When Fate Summons (a Dragon Age fanfiction)

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The company staggered into Redcliffe Village, exhausted from the grueling pace they'd taken down from the mountains. After such a long time essentially cut off from the rest of the kingdom, it was a shock to return to the bustling little town. Owen, the blacksmith, was crossing the town square with an armload of weapons to be repaired when he caught sight of the group of them. The weaponry fell to the ground as Owen ran toward the group, shouting out, "The King! The King is back!" He went down on one knee before Alistair, bowing his head.

"Owen, please, stand up," Alistair said. He tried to summon up a smile for the blacksmith. "How's your daughter?"

"Happy as a lark, Majesty! Got another little 'un, just born last month."

"Congratulations. Is Arl Teagan at the castle?"

"He is, ser. He'll be right happy to see you, I'll bet. There've been rumors ..." Owen's voice trailed off, and he looked from Alistair to Thora and back again, then gave a troubled glance at Morrigan, his cheeks reddening. "Foolishness, Your Majesty," he said. "All foolishness."

Thora looked up at the blacksmith, troubled by his discomfort and his unwillingness to look her in the eye. "Owen, is there something you're not saying?"

"Er, no, ser. Foolishness." He fumbled with the weapons on the ground, trying to stack them all in his arms again. "Must get back to these," he said hastily. "Your Majesty, if you'll excuse me?" Alistair nodded, and Owen scuttled back to the smithy.

Other citizens were crowding around the group now, looking curiously at the two little girls. Thora caught more than one suspicious glance thrown her way, and Morrigan's reception was bordering on hostile. What exactly did the villagers think was going on? It could be anything, she thought, her heart sinking. As if they didn't have enough problems. She sighed heavily, leading the way up the hill toward the castle, hoping Teagan would be able to explain what was going on.

As they approached the castle gates, the familiar tall figure of Ser Perth came forward to greet them. He studied Alistair carefully. "Your Majesty," he said, bowing. "Is everything all right here?"

"More or less," Alistair answered cautiously. Perth hadn't even glanced in Thora's direction, or at Leliana. And Perth and Leliana had been on-again off-again numerous times over the years. A lack of any greeting at all was distinctly disturbing. "Is everything all right here?"

Perth swallowed. "There have been ... rumors," he said. "Perhaps you had best speak with the Arl."

"Perhaps we had," Alistair said. He motioned to Jens to go on ahead. Perth's eyes followed the big man with the little girl in his arms, then settled on Cybele. He fell in behind the group, looking concerned.

In the great hall, Teagan was waiting in front of the fireplace. An expression of relief crossed his face as they all came in, but it changed quickly to confusion and then worry as he beheld their bedraggled state and Anawyn's limp body.

"Alistair, Thora," he said. "Is everything all right? You wouldn't believe the things we've heard."

"I want to know everything," Alistair said firmly, "but first, we need to impose upon your hospitality."

"Of course," Teagan said with a courtly bow. "Whatever you need, my people will see to it. Would it be possible for the two of you to meet me in my office at your convenience?" Alistair and Thora nodded, exchanging a distressed glance.

"Oghren, Xandros, the two of you please go with Morrigan and Cybele. Anders and Sigrun, with Jens and Anawyn. Be careful. I don't like the looks we've been getting," Thora said quietly. They all nodded, following Teagan's servants into the castle.