When Fate Summons (a Dragon Age fanfiction)

A Little Good News

On the morning of the second day out from Lothering, Thora came over a the rise of a hill and saw a small camp set up not far from the road. A very small camp, to be sure—only one wagon. As she came closer, she could see two small figures sitting near the campfire.

"Do you think they're in some kind of trouble?" she asked Anders as he caught up to her.

"Perhaps they're just enjoying the lovely day." He looked up into the grey, cloudy sky. "Or maybe they're in trouble."

Thora sighed. "Just when you think things aren't like they were during the Blight." She moved down the hill, recognizing as she neared the camp that the figures were dwarves. Even after so many years happily on the surface, her heart warmed at the sight of her own people.

One of the figures caught sight of the group coming toward them and stood up, waving wildly, jumping up and down. The smooth beardless face, the curly blond hair, the childlike enthusiasm—"Sandal!" Thora cried. She looked over her shoulder, catching Alistair's eye. "Alistair, it's the Feddics!"

He put on speed, Dirnley keeping pace just behind him, and caught up with her. "D'you think they'd have seen Anawyn? And Cybele?" he added after a moment. In all of this, he had a tendency to forget the other girl. Alistair felt guilty over that, but he'd barely thought of that ritual, or the child to come of it, in so many years.

Thora's eyes brightened. "Let's go find out!" she said excitedly. She quickened her steps, the humans keeping up with her easily, and approached the fire.

"Commander! Your Majesty!" Bodahn said, coming toward them with a smile. He knelt before the King, who flushed, still not entirely comfortable being treated like royalty.

"No, please, Bodahn, there's no need for such formality. I'm just Alistair." He reached a hand down to the dwarf, helping him to rise.

"I thank you, Your Majesty," Bodahn chuckled. "The knees aren't as young as they used to be."

"Bodahn," Thora began urgently, "we have to ask you—" but she was cut off by a strangled sound from Sandal. Looking at the younger dwarf, she saw that his dark eyes were blazing and the usual smile was absent from his face. She looked back at Bodahn, who shook his head slightly.

"If you can see my wares?" he asked with a hearty chuckle. "Of course!" He began to lay things out, dwarven-made goods that were hard to find outside of Orzammar. Thora, Morrigan, and Alistair had heard most of the patter many times, but Sigrun in particular was fascinated. Thora just hoped Sigrun didn't recognize any of the items from her time in the Deep Roads as part of the Legion of the Dead. Bodahn and Sandal were notorious scavengers, although that's not quite the way Bodahn liked to put it.

When the rest of the party was busy looking at his wares, Bodahn put a hand on Alistair and Thora's arms. "Commander? Your Majesty? I have a few special items that may interest you." They glanced at each other in concern before turning to follow him, Dirnley at Alistair's elbow as always.

"Dirnley," Alistair said, as if the thought had just occurred to him, "I think we'll camp here. Be a good fellow and go start setting up the tents, would you, please?"

"But, Sire, uh ..." Dirnley began, clearly flailing for a reason to stay near the King.

"Thanks so much," Alistair said, as if Dirnley had agreed, and turned back to follow Bodahn. Dirnley looked after the King, his mouth opening and closing helplessly, then barked for Jens and turned to the pile of tents.