Aedan Of Highever

by Milton Garby

  "If I might make a suggestion?" Zevran piped in. He leaned over into the pirate's ear and whispered something Aedan couldn't make out, but whatever it was it seemed to get Isabela really excited. Really, really excited.

  "And…he's a Templar you say. All pent up and full of…anxiety?" Isabela asked lasciviously.

  "Like a cheating wife in a confessional." Zevran declared.

  "Alright, that seems more than fair. You'll get your game, Warden." The two of them sat at the table and shuffled their cards. Aedan lost the first hand, but he noticed Isabela quickly swiping some cards from the deck she shuffled. Her hands moved so quickly Aedan barely noticed them move in the dim light. But he was fast and observant, too. Suddenly Alistair was seen walking to the back room with his choice of woman wrapped around his arm. The Lay Warden if Aedan recalled correctly. A tall honey-haired woman with griffon tattoos adorning her alabaster flesh. A Grey Warden crest was designed in her generous cleavage and several griffons danced down along her smooth legs.

  For a brief instant filled with lustful curiosity, Isabela took her eyes of her cards and put them on the Lay Warden. In that instant Aedan was able to dexterously swipe several cards from her hand and replace them with less than helpful ones. "Alright, hands down." Isabela called. "And here I have…! Nothing? But I thought I had…?"

  "The Knight of Roses, and of Mercy and the Angels of Fortitude and Charity, and Black Serpent." And listed calmly hiding his triumphant gaze. "I win."

  "But those were…?" Isabela gasped. "How did you…? Wait a minute! Those are my cards! Did you swipe them from me without me noticing? That's the first time that's ever happened. You're more skilled than I could have anticipated."

  "Everything I learned about cards I learned from my good friend, Alistair." Aedan lied as he patted a confused Alistair on the shoulders.

  "Did you now?" Isabela asked intrigued. "Well, I'll be sure to teach him a thing or two." Isabela eagerly grabbed Alistair's other arm and dragged the Grey Warden, and the Lay Warden, into the back rooms.

  While his fellow Warden was going through "The Joining" the backroom, Aedan sat over at the bar next to Sanga who was pouring herself and Aedan a glass of Coustland scotch. "Tell me, Sanga. What has been going on in this city since Arl Howe took over?"

  Sanga's beautiful face curdled like sour milk at the mention of that name. "It's been very hard, Aedan. He's in control for only five mintues and the first thing he does is lead a purge on the Alienage. The elves were in a fit of outrage when Vaughn Kendalls kidnapped several women at a wedding and raped them. So the bridegroom and his kin paid the bastard a little visit. Then Howe puts the elves down like they did something wrong. Two of my employees were killed in the initial fighting."

  Aedan remembered Vaughn Kendalls. Remembered beating the living tar out of him at a tournament last time he was here. That miserable prick was always a real piece of work. The world was better off without him. "What else has Howe been doing in the city?"

  "When he's not taxing the blood out of people's lives he does absolutely nothing!" Sanga spat angrily. "His men come and go, and take what they please like they own the world! Some of them came in here demanding free services or they were going to rough my girls up. Sergeant Kylon does his best, but he's only one man, and the Arl makes his job a living hell. I swear Aedan, for many of us it feels like the Orlesians have returned." Sanga informed sadly. "I even here that the slimy bastard's dipping into the city's treasure to cover his own damned expenses."

  That vein in Aedan's forhead was starting to pound with anger. Rendon Howe was less fit to run an out house, let alone the capital city of Ferelden! He lets crime run rampant, even adds to the crime rate and now he's stealing the city's wealth!? "This can't go on, Sanga." Aedan said angrily. "Do you know of anyone I can talk to so I can stick it to that bastard?"

  Sanga's eyes lit up like candles. "Yes. Go to the Market District and ask for Kylon. He can tell you how to make the city a bit more secure. And while you're there look for a half-elf near the Chantry name of Slim Couldry. He can tell you exactly where to hurt Howe and his bootlicks right where it hurts."

  Later Isabela was seen hobbling happily out of the back room while the Lay Warden had to be carried out by one of the bouncers. Alistair, however, walked out of there with smile on his face and a spring in his step. Now he could die in the lowliest pit in the deep roads and have no regrets.

