Official Disclaimer: I do not own any of the non-original characters or non-original plotline concepts contained below and a brief glance at my checking account can quickly confirm that I am making no money whatsoever on such fanfiction. Obviously, Bioware owns all Dragon Age: Origins characters and main storylines. I just want to borrow and play with them for a while before returning them (relatively worse for the wear, I'm sure). Well, maybe I'll return most of them. David Gaider may have to mount a rescue party to come drag Loghain from out of my cold, dead fingers.

This fic is rated M for mature due to mild language, violence, and adult situations. Honestly, it's not gonna get any worse than what you could find at 8 p.m. flipping through cable and network channels.

Special thanks go out to Phaonica, my beta, who has done a most excellent job of helping me make certain scenes read more clearly (among other improvements) and for keeping me motivated and thinking someone besides just myself might actually enjoy these scribblings of mine. I couldn't ask for a better or more dedicated "constructive cheerleader"!

"Have you the courage to duel me yourself, Warden?" Loghain sneered, dark brows furrowing.

Kallian Tabris knew that she did. She had seen and done so many incredible, frightening things since the day Duncan had offered her absolution in the wake of her crimes, as justified as they felt to her even after a year's worth of campside reflection. The fact of the matter was that she had killed an arl's son and a good portion of his guards, and that meant certain execution. Ever since being given that second chance - and subsequently surviving the battle of Ostagar, a place where she honestly should have died with the other Grey Wardens - she felt like she was living on borrowed time and often acted as such, flinging herself into the heart of the battle and fighting toe-to-toe with the darkspawn, against every good instinct that should normally govern a stealthy rogue. The sight of her charging an ogre for a full frontal assault often served to inspire and rally the ragtag team of fighters she'd collected and, more often than not, vaguely horrified any bystanders being rescued. Word had spread far and fast of her battlefield prowess, unconventional and lunatic as it was, and her good deeds planted the seeds of doubt in many a Fereldan that perhaps their Hero of River Dane was mistaken in condemning the Grey Wardens.

In truth, much of her strength stemmed from the closely-knit group she'd formed around her: the almost-templar-turned-Grey Warden Alistair, pure of heart and powerful with shield; the intimidating and destructive swamp witch, Morrigan; the loyal and foreboding Mabari warhound, Daveth, named in honor of a Grey Warden recruit who had not survived the Joining; the beautiful but deadly bard, Leliana; the strong and silent qunari, Sten; the former Antivan Crow, Zevran, as sleek and silky as a finely-crafted poison; the wise and grandmotherly healer, Wynne; and the ale-guzzling, yet formidable, axe-wielding dwarf, Oghren. They gave her more than just their skills and blades - they gave her emotional support as well, even if it was something not always openly admitted by the city elf. Simply knowing they were there to fall back on gave her the stamina to surge forward and lead.

She had travelled to every corner of Ferelden with the ancient Grey Warden treaties, receiving oaths of army commitments from King Harrowmont and the dwarves of Orzammar, First Enchanter Irving and the Circle of Magi, and Arl Eamon and his forces at Redcliffe. The Dalish, however, had given her a little more than just a pledge of aid. They had offered her a home amongst their clan, if she so desired after the Blight was ended, and rewarded her lifting of the werewolves' curse by honoring her with blood writing. Having been a city elf raised in the Alienage, surrounded by humans but wistfully dreaming of her wild cousins, she almost worshipfully accepted and bade them decorate her face with a tribute to her order - facial tattoos that resembled a griffon's beak on her forehead and griffon wings upon her cheeks.

She and her party had spent the last year not just battling darkspawn and preparing to face the inevitable appearance of the Archdemon, but having to also outsmart and outmanuever Loghain's forces. Loghain, who gave Kallian emotions so mixed that she dare not share them even with Alistair, her closest friend and brother-in-arms. Loghain, who was a hero amongst the shemlen to such an extent that it was impossible to grow up a city elf in Denerim and not know of his sacrifices to free Ferelden from Orlais. Loghain, who at one time had also been a sort of folk hero to the Alienage elves because of his creation of the Night Elves, a band of city elves like themselves who he'd trusted to fight at his side against the Orlesians. Loghain, who had retreated at Ostagar and left the king, his troops, and the Grey Wardens to die at the hands of the darkspawn horde - and yet she couldn't help but have doubts and second-guessings that the battle was lost long before Loghain's forces fled. Loghain, who had branded the Grey Wardens as traitors and put a bounty on the head of her and Alistair and all who aided them. Loghain, who had Arl Eamon poisoned to keep him from interfering with the politics surrounding the late King Cailan. Loghain, who had allowed Howe to run amuck and unchecked, resulting in not only countless imprisonments and tortures - including that of fellow Grey Warden Riordan - but also the shipping of elves into Tevinter slavery from her own Alienage, not the least of which was her hahren, Valendrian, and nearly included her own father, Cyrion. Loghain, who haunted her thoughts alongside the darkspawn as a threat, but yet lacking the undeniable pure evil of the beasts.

