People of Thedas

Disclaimer: Dragon Age belongs to BioWare, I'm making no profit.

Title:  A Sensible Reason
Mood: Angst
Rating: G
Characters: Wynne, f!Amell,, Loghain (in absentia)

This was the prompt:

“I wanna do a prompt, mememe.

Ahem.  Anyone like writing about Dog?  Not that this has to be Dog, but if this prompt phrase gets used for people then I'm betting it'll be a pretty pervy story.

Prompt phrase: "I do not like the Cone of Shame" (prompt phrase is property of Pixar)
Mood: Any
Bonus for making it not about Dog!”

Tehe... no dog and nothing pervy here... just a friendly fireside chat... Short.

I decided to interpret the Cone of Shame as a spell... well, this little story can be taken as a prequel to my little baby Bronto of a fic on ff.net

A Sensible Reason

by owlet

“I like to think of myself as a sensible person. I keep telling myself that you must have a reason for making that decision. And I would really like to know it.”

Ceridwen Amell didn't answer for a moment, and only the usual sounds of a the night reached her ears; the wind rustling in the trees, an owl's mournful cry, and the snap and crackle of the fire she was sitting near with Wynne, her party's healer and surrogate grandmother.

“Shouldn't you be resting?”

“I will, as soon as you have answered my question. Why did you spare him? He's a traitor, a king-slayer; and did you forget the slaves already?”

The younger mage picked up a twig and twirled it through her fingers absent-mindedly.

“I do not like the Cone of Shame, Wynne. And it won't work on me, not this time. You know, it is rather ironic – had you not interfered concerning Alistair and me, I probably would have started something with him, and maybe would have let him have his will. So in the end it was you who saved Loghain, not me.”

“Please spare me your sophistries, child,” Wynne huffed discontentedly.

“Fine. Just let me put my thoughts in order.”

Why had she spared him? The answer to this question had many layers.

“I suppose, it was a spur of the moment thing; but many things that happened to me during the last year influenced me in that moment. So please bear with me.”

Wynne drew her cloak tighter around her shoulders and nodded.

“When I was talking to Anora before the Landsmeet, I promised her that I would try to save him. When he surrendered after our duel, I just couldn't kill him on the spot, in front of his daughter, no less. That would have been monstrous. You might have noticed that I've never killed anyone who surrendered, so why would I have started with him?”

“It would have been justice.”

“Would it? Who am I to judge, Wynne, who are you? Do you remember the temple where Andraste's ashes rest?”

“Of course, child, how could I ever forget?”

“You were with me every step of the way. Didn't you learn anything? 'She wields the broken sword, and separates kings from tyrants. Of what do I speak?' I don't want to be a tyrant. Sometimes people are driven to do things they hate by fear. Jowan, Caridin, and yes, Duncan too... nobody showed them mercy. The only thing I have asked of Arl Eamon in return for saving him, his Arling and his family, was mercy for Jowan. Maybe he was just a maleficar to you; to me he was my best friend, who had gone down a forbidden path because he was afraid to lose himself. Caridin was afraid to lose his people to the Darkspawn. Duncan was afraid Ser Jory would reveal Grey Warden secrets so he killed him in cold blood when he refused to undergo the Joining. Do you see a pattern emerging?”

Wynne didn't say anything, she just stared into the flames; the flickering light painted her in orange and black, the shadows so much more vivid in her ageing face, making her seem even older.

“And then Branka. A truly brilliant woman – driven mad with fear and lust for glory, too far gone to see any other way, too far gone to trust and surrender. It pained me to take her life, it still does. We were on the same side, Wynne. We had a common enemy!”

Ceridwen fell silent for a moment and bit down on her frustration.

“So when Loghain surrendered I was glad. He wouldn't force me to kill him. He is a great fighter and most of Ferelden's soldiers are loyal to him; it would have been such a waste. And then Alistair demanded his head. Demanded that I killed him in front of his daughter - I was shocked. Who would have thought that our lovable Alistair could be so cold, so unfeeling, so bloody petulant. How he went on after that, that I had broken his heart – well, he broke mine too. How could he ever ask me to do such a thing? I dearly hope Anora can keep him on a leash until he finally grows up, or the future of this country is looking very bleak indeed,” Ceridwen said bitterly, throwing her twig into the fire.

“Can you fault Alistair for seeking justice?”

Ceridwen shot Wynne a dirty look and stared back at the flames.

“No. But I can fault him for seeking a pointless revenge. Killing Loghain won't make Duncan come back to life, it would just deprive Ferelden of her best general. The only one around who actually knows how to organize an army – I don't know about you, but I don't have a clue how to do that. Neither does Arl Eamon. He's never fought a war either.”

“I ... see your point. But you spend a lot of time with him,” Wynne said, looking at the younger mage reproachfully.

Ceridwen snorted.

“Are you afraid he'll corrupt me? You seem to forget that I'm thoroughly tainted already. It doesn't get worse than this, believe me. Whatever he says is nothing against hearing the Archdemon screaming in my head. Besides, didn't I spend a lot of time with you too? Or with the others? Getting to know them, making them more comfortable with me and the rest of the party. I'm not going to treat him any differently. There is no reason to.”

“As long as that is the only reason,” Wynne said, piecing her with her eyes.

“Of course it is. What else would it be?”

The Healer nodded and bid Ceridwen goodnight before retiring to her tent.

The Warden bit her lip and stared into the flames some more, glad that the reddish glow had hidden her blush.

Her last answer had been an outright lie.