  Towards the end of the day...

  XoXoXo

  After a very long and very…..eventful day they all came back to Arl Eamon's estate. Everyone in the party agreed that after all that happened today getting a good nights sleep was the best plan. While on his way to his room Aedan walked by Wynne who had a concerned look on her face. "Is something wrong, Wynne?"

  "Yes. It's Leliana, I don't want ask what happened with her in the city today but whatever it was it made her very upset." She informd him. "When she came back here she was crying terribly and while I've done my best to console her she won't tell me what happened." Aedan thought for a moment. Apparently killing her former lover was much more difficult for Leliana than he thought but it was necessary. "Perhaps you should talk to her." The mage informed him.

  "Don't worry." Aedan said reassuringly. "I'm sure I can think of something that can help her." Wynne gave him a chuckle. "What? What's so funny?"

  "Nothing." Wynne answered. "It's just you seem to have a gift for helping us and giving us all hope when we need it most. I know you don't believe but sometimes I feel the Maker has put you on all of our paths to help us."

  Aedan gave his thanks to Wynne and decided to go see about talking to Leliana. What Aedan didn't know was that right now, while everyone was trying to get some rest all of his companions were thinking the same thing that Wynne had informed him; all were contemplating how The Warden had affected their lives in a positive manner.

  Wynne couldn't thank Aedan enough for how helped her, not just in saving the Circle when it would've been much easier to destroy it than rescue it. No, for helping her to find Aneirin when she believed him to be dead. After she told Aedan of her greatest regret he insisted on finding him so that she may have closure and find him they did, living amongst the Dalish as a healer. When she saw her former student alive in the forest and the man he had become all she could think about was how she was a dreadful mentor and that the pain Aneirin endured was her doing. Instead of hating her like she felt she deserved Aneirin had long forgiven her and moved on. Wynne felt a great burden lifted from her shoulders, like she could at last breath easy and not suffocate on her own guilt and it was thanks to Aedan persistence. Now when her time came to face the Maker she could do it without regrets, all she could do now was hope that Aedan would be able to live as long if not longer than her and continue to do great things.

  Oghren didn't quite know how he felt right now. He couldn't tell if he felt proud to know the Warden or if that was the hangover speaking. He allowed Oghren to come up to the surface to help fight the darkspawn when all the other great nobles of Orzammar wouldn't even spit in his direction, Stone, even Oghren wouldn't have recruited himself to fight a dying nug! But instead the Warden let him join his quest, he even helped him to find Felsi, the only woman in the whole sodding world who might even put up with him. Though he was kinda wishing Felsi never told Aedan how he lost that fight to a roasted nug. After finding Felsi, Aedan asked how he could have lost and he began laughing so hard the Ancestors heard him beneath the earth. Sod it all! He tried to tell the Warden how that fight was rigged! The cook must'a put some kind of enchantment on the thing! But the two of them laughed about it later. Yeah, he and Aedan were definitely battle brothers at this point. There was one thing, however, Oghren didn't understand about him; whd did all the ladies practically bow before him of all people!? How could all the surface women not see the exotic, dwarven glory that was Oghren Kondrat!?

  Sten had been mistaken, and that had never happen before, the Qun was always clear so this was something new for him. W
hen he first met the Grey Warden he thought little of him, he didn't seem to understand his own Order and seemed more interested in getting involved in other matters that had nothing to do with combating the Blight. Not to mention he seemed to revel in being a barbarian and that he….copulated on a regular basis with an unchecked mage clearly stated he was not fit for his role. From what he has seen the Warden was a great warrior, yes, but warriors are meant to fight battles not play diplomat or solve petty grievances. Yet, despite the constant detours and various other nonsense he managed to assemble the army he needed to fight the Archdemon and all the while he even managed to find Sten's sword, Asala. When they had returned to Redcliffe they went to the Dwarf, Dwynn, and he was more than happy to give it back so long as they left him alone and then for the first time since his imprisonment in Lothering Sten felt worthy of standing amongst the beresaad once more. Yes, he had been mistaken, the Warden was truly someone worthy of following. He came to this cold, barbaric, stinking country to answer the Arishok's question and Sten knew he probably wouldn't live to give him the answer but if he did die he would do so proudly fighting alongside this Grey Warden named Aedan.

