It was decided that Kitranna would take her group to the Wilds, possibly passing through Ostagar, before meeting with Eamon and Teagan at Eamon's estate in Denerim. The hope was that Eamon's allegiance would convince the other nobility that the Gray Wardens were not to blame for Cailan's death. It was possible that some would take Alistair's push for the throne and Cailan's recent death as suspicious, but with the darkspawn so quickly approaching, the nobility would have less time to devote to theories such as that.
Eamon gave Alistair a shield, one of those that were given to the knights of Redcliffe. Alistair was the only one who could use it effectively, else Eamon probably would have given it to Kitranna.
The group would stay at Redcliffe for a few more days, while gathering supplies, arranging transportation, and finishing up other errands. Kitranna, Alistair and Fiona still had to meet with Oshathyla and Ambassador Talvi, as well as Senior Enchanter Irving and Knight-Commander Gregoire in order to try and coordinate the disparate groups.
Oshathyla had said that Clan Leanvunlas was contacting other Clans, and attempting to form an internal alliance that could provide more aid to the Wardens' cause. Clan Leanvunlas was likely the largest Clan in Ferelden, comprised of five hundred people in total, most of whom were civilians. However, the total population of Dalish individuals in Ferelden numbered somewhere in the thousands (Oshathyla was not entirely sure, as they did not exactly take census of their people, but last headcount it had been something along those lines). The original Gray Warden treaties had been formed when the Dalish still had a formal military, so in order to effectively honor the treaties, Clan Leanvunlas had called a makeshift Arlathvhen for all the nearest Clans.
Some Clans were more than ready to fight the darkspawn, comprised of many hunters, mages, and healers, but others were not so sure. Many were extremely wary and would need more than ancient Warden treaties to lend their strength to that of the Gray Wardens'.
According to Ambassador Talvi, Orzammar was also having some inter-community strife. Although Culwydd's ascension to the throne had been fairly smooth, there were still many supporters of both Bhelen and Harromont. Culwydd's decision to immediately become involved in surfacer matters didn't help her popularity, and although tensions were not nearly as high as they had been immediately following King Endrin's death, the nobility were currently attempting to tie Culwydd's decisions up in bureaucracy.
The Legion of the Dead, a faction in and of itself, also patently refused to help with any surfacer problems until the situation became severe enough for their standards. They fought darkspawn so often that although the Archdemon fazed them, they still did not consider the disparate horde on the surface a true darkspawn army, and believed the real fight was still in the Deep Roads.
Some of the Merchant's Guild were also getting their feathers ruffled by Culwydd's sudden interest in the surface. For quite a long time, the seat of Orzammar government had had little to no interest in the doings of the Merchant's Guild, apart from the the goods that could be shipped to Orzammar. Now, Culwydd not only wanted to lend her armies to the Gray Wardens, but she had been trying to learn what the Merchant's Guild had been doing recently.
Lastly there was the Circle—unfortunately Calenhad had far fewer mages than it once did, and had suffered Templar casualties as well. Mages and Templars were both being dispatched from other Circles, but it would take them months to get to Ferelden.
The closest Circle was Jainen, in the Waking Sea, but considering the time of year and the fact that Jainen was extremely small it was unlikely they could provide much aid. Montsimmard, Ostwick, the Kirkwall Circle and the White Spire were all much larger than Jainen, but both Montsimmard and the White Spire were in Orlais, and Ostwick and the Kirkwall Circle were in the Free Marches, all four far too far away to be of any practical use.
The low number of mages meant a lower number of spirit healers, enchanted armor and weaponry, and poorer defense against darkspawn Emissaries.
Fortunately, the Dalish had their own mages and the dwarves had their own enchanters, but less fortunately the Dalish were very leery about working with Templars, and Templars with Dalish mages. Several Clans with a high number of mages had denied the alliance with the Wardens for the precise reason that they feared what would happen if the Templars learned of them.
All of that didn't even begin to address the logistical difficulties with trying to get dwarves, Dalish, mages and Templars to all meet in one small Ferelden town without strangling each other.
The Dalish gathered in the woods were starting to spook the residents of Redcliffe and the Hinterlands, dwarven warriors frequently got into fights with Ferelden ones, and there had been at least one altercation between a Dalish Keeper, a Templar, and a Circle mage where the Keeper had broken the Templar's nose. Accusations of blood magic were thrown around, dwarven merchants got into fist fights with the local Redcliffe merchants, there were language difficulties abound, and Redcliffe was still attempting to recover from the undead attack of several months ago.
It was an absolute mess, and Kitranna strongly suspected that the only reason Redcliffe hadn't been razed to the ground was the imminent threat of darkspawn invasion.
While Kitranna attempted to mediate the disparate groups, Fiona went to see Arl Eamon.
He had recovered enough that he was no longer confined to his bed, and was no usually to be found in his office, where Fiona met him.
“Arl Eamon,” Fiona said, closing the door behind her.