And now it had all come down to this. A year's worth of fighting and travelling had led her to the Landsmeet. She had won the nobles' votes easily by focusing her arguments on the Blight at hand and the under-handed dealings Howe had engaged in under Loghain's once-good name - and it was disappointing, yet entirely unsurprising, that they were little moved by what had been allowed to happen to the Alienage. But just as she had expected, Loghain would not go down easily.

"Well?" Loghain prompted, shaking Kallian from her thoughts. "What will it be, Warden?"

Kallian glanced back at her companions. She met Alistair's eyes and saw him mouth at her to pick him, pretty please pick him. She tore her gaze away and looked at Wynne, who simply inclined her head in a slow nod. Zevran smiled warmly and winked at her. She would never ask any of them to fight in her place, but having their quiet support helped fill her with hope. Despite all the battles she had endured - not the least of which involved dueling the positively gargantuan wall of muscle that was Sten - Kallian felt the cold taste of trepidation on her tongue and the heavy weight of worry in the pit of her stomach. After all, she was just a small, lightweight rogue who had defied all odds through sheer force of will and blind luck now forced to face an intimidating and imposing man who had been fully engaged in, and also leading, battles for longer than she had been alive, a master military strategist encased in piercingly shiny chevalier armor wrested from his greatest conquered foe. If she lost this duel, everything would be lost; her life would be forfeit, her companions would be imprisoned if not executed, and Loghain's obsessive paranoia and preoccupation with Orlais would allow the Archdemon's Blight to swallow up Ferelden and possibly spread even further to other nations abroad. Whether he be a true enemy or simply a misguided veteran, Loghain had to finally be stopped by her now. Failure was not an option.

The Warden gulped quietly to herself and stepped forward, making a conscience effort to stand up straight and doing her best to look as worthy of battle with the Hero of River Dane as possible. She silently prayed that Isabela's duelist training would serve her well now that she was facing her first true one-on-one duel - and against a stronger and more experienced opponent, no less. "I will fight you," she finally answered, almost surprising herself with the amount of challenge and conviction she managed to muster into the reply.

Loghain curtly inclined his head towards her and stepped forward. "'A man is made by the quality of his enemies.' Maric told me that once. I wonder if it's more a compliment to you or me?"

The assembled Landsmeet audience crowded in around them, forming a tight circle around Kallian and Loghain. A nobleman stood up in the balcony of banns and addressed the crowd and the duelists. "The rules of this duel are as follows," he announced. "Each participant will fight the other until one of the two should yield. The assembly will side with the victor of this duel."

With that, Loghain took a step towards Kallian and lowered his shield down in front of him, locking his gaze on her and taking a circling step to his right. Kallian matched him, bending her knees and stooping forward slightly in her battle stance, staring in his direction and stepping towards her right so that the two of them could properly circle each other. They circled like that for several moments, each sizing up the other. Keeping his icy, blue eyes locked with Kallian's warm, brown ones, Loghain slowly reached his right hand towards his longsword. Kallian matched his movement by reaching both of her hands toward her daggers, lightly fingering the pommels in anticipation. In one quick motion, Loghain unsheathed his sword and brought it up ready alongside his shield. Kallian followed his lead and unveiled her weapons of choice: her red Beastman dagger - which was more like a small, brutally serrated sword than a true dagger - spouting icy frost into the air from its cold enchantment in her left hand and Fang - a small, curved dagger that had once belonged to her mother, Adaia, that her father had given her - enchanted with a chance of paralysis rune clutched in her right hand, looking for all the world like a simple, uncharmed dagger.

Finally, Loghain charged towards Kallian with his shield leading the way, letting out a bestial warcry that nearly froze her in place as her blood ran cold. She managed to come to her senses in time to leap to the side just moments before his longsword could impale her. Loghain turned quickly to follow her dodge, slashing forward with his sword. The elf leapt backwards out of his reach again and tried to circle quickly around to his backside. Loghain was prepared for such a maneuver and merely pivoted in place, making sure to constantly face the Warden with his shield at the ready.

Kallian weighed her options. Loghain was suited in very thick, durable heavy armor. Despite the weight it must put on him, he was quick and lithe enough to keep up with her prowling stance, not allowing her to slip behind for a quick backstab between the metal plating. Indeed, it was obvious he was expecting that from her. His rather large shield looked ominous, promising a quick, disorienting concussion should he manage to bash her with it even just once. She mentally kicked herself for leaving her set of Wade's superior drakeskin armor back in her room at the Arl of Redcliffe's estate, having not anticipated the possibilitiy of a real fight breaking out. Dressed as she was in simple, light leather armor, Loghain's longsword would not have to work hard to run her through. In fact, about the only thing she'd done right was at least bring her weapons and to have already tied her copper hair back out of her face in a ponytail. Her mind raced with possible tactics. Her usual modus operandi, a full frontal assault, would not last very long for a rogue like her against such a champion warrior. To bring down a veteran as tough and experienced as Loghain, she would need to be able to strike at his weak points and pray it would be enough to wear him down.

