by Milton Garby
"Oh? You mean like after the Blight tears apart all creation and maybe you and your sister are still alive?" Aedan answered sarcastically.
"Alright, I get your point. But…could you, you know, come with me? I mean you know more about being a brother than I do and I'm kinda nervous."
"Fine." Aedan sighed. "Let's go."
"Yes. Let's, let's go. Will she even recognize me? My sister. Maker, that strange to say." The others waited outside as Alistair entered his sister's house with Aedan in tow giddy as a girl.
Ten Minutes Later….
Well. That was less than ideal to say the least. Not only was Goldanna not interested in have anything to do with Alistair, she actually blamed him for their mother's death and how crappy her life has been. She actually demanded some kind of recompense for her years of pain like Alistair owed her something. Aedan was tempted to just slap tongue out of her head, but Alistair managed to maintain his calm. He tried to smooth things over with his sister but she would have none of it. While Aedan was glad to be out of there, Alistair looked like the kid whose puppy just got killed. "So that's it? That's my sister? That money-grabbing harridan is all the family I have left?"
"I'm sorry, Alistair." Aedan said truthfully. "Not everything's as wonderful as we wish it could be."
"I guess I…I thought she'd accept me right on the spot. Am I really such a loser?"
Aedan scratched his head thoughtfully while looking at his sword-brother. "The sad truth, Alistair, is in this country you gotta earn people's respect to make them wanna give a damn about you. Everyone's out for themselves and there are no free hand-outs. You gotta walk on your own feet."
"I guess you're right." Alistair admitted defeatedly.
"Hey, it's not like you really needed that bitch anyway. Family isn't just limited to those who you share blood with. Look at Eamon and Teagan. I know it was never perfect, but I'm sure they still consider you family."
"I…I guess you're right, Aedan. Thank you. Really. It is time I stopped relying on others to make decisions for me and start thinking for myself."
"Good. It's about time."
"But how do you do it, Aedan? Earn people's respect so easily?"
"I don't earn respect, Alistair. I command it." Aedan answered sternly.
Now that was a wake up call if Alistair ever heard one. He admitted to himself that everywhere they went Aedan held a certain command of presence that demanded respect. Aedan never shied from who he was or what he believed in no matter the consequences, and he was always ready to stand his ground for his beliefs, never leaning or relying on anything but his own strength of will. If Alistair was going to be king of Ferelden, to be worthy of being called Maric's son, he would need to find his own strength.
As the two Wardens made their way back from Goldanna's home back to the heart of the Denerim Market they were met by Lelianna, Wynne and Oghren who had finished their task of assembling their contingency force just outside the city gates. Oghren was currently downing a large bottle of whiskey he had just purchased so quickly Aedan would have thought he was just pounding water. How could someone of his stature drink so much? Leliana approached Aedan with an uncharacteristically troubled look. "Is something wrong, Leliana? You look disturbed."
She was silent for a moment, like she was nervous about the answer. "When we were done organizing the company we brought I looked around the market and found the address that mercenary gave us. And I believe Marjolaine is truly there."
On the road they were ambushed by some very well equipped and very skilled mercenaries. Someone put a lot of coin into hiring this group, there were tal-vashoth sell-swords and an apostate amongst them. However, they were no Antivan crows and were quickly killed, all except one, the captain. Aedan was tempted to just throw the man into rocky-river below them but Leliana insisted they get answers out of him. In exchange for his life and with tip of a sword pressed against his neck, the mercenary told them everything he knew. He was hired out of Denerim via letter by an exceedingly wealthy patron to kill the red-haired "pretty thing" traveling with the Wardens. They were obviously hired to kill Leliana, but at the mentioning of "pretty thing" the bard went pale with shock and even heartbreak. She concluded that is was her former bard master, Marjolaine, and she sent these men to kill her. The captain gave them the letter and address that had hired before he limped off with his life. Leliana recognized the handwriting, even how he pet name was written, there was no doubt in her mind that it was Marjolainne who sent them. Not one to let his companions go around with a target on his back, Aedan promised Leliana that they would find Marjolaine when they reached Denerim.
