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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
- 90
- 91
- 92
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Chapter 91
We're late. Partly because of our little conversation with Cauthrien, partly because it takes Rori five minutes to convince Shale that tearing out the wings of the door and throwing them into the hall might indeed make quite an impression but that a less aggressive entry might redound to our advantage.
"Nobles usually don't react well on getting struck dead by a door thrown by a golem," Rori explains when she gently pushes the door open and sneaks into the wide hall crammed with the Fereldan nobility. She's terribly nervous and so am I. Usually I'd take her hand but Eamon would skin us alive if we walked in there holding hands. It's another impression we do not want to give...
"They just can't take a joke," I sigh, patting the disappointed golem's arm. "See, when everything goes wrong you can throw whatever and whoever you want." The vision of Shale grabbing a screaming Loghain and swinging him like a dead cat before she sends him flying through the closed window pops up in my mind... now, that indeed would be something I'd like to see...
The huge hall where the Landsmeet takes place has several rows of benches on both sides of the central stage. It reminds me a bit of the dwarven proving pit in Orzammar and since -according to Rori - a Landsmeet isn't a real Landsmeet without at least one brawl, the whole tense atmosphere feels a lot like the pit, too. Without the merry dwarven families and their fan stuff, without the Hot Nugs and the beer... But there's for sure a whole lot of very loud and very agitated folks here and they are all armed... and it's Rori and me again in the middle of deep shit trouble... Wynne's words, not mine.
Some nobles come here with the mere intention to pick a fight and start one or two blood feuds that then can be used to start some minor wars and attack their neighbours once they're back home in their castles. Everybody needs a hobby, you see...
"Papa took me with him once when I was a child," Rori whispers to me when we slowly push through the assembled crowd - who quickly make room once Shale has absolutely accidentally stepped on some bann's foot - after he called Rori a bitch and me a clown. "Uncle Angus pulled off his boot and hauled it at some bann after he kept complaining about how terribly the Mac Eanraigs stank of fish. And suddenly everybody was hauling their boots and shoes at each other. I hid behind King Maric's throne - with King Maric - and we shared the sugarroasted almonds Papa had bought for me."
It's somewhat strange how everybody and their dog - and Rori - seems to know my father better than I do. I collect more and more details but the picture is long not complete. I've always tried not to think about him too much - and failed miserably. And one thing about becoming king that I both fear and look forward to, is that it closes the distance between my royal father and me... well, not really... but, you know, I've always wondered why he never cared about me, not once talked to me even when he visited Eamon... I made up stories about him, how some evil mage kept him from acknowledging me, how he one day would come to finally take me home... Of course it never happened and I stayed lonely and unwanted. I tried to understand his actions and couldn't. The only conclusion I could come to, it had to be my fault. When I was a child it only made me sad, angry when I grew older... and now here I am, following in his footsteps... Did he feel as insecure and small as I do right now? Did he feel like running away but kept moving forward because that was the only direction he could go?
Eamon's appearance breaks my trail of thought. It also silences the assembled nobility. Just like that. He steps forward and puts his hands onto the balustrade and the discussions and arguments die and everybody just looks at him expectantly... Even the whimpering bann with his broken foot stops his whining. Arl Eamon Guerrin has a certain presence, something that marks him as someone outstanding... Nobody ever falls silent when I want to say something... Most of the time they try to shush me instead... well, not Rori... okay, sometimes she silences me, too... but she has such a nice way to make sure I shut up and it usually ends with her and me making love to each other...
Duh, stop babbling, Alistair! There's the real big players deciding about your future... and Rori's. She's biting her fingernails until Wynne swats at her hands. I'd bite mine if I didn't wear gauntlets.
"My lords and ladies of the Landsmeet," Eamon drones. "Teyrn Loghain would have us give up our freedoms, our traditions out of fear. He placed us on this path, yet we should place our destiny in his hands? Must we sacrifice everything good about our nation to save it?"
