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Hoping One Day We'll Make A Dream Last	By : kruemel Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 3679 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Dragon Age and the characters of the game do not belong to me. This is a no profit fanfiction

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
- 10
The parcel arrived at the day of my coronation while I was having breakfast with a painfully awake and seriously annoyed Eamon, a slightly disgruntled Teagan - and Rori. The archdemon wouldn't have made for a worse breakfast company.

Eamon was mad at me for having fired Arlington on Rori's advice. I hadn't liked doing this. I wasn't specially fond of Arlington but still I didn't want him to lose his job. Perhaps he had family. Unfortunately Rori was right when she said that a butler had to be 100% loyal. Arlington, however, was Eamon's man. I couldn't keep him. Needless to say Eamon hadn't been delighted - and had sent Teagan to bring me back to reason. To his utter dismay Teagan jumped ship and Eamon had a row with his brother. That's what had caused their now shamelessly displayed cheerfulness.

Rori... well. actually she had nothing to complain about. We had spent a whole lot time in the walk-in-closet, especially in front of that mirror. And then we had moved to the bed for some more exertions... Admittedly it had been a rather long night. Bleary-eyed, she now clung to her mug of coffee as if her life depended on it and gloomily stared across the rim of the mug whenever anybody dared to address her. Her answers came as incomprehendible grunts of displeasure and malcontent.

Since I'm smarter than I look - really! - I kept my mouth shut and just sat there with my elbow proped on the table and my head resting on my hand - otherwise I would have slammed face forward into my bowl of porridge. As I said, it had been a long night...

"After breakfast it is time for matins," Eamon read off an alarmingly long list. "Afterwards his Highness will stay in the chapel for meditation..."

Awesome! And there I had thought there wouldn't be time for a nap today.

"Afterwards..."

I didn't really listen anymore from that point on because Rori had finished her second cup of coffee. That always worked like magic on her. From that point on one could consider her as a human being. She now clamped a slice of fried bacon between her upper lip and nose, a makeshift moustache, and with her napkin in hand instead of a piece of paper imitated Eamon's rather dull performance. She even wagged her finger at me like the Arl. Eamon right next to her didn't notice. He was so concentrated on controlling everything, most of all the future king.

I tried not to look her way. I tried to stay earnest. I even catapulted porridge at her with my spoon to make her behave. My first spoonload sailed over her head. The second slapped onto the table left of her hand. I reloaded, aimed carefully and... with a loud SMACK the porridge hit Arl Eamon Guerrin right in the face.

Doom!

DOOM!

There was dead and ominous silence as Eamon slowly laid his list on the table, reached for his napkin and wiped his face clean carefully. Then he glared at me across the table. Sitting there, spoon still in hand, I couldn't even say it hadn't been me. So I just grinned foolishly and shrugged. That Rori fell off her chair, rolling around on the floor in hysterics didn't make the situation any better. Teagan next to me stuffed his napkin into his mouth to stiffle his laugh. His eyes were already bulging out of their sockets when he slipped under the table. The moment he was out of sight howling laughter filled the room.

I was the only one left and Eamon's accusing stare bore into me like a knife.

"There's... there's porridge stuck in your eyebrows, mylord," I croaked out, wiggling around on my chair uncomfortably.

Eamon didn't say a word. He reached for his napkin again, wiped his eyebrows and never stopped glowering at me. I wished he would shout and get mad but all he did was look at me, annoyed and - worse - disappointed.

Without my guilty grin fading I slowly sank back in my chair until I slipped under the table as well. Teagan again gnawed at his napkin, his eyes bleary with tears. Rori hiccupped in between uncontrolable gigglefits. I lasted about ten seconds, then I joined in. I felt awfully guilty about it but with Teagan and Rori in hysterics, I just couldn't hold back.

Arl Eamon sighed. Then he returned to his breakfast.

I was just playing rock, paper, scissors with Rori and Teagan as none of us wanted to be the first one to reappear from under the table, when my new butler entered. Well, actually he stood in the doorway and shuffled his feet. I recognized his footwear and as the poor lad felt as out of place here as I did, I felt obliged to help him.

"Soris!" I exclaimed, emerging from under the table.

