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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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"Lords and ladies of Ferelden, hear me!" Anora calls out in her clear voice. A glorious grace surrounds her. Rori appears cute and impish next to her, like a clumsy puppy next to a proud mabari bitch. Anora for sure looks like a queen but she doesn't have the heart of a queen.
Sure of her audience Anora goes on once the surprised murmurs have faded. "This Warden..." She points at Rori. "... has slandered and defamed Ferelden's greatest hero in a bid to put an imposter on Maric's throne..."
"Teyrna! Bloody blast it!" Angus Mac Eanraig barks, his voice clearly audible over the cries of disbelief and the insults hauled at us. I catch Rori slightly nodding at Leliana and then our companions start moving in my back. It's nothing anybody would notice but I've fought with all of them for so long to realize, Rori is preparing our exit in case all this goes terribly wrong. One look at the Mac Eanraigs and it becomes obvious that Oghren is up there not only for the ale but for instructing them, too.
Can't blame Rori for taking percautions. The way Anora regards us, is quite alarming. She's colder than a glacier in the Frostback Mountains.
Loghain's expression changes from gloomy to triumphant. Maker! I wish for nothing more than to punch him in the face right now.
"Imposter? Is it only me who recalls her saying Cailan knew about his little brother?" I grumble under my breath. Even I can see what she's aiming at. Tell them, I'm not Maric's son, plant the seed of doubt and hope it will blossom within the next five minutes. "What is wrong with the Mac Tirs? They lie and betray and assassin whoever stands in their way and still act as if we are the criminals here!"
"Ferelden's greatest hero tried to kill you!" Rori exclaims totally flabbergasted. I guess, she expected Anora to cause trouble but not to side with her father.
"Did he? Are you certain of that?" Anora retorts coolly. She's so sure of herself, nothing about her behaviour gives away that she is lying her head off.
"Well, that's what you told me. If anybody has issues with being certain, then it's obviously you," Rori snorts, arms akimbo.
"I know my father. He would never do less than his utmost for the sake of this country" Anora says matter-of-factly. "But I needed to know your mind."
"Ohh, I see, so all this rescue the damsel in distress was a test?" I laugh, so not amused. "Charming."
"You could have proven yourself an ally for Ferelden, Rori Cousland," Anora continues, ignoring me. It's as if I wasn't existent unless they feel like insulting me. "It is unfortunate for all of us, that you did not."
Rori heaves a sigh that is pure frustration. With obvious dismay she shakes her head when Shale offers to crush some skulls. "Anora, you and your father seem to have major issues in distinguishing between allies for Ferelden and allies for the Mac Tirs," Rori says, sounding calmer than she is. "And although you might believe that's the same: It is not. Stubbornly insisting on your way being the only possible one, has brought us here and has led your father to committ all these crimes against the people of Ferelden."
Before Rori can say more, Loghain shoves her aside, spreading his arms as he speaks. He radiates aggression and self-confidence. It's in his stance, his voice, his expression. His glare dares anybody who looks him in the eyes to challenge him. Most avoid it - but not Rori. She defiantly stares back.
"Who here can say that Anora is not fit to rule this land..." Loghain shouts.
Rori raises her hand, so do I, the rest of our party and all the Mac Eanraigs.
"And who can say that this Alistair is?"
All raised hands - save Morrigan's - stay raised - even mine because Rori stomps on my foot when I begin to lower it.
"It's actually Prince Alistair, Loghain," Leonas Bryland chooses to correct Ferelden's greatest hero.
"We know nothing of him save that he may have royal blood." Loghain points out. "For five years, Anora has been queen and proven herself worthy of the Theirin name." With a dramatic gesture Loghain turns to point at his daughter. "She can lead our people through this crisis..."
"Excuse me, but when she's so capable of leading, then why didn't you let her lead? Or did she give her consent to all those things you did?" Bann Alfstanna demands to know.
"...and I can lead her armies," Loghain goes on. James Mac Eanraig turns to lift his kilt again and I begin to regard a kilt as a really useful garment.
