When I Look at You (a Dragon Age fanfiction)

Showdown

Once Oswyn was safely on his way out of the dungeons, Una and her team turned the opposite direction, working their way deeper into the warrens of rooms. She wondered why this all existed—while it was well within Howe's capabilities and interests to have had all these dungeons built, this was the Arl of Denerim's residence, and she'd never heard that the Kendalls were all that bloodthirsty. Then again, no doubt she wouldn't have heard if they were. Torture wasn't exactly juicy gossip, or at least, not among her set.

"Perhaps we could finish this up," Wynne said, her normally gentle voice hard and filled with urgency. Oswyn's condition had clearly upset her.

"Gladly." Una led the way farther into the dungeons. At the back of a room filled with Howe's men, a hard-fought battle, they found a block of cells. Most of those inside were dead, but one, a thin elf, came weakly toward the door of his cell, gripping the bars.

"Please, what month is it? Are you ... are you some enemy of Arl Uriens?" His voice was weak and hoarse, but he was fighting hard to stand on his feet, and Una respected that.

"Arl Uriens is dead."

"Dead? Then who's ruling? His son, Vaughan, he—" The elf paused, looking at Una and her companions, particularly Zev, closely, then went on, his voice a little stronger. "He struck me down and I ended up here."

"For a vicious crime, no doubt," Zev said with heavy sarcasm.

"On my wedding day," the elf replied. "After he took my bride and her wedding party for ..." He swallowed. "For his own pleasure."

Una closed her eyes, wincing. It didn't surprise her; Vaughan had always had a bit of a cruel streak.

"King Cailan is dead; Vaughan hasn't been seen. He may have died on the battlefield, I don't know." Where was Vaughan? she wondered. "For now, the throne is in the hands of Queen Anora and her father, Teyrn Loghain, and the arling in the hands of Rendon Howe."

"I don't know that name." The elf passed his hand across his face. "Will you—can I go? I want to see my family."

"Of course." Una nodded at Zev, who began on the lock. "Is there anything you need? Healing, supplies?"

The elf was staring at Zev's hands, hungrily, as if he could taste the free air outside the dungeons. "No. I just want to go home."

The lock sprang free and Zev stepped aside. There were smiles on all their faces as the thin elf made his way through the dungeon and out the door.

At least, Una thought, they had done some good here today, no matter what else lay ahead. Oswyn and this too-long-imprisoned elf were on their way home.

Zev led the way back out into the main passageway, and paused outside a heavy iron door. He glanced back at Una.

This was it. Something in her told her that this was where Howe would be—concealed behind a thick layer of metal, prepared and waiting for whatever came through the door. She closed her eyes, picturing her family. Her father, her mother. Oren. Oriana. Fergus. This would be for them, and for Rory Gilmore who had bought her time to escape with his life and for Mother Mallol and Nan and all the other servants and retainers whose life had been lost to this man's greed and betrayal.

She opened her eyes and nodded at Zev, who made quick work of the lock for once. The door swung open.

Una stepped through, and stopped just inside, looking down at the man who stood in the center of the room. He seemed small and somehow frail in his light armor.