Epilogue: Awakening

Percy had never thought he'd be following this road again. After everything that had happened, there was a pall over the very idea of it in his mind.. These lands were corrupted by the name of the one who had owned it, and he had never wanted anything to do with it. The road was empty and war-torn, yet the fields and copses of trees showed growth. Renewal.

Also, rain.

It seemed that Alistair had finally found that fitting punishment he'd threatened, when they'd thrust the crown at him all those months ago.

Percy sighed and reached a hand up to the amulet at his chest. There lay his Warden's Oath amulet, filled with the blood of the Joining, reminding him of his duty and his life. And there, tied into it now, was the ring.

She'd left it by the bed. There was no note, no explanation at all, simply the ring. Sometimes, though, when he held it, he felt a pang of sorrow or regret that wasn't his own. It was as tied to him as the Tainted blood in his veins.

The entire Blight seemed like a long dream... or perhaps a nightmare. The deaths of his family, Ostagar, the other Wardens, Morrigan, the Landsmeet, the Battle of Denerim... sometimes he felt that he was trapped in the Fade, in a reality not his making, and he might release himself had he only the willpower. He set his hand to the ring, and knew that, wherever she was, Morrigan was feeling the same.

Hugo made a sound, and Percival glanced down at his only traveling companion. The mabari had shattered his shoulder during the battle with the archdemon, and even now walked with a slight limp. He would likely carry that to the end of his days, just as Percival's once Maker-blessed face now had a set of craggy claw scars across it. The scars still twinged, sometimes, when darkspawn were near.

Now, Hugo's attention was turned forward, to the road ahead, and Percival followed the hound's gaze. Sure enough, a lone figure was running toward him. Beyond it, he could make out the sillhouette of a fort in the distance. His destination, if memory served.

The figure resolved itself into an armored knight sporting the local colors. She stopped in front of Percival, and he regarded her curiously. "Is everything all right, miss?"

"Yes, fine..." she panted. "Are you... the Warden-Commander?"

Percy fought not to flinch. Well, it wasn't like the appointment had surprised him. It was just official now, stamped and sealed straight from Weisshaupt. "I am. Percival Cousland, at your service."

"We were told you'd be coming." She straightened and saluted. "I'll be your escort to the keep."

He allowed a small smile. "I wasn't aware that I needed one, but thank you."

"It wasn't my idea. I certainly wouldn't accuse the Hero of Ferelden of needing to be walked across the arling. But the seneschal sent me, so here I am."

"Ah, yes. Bureaucrats do tend to be overly sensitive to such things." He started down the road again, the knight falling in step by his side opposite his mabari. "I suppose I'll have to get used to it, if I'm to be the arl as well as the commander."

She bobbed a nod and sent him a hesitant smile. "That you will. Still, it will be a relief to have some order here again."

"I'll do my best. What may I call you?"

"Oh, right. I'm Ser Mhairi, sir. And if I may say so, welcome to Amaranthine."