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In good times and in bad	By : kruemel Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 14749 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: Dragon Age and the characters of the game do not belong to me. This is a no profit fanfiction

Chapter List
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@Myron: Did I write what you think I wrote? Ah, I've been asked that so often. And I still won't tell. ;) Thank you for your lovely comment. Readers like you make writing this story even more fun.
@discord_the_lunatic: If she is pregnant, the timing would indeed suck. We will see. Well, you will see, I already know (unless my dear characters develope a life of their own again.) ;)
We leave our stuff hidden behind some bushes outside Howe's estate. Yet another he has stolen from the rightful owners - although I have far less sympathy for that prick Vaughan Kendells than I have for Rori.
I'd like to say that Morrigan for once is decently covered but she refuses to put on the stolen uniforms, claiming they were filthy and smelly, and instead shapeshifts into a mabari bitch - much to Barkley's delight who immediately tries to sniff her butt - and to Morrigan's utter dismay. Just because she's a dog now, doesn't mean she's much into the canine way of saying hello to each other and the last place where she wants Barkley's snout, is her hindquarters.
Maker! I laugh so hard, I topple over and roll around on the ground. It's a good thing that the angry mob of craftsmen at Howe's front door makes such a ruckus or we'd laugh ourselves into deep shit trouble right now.
That dog has earnt himself a huge steak. He certainly deserves it.
"Stop that, you silly dog! Once she's a witch again, she'll neuter you with a wooden spoon!" Rori gasps in between her uncontrolable fits of laughter.
Her warhound practically freezes, tilts his head to one side as if he was considering his chances to puppy-dog-eye himself out of the mess he created, and then - proving once again that mabari are a specially intelligent breed - decides, he'd better not take the risk. Morrigan growls lowly at him, all fangs bared. Then she gets the extremely bright idea to turn into a black cat instead...
Barkley yelps excitedly and does what every good dog would do when encountering a feline. Morrigan hisses and scrambles up a wall, scowling down at the dog as he keeps barking frantically at her.
Oh merciful Andraste! I can't breathe anymore!
"I'm with stupid!" I snicker, pointing at the witch cat on the wall. This is the very best moment of my life. Ever. Okay, the very best Morrigan-moment. There's all those precious Rori-moments of course that finally make my life worth living. But when it comes to glee... then this is it! Ha! Hahaha!
"Okay, stop that... now. All of you! Barkley, sit! Alistair, you, too, stop barking at Morrigan!" Rori puts an end to the outbreak of complete silliness that has us laugh ourselves to tears. She can hardly speak with her gigglefits, nevertheless she tries with a stern face and tone. "Morrigan, maybe you want to reconsider the filthy, smelly uniform? No? Well, your choice. So, everybody ready? Can we go now?"
"Morrigan, you for sure know how to put the cat among the pigeons," Zevran snickers at the feline witch, safely tucked under Rori's arm by now. With that look on her furry face, she'd win any grumpy cat contest.
"Well, she likes to believe, she's the cat's meow," I smirk as we sneak past the guards that Erlina has lured away from the door. Yeah, I am so going to rub it in! I hardly ever win when it comes to verbal duels with Morrigan. Actually like never. Ah, payback is a bitch... a witch-bitch... haha! "Seems she's not all the cat's pajamas, though."
"'Now, lets see what Anora wants from us and how the cat jumps," Leliana adds, giggling girlishly.
As Erlina has it all planned out, it's no big deal to get into the estate. And still, once we're inside, I feel like... a mouse. Like a mouse that walked into one of these live catch traps for the cheese. And, you know, I really wouldn't be surprised if we found the cheese to be poisonous.
As soon as the door closes behind us and we're in, Rori turns on her heels and pulls me into a fierce kiss. I've had her kiss me like that before when we got into situations we were unlikely to survive. It's her way to say goodbye, just in case. She'd never say it out loud and she doesn't have to. It's all there in her kiss. Morrigan, still tucked under her arm, hisses and meows and struggles to get free.
"We'll go in, free Anora, and leave with her. We've been in worse situations. So no big deal," I whisper to my ginger assuringly as I run my thumb across her cheek tenderly. "This is the Sneaky Squad at work. Nobody will even know, we're here."