Hoping that youth and quick feet would give her some advantage, Kallian began darting forwards and backwards in and out of his range, practically taunting him to strike at her. Perhaps if she could get Loghain to expend energy trying to follow her movements and striking at thin air, she could start to wear him down and take advantage of his fatigue, much like how a wolf can wear down a massive buck three times its size by getting it to overthink and overcompensate, eventually exhausting and disorienting the buck enough that it becomes easier to bring down.

And so began the dance, Kallian pouncing forward and thrusting a quick stab in his direction with her large dagger while Loghain would block with his shield or catch her frosty, red blade with his own and slide it off and away harmlessly, the ringing sound of steel-on-steel echoing around them; Loghain thrusting forward with his weight to try and knock her to the ground while Kallian would deftly spin and sidestep away, each time coming just a bit closer to reaching a gap in his armor with her ever-searching smaller dagger.

After what felt like ages, the Warden began to finally see some success. While Loghain's eyes were still just as intense and alert as they had been since the Landsmeet began, she could hear his breathing start to pick up to a more rapid pace. The dead weight in her stomach lightening ever so slightly, Kallian feigned a strike to Loghain's left. When he moved his shield to block and stepped back with his right leg to brace for the blow, the Warden suddenly changed direction. She instead surged to his right and jammed her small dagger into his upper, inner thigh, where a small gap in the armor allowed for his leg to pivot freely just below the hip. Loghain cried out in surprise and practically jumped backwards, pulling free of the dagger and glancing down to see just how close her strike had come to being much more serious than piercing only his leg.

Loghain glared back up at her with an utterly scandalized look. "Warden," he said, his tone deadly, "while most anything goes in this duel, I'd appreciate a gentlemen's agreement not to strike below the belt."

Kallian shot him a rather sheepish expression. "Um," she answered, "sorry?"

"Good enough," he snapped back, then caught the elf off-guard with a quick shield bash.

Kallian stumbled backwards, stunned, her head instantly throbbing and stars fluttering in front of her eyes. Before she could regain her senses, Loghain made her pay again with another bash, sending the Warden tumbling backwards onto the floor. The world suddenly slowed down as the wind was knocked completely out of her. Painfully and in agonizing slowness, the Warden turned her head to her left and was surprised to see she was still clutching her Beastman dagger tightly. Then, as if having to push against a strong, gale-force wind, she turned her head to the right. She was again surprised to see her right hand also still clutching its dagger. She also faintly registered the fact that a rather fuzzy-looking Alistair - whose blindingly shiny Armor of Diligence hurt her blurry vision - had his sword drawn and was being roughly held at bay by Loghain's guards. Beside him, confusingly going in and out of focus, Zevran stared at her and wildly gesticulated to something. He was also obviously trying to shout something at her, but everything sounded far away and distorted as if she were underwater. When breath suddenly and finally returned to her - oh, how sharp and painful that felt, like a million tiny daggers piercing her lungs! - the Warden lifted her groggy head to look up and was confused to see two of Loghain charging at her crumpled form. Wheezing and breathing heavily, Kallian quickly rolled out of both their paths, just to be sure. She shook her head, trying to clear it and gain back some focus, and scrambled back up on her feet.

Loghain pressed forward once more like a shark sensing blood in the water. He was still jiggling in and out of focus from her viewpoint. The sweat dripping into her eyes didn't help matters much either. She swiped the back of her hand across her forehead quickly and was surprised to see blood on it. The shield bash must have cut up her forehead in addition to giving her a mild concussion. Lovely, she thought sarcastically. Well, let's try and return the favor, at least. Then we can both fight blind. In desperation, she employed a bit of dirty fighting when he drew near enough, striking at his face with the butt of her hand and pommel of her dagger. It was a direct hit. Loghain staggered back, now his turn to be stunned as blood began dripping from his nose. Kallian seized the opportunity and half-blindly swung her fist at his head again. Fortunately for Loghain the small dagger she was clutching missed his scalp by a whisper, but one of her finger joints still popped him right in the eye and her ring cut a gash just above his left eyebrow.

Loghain growled at her, furious that she had seemingly gotten the upper hand as blood now poured freely from his broken nose, began to drip into his blackening left eye, and ran warmly down his right leg from her first connected strike. He stepped towards her and began swinging his longsword in broad arcs in front of him, forcing her further back towards the audience gathered at the edge of their dueling circle and keeping her at bay. He wasn't sure he half-cared if his wild swings caught a few onlookers by accident, just as long as he could strike down that upstart Grey Warden and bring an end to the madness she'd spread throughout Ferelden.

