Reverse-Cowgirl Diplomacy

The call of the archdemon strengthened as the days passed and Elissa stoically went about the business of administrating the affairs of the kingdom in her husband's absence. She immediately began to regret releasing Urien's son Vaughan from Howe's dungeons. Her first inclination had been to let him rot after what the elf in the dungeons had told her about his actions in the Alienage, but she had thought she might need his voice in the Landsmeet. Unfortunately, he proved useless in the matter of actually fulfilling his duty as the new Arl of Denerim, which meant the job of managing the city fell to her as well.

When word reached her through the city guard that Vaughan was once again harassing female elves within the Alienage, Elissa summoned him to the palace to explain himself. He arrived drunk and insolent, sneering at Elissa's reprimand.

"Don't get above yourself, girl. You may have pretensions of being queen, but don't think we weren't listening to what Loghain said about you," Vaughan slurred, staggering toward her. "You know, this is the reason I go to the Alienage. At least the whores there know how to put their mouths to better use than nagging a man to death."

Elissa's snarl of offense was lost beneath Alba's outraged yell and her lady-in-waiting, Valaria’s, horrified gasp. As he attempted to grab her, two things happened simultaneously. Vaughan was knocked back, clear across the audience chamber by an unseen force that sounded like a boulder rolling, and the queen's guard charged forward, their swords clearing their sheaths. Elissa's anger turned to shock as she whirled to face Alba and watched the residual power bleed away from the ancient elf's wrinkled hands.

Apparently Vaughan hadn’t considered the consequences of insulting elven women before a very powerful elven mage.

"Take this worthless piece of offal masquerading as a man to Fort Drakon on charges of treason and attempted assault upon the queen," she commanded her guards as Vaughan groaned, attempting to rise and holding his head in pain. His shouts that "that shriveled old elf bitch" should be arrested for assaulting him fell on deaf ears, as did his threats of retaliation against Elissa. Her guard was only too happy to drag the arl away, cursing and howling.

At Fort Drakon he would await the next Landsmeet, at which time she would bring a proposal to unseat him as the Arl of Denerim and raise another in his place. While this did nothing to lighten the amount of work she found herself having to do, at least she had the satisfaction of rectifying the mistake she had made in releasing the odious man from the dungeon in the first place.

Meanwhile, the call of the archdemon grew louder.

She heard it as she toured the city's warehouses and granaries to assess what sort of emergency stores could supply Denerim if the Bannorn, where the majority of Ferelden's farmland lay, should fall to the Blight entirely or the supply routes be cut off.

She heard it as she went to the waterfront, where Ferelden's small navy lay at anchor, and dispatched two ships. One would bear a message to Empress Celene in Val Royeaux and another, written by Riordan, to the Grey Wardens of Orlais. The other ship would sail north around the Antivan peninsula to the shores of the Nocen Sea in the Tevinter Imperium, from whence a messenger would travel overland into the Anderfels bearing a message--also in Riodan’s hand--for Weisshaupt.

She heard it in the dead of night eight days after Alistair left Denerim, as Alba and her personal maid took turns pressing firmly with their fists on her lower back just above her hips until their hands were numb. As they did this, Elissa held onto the massive bedpost and rocked her pelvis back and forth, attempting to alleviate some of the horrid agony in her back. Her screams echoed the archdemon's roar as she clung to a knotted end of a sheet Alba had tied to the canopy rails of her bed so that Elissa could grasp it and hang some of her weight upon it as she squatted. It was a position which made the excruciating contractions that gripped her over and over far more bearable than lying upon the bed had done.

She heard it as dawn broke the next morning, when she sat exhausted upon her bed with joyful tears in her eyes and brought her beautiful daughter to her breast for the first time.

Naming the babe became its own ordeal, for political expediency demanded an emphasis on her paternity and connection to so many of Ferelden’s most powerful noble bloodlines. Left to her own desires, Elissa would simply have named her daughter after her mother. But instead, she sat in the Chantry two days later, hearing the archdemon’s call in her mind, as the Revered Mother consecrated Caila Rowan Eleanor Theirin in a simple and austere ceremony.