"Y-your Highness," the elf replied. He probably still wondered how in the name of the Maker he had ended up as the king's butler. He was obviously uncomfortable in his fine clothes. Still he was the perfect butler for me - at least that's what Shianni and Rori wanted us to believe. We were both equally clueless when it came to our job requirements. And we both knew extremely stubborn women. "There... this..." He shrugged helplessly, all dressed up and nowhere to go. In his arms he held a wooden box with a row of holes at the side. "You got a gift... prince... Ser..." Uneasily he placed the present on the table and opened the lid.

"Awww! A puppy!" I exclaimed, lifting the little furball out of the box. He wagged his tiny tail, whined happily and licked my face when I cuddled him. "He likes me!" I beamed at the little dog. "Good boy!"

"How dare they!" Eamon droned, snatching the puppy away from me.

"Hey!"

Eamon ignored my protest and shoved the dog back into the box, handing it to Soris. "Drown it!"

"WHAT!?" I cried. "No! This is my dog!"

"This beast is unworthy! Not fit for a king."

"Why not?" I did not understand what was wrong with the cuddly floppy eared puppy. He had the strong built of a mabari, with a longer snout and tail. I turned to Rori and found her sitting on her chair, staring at the puppy slack-jawed and obviously shocked. Teagan was kneading his napkin nervously. Only Alistair the Clueless had no idea what was wrong.

"It's an insult!" Eamon bellowed, his face bright red with anger. "Who sent this?"

"WHOA! Wait! Stop it! Now! Can anybody here explain to me what's going on?" It was only a dog, a little innocent puppy. Really nothing to get upset about, right? Right?

Rori put her hand on my arm comfortingly. "He is a mongrel, Alistair..." And when I still didn't get it, she added: "Just like you."

I stared at her uncomprehendingly. "So what?"

"A pedigree mabari is a dog worth a king," Teagan explained. "This pup, he's underbred. Dogs like him, we usually drown them. They are worth nothing."

"Well, you won't drown Barkspawn!" I snorted, snatching the puppy from poor Soris before Eamon could.

"Barkspawn," Rori giggled. "Cute!"

"Dangerous," I corrected her indignantly. "Menacing, mysterious. Come on, Barkspawn, show her!" The puppy woofed happily and wagged his tail when Rori scratched him behind the ears.

"Cute," she grinned.

"Barkspawn, you and I will have to talk from man to man," I muttered.

"You cannot keep him!" Eamon insisted, horrified by the mere thought.

"Why not?" I pressed the puppy against my chest, aware that I sounded like a sullen child. Absolutely nothing they could possibly say or do would make me give up my puppy!

"It's like holding up a sign. Look at me, I am the bastard king.," Teagan said, angrily throwing his napkin onto the table. "Whoever sent this... gift... is making fun of you, Alistair!"

"I will keep him," I retorted. It's not that I didn't get the message. A worthless mongrel, that's what I was for many nobles. They didn't believe I could rule this nation as their king. In their eyes it was the Guerrins and Couslands pulling the strings. I suppose, they could have accepted a puppet king if only he had been of pure noble origin.

"Alistair! Be reasonable!" Eamon groaned.

"Barkspawn shall be trained with the pure bred mabari," I decided, completely ignoring the Arl. Eamon wheezed as if he was about to have a heart attack. "The bastard king and his mongrel. What you get is what you see, right?" I smiled sadly at the pup in my arms.

"Your Highness, as your advisor I have to interpose my veto," Eamon croaked.

"Alistair's right," Rori came to my aid. The way Eamon glared at her he would have gladly drowned her along with the dog. "He cannot change who he is. To act as if he was somebody else will mark him a target. He can disarm his foes by openly adhering to his heritage." She grinned impishly. "It's a bit like flipping these sod-eating rodents the bird."

"Or they will believe Alistair is too dumb to see the meaning behind this... gift," Teagan pointed out.

"Now, wouldn't that be awesome for my reputation?" I deadpanned. "We wouldn't want anybody to feel forced to abandon their prejudices."

"What if the dog fails the training?" Eamon grunted. "It will reflect discredit on Alistair."