There's a tepid applause from the nobles - and standing ovations and loud whistling from the Mac Eanraigs. They are all there, leaning against the balustrade, Bann Angus Mac Eanraig, Aunt Agnes and Uncle Ronan and Rori's cousins James (still wearing a bandage from arm-wrestling Shale), Jessica and Juliana and Tracy. They carry so many weapons with them, they clonk and rattle whenever they as much as blink.
"Hey, Loghain!" James Mac Eanraig yells, lifting his kilt. "Kiss my ass!" While the male Mac Eanraigs follow his example, presenting some more or less hairy hindquarters to anybody who cares to take a look, the female Mac Eanraigs have a facepalm moment. There's a whole lot howling and wolf-whistling and cheering - mostly form the other kilt wearing clans - and a whole lot of indignant murmurs and icy glares - mostly from those who believe themselves to be more sophisticated. James would topple over the railing if not for his sisters grabbing him before he can fall on top of Bann Esmerelle's head... oh, she doesn't look happy. Not at all. Her mouth is a thin line and her icy glare is so cold, she and Anora could have practiced it together.
"Are they... are they drunk?" I whisper to Rori who is waving cheerfully at her relatives - who are waving back with as much enthusiasm.
"During a Landsmeet? Of course."
"Good of them," Oghren grunts. "The only ones here with at least some common sense."
Unperturbed, Loghain steps into the very center of the hall, clapping his hands mockingly. His presence has the same effect as Eamon's and the ruckus quickly calms down. Even the Mac Eanraigs and their fellow Storm Coast clans decide it's not that bad an idea to hear what Loghain has to say. He is as arrogant and self-righteously confident as I recall him... Okay, I only saw him a few times as a child - and was terribly intimidated by him. Then I ran into him like once or twice at Ostagar and there I still thought him to be cool and competent... Loghain was a legend back then and next to goofy Cailan he seemed like the man who should be in charge...
So here we are again, another goofy young man and the ruthless general. Who would you choose to save this nation?
"A fine performance, Eamon, but no one here is taken in by it," Loghain sneers. He wears his shiny armour and is flanked by his guards, strolling through this hall as if it belonged to him. I wish I had one third of his self-confidence... that would probably stop me from hiding behind Shale... she just reaches behind her and shoves me back into the spotlight... And I thought we were friends!
"I am, Loghain! And you wouldn't dare call me no one, would you?" Bann Angus barks, slamming his fists down on the balustrade.
Loghain completely ignores Angus as if he was indeed no one. Instead he keeps addressing Eamon without looking at him. He talks to the whole audience as if he was the spokesman of the Fereldan nobility. "You would attempt to put a puppet on the throne and every soul here knows it."
"That man is smarter than he looks," Morrigan observes.
"Hey!" I pout. This really hurts my manly feelings... okay, I've never done much to prove that I am more than - how did Anora call me? - biddable... I begin to realize that nobody will ever believe me to be anything but an easily manipulated fool if I don't start speaking for myself... It would be so much easier, though, if I didn't put my foot in my mouth whenever I open it. Sometimes it's even both feet... or my whole leg...
"The better question is: Who will pull the strings?" Loghain drones dramatically, leering at his audience as if he hadn't already spotted the culprit. I have to admit, it's quite a show - although the effect isn't that great anymore with James Mac Eanraig making farting noises. Agnes slaps the back of her nephew's head and glowers at her brothers when they both snicker.
"Ah! Here we have the pupeteer!" Loghain shouts, pointing his finger at Rori when she comes forward with me by her side and her companions in tow. Even without throwing doors our entry is remarkable. A dwarf, an elf, two mages - one of them half-naked - a Qunari, a golem. a mabari and a nug - next to them Leliana, Rori and I almost seem dull.
At Loghain's outburst Rori frowns and turns to look over her shoulder to find out who he's actually talking about. Her innocent confusion comes so natural, it would be impossible to feign it. She has only just arrived and she already begins to sweep people off their feet, turning the tables on Loghain without an effort. Trying to mark her as cold, calculating and power hungry so won't work. That's just not the first impression people get when seeing Rori.