It seemed to be growing louder.

After those first few days, Elissa could not remain abed, however badly she wanted to simply sit there and marvel at her babe. Caila's hair was only a thin, downy layer upon her scalp, but it gleamed golden in the light, and when her skin lost the blotchy red and yellow hues that nearly all infants possessed, Elissa had no doubt she would be possessed of the fair complexion that was a signature of the Theirin bloodline. Before the week was out, whisper reached her that the servants were calling the child Princess Ella.

Since Elissa could not have the usual lying-in period to heal and recuperate, Alba used a small touch of healing to hasten the matter along and make it easier for the queen to function. It was something of a scandal with the few noblewomen remaining at court that Elissa refused to hand Ella off to a wet-nurse. Still, since she could not ignore her duties in favor of motherhood entirely, Alba showed her how to knot a wide length of cloth about herself to fashion a sling for the babe as she attended to the affairs of the realm. The wet-nurse, Hortense, was always near at hand, however, for the moments when Elissa simply could not pause to tend to Ella's needs, and between the two of them they managed to care for the babe while Elissa conducted the business of being queen.

Six days after Ella's birth, Riordan returned from the south. He came late in the evening, striding purposefully through the palace with the guards anxiously following at his heels, uncertain whether they should detain him or let him through.

Elissa was in the comfortable parlor in the queen’s suite nursing Ella while the wet-nurse and Alba—who to all appearances had decided to make herself a permanent fixture as one of Elissa's attendants—sat nearby with their embroidery and Valaria laid out Elissa's supper on the small table. When she heard the sound of rapid footfalls in the hallway outside and voices raised in consternation, she handed Ella to Hortense and stepped outside to investigate.

"Maker's breath! Riordan!" she gasped in astonishment. The elder Warden was haggard and filthy, but looked immensely relieved to see her.

"Your Majesty—" he began, bowing, but Elissa waved him off.

"None of that, Riordan, please. Let there be no such formalities between us Grey Wardens. And you," she turned her attention to the guards, "why was I not informed immediately when the Warden arrived?"

"Your pardon, Your Majesty," the guard bowed. "There was no time to announce him. He came straight to you."

"Very well, then, return to your post. Come in, Riordan, and have something to eat. I'm sure you've had nothing worthy of being called a meal in days. Valaria, please call for another tray of food to be brought, and see that a chamber is prepared for Riordan, and a bath as well."

"Thank you, Elissa," Riordan said, sinking into a chair before the small table. He devoured Elissa's supper with no ceremony while Alba checked him over at Elissa's insistence to be sure he was uninjured. Elissa shared with him the second tray of food that was brought and once the edge had been taken off his hunger, Riordan was able to explain his purpose in coming.

"I thought you intended to rendezvous with the royal army at Redcliffe after you had completed scouting," Elissa questioned, refilling his goblet with rich, red wine herself.

"I did," he replied, sipping gratefully. "And I will be departing at dawn to do just that. But what I discovered in the south required that I first come back to Denerim to tell you. The darkspawn horde is now moving east, toward Denerim. And the archdemon leads them."

"Oh, Andraste's mercy!" she breathed in horror. "You're certain?"

"Quite," he said with certainty. "I have been able to understand a good deal of what the archdemon has been saying, and they are headed this way."

"That's why the archdemon has been growing louder in my mind," Elissa murmured and Riordan gave a grim nod. Elissa rose and began pacing as she considered aloud what his news would mean. "We must begin an evacuation immediately, get as many people out of the city as possible, send them north. The food stores must be moved. Perhaps we can load them onto ships and send them to Amaranthine or Highever to await the refugees. Dear Maker, this is going to be disastrous. We'll never be able to get everyone out!"

"There is more," Riordan added, "but—forgive me—it is news only for Grey Wardens to hear."

"I see," Elissa said, blinking. "Hortense, give Ella to me, you may go to bed. Alba, Valaria, you may also go to your rest. I will not need you again tonight."

"Your Majesty!" Valaria protested, looking scandalized. "This is most improper!"