"Last time I saw him lead an army, he lead it away from the battlefield and left us all there to die, including poor Cailan," Wynne hisses audible for everybody who cares to listen.
Loghain meanwhile paces the hall, his voice sounds strong and grim with an unwavering determination. "My lords and ladies, we Fereldans have proven that we will never really be conquered as long as we united. We must not let ourselves be divided now." He punches his fist at his palm. "Stand with me and we shall even defeat the Blight itself."
With his head held high, Loghain stands there, his daughter backing him up. There's certainty in their stance. The message is clear: With the Mac Tirs in charge, the victory is ours!
"You ask for an alliance when it was you who tore this nation apart with an unnecessary civil war," Rori raises her voice as soon as Loghain falls silent. "You were fighting foes where there weren't any and completely misunderstood the evil we have to deal with. Ferelden doesn't need a ruler who is caught in the past. It needs a man who can lead it into the future."
Her words earn her a thunderous applause. The Mac Eanraigs and Oghren shout "ROOOOARI! ROOOOARI!" before lunging into the Proving Ground battle chant: "Come on Rooooari kick some ass!"
"You know," I tease, nudging her side. "They should better make you queen and instead of putting a puppet king on the throne directly aim for the puppeteer... Hey! Don't panic!" I laugh. "Attention please, It's election time..."
"South Reach stands with the Grey Wardens. I trust in Rori Cousland and Alistair Theirin," Leonas Bryland declares.
"Waking Seas stands with the Grey Wardens!" Bann Alfstanna calls out and Bann Sighard follows suit.
"Rori, Alistair, you kick the blasted darkspawn asses back to where they came from!" Angus Mac Eanraig roars.
"Denerim will follow the Wardens," Vaughan Kendells shouts. Maker! Even this sadistic prick keeps his promise to support us! Blast! Somehow I was still hoping, Anora would magically change into a nice and honourable person and I could just step back like a gentleman and let the lady have her kingdom... Should be queendom then, shouldn't it? I really don't necessarily want it, but, Maker, I cannot let Eamon down now - and Ferelden - because this nation certainly deserves better than being ruled by this... bitch and her tyrant father! I mean, I'm a fool but Eamon isn't and Rori isn't... but will she still be there? I can't imagine she will be delighted to hear about the heir problem and what it means for us...
Oh blast it!
I start praying for Maric making an appearance right now. He's only missing, so this really would be a damn good time for a return, right?
But of course Maric doesn't march in and punch Loghain in the face, call me Son and I call him Dad... Nope, nothing like that... Seems I have for once get this done all by myself...
Western Hills and Redcliffe pro. Amarenthine and Bann Ceorlic contra... More and more nobles vote and it becomes obvious that Rori has rocked this show. She unites Ferelden. She could have won without me and my Theirin blood if necessary.
I'm not that stupid to believe they voted for me. It's Rori they support, her name that opens doors and buys us the trust of the Fereldan nobility. Loghain was right about that, they do not know me, but they know Rori... or at least they know her family. Bryland told me, Bryce Cousland was considering giving the teyrnir to Rori instead of Fergus. Despite her being feisty and stubborn - especially when confronted with a possible groom - Bryce saw what she could become when growing up. He and Eleanor prepared her for that day, despite her resistance. And Maker, they did a damn good job!
If anybody cared to ask for my opinion, that's where Loghain made his biggest mistake in this argument. I might be a puppet but as long as Rori is the puppeteer, nobody gives a damn. Anora herself said that everybody here knows that she ruled instead of Cailan, so why should they care with Rori and me?
Just how am I going to get all this done without her... She wouldn't stay, would she?
Maker! This drives me crazy. I don't know what to do, what to want... well, I want Rori... but who am I to put myself first when there's a whole nation depending on me... Did I just think that? Ohhhh, now I feel sick...