"What you actually want to say is: What if the king fails following in his father's footsteps?" Rori retorted. "You wouldn't even dare to wonder if he wasn't a bastard but Maric's legitimate child."

Eamon once more had to accept a defeat. He rubbed his temples tiredly. Whenever he had a controversy with me he looked ten years older afterwards. I almost felt sorry for him. He was trying to do his best for Ferelden. I wasn't altogether sure if this also was the best for me. "The mutt at least should have an impressive name."

"Barkspawn already has a name," I pointed out.

"Your Highness...," Eamon began.

"Barkspawn really is a stupid name," Rori cut the Arl short, her voice as sweet as honey. "I think you should call him Eamon. I mean, you owe the Arl so much, to honour him with naming your dog after him is the least you should do." Smiling a wide fake smile she turned to the Arl. "What do you think?"

"Barkspawn is fine," Eamon pressed through gritted teeth. Behind his back I gave Rori a high-five.

"Instead of wasting time on arguing about the dog's name, we should try to find out who sent him," Teagan reasoned. "It seems like a nasty joke, but I bet there's much more about it. Soris, what can you tell us?"

"I don't know anything, Lord Teagan," Soris hurried to say. "They say the parcel stood in front of the servants' entrance with a note attached."

"What did the note say?" Rori asked when Soris fell silent.

He squirmed and beat around the bush for some time, obviously unwilling to tell, before he blurted out: "For the usurper of the throne, that's what it said."

"Blast!" Rori and I said in unison. None of us had ever believed it would be easy. However, I had not expected anybody to attack me like that a few weeks after the blasted Blight had ended and before my coronation..

"This is alarming, yet nothing you should waste time on now, Alistair," Eamon reminded me of my tight schedule for this day. "You have to prepare for your coronation. It would be unwise to keep the Grand Cleric waiting for you. We wouldn't want to antagonize the Chantry."

"I know her, right," I sighed.

"Please try not to fall asleep during matins!" Eamon went on lecturing me. "Drawing eyes onto your eyelids didn't work ten years ago. It won't work now," he added when all I offered in reply was a smug grin.

Blast! The man just knew me too well!

"While you have your date with the Grand Cleric, I'll talk to Zevran," Rori said when we left the room together with Barkspawn on our heels.

"Maker! You don't want to... err... have him use his... special skills!?" I squeaked.

"Of course not!"

"Whew!"

"First I have to find out who's the target..."

"RORI!"

"Don't worry, Alistair." Rori tiptoed to give me a peck to the cheek and a quick hug. "You meet the Grand Cleric, I take care of the rest. I'll be back in time for your coronation."

If that was meant to comfort me it didn't work. I watched her walk away with Barkspawn in tow, feeling rather uneasy about what Zevran and she could possibly do. My imagination ran wild and still I probably couldn't think of half of the things those two were capable of. In addition that meant I had to endure matins all alone and noone there to at least play 'I spy with my little eye' with me.

Pouting I moved on - and ran straight into Sten, backpack and sword included.

"It is time for me to leave," he greeted me in his monotonous voice. "The Arishok has been waiting for an answer for too long."

"But today is my coronation," I protested. "You are the only Qunari here. Shouldn't you stay to represent your people? Marking the beginning of diplomatic relations?"

By the grumpy, gloomy, stern and alltogether unpleasant expression Sten displayed diplomacy was something for whimps.

When diplomacy didn't work there was always corruption. And there Zevran, Leliana and Rori thought I never paid attention!

I carefully looked over my shoulder as if to check on any possible eavesdroppers. Having made sure that nobody could hear us, I beckoned Sten to come closer. I still had to tiptoe to whisper into his ear: "There will be cake."

"Cake?" the Qunari grunted, a greedy gleam sparkling in his eyes.

I nodded. "The tables will sag under the abundance of different cakes."

"Hmph." Despite his inner struggle his expression stayed dispassionate. "The Arishok should hear a report about the consequences of the Blight, too," Sten said slowly after some time.

"Absolutely," I agreed. "As much as I would love to discuss political matters and other important things with you, I have to attend matins," I added, feigning to be in a hurry. "You see, unfortunately there's a rule that only those can have cake who also appeared at matins. It's a religious thing, you know..."

