A Candle in the Darkness (A Dragon Age: Inquisition fanfiction)

Decision

5 Drakonis, 9:42

Antonia stood in the antechamber as preparations for Rainier's judgment went on. In a few minutes she had to go out there and sit on a throne and pretend to be qualified to judge the actions of a man old enough to be her father, and she was so nervous she wanted to vomit.

"You all right, Herald?" Varric asked, coming up beside her.

"No."

"Didn't think so. Look," he said, "they made you Inquisitor; didn't give you much of a choice, really. Now you're in charge, and you have every right to fix this situation however you think is best."

"I couldn't let him die."

"Of course not. Can you think of any of your companions you could have left there?"

She thought of Solas—they treated each other with courtesy, but no warmth had ever grown between them, despite Solas's occasional protestations of friendship. But not even Solas could she have left in that cell in Orlais waiting to die. "No." She looked down at the dwarf, grateful for his support. "I love you, Varric," she said abruptly, without having meant to.

He chuckled. "Women keep telling me that. I don't know whether to be flattered or frightened."

"Maybe that means they're not the right women."

"Is there such a thing as the right woman? I'm beginning to doubt it."

Antonia remembered the devastation in his face in the Deep Roads when he learned of Bianca's betrayal. He had covered it quickly, but not quickly enough, and the rawness of the emotion in his usually carefully schooled face had shocked and saddened her. She thought then of the way his stance and demeanor changed when Cassandra was in the room, becoming subtly more challenging, more virile. But she said nothing.

Varric smiled at her. "Besides, any man who can't be satisfied to be loved by women such as Hawke and you, Antonia, isn't worth his chest hair."

She returned the smile. He ought to be ridiculous, this dwarf with his overly fancy clothes and his oversize crossbow and his larger than life personality, but his heart was the greatest thing about him, and that was anything but ridiculous. "Thank you, Varric."

"Anytime. Now, get out there and get Blackwall-Rainier back where he belongs."

Antonia took her seat on the throne, watching as they led Rainier to her in chains.

Josephine stood near her, with the list of his crimes before her on her little portable desk. "Inquisitor. Presenting to you Thom Rainier, formerly known to us as Warden Blackwall. His crimes—well, you already know his crimes." She hesitated, then said, "It was no small expense to bring him here ... but the decision of what to do with him is now yours."

Antonia ignored the disapproval radiating from her ambassador. Josephine didn't mind using political favors on her own behalf, but it evidently bothered her to use them on Blackwall's. Antonia supposed there was some sense there, but it wasn't her problem—the favors existed, and she hadn't hesitated to use them on behalf of either of them. "Thom Rainier," she said.

He looked up at her, his face resigned but his eyes blazing. She knew he thought she should have left him in Orlais. He wasn't the only one who thought that, but Varric was right. They had put her in charge, they could all live with her decisions.

"When Warden Blackwall was killed, his intention was that you should become a Grey Warden. After everything that has occurred, they need good men in their ranks more than ever, and in your service to this Inquisition, you have proven yourself to be a good man." She paused, waiting for him to argue, but he only looked down at his chained hands. "When this war is over, you will go to the nearest Grey Warden base still standing and you will offer yourself to their cause. In the meantime, you will continue to work for the Inquisition, putting your blade and experience to good use in our fight against Corypheus. This is not a time when we can afford to lose skilled people." She kept her eyes on Rainier, knowing that his was the reaction she would have to fight hardest against, and paid no attention to the sounds around her.

He closed his eyes, accepting her decree. "As you command."

"I'm told the life of a true Warden is no easy thing, but it is the one you should have had long ago."

"I will make it count." Rainier paused. "I am grateful for this, Inquisitor, even if I don't understand it."

"Good." She stood up. "Release him from his chains."

The soldiers surrounding him did so. One of them shoved him a little too hard, but Antonia turned a blind eye to it. She couldn't command people to approve of him, or of her decision, only to accept that it was final. He would have to earn back the trust and respect of the Inquisition, and that, too, would be part of his punishment and his atonement.

She took dinner in her quarters that night, not wanting to face the rest of the Inquisition. Not that she felt at all hesitant about her decision—it was the only one that had been possible for her—but she would rather put the night between herself and everyone else's opinions. She fed Phoenix scraps from her plate, glad for the puppy's solid bulk next to her as she ate cross-legged in front of the fireplace.

He wasn't much of a puppy at this point; he was growing rapidly, to the point where the kennel-master thought he could go on short expeditions with her in another few weeks. Cullen wanted her to start training with Phoenix in the ring, so they could both get used to fighting together.

As if thinking of him had conjured him out of the air, she heard the door close far below and the tread of Cullen's boots on the walkway and then on the stairs. "Want some company?"

"Yours? Always."

"Well, I was thinking of Eustace's." He smiled.

"In that case ..."

Cullen dropped down next to her, playing with Phoenix's ears. Lucky was nowhere to be seen; probably in the kennels for the night. Cullen had said he didn't think she was prepared for his nightmares yet, and she could hardly climb the ladder to his loft anyway. He usually kenneled her at night unless he was sure he was going to be sleeping in Antonia's quarters.

"That was a big decision today."

"You don't agree with it."

He hesitated. "It wasn't my decision to make."

"That's a cop-out and you know it. You have an opinion; you always do."

"All right; sending him to the Wardens was a good idea, but I wouldn't have kept him on with the Inquisition."

"You don't have to fight beside him."

"No," Cullen agreed, "I don't. But the rest of your companions do. What do they think?"

"I didn't ask them. Varric asked me if there was any one of them I could have left there in prison to be hanged, and I had to say no; I couldn't have stomached losing any of them that way, no matter what they'd done." She looked into the fire, watching the flames leap. "No doubt that's very weak of me."

"You stood up for a man under your command. It's more than Rainier did."

"It's exactly what he did—just ... he waited too long. And now, instead of being a captain of his own men, he is taking orders from a slip of a girl young enough to be his daughter. That sounds like punishment to me." She smiled, but without humor.

"You are the only person who thinks of you that way," Cullen said sternly. "If you needed another companion, I can think of a hundred men who would gladly fight for the privilege. Men of honor and integrity."

"That's the thing, though. Blackwall is a man of honor and integrity. He made a mistake, a large one, but he has been atoning for it in his own rough way ever since. Rainier, if you will, then," she said impatiently, before Cullen could correct her. "So by what do we judge a man, Cullen? By one act, albeit a terrible act, or by a lifetime of atonement?" She looked at him, his handsome face in profile as he watched the flames dance in the fireplace.

He gave a small smile, acknowledging the implicit comparison. "You would have it by the lifetime."

"And you by the single act. So it's a good thing I'm in charge, isn't it?"

"For Rainier." But the smile was tugging at the corners of his mouth, and he reached for her, pulling her against him. "And maybe for the rest of us, too."