When I Look at You (a Dragon Age fanfiction)

Duty

As they reached the first floor, the door opened, and Wynne came in, followed by Oghren and a person in the armor of the Arl of Denerim. She took her helm off, patting her blonde braids to be sure they were in place, then looked around her. "Where is Arl Eamon Guerrin?" she asked, her voice precise and very cold.

"We were just looking for him," Alistair said. "Who are you?"

"Anora, Queen of Ferelden."

His eyebrows flew up. This was the queen? Cailan's wife? She seemed so ... young, so pretty. "Your Majesty," he stammered. "I am Alistair, Grey Warden of Ferelden." He watched her face when he gave his name, and wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed when she didn't seem familiar with it. Maybe Cailan had never told her he had a half-brother. Maybe Cailan had never known. Either way, he was of no use to her other than in his capacity as Grey Warden, he told himself, firmly pushing aside any question of whether he would try to push her off her throne, or whether he should.

Anora nodded. "I was told there were two of you." Her blue eyes appraised him carefully, and Alistair had the impression that he hadn't come off that well.

"The other Grey Warden," Zevran interjected. "Where is she?"

"Ser Cauthrien took her to Fort Drakon." Clearly, Anora expected a greater reaction, so she said it again, with emphasis. "Fort Drakon. The most secure dungeon in the city; nay, the country." There was more than a hint of pride in her tone.

Alistair wasn't sure what he was supposed to say, so he settled on, "Huh." Not the most intelligent remark, but it didn't commit him to anything, either.

"Knocked the Warden in the head," Oghren growled. "Nearly went after 'er right then."

"She hit Una? After she surrendered?" Alistair didn't blame Oghren; even hearing about it second-hand, he was seeing red. He looked at Anora. "Why?"

Her Majesty shrugged. "To be certain she wouldn't try to escape, I imagine." She looked supremely unconcerned, and Alistair decided he didn't like her at all.

"Let's go, then," he said to the others, and was startled when all three formed a line in front of him.

"Nope," Oghren said succinctly.

"I'm going to get her out of there! You can't mean to just sit there and let her rot inside a prison cell. Anyone remember the Blight? The Archdemon? Those ring a bell? We need her!" Alistair tried to combat the rising panic inside him, thinking of her helpless in some dungeon, alone and frightened and no doubt remembering what had happened to her parents, and he thought he would burst if he didn't do something.

"We know we need her," Wynne said with a patience that if anything further maddened him. "But you are not going."

"Of course I am!"

"The last thing she wants is for you to run into the prison and get yourself caught as well. Think, man!" Zevran snapped. "Do not be an impulsive fool. Do you not see that this is what they want? Both of you, trapped together? Because then they can blame the Grey Wardens for everything and there is no one to say anything against them."

"He is right." Leliana appeared from the shadows, her face partially obscured by her hood. "Una did not take you into Arl Howe's because she thought it too dangerous for the two of you to be there together, in case it was a trap. As we see, she was absolutely right. This, too, is no doubt a trap—they dangle her before you and assume that you will go in after her, and then they will, as Zevran says, have both of you." She patted Alistair on the arm. "You need not worry; we will get her out. I have ... experience in such things. You, on the other hand, must stay here and entertain our charming queen." A very faint edge had crept into her voice, and Alistair thought he understood—he was to keep the queen occupied so that she couldn't give anyone any warnings.

He didn't like it, but he knew better than to argue—when the rest of the group all agreed on something, they were generally right.

Leliana nodded at him in approval. "Zevran, you and I and Wynne will go to Fort Drakon and see what we can accomplish."

"You know where it is?" the elf asked her.

"I have some familiarity with it, yes." She turned to Oghren. "Keep him here."

Oghren grinned widely at Alistair. "My soddin' pleasure, Red."

A wet nose appeared, snuffling at Leliana's hand and prodding her meaningfully. She looked down at the dog doubtfully. "I believe you would attract a great deal of attention, Grenli."

The mabari woofed insistently, and Leliana frowned thoughtfully down at him.

"I suppose you are correct—a mabari is a formidable foe, after all, and you have, indeed, earned the right. Very well. You may accompany us."

Grenli sat back, giving another woof, this one sounding vindicated.

Struggling to keep his fear, and his jealousy, under control, Alistair snapped, "Isn't that dandy. Now, will you all just go already?"

Leliana patted him on the arm. "Patience. We will find her."

And they departed, leaving Alistair to stare helplessly at Queen Anora, who seemed mostly annoyed that no one was making a fuss over her. Well, Alistair wouldn't, either, he told himself.

Then he thought of Una, and what she would do if she were here, and he sighed and said, "So, Your Highness, um ... Can I get you something to eat?"

He took her arm and led her to the dining room, trying to cover his nearly overwhelming anxiety with his limited stock of small talk.