"He means you," I care to enlighten her, nudging her side.
"Who? I?" Rori exclaims, wide eyed.
"And I am the puppet," I sigh. "No surprise there."
"Tell us, Warden, how will the Orlesians take our nation from us?" Loghain spits at the petite redhead, completely ignoring my presence. Yeah, act as if I wasn't there! I'm just the claimant of the throne, it's not that I got anything to say here.
"You should address her correctly, Loghain. She is Teyrna Rori Cousland of Highever!" Leonas Bryland shouts and the cheering, the applause and stomped feet turn Loghain's expression from grim to super-über-grim. Rori just inclines her head, managing to appear both humble and grand at the very same time - but I so know that she's grinning from ear to ear behind that curtain of red curls that hides her face.
"How will the Orlesians take Ferelden from us?" Loghain repeats when the uproar has died down - thanks to Rori lifting her hand in a gesture asking for silence. I have to bite my lips to stop myself from poking out my tongue at Mac Tir. "Will they deign to send their troops, or simply issue their commands through this would-be-prince?"
Rori and I exchange one look and she taps her index finger to her forehead, indicating that Loghain has to be completely nuts. Some nobles groan... The Orlesian threat is clearly Loghain's most favourite topic.
"Oh, I wouldn't be too worried. I don't talk Orlesian," I laugh, deciding that I don't like being called a would-be-prince by someone who still looks west when there's a horde approaching from the south. Loghain should have some serious talk with Sten. The Qunari would certainly point him into the right direction. "That makes issuing commands through me much more difficult."
Loghain is the most humourless person I have ever seen in my whole life. While some nobles snicker and some roll their eyes and some whisper 'Just like Maric!' - the teyrn scowls at me and then again decides I'm not worth being acknowledged, turning his attention back to Rori. He towers over her now she's standing in front of him and it is pretty hard to believe that this cute young girl with her large blue eyes and all those tiny freckles adorning her heartshaped face is a treacherous mastermind. A puppet herself, yeah, that's what some could believe her to be - at least until Rori teaches them wrong... which probably will happen soon considering the way she grits her teeth.
"What did they offer you? How much is the price of Fereldan honour now?" Loghain barks at her.
"Orlesians?" Rori echoes, making this single word sound as if she was severly and honestly worried about Loghain's sanity. Leliana behind me sighs in delight. Ever since we arrived at Eamon's estate the bard has been trying to teach Rori some tricks - only to witness how her fellow ginger completely failed when confronting Anora. Unable to rein in her temper, she had the bard despair. "Why in the name of the Maker are you talking about Orlesians?" Rori frowns at Loghain. Her voice rings like a bell, clear and strong and yet it's young and innocent without the acid that Loghain pours over her with words. "As long as Orlesians nowadays don't disguise as darkspawn - and I admit you never know with their latest fashion -, I dare say we can forget about them for now... We have a Blight going on, tons of darkspawn, an archdemon... The darkspawn is the real threat, not Orlais. If we don't unite to fight the hordes, there will be nothing left of Ferelden for Orlais to invade."
Leliana almost squeals and only with some effort manages to turn it into a cough. Zevran gives thumbs up and winks at me. Wynne is utterly pleased about seeing Loghain picked apart. Her expression shows grim satisfaction while Sten sighs and rolls his eyes. For the Qunari this is all a waste of time. Oghren has vanished - and it takes me some time to find him again amongst the Mac Eanraigs as only the top of his head is visible over the balustrade.
"There are enough refugees in my bannorn by now to make that abundandly clear," Bann Alfstanna remarks. "I really wonder why we waste time with talking about Orlais here!"
"The south is fallen," Arl Wulff declares. He is an old man who had to see his son die, taken by the darkspawn while Loghain fought the ghosts of his past. "Loghain! Will you let darkspawn take the whole country for fear of Orlais."
Rori vs. Loghain, 1:0.