When she couldn't back up any further, Loghain grinned triumphantly. He drew his swordarm back to deliver the final blow. Mere moments before his downstroke, Kallian dove towards the floor and somersaulted, leaving Loghain's longsword biting uselessly at the space she had just occupied. The Warden quickly rolled over onto her back, just behind Loghain, and viciously kicked at the back of his left knee. He fell backwards and she rolled out of the way in time not to become pinned underneath him in the process. Before he could recover, she pounced on top of him and, straddling his stomach, drove her smaller dagger into the gap in his armor around his right shoulderblade. Furrowing her brow and baring her teeth like a beast, Kallian savagely twisted the blade and rooted around, opening the wound as much as she could to try and take his dominant arm out of the fight. Loghain cried out in pain and anger. Then, the chance of paralysis rune kicked into action and left his entire right arm feeling dead and heavy. His longsword loudly clattered as it fell uselessly to the floor.

Quickly realizing how desperate his situation had become, Loghain drew from his well of reserve strength and determination and angrily flipped Kallian off of him, switching it so that now he straddled her and pinned her to the floor with his shield protectively separating them. They both squirmed and grunted as they scrapped on the ground, Kallian trying to wriggle her way out from underneath his crushing weight and Loghain struggling to keep her pinned so she couldn't injure him any further. The Warden kicked out with both legs, but only connected with heavy armor. She tried to slip at least one of her arms free, but both were trapped tight against her body by Loghain's shield. She thrashed right and left, but he kept steady and firm pressure on top of her.

Both opponents appeared visibly exhausted, their breathing equally quick and ragged. Loghain glared at the Warden with narrowed, bloodshot eyes; her own answered wide with a hint of fright creeping in at the edges. Kallian feared she would pass out from lack of air shortly if she couldn't find a way to roll his weight off of her.

Face close to hers and nearly panting, Loghain rasped, "It's over, Warden. Do you yield?"

Growling like a trapped animal, Kallian spat. "I'll never yield to you, Loghain. Never!"

"Now that's a bit melodramatic," he chastised almost breathlessly, "don't you think?"

With nothing else free to move, she tried the most unconventional tactic she could think of: she thrusted her head up as fast as she could and headbutted Loghain as hard as possible. They both cried out in pain. However, Kallian recovered first and the move proved distracting enough that she was able to wriggle out from under him.

Loghain was not far behind. He managed to scramble back onto his feet again, though he now swayed unsteadily and favored his injured right leg and arm, underneath which a rather sizeable pool of blood had begun to collect. Sweaty, bloody, and still vaguely disoriented from the shield bashes and the headbutt, Kallian had otherwise managed to come through largely uninjured while Loghain looked very pale and none-too-healthy standing opposite her. It was the Warden's turn to sense her advantage in the duel and she cocked her head to one side, idlely wondering if she had managed to accidentally nick an artery in his shoulder. Her mind quickly sensed that it was nearing time to finally put this fight to bed for both their sakes'.

The Warden rushed towards Loghain once more. He raised his shield with his still-good left arm to deflect her and possibly attempt another punishing bash. Instead, Kallian slipped to his partially-paralyzed and injured right side, cast aside her Beastman dagger - which was just too large to try and penetrate the narrow armor gaps - and transferred the small Fang dagger to her left hand in its place. Grabbing ahold of Loghain's paralyzed right shoulder to anchor herself as she halted her charge, she pivoted on her heel and slipped behind him for the backstab. Being right-handed, it was a bit awkward using her left hand to drive the dagger into the back of his left knee, but she managed to hit the small slit in the armor and drove the blade home.

Everything from his knee down suddenly felt heavy with paralysis. Unable to stand with both legs injured, Loghain fell roughly to his knees with a keening groan of pain, disbelief, and defeat. He let his shield fall to the floor to join his abandoned longsword. Panting heavily from the exertion, he gazed up at Kallian with tired eyes as she circled back around to face him. She had retrieved the large, brutal-looking dagger and held it ready in her right hand, he noticed, and he hid his slight feeling of wariness and trepidation well. Despite her own ragged breathing and weariness, she stood tall before him and looked down, locking eyes with him.

"I yield, Warden!" Loghain gasped, holding up his non-paralyzed left hand in surrender, struggling to balance his position on his knees. "I had thought you a child trying to play at war, but I was wrong. There's a strength in you I've not seen since Maric died." With that, he bowed his head and stared at the floor, awaiting the Warden's decision on his fate.

