When I Look at You (a Dragon Age fanfiction)

Practicality

When Erlina was gone, Una sank into a chair next to Eamon's desk, putting her head in her hands. So much about this plan and the story behind it felt wrong to her. What traps lay in her way, what pitfalls? Would she be able to see them in time to avoid them?

"You couldn't have done anything else," Eamon said. "We couldn't afford to have it look as though we ignored a call for help from the queen ... and if we could get her to help us against Loghain, her knowledge could be a powerful weapon. Imagine if his own daughter were to denounce him in the Landsmeet! They would have no choice but to go against him!" His voice was rising with excitement.

"Do you really think Anora would turn on her father?" Alistair asked.

Una looked up, wondering what Eamon would say. He had known Loghain much longer and better than either of them, and Anora as well. Una had always been so much younger, the few times she'd met Anora they'd had little to say to one another.

Eamon shrugged. "If the elf's story is to be believed, then Loghain turned against Anora first. But either way, I'd rather try to bring her out safely and ask her about her intentions than take the chance of hearing about her murder and know I could have tried to stop it and didn't."

That was easy for him to say, Una thought. He wasn't the one who stood the risk of being killed or captured in the process.

She took her leave of Eamon on the excuse of collecting the others and checking their supplies. Alistair started to follow her out of Eamon's office.

"Stay here with him," she said. "Find out everything he knows about the Landsmeet, Anora, Loghain ... everything."

"Aren't I coming with you?"

Una shook her head, her mind already on finding Zev and Leliana to get their thoughts, and on how to circumvent whatever Erlina, Anora, or Howe might be planning.

Alistair grabbed her hand and pulled her to a stop, bewildered. "Una, if you have to face Howe, I want to be with you. I need to be with you." He cupped her cheek, looking into her eyes. "You don't need to protect me."

Her eyes clouded with confusion briefly, then cleared as she pulled her thoughts back to the conversation. "I want you with me, too, if that happens, and I'm not trying to protect you ... at least, not in the way you think." She placed her hand over his. "Everything in me says that this is a trap, only I don't know who set it or where the danger is coming from. You and I are the only two Grey Wardens left in Ferelden, and no hope of any others coming in time to stop the Archdemon. I can't commit both of us to a non-Blight-related rescue of this nature—if we were both captured, or ... injured, we could lose precious time that we're going to need. Do you understand?"

Unwillingly, Alistair nodded. He loved her practicality, but sometimes it was downright inconvenient. He had mental images of Una facing down Howe, of her losing focus in her need for vengeance and being hurt, of her falling apart and needing him once the man who had killed her family was down, of ... well, he didn't know what all the potential pitfalls were, but there were a lot of them. How could he sit here comfortably in Eamon's estate and let her face them all herself?

"Alistair?" she prodded him gently, looking into his face. "I wish I felt safe with you coming, but this feels wrong."

"The queen needs our help," he said, frowning.

"Her maid, an Orlesian who admitted to bard training, says the queen needs our help. I'm not prepared to accept that at face value from someone who describes Loghain as 'subtle'. He's about as subtle as an ogre."