Chapter 7: Unintended Consequences

When I woke, that comforting presence was gone, and I wondered if I would be at home when I opened my eyes, but then I heard low voices, Tomas and Theron whispering in anger. I couldn't hear what they said, until Theron hissed the word "fine", and then I heard him storm off, stomping and muttering under his breath. I waited until I couldn't hear him anymore, preparing to get up, but then I heard Tomas chuckle close behind me.

"You can open your eyes now, Sierra. He's gone."

I sat up, rubbing sleep from my eyes, and smiled at Tomas ruefully. "Was that about me? I hope that I haven't stirred up any trouble, Tomas."

"Yes, I'm afraid it was about you. And don't worry, I will manage Theron. I admit that I'm relieved that you have so much common sense, Sierra."

"It doesn't take much common sense to realise that I don't want to be a mistress, can't be his wife, and that I would never survive the political shitstorm of trying to be either one. I don't exactly relish the idea of mothering the royal bastard, either."

"I think you'd be surprised, my lady," he replied drily, and we both smirked, "at exactly how many women, even among the nobility, would give their entire family fortune for the opportunity to try. However, I also suspect that it makes it easier to turn down the charming, handsome King of Ferelden when one's heart is ... already spoken for. Yes?"

I looked away, not wanting to meet his eyes, frantically trying to think up convincing ways to deny it. Why did I have to be so damned keen to show off my knowledge of Alistair? He brushed my hair out of my face, and I couldn't help but look at him. He was smiling down at me kindly, and didn't appear to be angry or offended. I felt my face crumple, and finally just nodded. I was entirely aware of how inappropriate my feelings were for a man I'd not even met yet, and how bad an idea it would be for me to even try to begin that relationship. Tomas watched the emotions pass across my face. He leaned forward, his face inches from mine, and whispered.

"For what's it's worth, you have my blessing." While I stared, mouth falling open in shock, Tomas winked at me and then bounded to his feet.

"Wake up, Sierra! We can't have you sleeping away the whole day." He called loud enough that Theron, from somewhere nearby, came crashing back into camp. I glared at Tomas, then tried to plaster a sleepy-confused expression on my face before Theron made it back into camp.

"Good morning, Theron," I called as he came within sight. He scowled, reminding me of nothing so much as a sulky child, but then managed to wipe the expression off his face and come over to sit by me. Tomas crouched in front of us, pointedly ignoring the fact that Theron practically sat with his knee touching mine. I mentally rolled my eyes.

"I thought that today we should perhaps scout into Lothering and see what is happening there, maybe make sure we haven't missed Alistair and Aedan on the way here. From what Sierra has said, I don't think we should stay in town," I shook my head in confirmation, "but we need some information."

"I should go." I cut him off before he could say any more. He opened his mouth to object, but I raised my hand to silence him. "You two may look slightly different with your fancy new haircuts, but the fact is, you're both supposed to be dead and we can't afford for rumours of either of you to circulate and get back to Loghain. And there are some of his men already in town, harassing the townsfolk and looking for Alistair and Aedan. No one in Ferelden knows me, and I can go there without being recognised. There are enough templars remaining at the Chantry that I shouldn't have to fear for my safety, and it should be days at least before the darkspawn swarm this place. I'll find out what I can, maybe see if I can buy some food, and come back." The men looked at each other, both obviously reluctant to go but knowing I was right. "The only concern is if I disappear again while I'm there. So I propose that I head into town, you guys wait until tonight, and if I don't come back you can try to sneak in tomorrow." They both finally nodded.

"I'll get cleaned up and then put on my fancy new dress. The only other thing, is, well ... I'm going to have to act like a noblewoman, until I can get some suitable common clothing at least. I need a name of some minor, unknown noble I can claim to be related to if anyone asks. The daughter of a younger son, something like that. Somewhere to say I'm from. It has to be small enough that no one in Lothering is likely to ever have been there. Theron, do you have any ideas?"

"Let me think while you wash up."

I headed to the stream, washing my hands and face thoroughly and wetting my hair so I could put it up in an updo. Thank God for hair that stays braided without elastics! It was difficult with such a small mirror and only a comb, but I was finally satisfied that it would stay. I changed my underpants, washing out the dirty pair in the stream with the soap, and tucking them, still damp, into the pack. I hoped neither Tomas nor Theron went looking through that pocket! It was warm enough that I took off my bulky jacket, and slipped the dress on over just my t-shirt. It looked far less rumpled that way, and I was again impressed at the tailor I'd found. Even though the dress was designed for a larger body, the way it hung, meant to cover layered clothing, meant you couldn't tell. Lastly I added the cloak, leaving the hood back for now.