Kallian felt a little light-headed at it all, even as she also felt Wynne's healing magic coursing through her and repairing her injuries. She could scarcely believe that this brutal duel was finally ended and that she had come out the victor. Loghain had proven to be an incredibly strong and resilient opponent. What will happen to him now? she wondered. She knew she was about to put Alistair and Anora on the throne together, which meant Loghain would no longer be regent. She certainly knew what Alistair expected and the Warden mentally kicked herself for never having voiced her doubts and concerns to him before now. She had always remained silent whenever Alistair talked about vengeance against Loghain and it seemed clear, now that the "ideal moment" he always ranted on about had arrived, that her silence had been taken as consent and agreement on the matter.

But she didn't really know where she stood, to be perfectly honest. Loghain had certainly been a gigantic nuisance to them for almost a year and had done rather questionable and damning things in regards to Ostagar and its aftermath. What he'd allowed to happen in the Alienage was her biggest source of fury. However, after having killed so many others in the name of vengeance over the past year, she felt not one bit better about any of it. The threat of the Blight had caused her to realign her priorities; where she might have rather easily ended Loghain's life had he pulled such a stunt back before she was a Grey Warden, she now felt content with having simply beaten him, both figuratively and quite literally. The more rational part of her mind whispered that he possessed so many strengths that could still be an asset to Ferelden, if he could finally be swayed to see reason now that he was defeated. For that reason alone it seemed a shame that she should be forced to execute him.

And what of Anora, who stood off to the Warden's right and wore a rather apprehensive expression? Hadn't Kallian promised to find a way to spare her father if Anora agreed to marry Alistair and support them in the Landsmeet? So far, the queen had upheld her end of the bargain. Kallian remembered all too well what it felt like to see a parent struck down before her very eyes, could still feel the horror of being covered in her mother's blood after the filthy shems had slit her throat as if they were putting down a rabid, dangerous dog in the street. Could she honestly inflict that same torment on someone else?

"Well?" Alistair asked expectantly from behind. "What are you waiting for?"

She turned around and stared at Alistair for a moment. He gave her a rather impatient look and motioned towards where Loghain kneeled. Next to him stood Wynne, who gazed at her sympathetically but otherwise offered none of her usual sage advise. Zevran merely shrugged. Kallian turned back around, feeling completely and utterly lost and alone despite the sea of people around her. Why, she wondered, can't imprisonment be an option? But she had a feeling Loghain was no creature to brook being penned in against his will.

"Look, if you can't do it, then let me," offered Alistair. "Hasn't that monster caused us enough pain and grief? Caused all of Ferelden enough pain and grief?" At that, Loghain looked up as if he'd suddenly been pierced once more by a dagger.

Kallian felt the sudden urge to turn around and slap Alistair, but swallowed it back down. He was right, after all. Loghain had caused much pain and grief since their first meeting at Ostagar. Yet, even though Loghain had made himself a terrible thorn-in-the-side to them all, she felt no overwhelming desire to kill him now like she had that bastard Vaughan. But I guess I don't really have a choice, she sighed inwardly. So, she re-tightened the grip on her Beastman dagger and tried to summon up the willpower. Tried thinking of how it felt in those first few moments when the darkspawn stormed the top of the Tower of Ishal, when Loghain's abandonment felt the most terrible on a personal level - although they knew nothing of his desertion at that time until after the battle. Tried to think of all the nights she had gently held Alistair by the campfire, trying to comfort his sobs for Duncan. Tried to think of the anger she felt when bandits, of all people, outside of Lothering told her the Grey Wardens were being blamed for the Ostagar massacre, per Loghain's word. Tried to think of how offended she was to learn Loghain had hired an assassin to take out her and Alistair. Tried to rekindle her disgust and rage at discovering Loghain had signed off on shipping her neighbors, her hahren, her father off into Tevinter slavery; dredging back up the very moment she'd first spotted Cyrion crammed into a small cage and packed in from all sides by elves she'd grown up knowing her whole life.

The Warden narrowed her eyes with a pained look and she shakingly drew the dagger back, winding it up for one fatal, bloody sweep. A defeated yet accepting look creapt into Loghain's eyes and he bowed his head again, waiting for the final blow. From the corner of her eye, she saw Anora - the most heart-breaking expression on her tear-streaked face - start to step forward as if to stand by her father's side in his final moments. She saw Ser Cauthrien gently grab the queen by the shoulders and hold her back, looking rather pained herself.

Then she heard Anora cry out. "No! Please, you promised..." A short, choking pause. "You promised, Warden. Please... father..."

"Anora," Loghain rasped. "Don't do this. You have to be strong. This is the way it has to be."

Hitched breaths from the queen; then, "I love you, father."

A pause. A gulp. "I love you, too, Anora."

