When I Look at You (a Dragon Age fanfiction)

Branka

They walked into a large cavern, better-lit than many they had been in down here. As soon as Zev, at the back of the group, had cleared the doorway, it crumbled in on itself. A loud laugh rang out in the cavern.

"You thought you could take it from me, but you'll be getting it for me instead." A large, strong female dwarf came out from the shadows onto a ledge above their heads.

"By the Stone!" Oghren exclaimed. "Branka?"

"Oghren," the woman said calmly, and with no surprise. "You finally found someone willing to listen to your drunken ranting, did you?" Her eyes took in the armored group in front of her. "Or is this some princely hireling, down here to fetch me so I can put some worthless imbecile on the throne?"

"Watch your tongue, woman," Oghren said. "This is a Grey Warden."

"Ah, an important messenger, then," Branka scoffed. "It makes no difference. Without the Anvil, our empire will crumble, no matter which lapdog rots on the throne."

"Look," Una said, in no mood for more fencing, "all I want is your endorsement. Say something, anything I can interpret to mean support, and then we'll head back to Orzammar and you can go off and get your Anvil in peace."

Branka threw back her head and laughed. "An honest approach, anyway. But I think you'll find it isn't that easy."

"Nothing ever is," Una grumbled, half to herself.

"You see, Caridin, who made the Anvil, protected it with a series of traps. I have thrown everyone I had, and everyone Laryn could create, at them, and cannot get through. But you! You will get through," Branka crowed. "Because there is no other way out."

"Everyone Laryn could create?" Una whispered. "You mean, you— Hespith was right to ask me to be merciful," she said, her lip curling in disgust. "For her sake, I won't have you cut down where you stand. But only for her sake."

"Hespith?" Branka said, a wild hope in her eyes. "You saw my Hespith? She lives?"

"If you can call it that," Alistair said.

Branka's eyes flickered to the warrior, then moved back to Una. "Hespith asked you to be merciful to me, did she?" She laughed bitterly. "It is too late for mercy."

"Branka, what has this place done to you?" Oghren cried. "I remember a girl you could talk to for one minute and see her brilliance."

The corners of Branka's mouth curled up in a mocking smile. "I am your Paragon," she said, and withdrew into the shadows.

"Another challenge," sighed Una.

"Another crazy person," said Alistair. "We seem to attract them."

Oghren shook his head. "I don't know what's the matter with her. The Branka I knew would never—not her own house!" He looked dazed.

"What kind of traps do you think they are?" Wynne asked practically.

Una shrugged. "I guess there's only one way to find out."

In fact, the traps proved remarkably easy. A few golems, a couple of blade traps that Zev easily disabled, a gas chamber, and a giant cauldron that spit spirits out until all four of its faces had been hit twice with a strange-looking cannon, and the way forward lay clear. Una looked sorrowfully back at the broken cauldron. "This," she said. "An entire house was decimated, women turned into unspeakable abominations spewing forth darkspawn, all because some supposedly brilliant Paragon went insane and couldn't figure out this?" She sighed. "We've seen a lot of tragedy, but this is by far the most senseless. If the dwarves have a hell, I hope Branka rots in it. Tortured, miserably, the way Laryn was. Or Hespith." Una bit her lip, looking over at the red-headed dwarf who accompanied them. "I'm sorry, Oghren."