be still those loyal to my family in Denerim. It will be easier for you to maneuver in political circles with me by your side," he explained, "In exchange, you will grant me protection until then. It will not be long until I am discovered, but your group has strength enough. And I imagine you will be tracked regardless so I will not add to your danger considerably. And when you confront Loghain...I want to be the one who kills Howe. No matter what happens, let me have that."
Morrigan murmured to her, "This is a good offer, Warden. You should accept."
Amell agreed, "Thank you, Lord Cousland. The Grey Wardens are pleased to have you serve alongside us. My men are camped just by the Windmill. If you meet with them, they will ensure you are prepared for the battle tonight."
Cousland nodded, "Thank you, Warden. You will not regret this."
***
"...Noam?"
Surana turned, smiling, "Nina!"
The little elven woman ran over, throwing herself into Amell's arms. Amell kissed her face profusely before putting her down.
"Thank the Maker you're alright, sister," Amell said, "Are you hurt?"
Surana shook her head, "I am alright. I managed to get to the lower levels before Wynne sealed us off from the rest of the Tower. I can't believe you're here. I thought you were dead!"
"Well, we're here now, to save the day!" Amell teased.
"Lucky us," Morrigan grumbled.
***
When they woke from the Fade, Amell reached out to Surana protectively, making sure her friend was still breathing. Amell helped her stand before looking back at the other two.
Morrigan grumbled, "I'm fine, by the way."
"Come on," Amell said, "We don't have any time to waste."
They went forward through the halls, Wynne leading them and Surana beside her. The other two hung back slightly.
"I see you were reunited with your...friend," Morrigan said briskly, "I shouldn't be surprised at you making such relationships in the Tower."
"You're jealous, aren't you?" Amell laughed.
Morrigan blushed, "Hardly."
Amell grinned, "You like me! I knew you liked me."
"Please do not embarrass me further, Warden."
"You have nothing to worry about," Amell assured, "The woman is very much only interested in men and is my best friend. It was never going to happen. And now...well, there's a new woman in my life."
"You are rather persistent," Morrigan grumbled.
"Honestly," Amell said softly, "If you'd rather I'd stop, I will. I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable."
"I did not say that," Morrigan admitted, "I...I rather enjoy it. Just perhaps lessen the intensity a little."
Amell grinned, "Can do."
"Maker!"
The two turned, seeing Surana kneeling before a magical barrier, her hands pressed against it. Wynne was beside her, trying to pull her away, but Surana pushed her.
"...Cullen?" Amell asked, skeptically.
Wynne dropped the barrier and the Templar wept. Surana scooped the much larger man into her arms and he nuzzled into her neck.
"I told you," Amell whispered, "Nothing to worry about."
***
All three were given leave, joining the rest at their camp on the docks of the lake. As the evening grew late, Surana found Amell alone by the water, sticking her toes in.
Surana sat beside her and said quietly, "We're leaving."
Amell looked over as she continued, "He's not well, I think we both know that. His family lives a few days travel from here. I'm going to take him home...and then I'm going to stay with him."
"You'll be an apostate," Amell warned.
"I know," she said softly, "But he needs me and this is our only chance. We're going to leave tonight, when everyone is asleep. I don't want to tip anyone off, because Wynne would highly disapprove, but...I love you. I just wanted you to know that. If you think I shouldn't...well, tell me now."
Amell held her and whispered, "You should go. Be happy. Have a dozen blonde babies. And take good care of each other. I love you, be safe."
Surana murmured, "You too."
***
"This is a bad idea," Cousland said, looking around the market.
"So you've said for the past two weeks," Amell reminded, "But apparently, we need to find dirt to save one of your people so-"
"We're not related."
"It's Ferelden nobility. You're all related," Amell rolled her eyes.
Alistair felt awkward, letting the two bicker before him. Only the three of them had gone into the city, trying not to create a presence. Denerim was a bad idea. It only took one person to recognize any one of them. He should have stayed back at the camp.
"I'm going to go stock up on supplies," he said, "I'll meet you back here in twenty minutes or so?"
The two continued to argue, ignoring him. Alistair sighed and walked off, shifting his pack. At least he might get some quiet. Between Amell and Morrigan beginning a...physical relationship, Zevran attempting to seduce Cousland into one, Amell and Cousland arguing like cats and dogs, Wynne demanding to track down Surana, and well, everything else, it had been hard not to feel a little out of place. And the headache was rivaling any Archdemon related nightmares.
He was bending over slightly to examine a few polishing oils when he felt his wallet slip out of his pocket.
"Hey!" He called out.
The elf ran and he chased her, pushing past a few merchants. He saw her climbing up into the attic of Wade's Emporium and he ran, grumbling as she pulled up her makeshift ladder.
"Look," he said, trying to see her through the small window, "You can have the wallet. There's maybe a few silvers, it's not much. But there's this little token, maybe the size of a copper with a rune on it. It's not worth anything but it...I like it. If you could just give that back to me, you can keep the rest."
