When I Look at You (a Dragon Age fanfiction)

Orzammar

They left the next morning, traveling north into the Frostbacks until they reached the gates of Orzammar. Mercenaries were waiting for them in the sprawling tent city outside the dwarven stronghold. They took out the mercenaries and approached the massive doors that sealed off the city. The guard at the gate was in the middle of a heated argument with another group of humans who claimed to have been sent by Loghain himself. Ignoring them, Una walked up to the guard, handing him the Grey Warden treaty.

The guard looked it over. "This is the royal seal," he said. "But we have no king to hear you, Grey Warden. King Endrin Aeducan returned to the Stone some weeks ago."

"Is there anyone in there who can authorize the troops we need?" Una asked. "We face a Blight!"

"You can't let this traitor in here! She's a disgrace to her country, and King Loghain is looking for her," protested the leader of the other humans. He kept making a big deal out of being King Loghain's messenger.

"King Loghain?!" Alistair sputtered. "When did that happen?"

"Peace, Alistair," Una said. "These things will be set right." Her steely tone drew a speculative look from the dwarven guard, while the messenger continued to rant.

"Fight with each other all you want," growled the guard, "but take it off my sodding doorstep."

Una nodded, and both groups moved away from the doors to an open area, where they joined battle. There was little doubt as to the eventual outcome of the fight, and before too long she and her team stood in front of the guard again. "May we enter now?"

"I have to thank you, Warden. That group had been here jabbering at me for two weeks. Glad to have them gone." He motioned behind him, and two silent soldiers began working a complicated series of locks. The giant doors swung smoothly open. "You may enter, Warden, but I don't know what there is waiting for you inside. Orzammar has seen better days."

And they went in through the doors. Zev and Alistair and Wynne were accompanying Una, while Leliana and Grenli and Morrigan stayed outside with the community of surface dwarves.

Orzammar's ceilings stretched high above their heads, creating the illusion of an infinite space. As they explored, listening to the talk of the dwarves around them, they were all amazed at the sheer size of the place, the opulence of the carvings, the busy bustle everywhere. Clearly there was tension—they witnessed several fights between supporters of the two main candidates for the throne and were the target of a fair amount of suspicion themselves.

They'd been inside Orzammar for several hours when Una became aware of a strange buzzing in her skin. It was faint enough that she could only feel it when they were paused, but it was definitely there. She caught herself rubbing her arm, trying to discover the source of the feeling.

Alistair murmured quietly in her ear, "You feel it, too?"

"A tingling sensation?"

He nodded. "I was hoping it was just being near you." But his grin was tense.

"You think it's the taint?"

"That's my suspicion. I wonder what it's like in the Deep Roads."

"Maybe we won't have to find out," she said optimistically.

"Right," he said. "Because things are always that easy."

After quite a bit of talking and asking questions, it became clear that in order to get any troops to fulfill the treaty, they were going to have to help resolve Orzammar's political struggle and find a king to put on the throne. The two main candidates seemed to be the dead king's only surviving son, or a lord who had been the king's close friend. The son, Bhelen, was generally considered to have been responsible for the murder of his eldest brother and the subsequent exile of his middle brother, but most thought he would make a strong king and many seemed to feel that he would end a lot of the old ways, bringing Orzammar into the modern age. The other candidate, Lord Harrowmont, seemed a nice person, and honorable, but the consensus thought he would make a weak king who did not have the strength necessary to keep the Assembly in line.

The four of them gave it a great deal of consideration. Wynne was suspicious of Bhelen, while Zevran had open scorn for Harrowmont and was downright insistent that they support the stronger candidate. Eventually, Una decided she agreed with the elf, and they consented to help put Bhelen on the throne. At first, this just entailed talking to various nobles, but eventually they were asked to go down into Dust Town, the poorer quarter of the city, and take out a criminal carta that had taken hold there. Una wasn't happy about it, but what choice did she have?

They spent the next day exploring Dust Town, eventually finding the carta's hideout and taking out most of its members. The leader, Jarvia, was hidden deep within a warren of rooms and tunnels, and proved surprisingly challenging, but eventually they defeated her, as well, and returned to Prince Bhelen in the royal palace. Una was hoping Bhelen would promise the troops at this meeting, but instead he made it clear that his position on the throne was by no means secured. In order to cement his place as Orzammar's next king, he needed the approval of the dwarves' only living Paragon, the equivalent of a god. Branka, the Paragon, had disappeared into the Deep Roads two years ago, and if she was still alive, Bhelen needed her to endorse him as the right candidate for the throne. So there it was—they'd be off to the Deep Roads the next day, ready to find this Paragon and drag her back to Orzammar, if need be.

After dinner, everyone retired to their rooms. Una assumed it would be a long, tiring day (at least) in the Deep Roads, and asked that everyone get a decent night's sleep before heading out. She and Alistair went back to their room—one of the few available in Orzammar that was outfitted with furnishings the right size for humans. Sighing, Una began to strip off her armor and padding. As she took her undergear off, she heard Alistair suck in a horrified breath behind her.

"Maker's blood!" he said, coming toward her and gently touching a spot on her back.

Una winced. "What did you do?" she asked.

"I think it's you who did something. Your back is all black and blue. Are you sure you're all right?"

"I should be. I used enough health poultices and injury kits today to choke an ogre."

"I'm going to run you a bath," he said, gesturing to the giant stone tub in the back of the room. "And you're going to soak in it until that bruise feels better."

Una looked over at the tub, then back at her lover. She raised an eyebrow. "Only if you get in with me."

Alistair caught his breath as he felt the heat spread through him. "That does have possibilities," he murmured huskily. He started the hot water—an advantage of the lava all throughout Orzammar, the hot running water—and hastily stripped off his armor.

Una was in the tub by the time he finished, her eyes already gone green and hazy with desire. Alistair slid into the tub facing her, reaching out to draw her closer to him. She hooked her legs over his thighs, leaning forward into his kiss. They kissed hungrily, hands exploring each other, the heat of the water mingling with the heat in their blood. Una moaned, her head falling back as Alistair leaned forward, his mouth on her throat, his hands caressing her wet breasts.

Sliding his hands down over her sides, he lifted her and she sank oh, so slowly down onto him, her thighs tensing, both of them gasping. The water swirled around them as they rocked together, their breath coming faster and faster as their passions rose to a pinnacle.

They held on to each other as their bodies and the water began to cool. "Did that help your back?" Alistair murmured.

"Not as much as a good night's sleep will," Una said.

He nibbled the side of her neck. "I hear Grey Wardens don't need much sleep," he suggested.

"They do if they're about to go into the Deep Roads. I suspect that'll be hardest on us," she said. "Much as I hate to make you stop doing that," she sighed, arching her neck to give him better access.

"I could finish this first."

"That might lead to a lot more time-intensive activities," she said, regretfully getting up to dry herself off.

"You are no fun," Alistair pouted.

"Try me once we get out of Orzammar."

"Count on it."