"From your lips to the Maker's ears," Rori mutters under her breath. She leans her head against my chest and I wrap my arms tighter around her. "I love you."
"I love you, too."
That's more than Morrigan can endure. She scratches me and bites Rori who drops the witch cat, cursing under her breath as she sucks at her thumb. "I'm pretty much tempted to kick you. You're lucky that you look so cute right now," Rori growls.
I don't care for cuteness. Not when it comes to Morrigan. She looks mean. Always. Even when she's a cat. So I deliberately step on her tail, acting as if I was just being clumsy. The cat shrieks and darts off into the crowded dining hall, where a maid loaded with a tray stumbles over her and sends tray, plates and food flying, showering some nearby guards with the whole mess...
"Awesome!" Zevran exclaims when the uproar starts. "Never could have caused a better distraction myself."
Nobody really takes notice of us when we pass through. They are too busy trying to catch the cat, shout obscenities at the miserable maid and such. It really isn't pretty. I almost choke on the effort to suppress my laughter at the sight of Morrigan scrambling away frantically. Meanwhile Erlina shows us the way to Anora. And that's where the whole mission becomes tricky. From this point on there's so nothing more to laugh about.
"Thank the Maker!" a female voice sounds through the closed door as soon as Erlina announces our presence. "I would greet you properly, but I'm afraid we had... a setback."
"Oh, don't bother. Proper greetings get overrated anyway. Nowadays I consider it a warm welcome when nobody tries to bash my head in at first sight," Rori replies as she examines the lock of the door that seperates the queen from us.
"How do we know, she's really Queen Anora?" I whisper to my beloved fellow Grey Warden. "It could be some trick, couldn't it?"
"How am I supposed to answer that? Shall I try to shove my crown under the door? Do you think the royal family has a secret knock?" a rather unnerved voice snaps.
"Oh, now that would be cool, wouldn't it? Secret knocks and passwords...," I say giddily.
"Are you the one in charge? I pray to the Maker that the answer is no," the voice comments.
"I'm convinced. This is definitely Anora. And she's going to order us around within the next two sentences," Rori mutters gloomily. Then she adds without much enthusiasm while she already goes through her collection of lock picks to find the fitting one: "What setback?"
"My 'host' was not content with leaving me under heavy guard. He's sealed the door by magic."
Rori freezes midair, lock pick in hand. "Ah... okay... nice, someone feels like giving us that piece of information... before we trigger some nasty spell." She scowls at Erlina.
"I didn't know!" the elf cries. "I swear there were only guards here when I left. We must get her out of there!"
"Don't panic, Erlina!" Anora commands.
"Okay, so how do we open it? Anybody got any ideas?" Rori turns to the witch cat that has managed to escape the angry guards, but Morrigan only arches her back and hisses. "I take that as a no."
"Find the mage who cast the spell," Anora's voice sounds through the closed door. "He must likely be at Howe's side."
"So much for secrecy," Rori groans. "You are aware that the house is crammed with soldiers, aren't you?"
"Well, if Howe didn't know you were here, he soon will."
"You think?" Rori snorts, arms crossed in front of her chest. "That sounds like a trap to me..."
"Please do not leave my queen here!" Erlina beseeches us.
"Free me and I'll promise you my help in the Landsmeet."
Rori and I exchange a look. The ways she frowns, she's not convinced. Not that we have a choice. And even if we had, I wouldn't leave Anora here. "Alright! Alright! We'll go!" Rori finally snaps.
"Teyrn Howe..." Erlina begins.
"Howe is no teyrn!" Rori hisses, almost jumping into the poor elf's face. "He's a murderer and a traitor! He's scum and no title can change anything about that. And that's the nicest things I can possibly say about him!"
"You are wasting time, Lady Rori. Are you done now with your useless rant?" Anora asks unnervedly from behind the door.
"No, no, I am not done!" Rori snaps, bristling with anger. "I'm never done! Because whenever I think I am, there's someone around the next corner - or behind a magically closed door - who wants me to risk my life for them!"
Silence.
"Howe's probably in his room down the corridor," Anora finally prompts bossily.
"On my way! Maker!"
"Thank you! My prayers are with you," Anora calls after us.