He waited a moment and then saw the token fall on the ground beside him. He smiled, picking it up.
"Thanks," he chuckled, "No chance I'll get the rest of it back?"
After he heard no response, he shook his head, walking off. It was worth a shot. He paused, hearing a thud behind him. Alistair was startled, seeing the young elven woman back on the ground, her daggers out in front. He put his hands up, his heart racing.
"You're a Grey Warden," she commented, tossing the coin purse back to him, "I don't steal from Grey Wardens. It's not worth the trouble."
"You've stolen from us before?" He asked curiously, too nervous to pick it back up.
"Guy came by the Alienage months ago," she commented, "Told him to sod off. Not before I took his blade and two sovereigns. You steal a copper and suddenly you have shems trying to recruit you into an army. Nearly got me too. And then I'd be dead, like you're supposed to be."
Alistair looked at the red dagger and his face softened.
"Duncan," he said quietly, "He was my mentor. I remember him saying he was recruiting in Denerim before he went west."
"Not a bad man," she admitted, "I rather liked him, he got me out of some trouble, but I wasn't too eager to follow. I suppose you want this back then?"
She turned the blade towards him, lowering her other dagger. He took it slowly and put it into his belt.
"What's your name?" He asked.
"It's not worth my neck telling you that," she chuckled, "Good luck, Warden. And try not to keep your coin in your back pocket. I'm a poor thief and even I got you."
Alistair blushed and she smiled, almost softly.
"I'd better find a new hiding spot," she said kindly.
"You could stay with us," Alistair blurted out, "We've got a camp outside the city. Whoever you're hiding from, well, I can-we can keep you safe. No conscripting, I promise."
"And go fight the war with you?" She asked, "Might be safer than Denerim, but I'm really not that good a scrapper. And a terrible thief. Can't pick a lock to save my life. Literally couldn't to save my life."
"Duncan saw something in you," Alistair said sheepishly, "And...I don't know if you're...well...you feel it too, don't you? Like we've met before? Like..."
She put the other blade in her belt and stuck out her hand, "Aria Tabris."
Alistair introduced himself, a chill going up his arm as he shook her hand.
Tabris smiled at him, "Okay. I'll go with you."
He handed her back the dagger, "You'll need this."
She took it back tentatively, her hand brushing against his.
They backed away from each other as they heard Amell and Cousland calling for them. The pair informed Alistair of what they found, Tabris and Alistair still gazing at the other, smiling quietly. Whatever it was, she sensed it too.
***
"This feels like a trap," Alistair commented, looking around Tapster's Tavern.
"The note said to meet here," Amell said firmly, "Look, you guys go get a few drinks, look...casual. I'll have a look around. I'll give you a shout if I need anything."
Alistair patted her on the back and went off with Cousland and Zevran. Amell continued walking through the bar. She felt a tug on her sleeve and she turned, placing her hand on her dagger.
The dwarven woman put her hands up in the air, grinning.
"Warden," she greeted, "I've been expecting you. I've been hoping to make you an offer."
"Listen," Amell grumbled, "We've been all over this Maker forsaken city trying to appease one noble or another. I've had enough bullshit for one day. So unless you want to just point out where Jarvia is and hand out cookies, please get out of my way."
"Relax, Warden," she chuckled, "Jarvia is looong dead. Months, actually. There's been a change in leadership. Mainly, yours truly."
Amell glanced down at her, "Shouldn't you be surrounded by bodyguards or something?"
She shook her head, "Don't need 'em. So. Who'd you pick? Bhelen or Harrowmont?"
"They both seem like dicks," Amell chuckled, "I tossed a coin. Harrowmont won."
"See, here's the thing," the dwarf said, "You're right. Both pretty much awful, awful people and both are just as likely to stab you in the back or spit in your face. So I'm offering you an...accord. I might be able to give you a third option."
"I hope not yourself."
She laughed, "Definitely not. My name is Brosca. Salome Brosca. Come have a drink, we'll talk it over."
Amell glanced back at her companions and followed Brosca to her booth. She sat down, watching Brosca order them a few pints.
"So here's the thing," Brosca said, leaning forward, "I know you don't know all of this since you've just shown up, but there's more than one Aeducan. Bhelen was the third kid. He had an older brother, Trian-"
"Who he killed, I know that."
Brosca smirked, "He also had a sister."
Amell glanced up, waiting until the drinks were put on the table. Brosca tipped the waitress and took a sip before continuing.
"Helena," Brosca said, "Fierce warrior princess. Got framed for Trian's murder and exiled to the Deep Roads to die months ago. Thing is, well, I have sources that tell me that she's still alive."
"And she would be eligible?"
Brosca shrugged, "More eligible than her brother. The people loved her. Now, Bhelen has an heir now, little boy. My nephew actually. Thing is, I'm not a fan of the man, for a variety of reasons, but I love my nephew. The kid could do great things, with the right mentorship. Now Helena was a reformer and a good woman. She could do great things with this city and she would not hesitate to support you."