The Mac Eanraigs already open the barrels of ale they've been sitting on. I wish they would hand me a mug - or a whole barrel because I so do need a drink. Rori won the damn Landsmeet... I feel so dizzy... There's cheering and shouts, James starts to blow air into his bagpipe, Angus bearhugs Arl Bryland... The only ones absolutely not looking happy are Loghain and Anora. No surprise there...
But if you now think that everything is fine and they lived happily ever after, then you haven't yet understood that the Mac Tirs so totally can't accept an opinion that is not their own. Loghain starts to insult the nobility of Ferelden as traitors and idiots. Of course he's the only one here with some common sense and the only one who knows how to make things right.
While he still rants, his loyal soldiers close in on the nobles. Blast! Does he really want to start a fight in here? Kill all those who don't follow like lemmings? The tension within the hall rises, weapons are drawn, there's shouts and cries of alarm...
"Can someone please make that sodding bastard shut the fuck up, bloody blast it!" Angus Mac Eanraig roars, pulling his axe free from the balustrade as he turns to meet one of the soldiers in his back.
I make a step forward since I've been long waiting for shuting this self-righteous bastard up. I'm gonna stuff his mouth with my fist and... that's when Rori suddenly is in my way, face to face with Loghain, head held high and that expression on her face that Howe called the Cousland stare.
"Call off your men and we'll settle this honourably," she says, calmly, almost softly. When she starts talking to me like that, I know I'm in for some trouble and we're going to have a fight about me using her toothbrush to clean my chainmail or just dropping my stinking socks anywhere inside our tent or piling up my muddy clothes on her clean ones... Better not get her any more riled up then.
Loghain, however, picks a fight with her. I would have expected him to refuse, but there still seems some last bits of honour left inside of him. He looks sad, almost broken. "When we met at Ostagar, I would never have thought it would end like this. But Ostagar seems like it happened in another lifetime, to someone else."
"It is still very close for me," I mutter mournfully in the deathly quiet that followed Rori's challenge. Rori and Wynne solmenly nod in agreement. "We returned there, you know. It was a graveyard. We found Cailan, saw what the darkspawn did to him... He didn't deserve to die like this. Neither did Duncan. At least Cailan can now rest in peace."
Loghain's stare bores into me. It's the first time he really acknowledges my presence. Until now he has talked about me as if I wasn't there, like people do with little children. But now, he really sees me and his expression changes but only for a moment so brief, I wonder if I was hallucinating.
When Loghain speaks again, he addresses Rori, ignoring me like always. "Will you face me yourself or have you a champion?"
Rori turns to me same time as I step forward. Maker! I have waited for this moment for so long! She has to let me fight! "Alistair," Rori says. "Alistair is my champion - and his own. It is his fight as he is the rightful heir to the throne."
"Then let us test the mettle of our would be king," Loghain sneers. A sneer I am so going to wipe off his face. Never in my life have I been more certain of myself than right now. There's a confidence in me so strong and alien. Loghain will not win this fight. He will not survive this fight. "Prepare yourself!" the general barks.
"Let's not waste any more time with talking then," I growl, approaching him.
That's when Rori calls: "Wait!" She looks pale, worried... frightened, her eyes dark pools of concern.
"What is it now?" Loghain snaps.
Without paying any attention to him, Rori hugs me tight. Wraps her arms around my neck and presses herself to me as close as my armour allows her. I can feel nothing of her, the armour prevents it - but her tension is obvious. The Mac Eanraigs all go AWWWWWW! while Eamon has a facepalm moment. We actually agreed on not letting anybody know how Rori and I feel for each other. Still, I'm glad she hugged me... and a bit huffed. "Hey! You could at least have some confidence in me," I sulk.
"I do have confidence," Rori pouts. "As much as you had in me when I had to fight all alone in the Proving Ground."
"Ahhh... touché!" I laugh, nuzzling her nose before letting go of her. "Now, be a good girl and let me get this done, yes?"
I turn to Loghain and the smile for Rori is wiped of my face, making place for an expression of stern determination... at least I do hope that's what I look like. Grim, dangerous, manly - with that frown and my eyes squinted and my jaws set tight. Fear is not existent at this moment. All worries about mine and Rori's future, all grief and sorrow, it's replaced by a chilly fury, a cold and calculating resoluteness. Everything around me fades. This is only Loghain and me.
