Chapter 50: Choose and Lose

My absolutely gobsmacked expression must have amused him, and he snorted. "I know. Sounds impossible, right?"

Aedan barked a laugh. "No more so than a seer from another world, who happens to be my long-lost sister."

Gorim smiled grimly and continued. "She was sent into the Deep Roads. The thing is, Sereda was always fascinated by the Legion."

Aedan and Alistair both looked confused, so I clarified. "Legion of the Dead?" When Gorim nodded, I explained. "When someone joins the Legion, they are declared legally dead. They have a funeral, even, and then they go into the Deep Roads to spend the rest of their existence fighting the darkspawn. It's a way to regain honour for your house if you've done something shameful or whatever. They don't have to be afraid to fight to the death, because they're already dead."

Gorim nodded. "Sereda spent hours in the Shaperate learning everything she could about them. She made a point of being there any time a patrol came back to Orzammar to pepper them with questions. When Endrin saw her interest, he assigned them to her to organise, so she became involved with figuring out their patrol routes, supply stations, and where the next front should be. They reported directly to her. She had copies of all their maps with the new tunnels and cave-ins marked, though she didn't need them – she had them memorised."

I interrupted. "You think she found the Legion and joined them."

He nodded. "It's possible. She could also just be living off their supplies in hiding – she knows where their caches all are, and enough about the Deep Roads to survive. I managed to get the copies of their maps from her room before my exile, and smuggled them out with me. I wanted to come to Denerim, find the Grey Wardens, and convince them to launch an expedition into the Deep Roads to rescue her. I figured I could convince them that she would make a good recruit, and I would volunteer as well. But by the time I got here, the Grey Wardens had all gone to Ostagar, and then ... well, you know what happened there."

We all winced and nodded, everyone lost in their own thoughts on the subject. Finally he cleared his throat and continued.

"After that, I lost hope. I couldn't convince anyone else to go after her, and with all the Wardens dead ... I figured I had better make a life for myself, somehow. I owed Riana and her father, and began working for them so he could spend more time smithing and less time selling."

Riana reached up to squeeze his hand, but avoided eye-contact with him. "You're really going into the Deep Roads anyway?"

I nodded. "We have to go to Bownammar. And there is even a detachment of the Legion near there."

She thought for a moment and then asked, "Why do they both make poor Kings?"

Surprised, I considered. "Bhelen is just too dishonourable. He will be a strong King, and make needed changes in Orzammar, such as letting the casteless work, but he won't take any criticism from anyone, and he killed his brother, his father, and possibly his sister, to get to the throne. Not the kind of person who I think should be in power. And Harrowmont is the exact opposite in every way. He's honourable, but he will be a weak King, with not enough support to get anything done. He is against any sort of progress, and let's face it, the traditional ways aren't working. The number of dwarves is shrinking every year, and Orzammar is more and more threatened by the darkspawn – things need to change, or dwarves are going to be an endangered species."

Riana examined my face critically for a moment, and then stood. She left the room, while we all waited quietly, and after a couple of minutes, she came back. On her return, her arms were full of things. She carried a sword, a large round shield, and a pile of papers. She settled the papers in front of Aedan, and I saw that they were maps. The sword and shield she placed, deliberately, right in front of Gorim.

"You will need these when you go."

We all jumped in surprise. Gorim spoke, almost a shout really. "I'm not going anywhere, Ri."

She smiled sadly; reaching out, she lifted his hand and placed the pommel of the sword in it. "You think I don't hear you cry out for her in your sleep? I love you, Gorim Saelac, enough to know that you need this. You need to know, with total certainty, whether she is alive. The Wardens need you to lead them to her, and to their destination. And Orzammar needs you to find her. I may have been born a surfacer, but that doesn't mean I want to see an incompetent or an evil King ruling my Ancestors' city. And I need to know," she swallowed, face scrunched in pain, "that if I see you again, it's because you want to be here. I hate that you settled. I'd rather be alone than have you stay out of obligation."

He dropped the sword like it bit him, and jumped up, reaching his arms out to her. She held up one hand, and I could see steely determination in her eyes. He saw it too; his shoulders slumped. Revan started to cry, confused by what was going on, and when I reached down he crawled into my arms without hesitation. I cuddled his tiny shaking body to me, watching Gorim wide-eyed.

Riana stepped up to him, taking his face between her hands. "Go. Find her, save Orzammar, end the blight. And when that is all done, be with her if you can. If she's ... gone, come back. We will be here."

I stood, offering the little dwarf to his mother; he wrapped his arms around her neck and cried.

"Why don't ... why don't we just go outside, and leave you alone for a bit?" I offered.