Leliana led them to a small but luxurious home right between the Market District and the Noble Quarter. It was quaint enough to be unseen, but extravagant enough for a noblewoman to be comfortable, the perfect place for a bard to conduct her trade. The instant they walked through the doors they were met by the same tal-vashoth mercenaries they had met on the road and were instantly attacked. As skilled as they were, their oversized mauls and axes were a hinderince in close-quarters. And despite their expensive plate armor, even that had chinks that could be exploited. Zevran quickly killed them both with the daggers he kept on his person by stabbing them both in the jugular. With the two gaurds dead they all walked into the house unopposed. "Marjolaine! Come out! In know you're in here!" Leliana called out with mixed anxiety and anger.
A tall, beautiful woman with long, black hair that cascaded down to her shoulders with intricate braids tied in it. She wore an elegant Orlesian dress that screamed her wealth. Laced pearls and spun silver with detailed floral designs of silk and velvet, all showing of her slim figure and ample assets. All in all she was the picture of Orlesian beauty. Aedan wondered what sound that beautiful neck would make when he snapped it like a twig.
"Ah. Leliana, my dear. How good of you to come." Marjolaine greeted happily in a thick Orlesian accent. "Oh, you must forgive these shabby accommodations. I try to be a good hostess but you see what I have to work with. This country smells like wet dog! Even now it is in my hair, my clothes! Ugh!" The professional assassin complained as if they didn't just commit murder right in her own doorway. She was either very arrogant or very well prepared. Those mercenaries outside her door probably weren't the only ones in the building. "Our glorious empire rules this land for nearly a century and you'd think these simple-minded dog-lords could have learned a thing or two about civility. Instead they are content to roll around in the mud and filth like pigs. I think the Blight will do more good than harm if only to rid the world of such a backwater people."
Aedan's need to kill spiked through the roof. "Woman, insulting my country within earshot of me is unwise. Insulting my country right infront of me, however, is very…unhealthy." The Warden threatned while cracking his knuckles.
"Oh? So this is the Fereldan turnip you've taken to warming up to?" Marjolaine observed sacatically. "Hmm, yes, I suppose he is handsome enough. The barbarity and tattoos does make him seem…exotic. And I'm sure there's plenty of muscles underneath all that armor, but surely you could do better than this, my pretty thing." She pointed out almost jealously.
"Stop it! You know why I'm here, Marjolaine!" Leliana yelled almost tearfully. "You framed me! Had me caught, tortured. I thought in Ferelden, I'd be free of you, but it seems I'm not. I thought we…What did I do to make you hate me? Why do you want me dead?"
"Dead? Oh, my dear Leliana, I never wanted you dead. I knew those mercenaries I sent could never have bested you, they were mearly meant to give you cause to come to me. And see? Here you are. I know my pretty thing so very well." The forthright sincerity of her voice was so well practiced she should have been a politician.
"If that's the truth then my dog is the Grand-Cleric!" Aedan spat unconvinced, Dane barked angrily.
"You are so transparent!" Leliana yelled. "What do you want? For once, tell me the truth!"
"The truth?" Marjolaine sighed. "The truth is you have knowledge that threaten
s. For my own safety, I can never let you be. And did you really think I did not know where you are? Did you think I would not watch my Leliana? My pretty thing? I watched you closely while you were in that cloister, and I must admit you very nearly had me fooled. The quiet life, the drab clothes the poor hair style, it was all a very clever guise, but I knew this wasn't truly you. My pretty little Leliana could never be a cloistered sister, and I see I was correct." Marjolaine's eyes gazed dangerously at Aedan. Aedan could even see a little envy in those pretty green eyes of hers. "But then you left the Chantry so suddenly, so abruptly, and in the company of the son of a powerful teyrn, no less. What conclusion could I draw? You tell me."
"You know who I am?" Aedan inquired.
"Oh, yes, indeed, Lord Cousland. Your aggravated and very brutal assault on the chevalier over that elven lass left quite a scandal in the noble circle. I hear the man still can't walk without crutches."
"You think I left because of you?" Leliana interjected. "You think everything I've done is some elaborate plot for revenge? You're insane! Paranoid!"