"You sound like you know her well," Amell commented.
Brosca smirked, "We've run into each other, once or twice. So here's my offer, Warden. I take you into the Deep Roads, we bring Helena back, you support her candidacy and you have the Carta's support, as well as the dwarven armies. Saves you a heap of trouble and could do all of us a lot of good."
"You're not as evil as I expected the head of the Carta to be," Amell chuckled.
Brosca shrugged, "It's just a living."
***
Helena Aeducan looked surprisingly well for a woman who had spent the last six months living in the Deep Roads. She was dressed in simple light armour, her blonde hair plaited back expertly, even her eyes carefully lined with black. She stepped down from the cavern, smiling politely.
"Miss Brosca," she said kindly, "It seems you have brought some friends along."
"This is the Grey Warden Amell," Brosca introduced, "She wants to back you as Queen of Orzammar."
Aeducan chuckled, "Well, if I can be of service, then why not? Let me get my things. Ruck?"
A dwarven man with wrinkled skin and dark eyes came forward, holding two packs. He stumbled slightly and Aeducan helped him to his feet.
"My friend," Aeducan said softly, "He is recovering from decades of the Taint. You must speak slowly and kindly to him. In these past months, I have been able to bring medicine to him from the city. We are feeling much better, are we not, Ruck?"
The man beamed at her and nodded.
"Ruck saved my life," she said, patting his arm, "If it was not for him, I would have died the first days in exile."
"Not want to go back," Ruck said, looking nervously at the others.
"All will be well," Aeducan promised, "In a few days, we will be in the city. All your treasures are coming along with us. Miss Brosca brought us a cart just for them."
Ruck looked at Amell suspiciously and nodded. He went into the back of the cart, observing the others as they packed his gear.
Amell murmured to Aeducan, "Is he a ghoul?"
Aeducan shook her head, pulling her to the side, "He was...in a way. The taint effected him so slowly, he simply adapted. I have developed treatments. I've always had a way with herbs and medicines. He is much healthier and becoming more and more dwarven. I hope what we have learned together will help many others."
Amell grinned and Aeducan frowned, "What is it, Warden?"
"You're bloody perfect," Amell laughed, "Thank the Maker. Thank the bloody Maker."
***
Brosca left the Assembly laughing, squeezing Amell tight.
"I knew we could do it, Warden," Brosca cheered, punching her in the shoulder, "Orzammar now has the finest Queen it ever could. You have my connections, my people, anything you need. In fact, me. You have me. I'm coming with you."
"It's not exactly the funnest time," Amell assured.
Brosca gestured to Leliana and murmured to Amell, "I'm just saying, there seems to be some benefits. That is a mighty fine concubine as they say."
"I'm actually with her," Amell said, pointing to Morrigan.
"Then dibs," Brosca said, affectionately pushing her away.
Amell rolled her eyes and turned, hearing the Assembly stand to leave. After many others, Aeducan came out last, dressed still in her travelling clothes. Aeducan bowed to Amell and took her hands in hers.
"I will try to deserve your faith in me," she promised, "The Grey Wardens will always be welcomed in our cities. May the friendship between us only grow in the passing years."
"Thank you, your majesty," Amell said, bowing in return, "You have certainly been a most pleasant surprise."
***
Alistair paced around the camp nervously. Most of the party was already in bed....and with each other. Cousland and Zevran were now quite happily fornicating at every opportunity, Morrigan and Amell had settled into a sickeningly domestic relationship, and now Brosca was busy wooing her way into the Bard's tent. It left him with Sten and Wynne.
And her.
Tabris sat near the fire, playing with the mabari. She giggled as it pounced on her, knocking her to the ground. Alistair started to walk over when she pushed him off, tossing him into the dirt. Wynne yawned, apologizing before going into her own tent. Sten nodded knowingly before he whistled for the mabari, Alistair could swear he saw the Qunari smirk at him before retreating into his tent, the dog following behind him.
Tabris brushed off her clothes, blushing before sitting back down.
"That silly mutt," she said, trying to fix her braid, "I just bathed."
She struggled slightly and Alistair sat beside her.
"I have something for you," he said, reaching into his bag.
"A hair brush," she groaned happily, taking it from him.
"Amell was at this shop looking for a mirror for Morrigan and I remembered you said your hair was driving you nuts, so I thought-"
He forgot what he was going to say, her smile disarming him so. She brushed out her hair, sighing.
"I know it's the end of the world and I shouldn't care what I look like," Tabris admitted, "But I'm too vain to chop it all off."
"I think you look beautiful," Alistair blurted out.
Tabris bit her lip and he looked away.
"I should go," he said awkwardly, nearly tripping over himself as he stood.
"Okay," she said quietly...maybe with disappointment?