"Prayers! An army would be something. Bloody blast it! If I had known, sneaky wouldn't do it, I'd have brought Shale, Sten and Oghren, too." And off Rori storms. Her faithful companions trudge behind. I feel a bit like walking on egg shells when Rori's temper is on display.
"Err... Rori? Are you okay?" I ask timidly.
"I really don't like this," Rori complains. "This is all so... rotten. I feel manipulated. Like I'm working for Loghain right now without really wanting it and not having a choice." Groaning, she leans her head against the wall of the corridor and inhales deeply to regain her composure. She looks as if she's about to be sick. "Remember what I said about Howe being a problem for Loghain?" she mutters when I hug her from behind and kiss her neck. Maker, she's tense! "We're solving it for him right now. Either we kill Howe or Howe kills us. It's a win-win-situation for Loghain and a lose-lose one for us."
"I dare say, that's a rather apt summary of the situation," Leliana agrees.
"Blast," I mutter. Did I mention I feel like a mouse in a trap? And there's not even cheese here... only Queen Anora, but I doubt she'd like to be compared to cheese. And I certainly like cheese better than her. And Rori. I do like Rori best, better than cheese and definitely better than Anora... Maker! I'm babbling complete nonesense. Don't listen to me. It's just my nerves being on edge...
My stomach rumbles noisily.
"How can you possibly be hungry now?" Leliana wonders.
"It's all that thinking about cheese, you know..."
"Cheese? Oh, nevermind! Forget I asked."
Some trouble later we find, Howe is not in his room. Sure! Why should anything ever be easy? So off we go, down the next flight of stairs - that leads us straight into the dungeons. Now, that wouldn't have been my first choice for locating my study and bedroom if this was my estate, but Howe seems to be quite fine with it.
"He's such a sick bastard," Rori murmurs under her breath as if she read my mind.
"Oh, you can have some interesting pastime in a dungeon, if that's the kind of entertainment you enjoy. Do a little roleplay with all the dom-sub stuff. There should be a whole lot of awesome equipment. Just don't forget your safe word," Zevran cheerfully exclaims. Rori and I exchange a look of utter confusion.
"Uhm...," Rori begins, ignoring me shaking my head no.
Before Rori can ask the elf yet another fatal question, we run into a guard - that gets his neck broken and dragged into the cell behind him by whoever is imprisoned there.
"Oh, wow, now, that trick could come in handy in case we ever find ourselves imprisoned somewhere," I mutter as we all take a step backwards - just in case something nasty is going to emerge from that cell.
"Alas, I'd take a less brutal approach," Zevran says. "Seduce them, steal their dagger when they less expect it... and hasta la vista, baby!"
"But what if the guard is a man?" I wonder, causing Morrigan to snort and Leliana to giggle. "What? It wouldn't work then, would it?"
The elf shrugs and grins broadly. "A man's got to do what a man's got to do."
Huh? Err... oh! OH! Uhm.. I think, err... I'd rather stick with the neck-breaking.
"In case the guard's a man, you could also fake an illness. However, that usually only works when your host wants you alive and well," Leliana adds, still giggling.
"Best you don't get captured," Rori comments. The rather smelly man with the rather fuzzy dark beard emerging from the cell now, obviously didn't heed that advice.
"I thank you for creating such distraction, strangers," he greets us while he still tries to get the stolen uniform adjusted. "I've been waiting days for the opportunity. Do you think you could...?" He stops dead, staring at me as if he was seeing a ghost. "Alistair? Is that you?"
"Err...huh?... Last time I checked, yes, I'm me... Alistair... but who? Wait! I do know you! You were at my Joining!" Maker, I can't believe there's really another Grey Warden here! And one who has been part of the order for much longer - not as long as that shrivelled nutcase of a mage Avernus, but that makes it even better. Perhaps someone finally can answer all the questions Rori and I have. "He's one of us. A Warden from Orlais."
"Oh woot! A third Grey Warden! It's getting rather crowded," Rori cheers, clapping her hands. Barkley cocks his head to one side and announces his presence with a sharp bark. "Oh! Sorry, Barkley! How could I forget about you? Four Grey Wardens! It's getting better!" She peeps past the escaped prisoner into his cell, empty but for the dead guard. "You don't happen to hide some more in that cell? No? Good! Too many and the whole thing with the Blight would lose it's thrill."