We circle each other, eyes locked. I am tense and cool at the same time. I flex my fingers without reaching for my weapon - formerly my father's. It's Loghain to draw his sword first, a frown on his face as he crouches low, carefully waiting for the right moment to charge.
The moment he makes one step forward, I pull Maric's dragonbone blade with the dim glowing blue runes from its sheath... At it's sight Loghain tumbles one step backward, recognition and regret crossing his features - then, with a battle cry, he lunges himself at me...
Loghain is a tough nut to crack. He is old but experienced, one of the best fighters of Ferelden ever. He can land a few sharp and strong blows I can hardly block with my shield or sword, forcing me to retreat. He jumps after me, gasping in surprise when I step out of the way sideways and it's mere luck that he raises his blade in time to meet mine.
Maker! Aint't I lucky that Rori managed to persuade Cauthrien to leave us alone? I'm not sure I could make it through if I had already been exhausted or wounded by another fight. Loghain's sword soars past my defense and I can feel blood tickling down my thigh. Nothing bad, but it slows me down. I am still faster and more dexterous than my opponent. He's panting by now, sweat is pouring down his forehead, dripping into his eyes, blinding him. His movements become clumsy and the sword seems too heavy for him... I double my efforts to force him down, having my blows drum down on him with as much strength and speed as I can manage, whooping the proud general with my attack.
Loghain stumbles backwards when my sword hits his arm. He drops his sword same time as he drops to his knees.
The Landsmeet is cast in deathly silence as I tower over him. It's so tempting to just kick him into the dirt now, to humiliate him. I'm furious enough for sure. Inhaling deeply I retreat step by step, hardly listening when the Grand Cleric declares me the victor of this fight. I cannot make myself helping Loghain back to his feet. Strangely that makes me feel like an ass.
Anora hurries to her father's side, but he swats her hands away when she tries to help him and scrambles back to his feet alone. "So," he breathes, turning to face me. "There is some of Maric in you after all. Good."
For a moment I just stare at him. What!? I mean, what does he expect me to do now? Pat his back and go 'No hard feelings!'? I... I can't do that. Too much has happened, too much has been destroyed, so many have died. I look at him and I see the murderer of Duncan. Of my brothers in arms. Of Cailan. I see the man who plotted the death of Rori's family. Who poisoned Eamon. The man who sold elves into slavery, imprisoned and tortured those who objected him. I see the man who countless times tried to have Rori and me assassinated...
Anora stands between us, as if she was trying to shield her father from me. Or as if she was trying to build a bridge. It doesn't make a difference. Not to me. Not now. Maybe if she had not betrayed us... if he had shown any regret... or maybe not...
"Forget Maric!" I spit. "This is for Duncan!"
"Father!" Anora gasps and turns to look at me... I've never seen her like that... she is silently pleading me, pleading Rori...
"Hush! It's over!" Loghain murmurs.
"Stop treating me like a child! This is serious!" Anora snaps, sounding desperate.
"Daughters never grow up, Anora," Loghain says softly. "They remain six years old with pigtails and skinned knees forever."
"Father..." Anora cries, covering her face with her hands.
I am so cold inside, cold and angry and driven by venegance. I am unable to react to Anora's grief. It's as if I was frozen. One look at Rori... she's so pale, torn by her own emotions... When she looks at Anora, I can see her crumble inside. This has to remind her of another goodbye said by a daughter to her mother and father a long time ago at Highever. Meeting my eyes, she slowly nods her agreement.
I have never before killed a man like this. This is not a fight. It is an execution. Loghain is helpless. He is defeated. It feels awful, really, it does - and yet, it is what I must do. The sound of metal scraping against metal when I draw Maric's sword, the horror on Loghain's face that he tries not to let show...