Alistair shuffled off into his tent and tightened the flap. He groaned, reliving his stupidity over in his mind.
***
"Love," Morrigan called out, "Let the poor boy have some peace."
"It's funny," Amell protested, closing the flap, "I thought you of all people would find it a riot that he's acting like a buffoon over her. Like just kiss her or something, am I right?"
Morrigan smiled, shaking her head, "Not everyone is as direct as you."
"If they were, we might have ended the Blight months ago," Amell grumbled.
Amell laid down, pulling Morrigan into her arms. She kissed her softly, cradling her body in hers.
"What's wrong?" Amell asked, stroking her cheek, "You've been so quiet the last few days. Which is very concerning."
"I've been reading over the grimoire you found back in the Tower...it's just...I need to ask you something, something that sounds....absurd," Morrigan said, "And I don't want you to, because I'm afraid."
"You can tell me anything," Amell promised.
Morrigan said softly, "My mother...I think she's going to kill me. Use my body as her own. I'll let you look at the spells yourself, I could be wrong, I'm just...I'm really scared. I'm worried unless she dies, she's going to kill me first. And I can't do it because she could possess me right there and then. But I don't know who else can. There's a book of her spells, her true grimoire. If I had it, I could protect myself. I just...I don't want her to hurt you, I'm just so afraid."
Amell kissed her tenderly, running her hands through her hair. Morrigan pulled her closer, resting under her chin.
"When we go east to find the Dalish," Amell said, "I'll find her. If I go by myself, she might not suspect me. I'll do whatever I need to in order to keep you safe. I promise."
Morrigan whispered, "Thank you, love. Thank you."
***
Alistair put his hand up and the party paused. He exchanged a glance with Amell.
"Do you feel that?" He asked.
Amell closed her eyes, trying to sense the same presence. A chill ran through her as she touched upon it.
"It's not a darkspawn," Amell said quietly.
"Nor is it a ghoul," Alistair whispered, "It's not corrupted far enough. It almost feels like..."
"Another Grey Warden," Amell whispered.
Alistair ran and Amell chased after him, pushing past the tree branches. She called out to him, trying to catch up to him. She entered the clearing, stumbling beside Alistair who stood perfectly still, his hands in the air. She looked forward, seeing the Dalish archer.
Amell put her hands up as well as the woman swore at them in Elvish. Amell tried to remember her lessons in ancient languages, but only remembered her and Surana attempting to fly a paper griffon into Irving's tea.
Amell said softly, "We don't mean any harm."
The elf lowered her bow, tentatively touching Amell's arm.
"You have what I have, this sickness," she said, "I feel its darkness in you...but you are not afraid. You are...healthy."
"You've been exposed to the Blight," Amell reassured, "You're alright. If you come back with us, I can have a look at you. We have medicines, we can help you."
"Maker," Alistair whispered.
Amell asked, "When did you encounter the darkspawn? Or someone else sick like you are? Anything tainted?"
"Eight months ago," she replied, "There was a mirror..."
She slipped into Elvish, closing her eyes as if to focus. She stopped, her hands trembling.
"I need help," she said softly, "Please help. I am of the Mahariel. If you know them..."
She fainted and Alistair caught her. Amell lead them back towards the others, gesturing for Wynne to come over. She glanced over at the unconscious woman in Alistair's arms.
Wynne murmured, "I'll see what I can do."
***
It was strange walking beside Mahariel. Despite never having gone through the Joining, her body had seemed to filter the Taint, allowing her to survive as she had before. Walking beside her felt like walking beside Alistair, the same strangely soothing presence.
After months on her own, Mahariel did not like being alone. She did not ask to join, but simply did not leave. She had no clan, no family. But she had found two people who understood and she refused to abandon them.
Though Amell could have found Flemeth on her own, it was a much more comfortable experience having a Dalish guide. Mahariel spoke little, but Amell was not really able to focus on a conversation. She was possibly confronting a Ferelden legend almost entirely by herself.
When they neared the old house, Mahariel gestured to where she would hide, leaving Amell to walk to the door alone. Amell hesitated before knocking.
Flemeth opened the door with a smile, "My, my, Warden, I was not expecting you quite this soon. Would you come in?"
"I'd rather talk outside," Amell said, trying to be brave.
"As you wish," Flemeth said, closing the door behind her, "Let us go over to the river. Sometimes one can see the little toads hopping around. I find it...relaxing."
Amell kept her eyes on Flemeth as they walked to the stream.
"What can I do for you, my dear?" Flemeth asked sweetly.
"I know what you're planning with Morrigan," Amell said firmly, "I know I'm not powerful enough to defeat you. I don't think I know a mortal who is."
Flemeth chuckled, "You give me too much credit, girl."
"So I'm asking you for the grimoire," Amell said.
"And what will you give in exchange?" Flemeth asked, raising an eyebrow, "You are hardly in a bargaining position."
"Whatever it takes," Amell said quietly, "I will do anything to protect her. So name your price and I will pay it."