"This is Grey Warden business," Elissa said coldly. "There is no question of impropriety, and certainly not less than a week after I've given birth. Now leave us!"

"Yes, Your Majesty," Valaria muttered, blushing and curtsying as she took her leave.

Once she sensed her mother's nearness, Ella immediately began rooting and whimpered when she could not find her objective. Elissa opened her bodice and guided the flailing infant to her breast, where she quieted immediately. When Elissa glanced up, Riordan's gaze quickly darted aside.

"Forgive me, Elissa," he murmured awkwardly. "I had a lover once, many years ago, and she bore a child, and I always did enjoy... but that is no matter. You did not send your ladies away to listen to me reminisce."

Elissa gave him a small smile, neither offended nor abashed that he had been admiring the sight of her feeding her child. The truth was, despite the urgency of the news he carried, this act made her feel peaceful and calm, and she could find no cause for shame or awkwardness in it.

"What is this news you could not share in front of my ladies?" she asked gently.

"This is—this is not something I would choose to burden a young mother with," he said regretfully. "I wonder what Duncan thought he was doing, recruiting one so young, and now to have a new babe...."

"My youth has not kept me from doing what needed to be done all these months, Riordan. Why is it suddenly a burden now?"

"It is tragic enough that you could be taken by the taint at such an early age, but did Duncan ever have a chance to explain to you why Grey Wardens are required to fight the archdemon?"

Elissa shook her head. "No, I'm afraid he fell before he had the opportunity. I always assumed it had something to do with the taint in our blood."

"You assumed correctly," Riordan sighed, and began to explain. When he had finished, Elissa stared at him, her face white and horrified.

"So you see, Elissa, why it pains me to bring you this news. But we have no choice. We are Grey Wardens, and we do what we must. There must be as many of us as possible there when we confront the archdemon, especially with so few of us here in Ferelden. I am the eldest, and the taint will not spare me much longer. If I can, I will be the one to deal the deathblow. But if I should fall before the archdemon dies...."

"...Then either Alistair or I must die," she finished for him, astounded by how composed her voice was, when everything within her was railing against the injustice of the situation.

"Yes. And so you must be there at the battle as well as Alistair and myself. You cannot evacuate with the rest of the citizens of Denerim. It is here we must make our stand."

"I understand," she said hollowly, clutching Ella closer as the babe's suckling grew shallow and lazy. Her mouth began to grow slack upon Elissa's nipple as she fell asleep, and gently Elissa removed her from the breast and righted her bodice with a shaking hand.

"You should rest." She didn't look at Riordan as she spoke, but instead stared at the flickering flames of the candles. "By now your chambers and bath should be prepared, and you will need to get an early start if you wish to reach Redcliffe in time to do Denerim any good."

Riordan nodded and rose while Elissa summoned her maid to show him to his chamber. Before he left, he bowed and lifted her hand, placing a kiss upon it. "Again, I am very sorry, Elissa," he murmured, and left before she could even acknowledge his apology.

She had thought she might dissolve into hysterics after the senior Warden left, but the tears she had expected did not come. She felt a terrible sense of purpose take hold of her as she rose and carried Ella into her bedchamber. She did not lay the babe in her gorgeously carved cradle, but instead laid her upon the bed while Elissa removed her gown. She lay down with Ella snuggled against her breast and listened to the babe's rapid, softly snuffling breath, gently stroking her downy head until sleep finally overtook her as well.

---

She awoke some hours later as the archdemon's roar shattered her sleep, barely able to prevent herself from screaming in response. Ella woke with a start and began rooting and whimpering and so Elissa sat up and suckled her as the sweat of panic dried upon her skin.

By the time Ella was fed and half-asleep again, Elissa was fully awake. She donned her dressing gown and took the babe to Hortense to tend her for the rest of the night, then went to Alba's chamber and knocked upon the paneled door.

The ancient healer either slept lightly, or had not been asleep at all, for she answered promptly and appeared alert.

"Is there something you need, Your Majesty?" the mage asked, standing aside to allow Elissa to enter.