"Wow, lady. Here's what you need to do: stop involving yourself with Leliana, go to your local library, and find a how-to book on how to get your own life!" Aedan laughed. "Cause, sad fact of the matter is not everything revolves around you."
"Oh? Is that what you think?" Marjolaine rebuffed insulted. "If I were you, Lord Cousland, I wouldn't believe a word she says. Not a word. You look on her sweet face, with those familiar Fereldan features and you think you see a comrade? A Friend? It is all an act." The mad bard accused. "This is what we bards do, what we are. She will use you for her own ends and then betray you when she has what she wanted."
"A bard would, yes." Aedan agreed. "But not Leliana. She's too much of a damned Andrastian to be so malicious."
"Thank you." Leliana whispered. "I am not you, Marjolaine. I left because I never wanted to be you."
"Oh? But you are me." The older bard declared. "All those years we spent together, the way we made the Grand Game dance to our tune. The passion we shared together. No one knows you better than I, my pretty thing."
"No! You're wrong." Leliana yelled with confidence and defiance. "I left Orlais to find out who I am, and I have found that person in my fight against the Blight. You have no more power over me, Marjolaine! I want you out of my life. Forever."
Aedan was proud of the confidence Leliana finally found within herself, but he knew that her former master would never leave her alone. "Marjolaine is too selfish to leave you in peace, Leliana. You must deal with her now."
It broke Leliana's heart, but she knew Aedan was right. "You've caused too much pain to be allowed to walk away, Marjolaine. It ends now."
"And you think you can kill me?" The paranoid woman scoffed. "I made you what you are, and I can unmake you just as well! Kill them all!" Marjolaine shrieked. The room tal-vashoth mercenaries and several sarebaas. Marjolaine spared no expense in acquiring such sought after mercenaries to provide her protection, but she hadn't counted on the highly trained and diverse companions that Leliana traveled with. In such a confined space Zevran had the advantage and easily clipped the mercenaries' hamstrings and slit their throats while Oghren smashed their chest cavities in with his hammer. Alistair used his Templar abilities to suppress the sarebaas' magic and with only their staves to protect them Alistair and Sten quickly decapitated them. Marjolaine whipped out two stilettos from her sleeves and madly charged her former apprentice. With everyone fighting in such close spaces Leliana couldn't knock an arrow fast enough, Marjolaine tackled her to the ground and was going to stab her to death. Aedan ripped Marjolaine off his companion by her hair, socked her so hard in the stomach he knocked the air out of her lungs, then he slammed her against the wall, dazing her.
Leliana picked herself up off the ground, all the mercenaries were dead, but Marjolaine was still alive. Aedan kicked the knives out of her hands, grabbed her by her now disheveled hair and dragged her into the middle of the room. "So this is it? After playing the Grand Game for so long, I'm to die at the hands of a Fereldan turnip." Marjoliane lamented.
"Not my hands. Hers." Aedan answered with his eyes pointing at Leliana.
"What? You…Are you serious?" Leliana gasped.
"I'm about a serious as the plague, Leliana." Aedan answered while holding out one of Marjolaine's stillettos to her. "This woman framed you, had you tortured. She was willing to sell out her own country! You can't let her crimes go unanswered."
Leliana hesitantly took the stiletto from Aedan's hand and knelt before her former master. She looked at her face-to-face one last time, but had to know one thing before she carried out the deed. "Marjolaine, please, tell me the truth. Did you ever love me?" She whispered into Marjolaine's ear.
Marjolaine smiled sadly. "Of course I did, my pretty thing. But I always loved myself more." Marjolaine answered honestly for the first and last time. Leliana held her former lover close to her one last time and slid the stiletto into her heart. Leliana wept burning tears of loss and relief as she felt life leave Marjolaine's body. It was such an odd sensation. To feel her heart break as she felt a terrible burden lift from her shoulders. Leliana gently laid Marjolaine's body down on the floor in a dignified posture and whispered a silent prayer for her misbegotten lover. She went over to Marjolaine's strongbox and found the bow she once coveted. Marjolain's Recurve was a masterfully crafted longbow, but the delicate inlays and beautiful etching along the grip reflected the beauty and deadliness of the Orlesian Bards. Their task complete, Leliana decided it was time for them and herself to move on.