"The Blight is indeed real, Wulff," Loghain admits, trying to turn his defeat into a victory. "But do we need Grey Wardens to fight it?"
Teyrn Loghain Mac Tir really can't stand the Grey Wardens. I really wonder why? What did we do to him? It's probably something about Orlais. With Loghain it's always something about Orlais...
"They claim that they alone can end the Blight, yet they failed spectacularily against the darkspawn at Ostagar, and they ask to bring with them four legions of chevaliers," Loghain shouts, lifting his chin triumphantly. He doesn't even notice this doesn't earn him any bonus points. "And once we open our borders to the Chevaliers, can we really expect them to simply return to whence they came?"
"Never flog a dead horse," Wynne mutters with glee while the teyrn keeps digging his own grave with his stubborn insistence. And there I thought myself to be the only one capable of digging a verbal hole and fall in.
"We do not have any chevaliers following us, but - while you sold Fereldan citizens into slavery to fund your war - we gained the alliance of Orzammar, Kinloch Hold and the Dalish to defend Ferelden," Rori cuts me short, when I open my mouth to exactly tell Loghain who I believe to be a spectacular failure. I don't understand why Rori doesn't defend Duncan and our dead brothers in arms, why she doesn't point at Loghain and calls him a kingslayer. Instead she ignores the accusation but changes the topic as if Ostagar has never happened. I try to draw her attention to me, blinking, wiggling my eyebrows, twitching the corners of my mouth - and she just looks at me as if everything was totally fine. Okay, actually she very much looks as if she was trying to bite back a laugh rather unsuccessfully.
"Stop that," she mouthes, then hands the documents we found with the slavers to Grand Cleric Elemena who identifies the proof as authentic.
"What's this?" Bann Sighard barks. "There is no slavery in Ferelden! Explain yourself!"
Proving Loghain was involved in selling elves into slavery causes an uproar amongst the nobles that has everybody forget about Ostagar. Eamon warned us to use Ostagar and Cailan's death as an argument. He said, we could never win it. There is no way to prove what really happened, different versions of the story circulated for too long. He said, we should stick to the things we can prove, and that's what Rori does, avoiding the topic. Clever little beast!
"There is no saving the Alienage," Loghain does explain himself - and this does not earn him any favour with the nobles. They might be elves but they are Fereldan elves living in Fereldan dirt. You can't just sell them away to live in Tevinter dirt! "There is no chance of holding it if the Blight comes here." Loghain doesn't seem happy about that decision - and still he made it. As far as we know, he didn't even consider a different approach to solve the problem. Even before Ostagar he tried to cut Cailan off any influence he identified as Orlesian, murdering the Couslands with Howe's help, poisoning Eamon. Without him, we wouldn't be here and had to deal with this mess only he created...
"Despite what you may think, Warden..." Loghain turns to face Rori.
"Teyrna Rori Cousland!" Agnes Mac Eanraig shouts and there's another outburst of cheers and applause.
"... I have done my duty. Whatever my regrets may be for the elves, I have done what was needed for the good of Ferelden," Loghain stubbornly finishes once he can make himself audible again.
"Did you also let Howe torture citizens for the good of Ferelden?" Rori retorts so quickly, it's as if she slapped Loghain in the face.
Yay! Go, Gingersnaps, go!
"Teyrna Rori speaks truly. My son was taken under the cover of night. The things Howe did to him... some are beyond any healer's skill," Bann Sighard calls out, his voice trembling with sorrow and anger.
Howe also kidnapped little children to influence their parents' decision at the Landsmeet. But it's like Rori foresaw, Loghain has gotten rid of Howe before he could turn into a problem, so his answer shouldn't surprise me. It still makes me freaking angry.
"Howe was a grown man, responsible for his own actions," Loghain begins but that has Angus Mac Eanraig jump off his seat and slam his axe down on the balustrade in front of him.
"Howe murdered my sister Teyrna Eleanor Cousland and her whole family!" Angus roars. "Well, not Rori," he adds with an uncle's pride. He smiles broadly at her and gives her thumbs up. Then his expression becomes grim again. "And you, Loghain, declared that bastard Teyrn of Highever and Arl of Denerim!"