"In the morning I must begin preparing to evacuate as many people from Denerim as possible," Elissa said. "I haven't the time to finish healing from the birth on my own. I'm still sore when I bend over. Sitting is uncomfortable, and the bleeding is an inconvenience I can no longer afford."

"I have warned Your Majesty that it is best to let these things run their course," Alba reminded her with a touch of impatience. "It could affect your ability to bear future children to rush it."

"I am a Grey Warden!" There was an hysterical edge to her voice as she made the declaration. "The fact that I've had a babe at all under the circumstances is astonishing. It's extremely unlikely I shall ever have another. Now do what you can."

The mage instructed Elissa to lie upon her bed, and her hands began to glow with energy as she approached. One hand she placed upon Elissa's belly, directly over her womb. Immediately, Elissa felt that tingling warmth of healing energy, followed by a tightening, an almost painful cramping that drew a surprised grunt from her. A moment later Alba's other hand pressed against Elissa's sex, her fingers curling ever so slightly inside. The sensation of the stretched and torn tissues knitting together was uncomfortable, but Elissa bit her lip against the impulse to complain about the prickling ache and waited until the mage drew away, nodding.

"If I do any more, you'll find yourself a virgin again," Alba announced with a touch of humor, going to the basin to wash her hands.

"No, thank you," Elissa said with a shudder, remembering that painful moment of rending when Cailan had taken her. Then she was reminded that it was unlikely she would ever experience sex again, one way or the other, and her mood grew morose.

She sat up and found she could move without discomfort. She thanked the midwife again and returned to her own chamber. She dug through her wardrobe until she located her Dalish leather armor, but it hurt to bind her new, larger breasts tightly enough that it would fit. Vowing she would discuss that problem with Alba in the morning, she instead donned only the leather war skirt with a simple linen shirt over a short, snug chemise. Her boots and vambraces and gauntlets followed, though she figured they would hardly be necessary for what she intended. Then she took up her daggers and bow and made her way through the torchlit palace to the courtyard off the armory where the strawmen were set up for the use of the palace guards. There were no guards about this late and she had the training ground to herself.

She was not nearly so out of practice with her bow as she was with her daggers, and so she set the bow aside and slowly began tracing her way through the forms and stances she had learned all those months ago in the company of Zevran and Isabela, the round, whirling movements that kept her from being where her enemy was attempting to strike, while using the momentum of her motion to add force to her next blow.

She was panting and sweating by the time she heard booted feet on the cobblestones of the courtyard and turned to find Riordan walking toward her.

"The archdemon woke you as well?" he asked unnecessarily.

Elissa nodded, wiping beads of sweat from her brow on the sleeve of her shirt. "Strange thing about knowing you're going to die soon," she said bitterly, "it suddenly makes sleep much less appealing. Spar with me."

"As you wish," he agreed with a bow, drawing his daggers. "I see you fight in a style very similar to my own."

Elissa's eyes widened as he began turning his own gracefully dangerous dance to counter her strikes. "Odd, I thought it a unique and rare style when I learned it. You didn't happen to pick it up from a pirate, did you?"

"A pirate?" Riordan gave her an confused look. "No, it's simply the way I fight. You need not be the one to die, you know."

Elissa barely managed to side-step his next strike, turning in the same motion to slash at him with her off-hand dagger as he moved nimbly aside. "Yes," she panted, "I do."

"If I should fall, then Alistair is the next senior Grey Warden," he pointed out as she deflected an easy jab to which she had left herself open with her vambrace. He managed to pull the strike just in time to avoid slicing her upper arm. Maker, this was foolish! She was inadequately armored, out of practice, and bone-weary. He could have defeated her easily, but instead he let her continue to press him.

"Ferelden must have a ruler who can unite the nobility!" Elissa grated, charging him with a series of bold attacks that abandoned grace for aggression. "My rule as queen right now is more a matter of goodwill and courtesy on the part of the nobles than any real willingness to unite behind me. If Alistair dies, I will not be able to hold them together as queen-regent until Ella has grown. Don't you understand? If you fall, it must be me!"