While I dragged Sten to matins - Maker forgive me! But meeting the Grand Cleric without reinforcement was giving me the creeps! - Rori kicked Zevran out of bed.

Literally.

She burst through the door after a sharp and rather short knock and found the Antivan in close proximity to...

"Shianni!? What are you... oh! OH! Maker's Breath! That is... err... uhm..." Rori turned a brighter shade of pink.

"Maker! Look at her!" Shianni laughed. "All flustered and blushing."

Zevran sighed, fending off the exuberant puppy that had entered with his partner in crime. "I take it you have not come to join in or watch?"

"NO!" Rori squeaked.

"Ever since I met you my sex life has ground to a halt," Zevran observed, rolling out of bed resignedly. Rori gasped and tried to look elsewhere. The room was adorned with an incredibly interesting and colourful carpet actually. While she was shifting her weight uncomfortably, Zevran noisily bid Shianni farewell. Rori quickly clapped her hands over her ears. "You Fereldans are so finicky," she heard Zevran remark nonetheless. "Good bye for now, Shianni mi corazón. Duty calls!"

His pants still open, shirt in hands, he followed Rori leading the way towards the park. There Barkspawn and Barkley rolled about on the meadow with Amethyne, while Rori and Zevran sat in the shade of a tree, far away from any eavesdroppers, and talked business. Rori would rather have played with the dogs, Zevran would rather have been in bed with Shianni - alas, you can't always get what you want. I was stuck in matins. I know what I'm talking about.

"As much as I adore you, my lovely Fereldan rose, I do hope you have a good reason for disturbing me," the elf complained. "I've never been much of an admirer of coitus interruptus."

Wondering what in the name of the Maker coitus interruptus was but by now wise enough not to ask, Rori introduced Barkspawn and his explosive nature. "I'm afraid Alistair's foes don't waste any time. We need more information and quickly. There is something brewing." Rori plucked a blade of grass and ripped it to pieces, plucking the next one as soon as she was done.

"Alas, the servants always are the first to ask," the assassin pointed out.

"We don't know anything about their allegiance. Many of them already worked for Anora and Cailan. And they certainly won't talk as openly to me as to each other," Rori sighed. "We've only just ended a Blight! Alistair is not yet crowned and they already begin to undermine his position."

"That doesn't surprise you, does it, my lovely Fereldan rose?" Zevran chuckled. "And there are servants loyal to you and Alistair. Let's just start with asking them, shall we? Amy!" he called, beckoning the girl to join them. Her cheeks blushed, eyes shining and a happy smile adorning her face, Amethyne for once looked like the seven years she was. She slumped down next to Rori and immediately began rummaging through the basket she had brought along when her mistress had told her they were going to spend some time in the park. Within a heartbeat the dogs joined her, greedily begging for food.

"You shall not teach Barkspawn bad manners, Barkley!" Rori scolded when her mabari nudged Amethyne with his huge head and the puppy joined in. "Begging is beneath a mabari!" Barkley woofed in disaproval but behaved - until Amy for a second didn't watch out. That's when he as quick as a wink snatched her sandwich from her hands. The girl could call herself lucky he didn't bite any fingers off, that greedy cur!

"Barkley! Sit!" Rori ordered sternly. Barkley did sit. In her lap. "Maker! You're not a tiny puppy anymore!" his mistress gasped as she was thrown back into the grass by the huge dog. "Get off me! Now!"

"Alas, Amy, my little snowdrop, what do the servants know about the mongrel," Zevran inquired while Rori fought with her dog and the girl fed Barkspawn with roastbeef.

"Caused quite an uproar in the kitchen after a cookmaid discovered the box in the morning," Amy said. "At least until Nan appeared. Nobody dares to talk bad about my lady or his Highness around her."

"No surprise. She'd beat the shit out of them with her rolling pin," Rori remarked with grim satisfaction and rather breathless after her romp with the dog.

"Nan had Soris get the dog out of her kitchen and sent everybody else back to work. There was a lot of gossiping and whispering afterwards when Nan wasn't around. None of them really knew anything about the dog but there's two fractions amongst the servants. Those who still pledge allegiance to Anora and those who side with the new king," Amethyne reported.