I raise the blade... Maker! Has it always been that heavy? Nothing has ever felt so right and wrong at the same time... Out of the corner of my eyes, I notice Riordan hastily approaching us. Is he trying to stop me? Too late... The dragonbone slides through flesh and bones and cuts Loghain's head off his body.
Blood is splattered all over Anora and she lifts her arms to protect her face, turning away from the scene.
Loghain's head bounces down the hall like a ball and only comes to a rest at the steps of the dais in front of the throne. His dead eyes stare as if he still didn't understand how all this could go so terribly wrong. All the while his body is still standing there like rooted to the ground and only collapses when the head comes to a rest.
Merciful Andraste!
The moment he drops down, Anora is at his side, kneeling in the puddle of blood that forms around his neck. Gasps and shouts from shocked nobles, gathering around the corpse and blocking it from my view, echo through the hall. None of them offers Anora a word or gesture of comfort. She's all alone.
"Alistair?"
"Huh?" I only notice how badly I tremble when Rori gently pries my fingers from the hilt of my sword.
"It's over," she says softly.
"I feel... terrible," I whisper hoarsely.
"I know." She pulls a handkerchief with my name stiched across it from her pocket and begins to wipe my face clean as if I was a child.
"But... he deserved it! This man abandoned our brothers and then blamed us for the deed. He hunted us down like animals... shouldn't I feel better now? They say revenge is sweet..." It is not. I mean, this was for Duncan, and that's good... but it's not sweet. Bittersweet, yes. There's a grim satisfaction, yet I am ashamed by Anora's tears... What did I do, killing her father right in front of her eyes? Maker, I really do feel sorry for her.
Rori takes my face in both of her hands and gently kisses my forehead. She's my sanctuary - and I am about to lose her.
"So it is decided. Alistair will take his father's throne," Eamon declares once Loghain's corpse got carried away.
Doom!
DOOM!
"Wait? What? No, when did this get decided? Nobody has decided that!" I exclaim, adding "Have they?" in a hushed and rather timid whisper directed at Rori - who only shrugs in reply and appears as lost as I am. Very helpful indeed! If she knew... if she had the slightest clue about what that means for her and me...
"He refuses the throne!" Anora's voice rings. "Everyone here has heard him. I think it's clear then: He abdicates in favour of me."
Wow. My knees still are like pudding and I feel much like everything has been turned upside down... and she, shortly after having cried over her father's body, is able to snatch any opportunity given to ensure she stays in power. That's... tough. If I hadn't witnessed her emotional breakdown I'd say she's made of ice. So I just stand there and gawk at her slack-jawed.
"I hardly think you are the appropriate person to mediate this Anora," Eamon lectures her. "Lady Rori, will you help us?"
"She's biased! We've all seen how she hugged him!" Anora shouts. "It's pretty clear what decision she will make. With Alistair she'll put a puppet on the throne..."
"Wouldn't be the first king with a woman ruling for him, would it, Anora?" Arl Leonas asks unnervedly. I take it, it's a rethorical question. "Let Bryce's daughter decide!"
"I am sure Lady Rori only wishes for the best of Ferelden," Eamon adds, turning to a rather flabbergasted and stammering Rori. "The future of this kingdom is in your hands."
I don't want to walk in her shoes now. And she has no idea that it's not only the kingdom's but also her future. Blast! I should have told her about my talk with Eamon. Now it is too late.
Noticing everybody expectantly waits for her decision, Rori uneasily runs her fingers through her hair. "Err... I think I should talk to Anora and Alistair... Aehm, Anora, what makes you a better choice than Alistair?"
"Surely that's not a serious question," Anora snorts.
"Do you hear me laughing?" Rori retorts.
"I have been the ruler of this nation in all but name for the last five years. I can lead Ferelden. Alistair can't."
Her reason? That with me ruling, the civil war won't stop but go on until a new dynasty holds power - so why not start a new one right away with her?
"Alistair?" Rori turns to me after Anora has finished blaming me to be a brainless fool who couldn't even herd a flock of sheep without the help of a dozen advisors. Okay, that's not exactly what she said. But it's quite an apt summary.