As they left the manor Aedan was speedily approached by a young urchin. "Message for you, milord!" The boy blurted as he hastily handed Aedan a sealed envelope.
"Who the fu-?"
"More things to deliver! Gotta go!" The boy sped off like a bat out of hell.
Aedan hadn't been in the city for more than a half a day. Who the hell could be summoning him? Aedan observed the heraldry on the waxen seal. It was unfamiliar to him, a raven rampart surrounded by a wreath of grape vines and a spilling coin purse at its feet. This was definetly not Fereldan. "Might I see that letter, dear Warden?" Zevran chimed. Aedan handed it over and Zevran inspected the envelope as if it were something dangerous. After making sure that it wasn't going to bite him, Zevran handed it back to Aedan. "This is the seal of Master Ignancio, one of the Guildmasters of the House of Crows." Zevran revealed.
"Is this another one of their pitiful attempts to try and assassinate our dear Warden?" Morrigan asked.
"No, I do not think so." Zevran answered. "Crows prefer to act with discretion and stealth. Not make their intentions known to the target."
"In other words the opposite of what you do." Morrigan stated mockingly.
"This is no time for mockery!"Leliana let out. "If a Crow Guildmaster has taken a personal interest in Aedan it can't be a good thing."
Aedan could see that Leliana was still in torment about what happened with Marjolaine and decided that it would be best that she collect herself. "Leliana, why don't you go back to the Arl's estate and rest? The rest of us will see about what the Crows want."
Leliana was half trying to fool herself and half trying to keep herself from bursting into tears in the middle of the market. "I assure you I'm fine, I can still help…"
Before she could finish Aedan put a hand on her shoulder. "Go back and rest." He repeated. "You need time to deal with what happened today." She wanted protest further but gave Aedan a defeated nod. Perhaps some time to herself would do her some good.
The message had directions to meet this Ignacio at the Gnawed Noble Tavern. This would give them the opprutunity to see which nobles were in the city and who the might be able to rely on. On the way over there Aedan heard a voice most annoying coming from a pretty, brown haired girl who looked about fifteen. From the way the girl dressed she was definetly of noble birth. "It's so nice to be in civilization again. You can't buy Orlesian silks anywhere in South Reach." A
re you kidding? Half of the realm is starving and dying from war and Blight and last he heard South Reach was overrun by darkspawn, and this retarded little brat was waisting coin on silks!? Oh, now she was buying worthless jewelry and calling her elven maid a lazy slut. Apparently the spoiled moron noticed Aedan's disapproving look and gave him an indignant sneer. "Don't stare at me, churl! I can have my father send you down south to fight darkspawn."
"Little late for that, bitch." Aedan responded nonchalantly.
The girl gave an exhasperated gasp. Apparently no one ever spoke to her like that before. "How…! How dare you!? Don't you know who I am!? I am Habren, daughter of Arl Byrland, and I demand you beg my forgiveness at once!"
Now, no child speaks like this to Aedan, so he decided the best way to teach this snot-nose a lesson was by showing her what she was missing down south and gave her a Frightening Appearance. Just to go easy on her he just made his eyes bright, glowing red with his teeth elongated and sharp before giving her a deep snarl. Habren gave a horrified whine and hid behind the very maid she was berating. "Y-y-you're an abomination, aren't you!? I-I'm calling t-the Templars at once. You'll be d-drawn a-and quartered!"
Now this was entertainment Morrigan thought. Hopefully she'd be able to see her dear Warden gore the dumb whelp. But before Aedan could respond to her empty threats she heard another voice of authority join this chorus of amusement. "Habren, show respect! You are speaking to the rightful heir to the Terynir of Higherver." The owner of that statement was a tall, middle-aged man. He had a muscular build indicating that he was a warrior, his brown hair was beginning to grey and his face was clean shaven. By the way Aedan reacted he knew this man.
Aedan gave the man a respectful nod. "Arl Bryland, it's been too long."
"Yes, yes it has been." Arl Bryland said returning the courtesy. "When last I saw you, you were just beginning your training, now your one of the most talked about figures of this generation." Bryland looked over to his daughter. "Habren, go back to the manor at once." He commanded.