"Did you have a bowl of sarcasm for breakfast?" I chuckle.
"With milk and sugar," Rori confirms.
The Grey Warden looks from Rori to me and back again - and he doesn't seem happy. Not at all. Well, Rori isn't happy either, but I blame that on the Howe-business. This man here isn't happy with us.
"Kids," the Warden mutters - and it sounds so... terribly sad. But the way he scrutinizes us right afterwards... it sends a cold shiver down my spine. Rori and I look at each other at the same time in confusion. So she has noticed it, too...
"I'm afraid I don't remember your name," I apologize to our brother in arms.
"No surprise there," Morrigan sneers. "Tis a mystery how he manages to remember his own name." I liked her so much better as a cat.
"I'm Riordan. Senior Warden of Jader, but born and bred in Highever and glad to be home."
"The lodging could have been better," I comment.
"Indeed. Howe captured me with an offer of hospitality and a poisoned chalice. I was fool enough to think, Loghain didn't yet know who I was."
"At least you live to regret your foolishness," Rori murmurs. "Others who trusted Howe weren't as lucky."
"Your accent betrays your background, young lady," Riordan observes. "You have to be Lady Rori Cousland of Highever. I have heard of your family's fate. Allow me to express my deepest sympathy for your loss. Still, I am glad to find a sister from Highever has joined our ranks."
"Howe will pay for this," Rori hisses. "So will Loghain."
"From the rumours flying through Denerim, removing him from the throne is already your plan, no?"
"Yep. And as soon as we got this done, we'll remove him from life," I add grimly.
"We have an awfully tight schedule," Rori sighs. "So, as nice as it is to stand around in some dark dungeons and have a little chat, we should get going before the guards come searching for us down here."
Rori returns the Grey Warden documents she found in Howe's room back to Riordan and since he cannot help us in any way at the moment, we agree to meet back at Arl Eamon's – in case we survive this madness – and then we're on our own again. No senior Warden guidance for the kiddos. Just good luck and farewell and off he hobbles.
The dungeon is gloomy with moist walls and it stinks of mold and blood and all the soft and liquid unmentionables that flesh creatures produce. Then there's the distant cries of pain and groans and whimpers, all mixed with the rattling of chains and occasionally the evil, nasty laughter of someone who indeed seems to have a rather good time down here.
Maker, I do hope Riordan makes it out alive! Although he should have far less trouble than Oswyn and Irminic. Hopefully they did as Rori told them and teamed up with Soris. I'm not that concerned about Vaughan, that prick! I'd have gladly left him in his cell. He's as bad as Howe - perhaps even worse. However, Leliana advices, his support could help us in the Landsmeet. Hmph. I still don't like it. "You can always get rid of him afterwards," Zevran adds gaily. "I happen to know of an unemployed Antivan assassin, you see..." I'm almost tempted.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, we stumble through the door we've been looking for and right into Howe and his bootlickers.
„Well, well, Bryce Cousland's little spitfire all grown up and still playing the man,“ Howe sneers as soon as he catches sight of Rori. He has quite a big mouth, considering we made it that far down into the dungeons of his estate, intruded it secretly – until I accidentely walked in on a guard and a maid licking lampposts – well, she was licking his lamppost... Anyway, after that the Sneaky Squad turned into a Slaughter Squad with as much efficiency. And now we're here... I guess, Howe not being surprised at all is not a good sign, right?
„I never thought, you'd be fool enough to turn up here," Howe goes on. "And then, I'd never thought you'd live either.“
„Glad to disappoint. Won't be the last time,“ Rori retorts. „And I still play a strong and independent woman. Rather successfully, if I may add so. “ She's wary, agitated – and awfully uncomfortable as the armour she still wears for disguise sports Howe's family crest.
„Such as you will never find a man,“ Howe retorts snidely.
„Such as I just need a real man,“ Rori replies sweetly. Her imperturbability is a show. I've seen her before we walked in through that door and she was far from calm. She rather would have chosen the moment of her revenge instead of being manipulated into playing Loghain's game. This way, she's but a pawn and bereft of her venegance.