She scarcely noticed when Riordan ceased attempting to attack her and concentrated solely on defending himself. Her breath came in ragged, choking gasps as her arms grew heavier with the effort of trying to find a way through his defenses.

"I will not live to see my nation recover from all that has happened and thrive once more. I will not live to see Highever restored to my family, to see my brother take his place as teyrn. I will not live to see Alistair's coronation nor ever hold him in my arms again! I will not live to see my daughter grow into a woman! Maker, Riordan!" she screamed as he deftly disarmed her before she could actually harm him. "Why?!"

She thrust her fists against his leather clad chest, pounding against him, and he took her blows, murmuring soothingly until she rested her head upon his chest with a helpless mewl, clutching his baldric in one fist. She couldn't even sob or have a proper fit of hysterics, her grief too deep for tears, and so instead she stood there a long moment, trembling as his hands stroked her shoulders.

"Oh, sweet Andraste, my little Ella... I don't want to die," she murmured finally. "Not when I have so much to live for."

"I will do everything I can to keep that from happening," he assured her. Becoming aware of a tingling ache in her breasts, she quickly pulled away and looked down to see a large wet patch turning the fine linen of her shirt and the shift beneath transparent, revealing a hint of her darkened nipple.

"Maker's ass!" she cursed in disgust, feeling ridiculously close to tears over such a minor thing. "How am I supposed to fight like this?"

She did not sense Riordan move until his fingers were upon the back of her head, pulling her mouth against his. Her lips parted on a shocked gasp and stayed parted as his tongue thrust between and it felt good, Maker help her it felt good. He smelled good and tasted good and his kiss felt like life in the middle of death and she wanted more. Now she understood some of the desperate urgency that had driven Duncan on their flight from Highever to Ostagar.

Her fingers threaded through his dark hair and drew him in closer.

There was something wrong, she knew as she felt his lips upon her neck. Riordan was an attractive man, but there were many attractive men with whom she did not forget herself like this. Was it only the knowledge of her own mortality making her react this way, or was she drawn to him because he was also a Grey Warden? Perhaps because he understood in a way no other ever would, or perhaps it was more than that. Perhaps the taint drew them together. Was that why she had fallen in love with Alistair, rather than Zevran or Teagan or any other man she might have chosen?

It was hard to think, hard to do anything other than feel and respond. Riordan’s hands worked her shirt up and then his gloveless fingers delved down the front of her shift, drawing her breast out. She arched and swayed as his lips found her nipple and her milk began to flow with an mildly painful tingle. Without meaning to, she clutched at him, urged him on.

Her eyes opened when his mouth abandoned her breast to seek her lips again, her milk sweet on his tongue, and suddenly it was wrong. The wrong face, the wrong lips, the wrong man.

"No!" she gasped, jerking away from him. Riordan looked almost startled, but he quickly shook himself and regained his composure.

"I'm... terribly sorry, Elissa. I should not have done that," he apologized, and she knew he was sincere.

"No, it's all right, Riordan," she muttered, straightening her clothing. "I understand why it happened. I do. And I'm sorry. If circumstances were different, perhaps... but, no. If I'm to die, I don't want the very last thing I do to be betraying my husband. Even with another Grey Warden also bound to die."

"Of course, Elissa. Your Majesty," he corrected himself with a bow, and Elissa knew he would never allow himself to be informal with her again. A part of her regretted it, regretted that she could not offer him any greater comfort in his final days. "I will be departing within the hour. I do not imagine we shall ever see each other again."

"No, I doubt we shall, " she sighed, recalling Alistair's last words to Duncan. "May the Maker watch over you, Riordan."

"May He watch over you as well, Your Majesty," he said, bowing deeply, and then he turned and was gone.

---

The city quickly descended into utter chaos as news of the impending arrival of the darkspawn and the planned evacuation spread. Elissa's first command was to load as much of the food stores as possible onto the naval ships and send them to the ports at Highever and Amarathine to await the arrival of the refugees. Two more ships she dispatched to Highever with as many troops as she could spare and a small household staff. Their orders were to clear Howe's scum from Highever Castle in preparation for the arrival of the final ship, which she kept awaiting at the docks.

