When Fate Summons (a Dragon Age fanfiction)

Down Under

The Deep Roads were much the same as always, Thora reflected as the four of them made their way down seemingly endless passages. As far as Thora was concerned, they all looked the same, but where Xandros's tracking skills shone on the surface, Sigrun's came to the fore underground. With her customary cheerfulness, the little dwarf wended her way through abandoned dwarf-made corridors, down twisting tendrils of walkways that seemed to have been hewn out by some kind of giant worm, and all of it with utter certainty that she knew the way Flemeth and the girls had gone.

As they emerged from one of the worm-like tunnels into a massive road, they were met by three dwarves in full battle gear. The three saluted as Thora emerged onto the roadway.

One, a deep-voiced woman who reminded Thora a bit of the Paragon Branka, stepped forward. "Paragon," she said, bowing. "It is an honor to see you in the Deep Roads."

Thora bowed in return. "I understand you know this is not a visit for pleasure?"

A second dwarf, heavily tattooed beneath a cap of blond curls, smirked at her. "What kind of nug-brain comes down here for fun?"

"Your kind, duster," Sigrun tossed back. She and the blond dwarf looked one another over for a moment, then nodded, clearly recognizing if not each other, then each other's Dust Town antecedents.

The deep-voiced woman looked at Thora kindly. "We received word from the King regarding your daughter, Paragon."

"Do you know where she is?" Thora's heart was in her throat, but the woman nodded gravely.

"They are far. We have a team with her. Edrick will take you to them." She motioned to the dwarf with the blond curls, who stepped forward.

"At your service, Paragon." Where the woman had used the title with reverence, Thora could hear the sneer in Edrick's tone. She didn't blame him—if it hadn't been for Duncan and the Grey Wardens, Thora would most likely have died, both in form and in fact, as part of the Legion long ago. She felt no need to extract obeisance from them now.

"Thank you, Edrick." Clasping an arm across her chest, she bowed to him.

Some of the challenge faded from his eyes as he nodded, then, beckoning to them, he turned. "Come along, then," he said. "Try and keep up."

Edrick led them through a number of passages where Thora, at least, had never been, and she looked around her at the lost and crumbling glory of her people with sorrowful eyes. In her mind's eye, she seemed to see the Deep Roads as they should be, filled with the light and noise of the Commons in Orzammar, and her throat constricted.

She didn't notice Edrick's eyes on her until he snorted and spat violently on the ground near her boots. "Sodding nobles," he said in disgust. "Never fails. You get 'em down here and they start mournin' for the glory days."

"Don't you?" she said challengingly, but she was grateful to him for pushing her thoughts off that doomed track.

He glared at her. "I'm too busy fightin' to hold every blighted inch of what's left to be all choked up about what's gone."

"You know," Anders put in mildly, but with steel under his light tone, "the Commander was instrumental in taking back Kal'Hirol, and holding that safe from the darkspawn."

"Oh, I know it," Edrick said. "Why you think I'm actually takin' you where I said? If she was some other noble, you'd all be headin' straight into the black and tainted mass of 'em, never to be heard from again." He chuckled, and set off ahead again at a more rapid pace, whistling cheerfully.

"Charming fellow," Anders said quietly. His hand fell to its accustomed place on Thora's shoulder, and she smiled up at him.

"He's bracing, I'll give him that."

The two of them chuckled softly, and Thora smiled to hear the lively chatter—mostly Sigrun's—of Sigrun and Jens behind her.

Eventually, Edrick led them to an old thaig which had been taken over by a cell of the Legion. A bald dwarf with his head covered in tattoos came forward and bowed deeply before Thora.

"Paragon, I'm sorry to see you here under such circumstances," he said.

"I'm sorry that it takes these circumstances to get me down here. The Legion and the Grey Wardens have the same duty—we should work more closely together." She thought of Kardol, who had stood so valiantly at her side when she defeated the Archdemon. "We owe you a debt that can never be repaid. All of Thedas does."

"Send us down some really good ale, and we'll call it even." The bald dwarf grinned at her, but then the smile faded. "But you're here for more than an exchange of pleasantries. Your girl is ahead. She's in good health, but low spirits. The 'Roads can be like that—some people they just drag down." He cast a keen eye over Thora. "You're none too chipper down here yourself," he remarked.

"No," Thora said. A vision of Laryn's bloated form appeared before her, and she shuddered. "Broodmothers," she said simply.

The bald dwarf nodded sympathetically. "Much as you might be in a hurry, I suggest a rest before we move on. In this condition, even if you caught up, you'd be no match for a woman who smells of lyrium as strong as that one. Powerful," he said.

"I can't stop," she protested. "There's no time to be lost. It's ... I owe it to the others, not to let the girls get away if I can help it."

Anders, his hand warm on her shoulder, shook his head. "I love Anawyn, too, but I don't have it in me to fight Flemeth, not right now. And neither do you."

"Fine," Thora said, near hysteria. "I'll go myself!" And she was on her way, marching forward with all the determination she had left, when she felt the great hands of Jens clamp down on her shoulders. He pulled her back, looking sorrowful but adamant, and led her to the bedroll Sigrun had already laid out.

"Sleep first," Jens said simply. "Fight later, and win."

The combination of his words and implacable opposition and her own weariness was too much to argue with. Thora lay down on the bedroll and was asleep almost immediately.