Howe's face burns red with anger and the sneer is wiped off his face. „I'll give you a real man before I cut your throat!“ he shouts, losing his composure for a moment.
„You got one hidden in one of your cells?“ Rori asks innocently. Behind her back, Zevran gives her thumbs up and Leliana beams with pride. Yeah, this is my woman! And she rocks!
Howe by now looks as if he was about to explode. „I thought Loghain made it clear that your pathetic family is gone and forgotten,“ he presses through gritted teeth.
„You have not forgotten. Even now when they are all dead, you find you're insignificant and insipid in comparison. It will haunt you forever... well, at least for the next few minutes which will be all that is left of 'forever' for you,“ Rori snaps, losing what frail composure she could manage.
„Your parents died on their knees. Your brother's corpse rots in Ostagar and his brat was burned on a scrapheap along with his Antivan whore of a wife,“ Howe spits.
Okay... I dare say, Rori has hit a nerve there. One look at her and I almost feel sorry for Howe. Nah, not really.
„And what's left? A fool husk of a daughter," Howe goes on, "likely to end her days under a rock in the Deep Roads. Even the Wardens are gone. You're the last of nothing. This is pointless. You've lost.“
Rori's expression is feral with a deathly determination. She straightens, holding her head up high, and despite her being just a petite teenage girl, she has a grandeur that indeed makes Howe pale in comparison. „I know your game,“ she says in a voice so calm and cold, it sends shivers down my spine. The cute little redhead is gone. It's like Gingersnaps' returns and I so wouldn't be surprised if she shapeshifted into a monsterous werewolf that very moment. I almost wish she would just for the look on Howe's face. „No shadows. No lies. Just you and me.“
Oh, wait! Whoa! Is she... is she challenging him for a duel?
Rori takes one step forward, seperating herself from her companions. She has locked her eyes with Howe's and it is him to look away as he begins to squirm.
„There it is, right there, the damn look in the eye that marked every Cousland's success that held me back,“ Howe exclaims. For the first time ever since we walked in, he's not sneering. Instead, he's impressed to the point where he begrudingly has to show his opponent some respect. „It would appear that you've made something of yourself after all. Your father would be proud. I on the other hand want you dead more than ever.“
Rori's expression softens for a moment when Howe speaks of her father. Damn yes, Bryce Cousland would have every reason to be proud of his daughter. I am proud of her. She doesn't play but is a strong and independent woman. And Howe is not man enough to fight her alone. It does not save him. Rori does not stand alone either and while her companions engage Howe's guards in a fight, she gets to duel him.
Mind you, Howe doesn't fight fair. But Rori doesn't either. And despite the resentment she has when it comes to Isabela, the pirate queen's duel lessons do come in handy now. Howe is taller, stronger and more experienced than Rori and that makes him underestimate her. He quickly has to find out, she's not as unexperienced as he remembers. She finds the weaknesses in his defense with deadly accuracy. And she fights like a cat, toying with her prey. Rori clearly has no intention to make his death quick and fast. She's making him pay.
Pirouetting out of Howe's way, Rori quickly stabs him in the side from behind with her dagger, coming close enough to hiss into his ear: „That's how my father was wounded when you backstabbed him.“ With a twist of the blade, she pulls her knife free, causing Howe to stumble. With the next few blows, she brings him down to his knees. He's clutching his side as a puddle of blood forms around him.
Rori towers over him, the tip of her sword – formerly Duncan's – pointed at his throat. „Now you die on your knees. There's no greatness in you, Howe. And history will treat you just like the insignificance you are. You've lost.“
„Maker spit on you.“ Howe gurgles, as blood sputters from his mouth. „I deserved... more.“
„Blast yes, you did,“ Rori snaps, only reining herself in with some effort to not kick the dying man's head. „But I don't know how to work all those devices you got and we killed all your torturers...“
„That was a bit overhasty,“ Zevran agrees.
With a strangled sound, Howe falls back and dies. The moment he is dead, Rori slumps against the wall and slides to the ground. She's trembling as if she was freezing. "Hush, my love, it's over now," I whisper to her as I kneel beside her and hug her close.
"No, it's not," she says in a choked voice. "It has only just begun."
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In good times and in bad