That final ship she boarded personally to discuss her plans with the captain. When the darkspawn horde was sighted, Elissa would send Ella in the company of Hortense and Alba to travel aboard it, in the company of a full three-quarters of the remaining palace guard. They were to wait at anchor far out in the harbor for a week, watching the city for a signal. If the signal came, it meant the city was secured and it would be safe to return with the princess. If the signal did not come, they were to sail to Highever and establish a household for the princess in the castle there and attempt to hold it against the progress of the darkspawn horde.

If it appeared Highever was to fall to the darkspawn as well, Ella was to be taken back aboard the ship and they were to sail for Antiva, where Alba and Hortense were to seek refuge with a noble family with whom her parents had formed close ties. They would bear a letter Elissa had written, pleading for sanctuary for the heir to the Fereldan throne.

The captain of the guard objected vigorously to her plan that they leave her with so few guarding the palace, until Elissa rounded on him in fury.

"She is the Theirin heir, not me!" she shouted, slamming her hand down upon a solid oaken table. "Your first duty is to protect the princess."

Her second order of business was a visit to the armorsmith Wade. She offered him an enormous bonus to remain in Denerim as long as possible and fashion for her a set of armor from the scales of the dragon they had slain while searching for the ashes of Andraste. Truthfully, it appeared it was the challenge of working with dragonscales, rather than the bonus, which kept him in Denerim. It felt strange to be wearing something heavier than her Dalish leather once again, and given the nature of the upcoming battle she knew ultimately the armor would make little difference, but it was finely crafted and comfortable and afforded far more protection, a fact which pleased her guards immensely.

She spent every moment she could with Ella, though those moments were far fewer than she would have liked. Much of her time was spent on the training grounds, where she worked herself to exhaustion trying to improve her skill with her blades as well as her bow, not knowing what it would take to bring down the archdemon. She knew it was foolish to delay Ella's departure, but if she was to die, she would not deprive herself of one day she might have spent with her child in her arms.

The city guard found it nearly impossible to quell all the looting and rioting took place as the evacuation gained momentum, and finally Elissa had to order them to concentrate all their efforts on getting as many refugees out of the city and on their way to the northern ports as possible. The shopkeepers would simply have to cope with their losses when they returned to find their stores looted.

The tenth day after Riordan departed, all that remained in the city were thieving gangs of thugs and a handful of stubborn souls who would not abandon their homes and belongings. Strangely, this actually made the city guards’ task easier, for now it was simpler to differentiate between the looters and the citizens.

Her temper grew shorter as the roar of the archdemon became a constant cacophony within her head and she ordered the guard not to trouble themselves attempting to arrest the looters and thugs who would prey on the weak, but to slay them. When the captain complained that too many of his men were being injured or intimidated in the performance of their duties, Elissa relieved him of his post and promoted Sergeant Kylon to Captain of the Guard. There was a rash of desertions as Kylon put an end to the former captain's policy of placating the noble bastards that had been posted to the guard, but almost immediately the remaining guard became a much more effective force.

On the twelfth day after Riordan's departure, scouts reported the darkspawn horde to be as near as Dragon's Peak. She spared a thought for Bann Sighard and wondered if he and his family had gotten out in time. Then she sent out word that the city guard should concentrate and reinforce the palace district; they could not hold the city, and it would only waste lives if they tried.

It was upon that day that Elissa personally carried Ella onto the ship she had kept at the docks for this moment. She sobbed openly as she kissed her babe for the final time and relinquished her to Hortense. When she returned to the palace, she bound her aching breasts tightly, knowing that without the babe to suckle for days or possibly weeks, even if she survived her milk might dry up before she saw Ella again. Following Alba's advice, when she could find the time, she used her hands, stroking firmly down her breasts to make the milk flow in an effort to simulate the demands of the babe and encourage her breasts to continue making milk, but it was likely to be a futile battle unless she could regain custody of her daughter soon. The ache of missing her babe was far worse than the agony of full and inadequately drained breasts, and she spent what few hours she could find to rest weeping miserably in her bed.

