No Armor Against Fate (a Dragon Age fanfiction)

Friends and Partners

Even with the city still in piles of rubble everywhere, it was a day of celebration. Reconstruction was proceeding at an astonishing pace. The people of Denerim were fanatically loyal to their city, and would not see it destroyed for long.

The entire company of travelers were at the grand feast held, for lack of anywhere better that was in appropriate condition, in the Chantry. The entire company other than Morrigan, that is. She hadn't been seen since the Archdemon was killed. The result of her ritual would, hopefully, not be known to them. Ever, Thora thought. She was seated at the head of the banquet table with Alistair, but spent very little time sitting. During most of the feast, she was moving about the room, talking to some people, arranging for messages to be sent to others. By the time the banquet drew to a close, she knew what she would do about rebuilding the Grey Wardens.

People began to leave in small groups, going back to wherever they'd found a place to stay. Thora's group had agreed to meet by the big fireplace in the kitchen at the Arl of Denerim's estate, that being as close as they would get to gathering around a campfire. They all knew this would be the last night.

But before that, she needed to speak with Alistair.

She strolled back to the Arl of Denerim's estate with Oghren. He was the other person she needed to speak to today. She eyed him appraisingly. Drunk, that was a given ... but not so drunk as he would be later. "Oghren."

"Warden?"

"What are your plans, now that the Blight is over? Will you go back to Orzammar?"

"Not sodding likely! Being up here on the surface still feels like being drunk every day ... without having to drink a thing."

"Then what will you do?"

He belched, looking thoughtful. "I could look up Felsi again. She didn't seem too happy to see me ... but Little Oghren might convince her."

Thora let that one go. "I was wondering ... if I could ask you to stay with me in Amaranthine for a while?"

Oghren chortled. "Think the little Wardens could use some seasoning, do ya?"

"I think you could be very useful ... to me and to the new Warden recruits. Will you stay for a while? We can even try and contact Felsi for you."

"By the Stone, Warden, you've got yourself a deal! Let's drink to it."

"You drink, Oghren. I think I'll pass." They were entering the Arl of Denerim's estate now. "And Oghren?"

He burped at her.

"Remember to meet us in all in the kitchen later. And we'll be needing to leave tomorrow. Around midday. Okay by you?"

"If we have to go, might's well go soon. Before someone hands us a sodding can of nails and expects us to go to work, eh?" He laughed heartily.

"A good point." She took a deep breath, then headed for the Arl's study. She stood outside the door for several minutes, smoothing her sweaty palms over the dress someone had found and forced her to wear. She had reason to be thankful for the current styles, though ... they made everyone look pregnant. Eventually she knocked on the door.

"Come in." Alistair was sitting behind the desk, leaning back in the chair, looking surprisingly comfortable. "You know, I knew you were there."

She looked at him, startled. "Ah, yes, the taint. Makes it hard to sneak up on another Grey Warden, doesn't it?" She took a chair on the other side of the desk. Armorless and seated, she felt small and vulnerable and ill at ease.