Gorim shot me a grateful look as we all shuffled out; the last thing I saw was him reaching out to pull both of them into his arms.

We all put on our helmets before going outside, then spent an awkward few minutes standing around silently. Eventually, Wynne and Leliana decided to head back to the Pearl, and Zev and Prince accompanied them. It was after dark, and the thought of two women, armoured or not, wandering through the city alone didn't sit well with any of us.

Alistair and I stood, leaning against the wall of the house. Aedan gestured at us to stay, and then took off, fading into the shadows. I exchanged glances with Alistair, and he shrugged; neither of us had any idea what Aedan was up to.

We waited probably fifteen minutes before Aedan reappeared. But he wasn't alone; two large, burly men in armour and carrying heavy mauls followed him. He gestured at the house, and one of the men came to stand near us, not saying a word, while the other followed Aedan around back. I looked at the one near me, and realised – he was one of Marjolaine's goons, one of the ones we let go earlier. Too shocked to do anything but stare, I didn't even ask him what was going on.

Aedan came back around the corner, now alone. I tilted my head, but before I got an explanation, the door opened and Gorim stepped out. He was armoured, with his sword and shield strapped firmly to his back. He had a heavy-looking backpack over one shoulder. He looked surprised to see only the three of us plus one mercenary. Aedan finally explained.

"If I'm going to be taking you away from here, I'm damn well making sure they're safe. Especially with everything happening in the city right now. These guys owe me a favour. There will be one here and one with Riana any time she leaves the house, at least until this all blows over."

Gorim appeared somewhat overcome with emotion, but grateful. I squeezed Aedan's hand in appreciation. He nodded to the mercenary, and then took the lead, heading us back towards the Pearl. I fell in step beside Gorim, with Alistair following.

I spoke quietly. "You didn't have to leave tonight. We will be in Denerim for a few more days..."

He shook his head. "That would have been worse. Good-byes are hard enough, never mind dragging them out for days."

"Good point. Sorry."

He shrugged, and I stopped talking. We walked in silence all the way back to the Pearl. Inside, Aedan secured a room for Gorim, and we all headed upstairs. Gorim headed to his own room before we could even offer moral support, and so Alistair and I joined Aedan and Zev for a nightcap.

We were all still in shock that Gorim was coming with us. I had to blink back tears when I thought too much about how Riana must be coping. None of it was fair. We also discussed the possibility of Sereda being alive. Even assuming she was, I wasn't sure that she'd be accepted as Queen, but even the possibility was a darn sight better than putting that bastard Bhelen on the throne. I wondered if she had managed to find the Legion, and if Kardol would know once we found Bownammar.

I slipped into my room and brought the letters that I'd written – to Varric and Nathaniel Howe – to show to Aedan and Zevran. I explained the history of Hawke and the events of DA2, again without mentioning that Anders was the mage to initiate the war. For some reason that I couldn't explain, I wanted to protect Anders, even from himself; and given that I planned to stop him from merging with Justice, it didn't seem like it was a secret worth telling.

Aedan was still upset at the idea of me contacting Nate, but he had calmed since the first time we had discussed it. He agreed to hold off judgement until the Blight was ended, which was all I could ask. I knew it would be fine after that – Aedan wasn't an ass, and Nate would come to understand what his father had done eventually. Aedan finally, reluctantly agreed that I should attempt to have my letters delivered.

Alistair and I went to bed, and made love until we both collapsed, exhausted, and slept. I woke once, in the night, when Alistair began having a nightmare; I couldn't wake him, but I held him as he thrashed and groaned, and kissed his face and whispered comforting words until he seemed to slip into a different sort of dream. He whispered my name in that low, sexy voice he got when he was aroused, and suddenly I could feel him harden against my hip. He rolled me over, pulling my hips up to meet him as he drove himself into me, reaching around to caress my clit until I came, shuddering. I think he truly woke just as he released inside me; the strangled moan sounded less dream-like than he'd been up until that point, and the last sight I had, before I drifted off, was of his face, confused. I think I giggled. And then I slept.

When I woke in the morning, he was lying beside me, absently stroking my hair and watching my face. I smiled and rolled towards him, and he wrapped his arms around me. I inhaled deeply, smelling sweat and man and sex, and it lit a spark inside me somewhere. I really am a pervert. I kissed his shoulder where my face was pressed, and then felt more than heard him hiss as I lightly licked the soft skin. He tasted salty.

"So, um, love?"

I hummed in recognition of his question, but didn't stop my ministrations.

"I think ... I need to ask you something."

I hummed again.

"Last night, did we ... in the middle of the night, did we... ?"

I looked up, mischievous grin on my face. "Did we ... what?"