There was a very palpable moment of silence after that. Then, the crashing sound of the Warden throwing her blade down to the ground. "I will not be a part of this travesty," she said defiantly through the lump in her throat. "If Loghain has to die in order for anything to be resolved politically, then forget this Landsmeet! It's over. I'm done. If it's not asking too much, I have a Blight to go stop now." And with that, she spun and started to stomp back to her party. Loghain looked back up with wide eyes and eyebrows shot up in surprise.

Alistair stepped forward with a cold mask over his face and unsheathed Oathkeeper, which crackled and buzzed lightly from its lightning enchantment. "Fine, I'll do it. Never thought I'd see the day when you'd chicken out on your duty."

Kallian stopped in her tracks and sidestepped to intercept her fellow Grey Warden. "Excuse me?" she hissed, inches from his face. "I don't recall part of my duty as a Grey Warden involving slaying people's parents in front of them. To think, all this time I've been fooled into believing it was about stopping the Blight and killing the Archdemon. Silly me!"

"That bastard," Alistair argued, pointing at Loghain, who was now watching the sudden turn of events quite avidly, "has stood in our way of doing just that for the past year. You've cut down anyone else who stood in our way. Or have you forgotten?"

"Not if they genuinely surrendered... or had you forgotten that?" Kallian seethed, looking rather offended by his remark. "Besides, this is different, Alistair," she said through gritted teeth, fighting hard to keep from crying. It was her one real weak point, despite all her strengths. There was just no way to stem the tears in some situations, even if she didn't allow them to actually interfere with her words and actions; they would still start to fall and betray her, like rebels all their own. She determined it would not happen this time. She had to stand her ground.

"How is it any different?" spat Alistair. "This isn't some carta thug who grew up knowing nothing else or a bandit trying to rob passersby in order to feed his family!" He shook his head in frustration. "Look, Kal, what happened to your mother when you were twelve is both deplorable and heart-breaking, but it has no bearing whatsoever on this. Can't you see that? Can't you separate your own personal feelings from all this?"

"Oh, you're one to talk!" she shot back, her voice raising and cracking despite her best efforts. "The only reason you're so bent on butchering Loghain is because you feel like he killed Duncan personally by retreating at Ostagar! So, don't you lecture me on personal feelings, Alistair. Don't. You. DARE!"

Alistair bowed up at that, starting to shake with barely-contained rage. "That was a low blow, Kal, even for you."

"Oh, and your comment about my mother wasn't?"

Alistair snorted, honestly shocked that Kallian was fighting with him on this issue. He had always thought they were on the same page together; at least, she had never voiced any objections before when he had talked of this day to come. "Look," he said, a bit more softly, trying to reason with her, "if this whole situation is a bit... too much... like what you experienced, we can go about it more humanely. Let them say their goodbyes in private and have a proper execution later, one befitting a traitor to the Crown."

The Warden gazed down at her feet in thought, biting her lower lip at her inner conflict. That was, after all, a perfectly sensible compromise on Alistair's part. She couldn't really argue against it. But she still felt frozen with indecision. Even though the situations were nothing alike, the feeling reminded her exactly of how she felt back at Castle Redcliffe, faced with the dreadful choice of letting Jowan sacrifice Lady Isolde in order to save her child's life or kill Connor to stop the demon's deathgrip on the village. She hadn't felt they could risk leaving the village to the demon's machinations in order to seek help from the Circle Tower, so she had been forced to choose who would die and who would live. It was an utterly wrenching situation, one that had left her dry heaving in private after she made her decision and awaited to see if Morrigan's venture into the Fade would successfully save Connor. She had constantly questioned her judgment for weeks after that and, predictably, Alistair had not been terribly pleased with her decision then either.

Kallian looked back up at Alistair, then past him at Anora and Loghain. She felt sick to her stomach. Could she really condemn someone to death again like that? Not in the heat of battle or in self-defense or the defense of others, but as a cold, logical choice? A part of her agreed with Alistair, if only to end the fight with him and be done with this political mess. But a better part of her still felt horrified by the notion. It felt wrong... this all felt so wrong... and as illogical as it was, her gut had never lied to her before. She frowned, locked eyes with Alistair, and braced herself. "No," she commanded, simply and firmly.

Alistair's eyebrows shot up in disbelief. "What?" he growled, temper instantly flaring back up.

Riordan chose that moment, just before it seemed the two Grey Wardens would come to actual fisticuffs, to slide into the picture. "Ahem," he loudly cleared his throat to grab their attention. "There is another way."

Kallian looked over with sudden interest, as did everyone else in the room. Alistair raised an eyebrow in irritation.

"Loghain is a strong and powerful general, yes?" continued Riordan. "A cunning military strategist. A man dedicated to his country and who would do anything to protect it from any threat, yes?"

Kallian nodded. Alistair furrowed his brows and took on a positively smoldering look.