Flemeth chuckled, "I was hoping it wouldn't be you. Ah, when I saw you, child, I nearly changed my mind. I thought I should just leave you there on the Tower. A second Grey Warden is always a good idea, I thought it was only responsible...but I should have not been so sentimental."
Amell said, "Morrigan said something like that when we met, that I was not the Warden she was expecting...who else would it have been?"
"There were always seven possibilities," Flemeth smirked, "Seven of you, but only one of who would become known as saviour, the Hero of Ferelden. One of you would survive, the other six would die. Of them all...you were the least likely. I did not consider you a threat, a factor to be concerned with. You were the one I least wanted to happen... one of two I wanted least to happen."
"Why not?" Amell asked.
Flemeth said coolly, "Because of Morrigan. For six others, she would do her duty and complete her mission. But for you...everything is put into jeopardy."
"Who was the other?" Amell asked.
"It matters not now. Only that she lived," Flemeth said, "I did not want to kill you, child. But there are more important things in this world than the life of one Grey Warden."
Amell tried to fight back as Flemeth clasped on her throat. She started blacking out only to feel oxygen rush back into her lungs as she was dropped to the ground. She looked up, seeing Flemeth standing with an arrow through her chest.
Mahariel stood a few feet away, bow still aimed at the Witch's heart.
Flemeth fell to the ground, her body dissipating into the air. Amell stood shakily and Mahariel came to her side, checking for injuries.
"I would have come in earlier," Mahariel said, "But I really thought you had her."
"Next time, come in sooner," Amell coughed, "Did you get the book?"
"It's in my pack," she answered, "Come on. Let's get out of here."
"How much did you hear?" Amell asked.
"Enough to know that this Witch would have said whatever she neede to get to you," Mahariel said, "Do not trust anything she said, treat it like a demon's words. You are injured and need rest. Let us go."
***
"I am sorry about the cramped accommodations," Eamon apologized, "I was not expecting so many of you."
"A bit of a surprise to us too," Amell chuckled darkly, "But regardless, we are here. Once again, to save the day. Us Grey Wardens. All of us. Every single one."
Alistair looked at her in confusion as Eamon continued, "There are many things to discuss and plan. Perhaps I could borrow Alistair for a time, and young Cousland."
Amell threw her hands up, "Have them all. Enjoy. Have fun, Eamon. I'm going to go drink your entire liquor cabinet. See y'all later."
Alistair tried to touch her shoulder and she tossed it off, walking into the den. She shooed out the servants that were there and poured herself a glass of rye. She drank it in one shot before pouring another.
She was nearly done the second glass when she saw Morrigan enter the room, closing the door behind her.
"Are you alright?" Morrigan asked, "This is...unlike you."
Amell gestured to the settee across from her and Morrigan sat tentatively.
"Your mother and I had a little chat," Amell said, pouring Morrigan a glass, "I haven't talked to anyone about it. Only the Dalish out there heard a bit. The last few days, it keeps going around again and again in my head. I thought when I saw you again, I'd feel fine. But it just keeps sitting in my chest..."
"So tell me," Morrigan said, ignoring the glass offered to her.
Amell drank it instead and put it on the table.
"Your darling mother," Amell chuckled, "Tried to kill me. Not anything even personal. Just statistics. There was always going to be a Me. Except it wasn't supposed to be me. You knew that, didn't you? You knew even when you saw me. I was a mistake. An accident. It was better I was dead than to screw things up even further."
Morrigan said quietly, "My Mother told me a few months before Ostagar. She said a group of Wardens would come, looking for the treaties. She said there would be four men. One would be tall, blonde, perhaps a little foolish. The others would not matter. But the one who spoke to me first, directly to me, was the important one. He would be a prince, likely with dark skin, brown eyes. I was told that I should...seduce that man. It was important that he trusted me. I can't tell you why now...but that is the truth. I was surprised when I saw you. Mother was angry."
"Did she say why?"
Morrigan shook her head, "No. Not really."
"Which is it?" Amell asked angrily, "No or not really?"
Morrigan pleaded, "I can't tell you, my love. Not yet. If I do...I can't lose you. Please. Please just trust me."
"I need you to go," Amell said softly, "Not away away. Just...just let me drink for awhile. I need some time to think about....it was Cousland, wasn't it? It was supposed to be bloody him saving the world, right? Instead, Flemeth was dealt the worst possible hand. I wonder who the second worst was...maybe Zevran. We'd all be screwed if it turned out to be Zevran..."
She looked up, seeing that Morrigan had already left the room. She sighed, leaning into the wall. She covered her face with her arm and tried not to cry.
***
Alistair wandered the gardens alone. Since returning from the Alienage, he had felt utterly lonely. Cousland and Anora were bickering throughout the entire Estate, Eamon chasing behind them as the three decided the fate of Ferelden. Amell had essentially locked herself in her room upon arrival, barely speaking to anyone except Zevran, who was also not at ease. The rest of their party had generally left him be, as if not knowing what to say.