The looks on both men's faces were priceless when I wandered back into the clearing, forcing myself to stride purposefully, keep good posture, and ever so slightly keep my nose in the air. Clearly neither thought I could pull off looking like a noblewoman, and my anxiety eased slightly as I thought that just maybe I could fool everyone into believing. Tomas handed me two pouches with coin, and glancing inside, I immediately understood. One was virtually empty, holding only a couple of silver coins and half a dozen copper ones. I was grateful to see they were actual Fereldan currency, not my Roman stuff. The other pouch was fuller, and I laughed as Theron looked on in amazement as I tucked it securely down the neck of my dress, into my bra. If anyone tried to rob me, they'd think the small pouch was all I had, and most of the coin would be safe. Tomas smiled in approval as he watched me. I left the sword, though I kept the dagger firmly tied to my thigh, invisible under the dress.

Theron gave me a back-story. He told me about a minor noble, a Lord William of Wentwater, in the far north, whose land was very isolated on the coast several days outside of Amaranthine. He'd married a young commoner from the Free Marches in his later years, after his wife and son died, and then been widowed again when she died in childbirth. He was rarely seen, refusing to come to the Landsmeet and other events, and apparently had two daughters, about my age, neither of whom he let leave the castle. Of course this spurred a lot of rumours that he was bedding his own girls, but Theron suspected the truth was he was senile and kept his daughters close as nursemaids. No one had reported seeing them in years, and he couldn't even remember their names, so we decided I should stick with my own. I could claim to be running away from home, heading to Redcliffe, and that would explain my presence in Lothering. I fixed the details in my mind, and then Tomas escorted me to within a couple of miles of town.

Nervous, I headed toward Lothering alone. After a few minutes I came around a bend on the Imperial Highway and stopped, startled. There were no bandits on the road, and I turned onto the ramp leading down into Lothering. In place of the ramshackle refugee camp outside of town that I expected, there was a sea of tents, aligned with military precision, and the area was swarming with soldiers. Some were practicing on hastily roped-off training grounds, some were marching in small units of about a dozen men, hurrying off to do ... something. Others were lounging around, polishing and repairing armour, eating, or sitting in small groups just talking. There were women bustling around, carrying things, cooking over small fires, hanging laundry in the sun, and generally doing the day-to-day things that were needed to feed and care for that many men.

Despite the apparent discipline within the camp, a sombre mood hung over the whole area. All the voices seemed to be hushed whispers, with the exception of the leaders calling out orders. The only loud noises were the clang of practice swords on shields, and the tromping of feet. There were guards posted regularly around the edge of the camp, all of them alert and grim. I noted an area, slightly separated from the rest of the camp, which must have been an infirmary, overflowing with men. These men had seen battle, I surmised, and some hadn't survived. The missing troops from Ostagar!

I skirted the edge of the camp, not anxious to get close to whichever nobleman was leading this army. My story wouldn't hold up if anyone knew of Lord William. I tried to blend into a group of refugees, avoiding the soldiers and trudging towards the town proper. I pulled up the hood on my cloak, hiding my fancy hairdo, and made it to the edge of town without being stopped. Lothering was much larger than the game had implied, unsurprisingly. However, the Chantry was visible from the gate where I entered, and I headed in that direction, hoping for information.

There were soldiers all over the town. Some marched in groups, and I wondered if they were meant as guards. Other walked casually, clearly not on duty, talking and heading in and out of shops. I avoided eye contact, and kept moving towards the building that strongly resembled a church. Instead of a cross there was the eye and starburst thing I remembered from the game, but otherwise it looked like any rural church from home.

I found a templar on guard outside the Chantry, and approached him nervously. I pulled my hood back to show my face, but not enough to show my hair or allow anyone else to get a good look at me. He looked curiously down at my dress, then offered a slight bow of his head.

"My Lady? How may I assist you?"

I asked about the soldiers, and he informed me that they were the remnants of the men commanded by Arl Bryland at Ostagar. The name was familiar, though I couldn't place it, and I filed that away for later. The Arl himself wasn't with the men, having left in a hurry for Denerim, leaving an underling in command. He volunteered that the soldiers had orders to keep the peace in Lothering and assist with evacuating the entire town over the next few days. He knew that the men had come from Ostagar, and had heard conflicting rumours about what had happened there. Some said the Grey Wardens had betrayed the King, but others heard that Loghain had run away in fear. Everyone agreed the King and all of the Grey Wardens were dead. There had apparently been a couple of bar-room brawls between some random travelers and a handful of Bryland's men, and I wondered if the would-be assassins in the tavern where I recalled meeting Leliana had been chased off. If they had, I figured I should probably try to find Leliana, because I didn't know where she would end up meeting Alistair and Aedan if not during that fight.

I asked about the evacuation efforts, and he admitted that without Bryland's men, they'd never have been able to manage. As it was, he thought that they just might be able to get everyone out, but everyone was worried it would take too long. He hoped that it didn't come down to combat with the horde while refugees were fleeing for their lives. He seemed frustrated at standing uselessly in front of the Chantry instead of doing something to help. I was completely sympathetic.