Riordan shot them a half-cocked grin. "Then why not make him one of us? He would be a great asset, no? What better way for him to defend Ferelden than to help stop the Blight? Let's put him through the Joining."

The Warden's eyebrows crinkled with uncertainty as she pondered just how much of an asset Loghain could actually be in the party, slaying darkspawn and sharing strategy - the latter of which she severely lacked, considering most of her good fortune to date had relied on sheer, blind luck. She stifled a wry chuckle at the irony of the thought, but was it really such a bad idea? Would Loghain even entertain the notion of siding with them? Surely he would have to, considering Alistair was ready to strike him down if she wasn't. But just as importantly, how would the rest of the party react? Could they accept him or would they make the matter impossible? It was abundantly clear that Alistair would be a bear to win over; would the others react just as harshly?

"No!" growled Alistair. "No, no, no, no, no. Absolutely NOT!"

Anora seized at the slight hope of her father's survival and added, "Isn't the Joining oftentimes fatal? If my father lives, you'll have gained a powerful ally indeed. If he doesn't, then you'll still have had your revenge."

"I think... that's..." Kallian said hesitantly, surprised by it herself, "... a really sensible idea, actually."

"What?" Alistair turned and practically shouted in her ear. "You can't be serious about this?" At the elf's firm look, he shook his head. "I won't stand for it. I will not call that... that monster my brother," Alistair seethed, pointing once again at Loghain and starting to visibly tremble with emotion.

Kallian sighed and said quietly, "It's what Duncan would do."

Alistair shook his head, his breathing becoming erratic, looking like he was moments away from breaking down and crying. It broke Kallian's heart, but she felt she could placate him and hold his hand no longer. "Don't," Alistair begged. "Don't bring up his name in this."

"But you know this to be true, Alistair. You're letting your hate and your... your obsession with revenge cloud your judgment."

"Am I?" he asked. "Somehow I don't think Duncan would take someone who committed regicide."

There was a moment's pause before the Warden spoke. "He took me," she said softly, almost at a whisper. "I didn't kill a king, no, but I did kill nobility all the same."

"That was different!" he shouted. "That was justified, Kal, and you know it! Loghain left the king to die... left us all to die! How could you possibly justify that? How could you possibly think he'd show us any more shred of loyalty than he showed his own son-in-law?"

"Loyalty does not matter once you become a Grey Warden," Riordan interrupted. "All that matters then is fighting the darkspawn. The Joining binds us to the them. You know this. If you were to forswear your oath and flee today, you would find yourself in the Deep Roads or the Blight lands, given time. Besides, we are not judges. Kinslayers, blood mages, traitors, rebels, carta thugs, common bandits - anyone with the skill and mettle to take up the sword against the darkspawn is welcome among us. We cannot afford to be choosy in where we draw recruits. What is important is skill and the ability to get the job done at any and all costs."

"He's right, Alistair," Kallian added, glad to have a voice of reason to fall back on.

Alistair shook his head slowly. "I can't believe you're honestly considering this."

"I've always had to be the one to make the hard decisions in the past," she argued. From the corner of her eye, she saw Loghain arch an eyebrow at her. "The decisions nobody else wanted to make. Why should it be any different now?"

"I feel like I don't even know you anymore." Alistair's chest heaved, his voice keening. "I thought you were my friend."

The elf lowered her head. The conversation was spiralling out of control and she wasn't sure how to salvage it. "And I thought you were my brother."

They were both quiet for a moment before Alistair hardened his face. "Fine, I'll do it."

Kallian looked up in shock. Riordan raised an eyebrow.

"I don't even want it," continued Alistair, "but I'll become king if it means bringing an end to him." He glared in Loghain's direction.

"This is who you want to be king?" Anora scoffed, joining the fray again. "This selfish, little man-child?"

"No, Alistair," the Warden sighed. "It's not going to be like this."

"You're right, it isn't going to be like this," he snorted, bristling. "I'm through taking orders from you."

Anora glared at Alistair and turned to address Kallian. "So, the whole Landsmeet is waiting, Warden. Who's it going to be?"

Kallian looked back and forth between Anora and Alistair, feeling her heart drop down into her stomach. How did everything go so wrong? she lamented. Anora stood confidantly and gave the Warden an expectant look. It was obvious that the previously arranged marriage was no longer on the table given Alistair's open desire to see her father dead. Alistair, in turn, gave Kallian an icy glare that all but told her that their close friendship was irrevocably damaged by her reluctance to give in to his one demand. She felt precariously balanced on the very top of a mountain, about to face a painful fall down either side no matter her efforts. After taking a deep, shuddering breath, she answered, "Queen Anora."

Alistair balked, looking as if he felt several times betrayed by Kallian. Tears welled in his eyes as he begged, "Please... don't do this to me... ask me for a pound of my flesh or for all the gold in Orlais, but don't ask me to call him my brother. Becoming a Grey Warden shouldn't be considered a punishment."