He missed Tabris. Even if it was only two days. She had gone back home, just for a little while. She wanted to make sure her family was safe and secure after everything...
Alistair sat on the bench, resting his head in his hands. The party he travelled with happily for months was at odds and individually broken. Within the last three days, he had seen Cousland in a blood lust, dragged from Howe's dead body as the prince yelled and screamed. He had seen Amell, his dear friend, shattered and drunk. And now Aria.
He was with her in the Alienage when they found her father. She sobbed so hard, burying her face into his neck. Cyrion was so ill and frail, Alistair was afraid he would break him when he picked him up. The others had gone back to the Estate, leaving Alistair alone with her as she put her father to bed. When she said goodbye to him on her doorstep, Alistair felt like he failed her.
And now, he was alone. Days away from the Landsmeet, terrified. He longed so much to talk to Amell, but he could not take it if she too cast him away.
"Alistair?"
He stood up, frowning when he saw Leliana.
"There's a message for you," she said, handing a piece of paper to him, "Salome and I are going to the market for the afternoon. Would you like to come along? It would be good to get out for a bit?"
Alistair unfolded the note and his heart stopped.
"I'm sorry," he said quickly, "I need to go. Um, tell them I'll be back, as soon as I can."
***
Alistair was escorted into the office, a guard on either side of him. Loghain stood politely, walking over to his side.
"Leave us," Loghain instructed, "I am not afraid of him."
Once they were gone, Alistair growled at him, "If you've laid a finger on her-"
"Relax," Loghain said, walking back to his desk, "I assure you I had nothing to do with the arrest. One of my men saw her and recognized her. I only knew when I saw the reports this morning. Which I suppose shows more poorly of my spies than it shows my cunning. She's safe for the time being. She's a few cellblocks down. I'm told that since she has already been convicted, they need only wait for my authority to sign the death warrant. Normally the Arl of Denerim would do so, but since he is...indisposed, I assumed the responsibility."
Alistair ordered, "Let her go."
Loghain smirked, sitting on the edge of the desk, "This is a negotiation, boy. A plea bargain for her life. You know what I want."
Alistair reached into his jacket and took the slavers' contract. He took a deep breath before tossing it on the desk.
"Destroy it," Loghain commanded, "Do it yourself, in front of me. I want you to know exactly what you've done. A proper king should be able to commit crimes himself. Go on then."
Alistair took it back into his hands and tore it in two. He ripped it into pieces, leaving the pieces on the desk. Loghain stood up and left the room, speaking to a guard briefly. It seemed like an eternity before Loghain returned, two guards behind him holding back a struggling Tabris. The woman paused when she saw Alistair. They let go and she stood, transfixed.
"Your fair prince has paid the price of your life," Loghain announced, "I'll arrange for a carriage to bring you back to Eamon's Estate. I imagine you are not in the best shape to travel, girl. Please. Have something to drink before you go."
Tabris did not move, her eyes never leaving Alistair's. Her hair was shorn close to her scalp, her prison clothes far too long for her. He couldn't read her face.
They left the building together, Alistair covering her with his jacket. They went into the carriage, Alistair trying to ignore Loghain's bemused smile. Once the horses moved, Tabris finally spoke.
"What did you do?" She murmured, "You must have paid a terrible price for me."
Alistair hesitated and admitted, "I destroyed the contract in front of him. If we mention the slavers in the Alienage during the Landsmeet, we have no proof and he can only use...all of this as evidence that I'm not fit to be king."
She hit him in the chest, shoving him away, "Why the ever loving shit would you do that, Alistair? Why would you do something so-"
"Because I'm in love with you," he blurted out.
"You...you can't..." she protested, "But you-"
"If you don't love me back, I understand," he said, "After every terrible thing human men have done to you...but I do. I would have done anything to keep you safe. Tearing a piece of paper in two was nothing."
"But we needed proof," Tabris argued, "I would have died anyways, I should have died anyways. I found the proof I needed to protect my family and you just...do you ever think, Alistair?"
He flinched and her face softened. She started to cry and he tentatively held her.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, "I'm so sorry."
She kissed him softly, her hand resting on his cheek. He pulled her into his lap, running his hand through her short hair. She rested her forehead against his before kissing him again.
"I don't know what they're going to say when we get back," Alistair said, trembling, "But...no matter what, remember this. I love you. I choose you. Above everything else. I know I shouldn't but..."
"I love you," she whispered, "Maker...I've tried to stay away, I knew that it could never work...but..."
They kissed deeply, breathlessly, until the carriage pulled to a stop. They parted, Alistair wiping the tears from her eyes.
"We'll continue this later, tonight," he promised.
She nodded, smiling, "Okay."
***
The rest of the table looked at Amell in surprise as the mage burst out laughing. Amell smacked the table, laughing hysterically as Alistair, Anora, Cousland, and Eamon stared at her.