  Aedan had just left her room after they had their discussion and Leliana couldn't help but feel that he was right. When she went to Lothering to find peace and quiet all she was really doing was running away, fearful of what she truly is; a bard. Aedan informed her that by her logic the Maker made the world dangerous, and while she disagreed with the Warden's sentiment about the Maker being an uncaring god perhaps she can spread his light by fighting against the dangers that would block out the Maker's light. Marjolaine may have taught her all she knew in the bardic arts and the deep intricacies of the Grand Game but that doesn't mean she had to follow the same selfish and hedonistic lifestyle Marjolaine had led. Now full with renewed confidence in both herself and her faith she could assist her friends in ending the Blight, and afterwards? Well, maybe Andraste can guide her to her next journey, She already guided her to the Wardens. She would always be thankful to Dorothea and the Chantry for teaching her the Light of Andraste and the compassion of the Maker, but she would grateful most of all to Aedan for showing her who she truly was.

  Caridin gave Shale her body, but after countless centuries of being a weapon, a puppet, and a shit-frosted statue the Warden had given her a purpose. Being a golem hasn't exactly made her life fulfilling, yet these soft creatures of flesh found more purpose in their short, fragile lifespans than she had since her forging, and for the first time since being animated she felt something very strange. The Warden obviously knew the benefits of being a golem from seeing what she can do, yet It stood up against the Mad Dwarf what used the Drunken Dwarf's wife even though It meant losing an entire army of golems. While she approved she felt….grateful that the Warden didn't wish to inflict on others the fate of being a slave to control rods as she had once been. Why does the Warden choose to take the more difficult road even the it would be easier to just crush everything that stood in It's way. Perhaps It did all of these thing because It could feel. For the briefest of moment Shale began to feel, what others could describe as envious, of the Warden for It's ability to feel not just pain and sickness but all the other soft, squishy emotions that made the mortal creatures so stupid, even wishing that she was mortal once again. As quickly as the thought came it went, there was nothing to do about it now. For now Shale's purpose was to kill the darkspawn and end the Blight, then she would begin looking for a new purpose to fight for.

  At last he was free. While they were carrying out the last of the Ignacio's missions to rescue a noble's kidnapped son from Chase, Arl Howe's captain, they had the luck of running into Taliesin, once Zevran's closest thing to a friend. Taliesin had volunteered to finish the mission Zevran had failed to complete, but for old time's sake he tried to convince the whoreson to come back into the fold of the Crows, they could kill the Wardens, make up a story and go back to Antiva. But Aedan had done more for Zevran in the short time he had known him than the Crows had his entire life! He was not going turn on the Wardens now. With passing regret he killed his former brother and that's when he told Aedan of the unfortunate story of him and Rinna. How on his last mission for the Crows he had killed the only woman who truly understood him and that he had come to Ferelden not looking for his next target but for his own death. Aedan had forgiven him for the attempt on his and Alistair's lives because now he was here assisting him against the Blight and should they succeed they will have saved the lives of not only the people of Ferelden but the whole world as well. Yes, now he was free. With Taliesin dead the Crows will likely assume he died as well, now no longer tied down by the leash of the assassins' guild that bound him and no longer burdened by the guilt that made him feel empty, he could pursue his own destiny in the world. But first he would help the Warden's meet theirs and assist them in driving the darkspawn back down whatever cesspool they came from.