"You're right, Alistair. Being a Grey Warden isn't a punishment," she answered in barely a whisper, her heart breaking as she forced herself to meet his moist eyes. She never could bear to see him cry. "But I'm not using it as one. My decision is final; Loghain will endure the Joining. If I have to invoke the Rite of Conscription, I will."

Kallian choked back tears as she watched something inside Alistair die before her very eyes. Such a falling out had never even crossed her mind as a potential outcome of all this. Then again, neither had the possibility of Loghain becoming a Grey Warden. Shame on me for not seeing all the possible angles, she admonished herself. She knew whatever came from this moment forward would be solely and entirely on her head.

"So, this is it, then?" Alistair said, voice cracking. "This is how it ends?"

"It doesn't have to end at all, Alistair." Her voice sounded a mile away to her ears, which were instead filled with the overwhelming sound of her heart pounding in them. He couldn't possibly be considering what she thought he was, could he?

"I'm leaving." His voice was so set and so final, Kallian knew that they had passed the point of no return. There was no persuading Alistair to change his mind on this matter and the Warden suddenly became very afraid that she might throw up right there in front of the entire Landsmeet.

"I'm afraid it's not that simple," Anora interrupted tersely. "You still have a claim to the crown. Rebellions could be raised in your name. I cannot have that. You will need to be executed immediately."

Kallian spun on her, instantly furious. "What?" she shouted, shaking with renewed rage. "After I just destroyed my best friend to save your father? No. Unacceptable. You owe me a boon, Anora. Alistair lives."

Anora looked at the Warden dubiously. "That is what you wish of me?"

Kallian could see Alistair looking at her with an unreadable expression. "Yes," she answered firmly. "Most emphatically, yes."

"Then, Alistair," Anored addressed him, "I need you to renounce all current and future claim to the Ferelden throne in Maric's name."

"Yes, absolutely," he answered immediately, voice sounding hollow. "I never wanted it anyway."

"Then you are hereby exiled from these lands," she announced. "Go with your life and Maker watch over you."

"Fine," Alistair choked. "Just fine. I don't want a thing to do with Ferelden or any of you people ever again. I swear it." He caught Kallian's eyes one last time, briefly, then stormed out the door. An awkward silence followed. The Warden stared at the closed doors, feeling a hole open up in her chest and half-expecting her heart to fall out of it and splat onto the floor. This was not how the Landsmeet was supposed to go, she reeled. Not at all. She fought hard to ignore a sudden light-headedness. The last thing she needed to do right now was faint. Or vomit. She still definitely felt like the latter was going to happen relatively soon, despite her best efforts. Because surely she had not just watched her best friend and fellow Grey Warden walk out into exile, never to be seen or heard from again, had she? The thought was unbearable and she bit her tongue sharply to stop the scream that rose in the bottom of her throat.

"Um," Zevran broke the silence, a worried look on his face. "What just happened?"

"Warden?" Riordan stepped forward, placing a strong hand on her shoulder. "I know this is obviously a very bad time for you, but I must insist that we move quickly with the Joining."

Kallian gazed over at him, a questioning look on her face. It felt like she was looking at him from a thousand miles away, as if she were not physically in her body and she was, instead, watching some horrible nightmare. She was certain that any minute now she would awaken, covered in a cold sweat, and find herself safely slumped over the campfire log. Alistair would be on watch beside her, ready to either lend a sympathetic ear or to light-heartedly pick on her mercilessly for falling asleep on watch, just as he always had a thousand times before since that very first night in camp.

Riordan shrugged non-chalantly. "While everyone was busy arguing, Loghain has been very patiently waiting and bleeding."

That brought the Warden slamming back to reality and she immediately spun around. Loghain looked alarmingly pale and glassy-eyed, kneeling in a disturbingly large pool of blood, supported on either side by his daughter and Ser Cauthrien. He seemed likely to pass out without a moment's notice. Kallian sprang into action, shoving the prior events deep down and out of the way for the time being, and hurried towards him while calling, "Wynne! Need you over here!"

"Yes, Warden," the old mage answered, sounding uncharacteristically bitter. Confusion that Wynne had addressed her by her title and not her given name popped into Kallian's mind briefly, but she shoved that down as well in order to deal with the task at hand.

Author's Note: Hopefully, this has been a fun introduction. Please review, if at all possible, and let me know it doesn't entirely suck! And since music is such a huge influence for me, I feel the need to list a few songs that were definitely kept on "repeat" for their symbolism and appropriateness while conspiring for this chapter. Perhaps they will make good background reading tunes!

The Dueling Scene was brought to you by "You're Going Down" by Sick Puppies

The Argument with Alistair Scene was brought to you equally by "Hate Me" by Blue October and "Snuff" by Slipknot