Eamon said, "I hardly think-"
Amell sighed in amusement, "Her. I should have guessed! I see why Flemeth didn't want her either. Oh poor sweet Alistair falling in love with the little Alienage girl. The chaos, the madness, oh poor Ferelden."
Anora said firmly, "Mistress Amell-"
"I'll see myself out," Amell chuckled, "Don't worry, my dear. No matter what you pick, it won't matter. Have fun. Go marry Cousland to a goat and Anora to that goat's cousin. Maybe Loghain can officiate?!"
Eamon glared at her and Amell snickered, slamming the door behind her. Morrigan stood in the hallway, crossing her arms.
"Have you made enough of a fool of yourself now?" Morrigan asked angrily, "We can hear your antics half way across the castle."
"Alistair threw away the entire Landsmeet for a girl," Amell giggled, "A girl. He's in loooove. Isn't that just adorable? It's almost like when I was responsible for the entire world going into the shitter because I fell in love with you. Hilarious, isn't it? Or is it? Because I don't know, because my girlfriend won't tell me."
"Alright, go to your room. Now. I'm finding Alistair and that girl. Stop drinking, you're going to need to be sober for this. Go. Now."
Amell saluted her and rolled her eyes before stumbling towards her bedroom. She threw herself down on the bed, pulling the sheets around her with a content sigh. She groaned as the door opened again and saw Morrigan push the other two in, locking the door behind them. Tabris and Alistair sat on the bed while Morrigan paced in front of them.
"This wasn't supposed to happen like this," Morrigan explained, "But I need to tell you before Alistair makes a foolish decision or you pickle your liver. We are all adults and should discuss this as such."
Amell sat up, bringing the blanket around her shoulders.
Morrigan took a deep breath and said, "The Archdemon can only be slain by a Grey Warden. The Warden...does not survive the encounter."
"So one of us..." Alistair tried to say, "One of us..."
"My mother sent me with you for one specific reason. I have been taught a ritual to be performed as close to the death of the Archdemon as possible. If it is completed, no Grey Warden need die," Morrigan said, "I was to keep this is a secret for as long as possible. I was told that she would save two Wardens, one of which she hoped would be the future King of Ferelden. The other I was to tempt into this ritual. I was to bring him into my confidence...to make him fall in love with me."
"Him?" Alistair asked, glancing at Amell.
"Clearly my mother was mistaken," Morrigan continued.
Amell remembered tiredly, "She mentioned that there were seven of us."
Morrigan nodded, "From what I have been able to tell from her grimoire, she foresaw seven possible Wardens. Only one would survive to Ostagar, the rest would be long dead by then. But from what it seems...unlikely how it is...all seven candidates survived their trials. I can only guess who the other six are, but I know Lord Cousland is one, just from the description my mother gave me. She thought that all candidates would be acceptable, except for two. One being the current Warden, from what you have told me, my love. And the other...I would hazard to guess is you."
The three turned to Tabris, who asked, "Why me?"
Morrigan put her hands together and said nervously, "Because of what this ritual entails. In order to stop the Archdemon from taking over another form, the Old Soul must be purified. An unborn child exposed to the Taint will call the Soul into it. The child would be born perfectly healthy, simply possessing the soul of an Old God. But...the child must be conceived in me. And there is only one male Grey Warden..."
Alistair stood up, "No."
Morrigan sighed, "And that is why Mother did not want either your lover or mine to survive. I imagine if Warden Amell was sober enough to stand up, she would be protesting just as much as you are now."
Amell ran her hand through her hair, trying to understand as Alistair banged his fist on the wall. Tabris sat numbly, not saying a word.
"What would happen after?" Amell asked.
Morrigan said quietly, "I was to raise the child on my own. What followed next...would be uncertain."
"So," Alistair laughed nervously, "Flemeth, the Witch of the Wilds, was worried your plan would be destroyed if either of us fell in love? She's scared of love?"
"That seems likely, yes," Morrigan agreed.
"Why are you telling us this now?" Amell asked.
Morrigan replied, "Because there should be no more secrets between any of us. You...I do not want to see you like this. To see you think that you are the downfall of all...it breaks my heart."
"So you decide together," Tabris said, looking at the others, "I feel like I shouldn't take part. This isn't-"
Amell pulled Tabris back to her and shook her head.
"Here's my thought," Amell said, "Alistair, you clearly don't want to be king. I get it, I respect it. We marry Cousland off to Anora. She's gay, he's gay, it would be perfect."
"She's gay?" Alistair asked in confusion.
Amell nodded, "Totally with Loghain's lieutenant for like six years. They're pretty cute...anyways, they get politically married. They seem to like each other well enough. We get out of all this political bullshit. We do this ritual nonsense, but Tabby Cat here-"
"Don't ever call me that."