"That's unfair! I am Arl of Denerim!" Vaughan Kendells whines. "Howe betrayed me like he betrayed the Couslands!"
"Just you are still alive," Angus Mac Eanraig observes gloomily, regarding Vaughan as if he came across a fat rat poking its head out of its hole.
"Howe will answer to the Maker for his crimes, as must we all," Loghain tries to end the discussion.
"You allied with this murderous bastard!" Angus bellows, his face as bright red as a tomato while he tries to pull his axe free from the ballustrade.
"Teyrn Cousland and his wife and family were traitors," Loghain shouts unnervedly. "This woman here..." He points at Rori. "... is not a teyrna but the murderer of Rendon Howe..."
"Howe was a coward," Leonas Bryland cuts Loghain short. "He was a greedy little rat who would have never turned against the Couslands without making sure he got rewarded for it. So whatever you want to tell us, Loghain, those who knew Howe and knew the Couslands will never buy your story about Rendon Howe getting this idea all on his own and of Bryce and Eleanor being traitors." He glowers at Loghain with disgust. Only the Mac Eanraigs look gloomier.
"Whatever Howe may have done, he should have been brought before the seneschal," Loghain insists. "There is no justice in butchering a man in his home..."
Big mistake.
Mighty big mistake.
My hand comes down on Rori's shoulder same time as Zevran grabs her arm. I can feel the shiver that runs through her and the following tension. Loghain's words are mocking her and the tragedy she had to witness when Howe came to her father's house to butcher him and her whole family. For me it's just one more reason to wish for wiping that sneer off his face with my blade.
Meanwhile it takes several men to stop Angus from lunging himself at Loghain. It's as if they were trying to wrestle down a bear.
When Rori looks up and puts her hand on mine, she smiles a smile that chills me to the bone. Then she says with the sweetest voice: "No? Then why did you send a blood mage to poison Arl Eamon?"
How she manages to make her voice sound over all this noise, is beyond me. But her words have an immediate effect, even on Uncle Angus who freezes in the process of hauling poor Leonas Bryland over the balustrade. He straightens, pulls his buddy Bryland back to his feet and promises to buy him a beer or two.
"I assure you, Warden...
"Teyrna Rori Cousland!" the Mac Eanraig triplets shout in unison. It follows the same procedure as every time Loghain refuses to address Rori with her title. Not that she would insist. But here at the Landsmeet it certainly doesn't hurt that she is the daughter of the most powerful man next to the king, a man who many wished to be king instead of Cailan. Even dead Bryce Cousland is still a threat.
"... if I were going to send someone, it would be my own soldiers. I would not trust to the discretion of an apostate," Loghain arrogantly lectures Rori.
Whoa! That bastard is such a blunt liar! And he doesn't even blush. Just looks Rori in the face and lies when he knows she knows and I know, too, and there's Zevran standing right there, another assassin he hired.
"Indeed!" Bann Alfstanna exclaims, her voice hardly hiding the contempt she feels for Loghain. "My brother tells a very different tale. He says you snatched a blood mage from the Chantry's justice. Coincidence?"
"Do not think the Chantry will overlook this, Teyrn Loghain! Interference in a templar's sacred duties is an offense against the Maker!" the Grand Cleric declares. Boy, she looks pissed off! I've seen her that pissed off before when Duncan used the Right of Conscription on me, and I can assure you she considers to excommunicate Loghain right here and now.
When her eyes wander from Loghain to Rori, the redhead grins sheepishly. She after all has recruited the very blood mage we are talking about for the Grey Wardens. I doubt the Grand Cleric would give her that small nod if she knew how Jowan and Solona happily experiment with darkspawn at Warden's Peak. And that doesn't even include Avernus. If the Grand Cleric knew anything about him, she'd sent an army of templars to blow up Warden's Peak and drag us all off to Aeonar.