"You need to get rid of them," Zevran said. "And our royal friend should hire a food taster."

"You have to be kidding! Alistair would never ever force someone to try his food for poison and risk their lives to protect his."

"Then you better choose your kitchen staff carefully," Zevran dead-panned. "Amy, my lovely snowdrop, we need names."

"You cannot use Amy as a spy!" Rori protested. "It's too dangerous! She's only a kid!"

"Why not? She's perfect. Nobody will pay much attention to a little elven girl. You should train her. She has sass, wits and courage." Amy straightened proudly and beamed at the elf's praise. She also blushed deep crimson. She wasn't much used to anybody telling her she was worth more than street filth. "As I see it, she has splendid carreer prospects." the elf went on. "It would be a waste to only keep her as a handsmaid."

"Oh please, mylady!" Amy clapped her hands giddily, bouncing up and down.

"Oh, alright!" Rori gave in. "Lessons with Zev, Leliana and me for you."

Squeaking girlishly Amy flung herself first at Rori then at the Antivan to hug them tight.

"Alas, Amy cannot be everywhere," Zevran chortled, hugging the child in return. "You need a fly on the wall in every noble estate in this country."

"Papa had his snitches," Rori said thoughtfully. "But things changed during the Blight. Nothing is like it was before. After what happened in Highever I don't know who to trust."

"Then you have to build your own intelligence."

"You're right," Rori sighed. "Alistair won't like this, though."

"Ah, my lovely Fereldan rose, I do know you can be very convincing," Zevran chuckled.

"Indeed," Rori grinned, then added with mischief sparkling in her eyes: "As for the flies, I already know where to start."

Shortly later two hooded figures left the palace and easily merged with the crowd. Really, Rori got all the fun and I was stuck in matins with Sten. He made quite an impression on the Grand Cleric. She waited for me at the entrance of the chapel. Eamon and Teagan and all the other very important people were already there - of course. They would all watch me as I walked through the aisle that suddenly had turned into a gauntlet. By the sour look on Elemena's face she was already preparing to lecture me for being late - again - when her eyes fixed on the giant behind me.

"You do not intend to bring this... sword... into my chapel?" Elemena said strictly, crossing her arms in front of her chest. Sten furrowed his brow and glowered so icily at the Grand Cleric that she took a step backwards.

Mwhahaha!

Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Maker.

I cleared my throat and whispered in the quiet: "Last time he had to part from his sword, he murdered eight people with bare hands."

Suddenly the Grand Cleric had absolutely no problem anymore with Sten or Sten's sword. Or with my lateness. Or with me in general. I somewhat doubt she noticed I was actually there as she kept eyeing Sten all through her sermon and whenever he as much as blinked, she dived behind the altar for cover. In addition someone had told Oghren that they served wine during matins. That someone had possibly forgotten to mention that it was only a tiny sip at the end of the service... Haha!

Anyway, sitting in the first row I was flanked by the Qunari and the dwarf. Matins had never been so spectacular!

I sighed contently, made myself as comfortable on the rather uncomfortable bench as possible - Sten growled menacingly when I tried to rest my head against his shoulder, making the Grand Cleric run for cover again - and closed my eyes. With Oghren already snoring loudly who would pay attention to me? Ahhhh! Nap time!

What? Mean? Who? I?

You have absolutely no idea how this woman reacted when Duncan chose me for the Grey Wardens. The row she and Duncan had back then was truly epic. The things she said about me were far from epic. She would have made Morrigan go green with envy.

In the meantime Zevran and Rori had arrived at the harbour with its narrow alleys and dark drinking holes. The darkspawn had destroyed most of my capital but that part had miraculously escaped the destruction. It only had become darker and filthier.

Their desitnation was a tavern called The Knife-Ear. Above the entrance someone had nailed the skull of an unfortunate and long dead elf to the wall, two rusty daggers at each side of the skull marked the ears.

Charming indeed.

Well-trodden stairs led down into a dark and moist cellar. The taproom was almost empty that early in the morning. Still, the man Rori sought was present, leaning against the bar as he chatted with the innkeeper. He was a tall young and rather chubby fellow with copper hair. By his looks nobody would have guessed he was half-blooded and had grown up in the alienage.