"Sorry," Amell continued, "She and I know everything involved. I don't need positions or anything like that, just what happened. Then if by magic we all survive, Alistair goes off and lives happily ever after with his better half. The baby isn't his, he just did us all a solid."
Alistair went bright red as Amell concluded, "And Morrigan and I raise the baby together. I'm not leaving you. I understand if you want to leave me because I've been a drunken ass. But I love you. I'm not letting some hag in a hut telling me that this is a bad thing."
Morrigan smiled softly, trying to hide it.
"I'm going to talk to Adair," Alistair said, clearing his throat, "And the rest...well...let's think about it. Just...it's a lot to-"
"He's a virgin," Amell confided to Tabris, patting her on the arm, "It's okay though, you have lots of time to break him in."
Alistair nearly ran into the doorframe before escaping from the room. The elven woman sighed, hiding her head in her hands. Amell ruffled her hair and tried to stand, feeling her knees give out. Morrigan caught her and placed her on the settee. Amell could hear Tabris leave, but she was too focused on Morrigan pulling the blanket around her.
"Go sleep, my lush," she teased.
Amell leaned up and kissed her tenderly.
"I meant what I said," she murmured, "Let's have a baby together."
"Go sleep," Morrigan ordered, "You smell like a brewery."
***
Amell and Tabris both laid awake that night, curled beside each other in the bed. Neither one of them really wanted to witness what was happening in the next room, nor did they truly want to discuss the actual act. But both of them couldn't help but discuss what would happen next.
Tabris said with a soft smile, "You realize if Alistair and I have kids, our children will be siblings. It will make for very weird family reunions."
Amell chuckled, "But fun ones. Oh, you will. I see a hoard of babies in your future. The three of us will come visit you in your full house. You know Alistair has asked me to be his best man."
"I thought he would," Tabris said gleefully, "I told him, no shame in having a woman by his side. So you'll stay around Denerim, just for the ceremony? I'm sure Morrigan will want to run off to the Woods the minute it's all over."
Amell shook her head, "Not so much. We've got good friends, good support. Maybe once he's born, but we can keep her safe until then."
Amell rolled over to face her and said, "I'm glad I didn't end up doing this alone."
Tabris yawned, "I appreciate surviving as well. Come on, get some sleep."
***
Amell entered the great hall and paused, looking at her friends and companions. Alistair was talking to a scowling Eamon, his arm protectively around his new wife. Amell gave him a little nod and kept walking.
"Your majesty," Amell greeted in surprise, bowing at the sight of Queen Helena.
Aeducan bowed in return and took her hands in hers, "It is good to see you, Miss Amell. I have come to congratulate your companion Lord Cousland on his coronation. It is important that we have better relations with Denerim, after all. I hope you will be pleased to know that the Grey Wardens will soon have a new outpost in my city. Your brothers and sisters will have whatever they need before venturing into the Deep Roads."
"You are too kind," Amell said.
"I bring greetings as well from Miss Brosca," Aeducan continued, "My...friend has decided to leave for Orlais with your Leliana. They both apologize for their absence and send their regards. I should greet the nobility. Please, I would love for you to come and stay with us for a time. I would love to know you better."
Amell bowed as Aeducan left her side. She continued on, seeing an uncomfortable Mahariel hiding in the corner. Amell greeted her, the archer nodding curtly.
"I have been discussing my options with Alistair," Mahariel said, "I have told him that I am to follow you to Amaranthine and become a Grey Warden in earnest. If you would have me serve you."
"Of course, sister," Amell said, "The Orleasians will be lucky to have you."
"You are not going?" Mahariel asked in surprise.
"For a time," Amell said, "Just to establish our presence. But..."
Amell looked over at Morrigan who was in conversation with Surana, the mages comparing their growing baby bumps. Amell smiled before turning back.
"My lady needs me," Amell said.
Mahariel shook her hand, "I look forward to our time together, however brief."
"Thank you," Amell said, "For everything."
Amell waved at Surana and Morrigan as she passed, Surana gleefully waving back. The two continued their conversation as Amell came nearer to the throne, seeing a very nervous Cousland pacing nearby.
"You'll be fine," she reassured, "It's a formality. You're not even really becoming King."
"Tell that to my brother," Cousland said, gesturing to the punch table, "He's convinced everyone I'm secretly of the Theirin bloodline and will be the next great leader of the free world."
"Are you?"
"Of course not," Cousland rolled his eyes, "Though Anora is still having a good laugh at me. I would have not guessed her to be such a tease."
"Are you happy?" Amell asked, "Because you can still run off with me and join the Wardens."
"I'll pass," he chuckled, "But thanks for the offer."
The Grand Cleric approached them and Amell patted him on the back before walking back over to Morrigan. She kissed her softly, stroking her belly fondly. They looked up at the throne, watching their companion crowned Prince-Consort.
"I don't think this is anything like your mother had in mind," Amell teased.
Morrigan rested her head on her shoulder and murmured, "It is much better."