Then the Grand Cleric for the first time cares to look at me and she despairs. She looks back at Loghain, then at me, and the way her lips move she's silently praying to the Maker.
Did I mention I sucked as a templar? I sucked so much, that they wouldn't let me take part in the tourney held in the honour of the Grey Wardens. I only fought there because Duncan insisted. The Grand Cleric probably thought I would pull my smallclothes over my head and cluck like a chicken, flapping my arms as wings if she let me appear in front of the guest of honour... To be fair, I've actually really done this before... the chicken and smallclothes thing. Not at the tourney of course but back at the Chantry. Being a templar was just so incredibly boring... Anyway, here I am now, and she certainly wished for Loghain to win until now. I am a disgrace - but at least I don't ally with blood mages... Well, as far as she knows...
"Howe's death still was murder..." Loghain tries once more and earns himself some Boos! Blood feuds are still a big thing amongst Fereldan nobles, despite the monarchs ever since Calenhad trying to make them behave. Loghain really should know that. He just earned Rori the respect of her fellow nobles. If your family gets slaughtered by a rat-faced bastard, you go and make him pay. You do not run to your king and have him solve your problems... That admittedly makes being the leader of the Fereldan nobility a whole lot of more difficult because they just do whatever they want to do and expect their king/queen to mind their own business. That, however, doesn't stop them from blaming the king/queen when whatever they want to do goes terribly wrong. At least that's Rori's resumé of Fereldan politics.
Or as Leonas Bryland puts it: "And as for Howe's death... good of you, girl! That he didn't die years ago is the only thing worth mourning here."
"Enough of this! Whatever I have done, I will answer to it later," Loghain snaps with that pained look on his face... Maker! He just got scolded by the Grand Cleric in front of the whole nobility of Ferelden. I know how that feels, being scolded by that woman... It happened to me whenever I crossed her path. In the end I was told over and over again, they'd send me off to Anderfels as soon as possible just to get rid of me. It has to feel like a very bad joke to the Grand Cleric that I'm here now, claiming the throne.
Yeah, the Maker moves in mysterious ways...
"I have a question for you, Warden!" Loghain turns to Rori, squinting his eyes at her.
"Teyrna Rori Cousland!" Bann Alfstanna shouts.
By now the Teyrn of Gwaren is rather unnerved by the fact that the nobility is so insubordinate. I doubt, he thought this to be easy or he wouldn't have made the effort of trying to murder us over and over again. But he certainly didn't expect that much hostility and disrespect. I almost feel sorry for him... okay, no, I don't. It's more likely that... that I sleep with Morrigan... than feeling sorry for Loghain... Eww! We all know that will never ever happen. The mere thought... bah! It makes me shudder...
"What have you done with my daughter?" Loghain demands to know.
"What have you done with her that she came running to me?" Rori retorts but she sounds wary. Anora's disappearance means we do not know where she is while we know she is absolutely capable of absolutely everything. Not the best combination.
"You took my daughter - our queen - by force, killing her guards in the process," Loghain shouts at Rori, casting a look at the lords and ladies but right now most of them appear unwilling to believe a single thing Loghain says.
Rori and I exchange a look and roll our eyes. It is astonishing over and over again how the Mac Tirs twist the truth for their own benefit and manage to sound so self-righteously indignant,
"What arts have you employed to keep her..." Loghain goes on.
Rori grins sheepishly, obviously thinking of the bricked up door...
"Does she even still live?" Loghain asks and it's all the big worried-father-act. He is so false, even Morrigan appears sweet and cuddly compared to him.
"I believe I can speak for myself."
Groaning Rori turns to the sound of Anora's voice. As the queen enters the hall, her gaze sweeps over the younger woman and over me and there's nothing but coldness in there. She's perfectly beautiful, graceful and majestic... and yet she lacks any warmth. She's just a female version of Loghain - although she looks a lot like her mother. Would be better for us if it was the other way round.
"Blast! We should have kept that door bricked up," Rori mutters under her breath.
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In good times and in bad