"Slim Couldry!" she greeted the man when he turned at their entry.

"Oh no! What are you doing here!?" the man groaned, hurriedly grabbing her arm and shoving her into the darkest corner of the tavern. Despite her hood he knew exactly who she was. It wasn't the first time they met. "Are you mad coming here!?" he hissed as he pushed Rori to sit on a stool. He chose the bench at the other side of the table, his back safely pressed against the wall. The second hooded figure gracefully sat down on another stool, nonchalantly leaning his back against the table so he could watch the room. He pulled a nasty looking dagger from his boot and began to thoroughly clean his fingernails.

"And you've brought the Antivan! Awesome!" Slim Couldry groaned. "What is this about? You want to kill me?"

"Really, Slim, you'd already be dead by now if I had such things in mind," Rori said sullenly.

"Oh whew! I feel so much better now!" the man exclaimed.

"Let's not waste time. I got business with you," Rori sighed, tired of Slim Couldry's hostility.

"We don't have any business, you and I, Dark Wolf!"

"As far as I recall I got that name because of the business we had," Rori pointed out.

"That was before your paramour became king and you his queen," Slim Couldry hissed in a voice so low it was hardly audible. Sweat formed on his brow as he nervously looked around the room. "I wish I never met you! Now would you please leave me alone! I'm ruined if anybody ever sees us together! Slim Couldry working for the officials! I got a reputation to lose! I don't want anything to do with you anymore! Go away!"

Rori stayed where she was. "Alistair is a good man with a heart of gold. A brave man. He'll make a just king..."

"You saying he's a naive fool and his assassination is only a matter of time," Slim Couldry snorted.

"All the information I got from you, regarding certain... targets, you got insiders inside the noble households. Servants, elves and half-blooded like you," Rori went on, unperturbed by Slim Couldry's unwillingness.

"You want to use them as spies?" he snorted. "Never! You're the establishment now, remember?"

"Alistair is far from being the establishment. He's going to make a change..."

"... if he stays alive that long."

"Exactly. I want you to think about it. A new branch of business. You got the information. I got the coins."

"And what will you do with the information should I be willing to sell it? You could come across some real nasty things, you might be forced to act. Your king doesn't sound as if he could make the decisions he could be forced to make."

"Oh, don't worry, that's what I am here for," Rori said sweetly.

""Growing up in the Alienage you want to believe in something. Something that explains the suffering. I have faith, not everyone does. But I am a good Andrastian, you know, right?" Slim Couldry reminded her.

"I do. And you should know by now I do not walk around and just kill people for fun," Rori cut him short. "Come on, Slim! You're the take-from-the-rich-give-it-to-the-poor type of guy. Didn't you tell me you fight the bastards that oppress your people with the skills the Maker gave you? This is your chance to actually make a change." She was aware that Slim Couldry as useful as he could prove to be could also become dangerous when my way of ruling Ferelden didn't turn out the way he hoped it would. He for sure was not the only one she planned to rely on. For now, however, he was her best option. And her only one. She couldn't pull spies out of a hat.

"Ha! You do remember? You're probably the first noble who has ever listened to me."

"Deal?"

"If I say no you could just have me arrested and tortured until I tell you everything I know," the thief said gloomily.

Rori snorted, arching an eyebrow. "Really?"

"No," Slim Couldry sighed, rubbing his forehead tiredly. "No, you wouldn't do that, right?"

"No, Slim, never."

"For the information I give you, I want more than just your coin. I want you to promise you'll help my people."

"I swear I'll do whatever is in my power. But you need to realize there won't be a huge change, no revolution. It will be tiny steps, changes you might not even notice at once."

"Now you do talk like a noble woman."

"I talk like a realist. You'd rather have me lie to you?"

He regarded Rori's outstretched hand as if it was something slimy. Then, with a heavy sigh, he accepted. "Deal!"

"Thank you, Slim."

"Don't you make me regret this, Dark Wolf!"

"I won't."

"Your word in the Maker's ear!"
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Hoping One Day We'll Make A Dream Last