"Strange," I chuckle without any humour. "I feel like back at the abbey, trying not to get chosen last for the sparring teams."
"What should I do?" Rori asks me, sounding as desperate and lost as I feel.
Okay. This is it. I can either run away for the rest of my life - but run with Rori - or I for once prove I got a spine and actually make use of it. Maker preserve me! This is the hardest decision I ever had to make...
"Make me king. Anora isn't an option" Whoa! Did I just say that? That deep rumbling, confident and manly voice... was it mine? I mean, Rori knows and I know that Anora indeed isn't an option. Not when we actually care for Ferelden. And that's what we are here for, right? Not for our own selfish desires but for being the heroes Duncan believed us to be when he chose us to join the ranks of the Grey Wardens. He said, Grey Wardens do whatever is necessary to end the Blight. I don't believe that Anora is capable of dealing with an archdemon - not after she sided with her father to support his suicidal plans - suicidal for a whole nation. Maker, I do hope, Rori will understand...
"You... you seem so certain...," Rori whispers meekly.
"Shouldn't I be? You're the one who convinced me to stand up for myself. I can do this." I retort, fighting with the urge to turn this all into a joke. That I have to look Rori in the eyes while I force us apart without her even knowing what is happening, without giving her the chance to do anything about it...
"But... what makes you a better choice than Anora?"
Surely that's not a serious question?
"I may not know politics the way she does, but I know what needs to be done. I can get our armies marching toward the Blight." And hey, that's the first thing we have to get done now instead of wetting our pants because of civil wars that could or could not take place sometime in the future. A future we won't have if we don't manage to stop the archdemon. "She's already betrayed us twice. Who knows if she'd even truly help us now? She could have us banished as soon as you hand her the crown."
"So... you're ready to be king?" I really wish Rori wouldn't sound as surprised as she does. It was her who put me through a blasted campaign and kept telling me how awesome a king I could be.
"As ready as anyone ever is, I suppose." Doesn't sound convincing, does it? Just say yes, Alistair! "Which is to say yes - I'm ready."
Rori nods slowly. She doesn't look happy. Not at all. Straightening herself, she declares: "I can make my choice now."
"As the arbiter of this dispute, what is your decision? Who will lead Ferelden?" Eamon asks and all the nobles crane their necks to get a better look at the small ginger standing there in the middle of the hall.
I can feel Anora's glare. Her eyes are boring into the back of my head and when I turn, that look on her face chills me to the bone. I never liked her watching me... but this time, her stare is like a dagger... one of those with a jagged blade and smeared with poison... Maker! This woman scares me and the lopsided grin I offer as a reply freezes on my face and turns into a grimace.
"Ano..." Rori begins, then frowns and falls silent when Anora steps forward triumphantly, casting one last scathing look at me.
"What? Go on, you were about to say my name," Anora snaps when she finds Rori stares at her slack-jawed. The poor girl looks as if she has seen a ghost.
"Alistair..." Rori gasps instead. "Alistair shall be king." Eamon inhales, spreads his arms and opens his mouth... and that's when Rori - defiance written all over her face - blurts out: "And I will rule beside him!" She doesn't address me. She's talking to Eamon, her words daring him to object.
"Really? You will?" I stammer, feeling like someone just pulled a rug from under my feet. I'm not sure if I'm floating or falling. "This is where I wake up usually. Or everyone points and laughs because I have no clothes on."
Eamon is as surprised as I am. But far less delighted. He can't outmanoeuvre her anymore now after he accepted her decision right in front of the Landemeet.
I shake my head no when Eamon turns to me furiously. I didn't say a word. Rori must have been eavesdropping. Cunning little beast.
Seems Ferelden will have to wait for a royal baby for a very long time.
I do have to talk to Rori as soon as possible. And then I better make up for my crappy reaction on her engaging herself to me...
Andraste's flaming sword! We are going to be king and queen of Ferelden!
Sounds like a fairy tale, doesn't it?
I wonder, if ours ends with 'and they all lived happily ever after'.
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In good times and in bad