On the thirteenth day, the first wave of darkspawn breached the city gates. After an intense round of negotiations with the captain of her personal guard, Elissa agreed to wait safely within the palace until the location of the archdemon became known. She remained barricaded in the Great Hall, pacing before Alistair's throne, as reports from runners stationed around the city came in, telling with sectors were being overrun by the darkspawn and whether or not the archdemon had been sighted.

She could hear him, deafeningly loud within her head. So very near.

Lives were being lost to keep those runners stationed about the city, and yet they were her only window into the battle outside. The city gates had been breached. The Market District overrun. The Alienage besieged.

The final runner to arrive bore completely unexpected news. The royal army and their allied forces were at the city gates, engaging the bulk of the darkspawn horde.

Alistair!

She wanted to go to him, to help in the battle, but there was no way to break through the lines of the darkspawn already within the city to reach him. And so she waited, for what seemed to be endless hours, until the scream of the archdemon was heard overhead, shaking the palace walls.

Again and again they heard the archdemon roar and then there was a shriek that shattered the panes of glass in the windows followed by an tremendous crash in the distance that rumbled as though from deep within the ground. When her ears had stopped ringing enough for her to hear again, one of the guard that had been keeping watch upon the palace walls was reporting that the archdemon was atop Fort Drakon, apparently badly wounded.

"Then it's time," Elissa said grimly, taking up her bow. Her company of personal guardsmen fell into step around her as she marched grimly from the palace toward the fort.

It was clear from the scattered bodies of the darkspawn, the fallen elven archers, dwarven warriors, Circle mages and soldiers bearing the device of the Arl of Redcliffe that Alistair and his forces were ahead of her as she made her way through the palace district toward the prison. She cursed in frustration. She needed to get there ahead of him, but there were more waves of darkspawn, lighter, thinner, but nonetheless slowing her down. She could hear the constant, agonized roars of the archdemon as it lumbered, wounded, atop the prison. She discovered Riordan's ruined body quite by accident and panic seized her. She needed to move faster, before Alistair could deal the killing blow.

Once inside the fort, it was so loud she through surely the walls would begin to collapse, but still she moved forward. Her guardsmen fell one after the other as they fought to keep the darkspawn away from her, and still she moved forward. She stumbled over a familiar corpse and discovered it would no longer be necessary to petition the Landsmeet to unseat Arl Vaughan. Never again would he steal another elven woman from the Alienage. Despite her loathing for the man, she could not help but feel she'd failed in her duty for forgetting to evacuate the prison along with the rest of the city.

And still the archdemon screamed. More urgently now, as though engaged in battle. Elissa fairly flew through the last level of the fort, leaving her guards behind to deal with the darkspawn who would have delayed her. She rushed onto the roof to see a golden form she knew must be Alistair and his company battling the archdemon, who seemed to be staggering and growing weaker. It flew to a portion of the roof where it could not be reached by those with swords and Elissa added her arrows to those of the Dalish elves shooting at it, while the brightly colored flares of magic were flung through the darkened sky at the archdemon. Occasionally she caught a glimpse of someone she thought might have been Morrigan, or Leliana, or Wynne, but in the chaos she could not be certain. She did not know who among the company she had gathered still lived.

The roaring in her ears and in her mind was maddening, as yet she sent arrow after arrow into that horrid creature. It took clumsily to wing again, lumbering back into the fray with Alistair and the rest of their people. She saw it fling Alistair across the rooftop with a sweep of its head before it collapsed weakly and ceased to move.

Not dead. Not dead, she realized. The song was still there within her mind, that terrible roar that drove out all reason. No, there. It had moved. Only slightly, but it was trying to raise its head, trying to get up again. Closing her eyes for a moment, Elissa felt that calm, sure sense of purpose wash through her again. This was her chance, now, before the archdemon recovered.

Her daggers had been lost in one of the many skirmishes along the way to the top of the tower, and so she grabbed a sword sticking out of a darkspawn corpse and began running toward the archdemon.