  Alistair was lying down on his bed trying to get some sleep but failing. While he was tired after that...magnificent event at the Pearl, his mind was full of different thoughts...for once. Ever since he and Aedan had their talk after seeing Goldanna he thought that his brother-at-arms was right; he needs to start thinking for himself and about what he truly wants out of life and quit relying on others to give him the directions he needs. He was getting pretty tired of expecting so much from others only to be disappointed by them, like with both of his half-siblings and the Chantry. He had let his whole life be ran by how other people wanted it to be. Eamon had sent him to the Chantry at the behest of his wife, and the Chantry wanted to make him a Templar, despite how unhappy it made him. He grew up ashamed of his status as Maric's bastard because his very existence meant the legendary Savior of Ferelden was fallible. He can no longer pine about what Duncan or Maric would've done in his situation, he needs to think about what he can do with what he's learned. Truth be told, though, what did Alistair want? Eamon and Aedan were going to make him king, there was no avoiding that, the only alternative was Anora who currently failing at the job and seemed more than happy to let her father do all the ruling, like what Alistair might've done. Now that Alistair thought about it there was some good things he could do as king. He had seen what kind of a state his country was in and knew exactly what was needed to fix it and thanks to Aedan example he also knew that you gotta be willing to make hard descisions that would break most people. There was no help in thinking about that right now, first they had to think about how they were going to remove Loghain from power so that they might end the Blight, they can worry about him ruling the country after they have saved it. For right now, however, sleeping sounded much more appealing.

  The young Witch of the Wilds sat alone on her bed gently caressing the gilded mirror Aedan had given her. She still didn't understand how this mirror could mean more to her than her mother's Grimoire that sat on her night stand. Flemeth's Grimoire possessed power and knowledge that even the Archons of Tevinter would wage war over, yet it meant less to her than the mirror she was cradling like a lost treasure. Morrigan felt a warmth and joy she had never known whenever she held this mirror in her hands, and as much as she wanted to always hold it she couldn't help but want to be rid of it. Instead of cradling this damn trinket she should have been unlocking the powers and secrets of her mother's tome. Whenever she held the mirror, she wanted nothing but to be held in Aedan's arms and feel his breath and kisses on her skin. To feel that warmth and joy only he could provide. How could she be so weak? After everything Flemeth had taught her she should have been immune to such things, yet Aedan...? Just the thought of Aedan being close to her made her want throw everything she had been planning away. Morrigan remembered when Aedan asked her about where their relationship was going she was stunned. Did it need to go anywhere? Was what they had not enough? Yet, she couldn't help but want more herself. Would a life with him be so bad? To have a home and children of her own with him? Morrigan pushed the invading thought from her mind. She would not fall victi
m to this weakness. She had a purpose, a goal, and she would not let some misbegotten infatuation steer her from her course! Morrigan held the mirror over her head, determined to smash it on the ground as her mother had done so long ago, but her arms froze against her will, as if something else was commanding her not to. Was this weakness truly stronger than her own will? Morrigan tearfully stuffed the mirro back into her bag before this weakness could overtake her. She stubbornly sat in front of her night stand and began reading Flemeth's Grimoire in the hopes that its secret knowledge could drown out this feeling that was building up inside her. She had to stay focused on her goal, no matter how much she wanted Aedan to hold her or how much her heart was breaking to be away from him.

  Sleep would not come to the former nobleman. Aedan's mind was filled with thoughts of revenge. He was filled with anxiety and brimming with rage. Rendon Howe, his father's friend and betrayer was so close yet he may as well be in Par Vollen. Protected by the authority of his stolen titles and power of a corrupted teryn, Howe abused the rights and privileges that were unrightfully his. He allowed the capital city of their country to be overrun with crime and corruption, an infestation of blood-mages even took root in the heart of the city! He even dared to use the Cousland's ancestral home to smuggle their people's wealth! Thoughts of all the horrifying methods of pain and torture danced in Aedan's head macabre festival of bloody imagination. "Soon, very soon." He told himself. His mouth salivated at the thought of feasting on Rendon Howe's suffering like a buffet from hell, no matter what titles or how many men Howe hid behind. Aedan's eyes finally drifed to sleep and dreamed of Howe's blood splashing on his face and his still beating heart pumping in Aedan's deathly grasp. Revenge was soon going to be his and Aedan's family's souls would be at peace.

  Judgement Day Part I

  Anora paced her royal bedroom back and forth while Erlina watched attentively. How could things have gotten so terrible? She had such high hopes and dreams for this country when she married Cailan. She wished he was here now. Ever since they were children, no matter how bad things were, he was always able to make her smile. Just the thought of her dead husband hurt her. She would never again see his handsome smile or hear that heartfelt laughter. But now Cailan was dead and everything they accomplished together was being unraveled like a spool of yarn.