“Warden,” Eamon inclined his head. “Please, do excuse me—I have a great deal of work I must be doing,” he gestured to the paperwork scattered across his desk.
Fiona looked down. “Mm,” she grunted. “I see.” she clicked the tips of her fingernails together. “Arl, about this plan to have Alistair take the throne--”
Eamon sighed. “I know of your objections to the plan. He is not experienced enough, he does not wish it—but if Teagan or I were to push for the throne, we would appear opportunists, using the war to our own advantage.”
“And appearing with a mystery heir will not result in the same thing?” Fiona crossed her arms.
“He appears far more legitimate than anyone else.”
“You also gave him to the Chantry as a child, where he was then conscripted by the Wardens,” Fiona said, her voice icy. “You appear as an opportunist anyway, with your apparent willingness to ignore inconvenient people until they suddenly become useful.”
Eamon blinked at her, his eyes narrowed. “Why does this concern you so? I beg your pardon, Warden, but this is only your affair through your status as a Warden. What does an Orlesian elf mage concern herself so with Ferelden politics?”
“Do you know who Alistair's mother is?”
“A scullery made, or somesuch,” Eamon said, waving his hand. “Does it matter?”
Fiona sucked in a breath and steeled herself. “No,” she said. “No, that is not true.”
Eamon glanced at her. “Then who--?” he paused, looking her over more intently. “...ah.” he folded his hands behind his back. “I was under the impression that Gray Wardens are incapable of bearing children, as Alistair said.”
“My case is a unique one,” Fiona said, watching Eamon as he began to pace. “Even the other Wardens cannot explain it. The fact that remains is that he is my son, and Maric gave him to your household to keep him safe, which you appear to have done an astonishingly poor job at.”
Eamon spread his hands. “It was years ago,” he said. “Isolde would not tolerate any child who was not her own.”
“She is your wife,” Fiona snapped. “You should have stood up to her, not thrown the child of Maric to the Chantry!”
“What of you?' Eamon exclaimed. “You are not part of the Circle, you are a Warden—why could Alistair not have been raised at Weisshaupt?”
“The half-elf son of a mage who isn't even a proper Warden anymore?” Fiona sneered. “Please. Have some sense in your head. Would a half-elf child really be given the respect a human child would?”
Eamon waved a dismissive hand. “I see you have very righteous leanings,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Surely you must be able to appreciate what must be done here. If your worry is for Alistair, he could hardly do better than to become the King!”
“He is my son! My son!” Fiona snapped, throwing her hands up. “You cannot simply throw him away until you need him for political leverage!”
“He has a duty to the Kingdom,” Eamon insisted, putting his hand on the table.
“And you had a duty to Maric,” Fiona jabbed her finger in Eamon's face. “You had a duty to raise his son properly, not use him as a pawn!”
“Yes, I see you must know a great deal about raising children, having given yours away,” Eamon snapped.
Fiona slapped him. For a moment they both stood there in silence, the echo of the slap ringing in their ears.
“You will find a better way,” Fiona hissed, then turned on her heel and left. Fiona slammed the door to the office and stamped down the hall, encountering Kitranna, who had heard the noise.
“Problem?” Kitranna said.
Fiona growled something in Orlesian.
“I don't speak Orlesian,” Kitranna said.
Fiona shook her head. “It is old wounds,” she said, her accent thicker than usual. “You need not concern yourself with it.”
Later, Alistair came to find Fiona.
“Did you really have a shouting match with Arl Eamon?”
Fiona glanced at Alistair. “Why?”
“Well, he told me that you did,” Alistair said with a shrug. “I..” he rubbed the back of his head. “He said it was about me.”
Fiona grunted.
“You know, Eamon did the best he could--”
“No, he did not,” Fiona muttered. “He should have done better.”
“It wasn't so bad, really,” Alistair assured her. “I turned out alright, didn't I?”
Fiona smiled a bit. “You are a fine lad, it is true,” she said. “The best I could have hoped for. But...”
“But what?”
“If I had...” she sighed. “Perhaps I could have raised you myself, in Weisshaupt,” she said. “Perhaps I did not need to have sent you away. There was no reason for the Circle to demand my presence back, perhaps they would have just...forgotten me.”
“From what I know of the Circle? Not likely, even for Wardens.”
“I know,” Fiona said. “I am well aware.” she rubbed her forehead. “I sent you to Eamon so you could have a better life,” she said. “Where no one knew you were the son of an elf and a mage. Not so Eamon could toss you aside until he needed your bloodline.”
“Would it really have been so terrible if people knew you were my mother?” Alistair asked quietly. “I would've liked to know.”
Fiona looked up at him. He towered over her, even when they were both sitting down.
“I am sorry,” she whispered. “I would have loved nothing more than to have kept you with me.”
“But you didn't.”
“No, I did not. Alistair, you--” she sighed and rubbed her forehead. “It is better if people see you as human. As an elf, well...the best we could have hoped for was acceptance by a Dalish Clan. And they do not like half-bloods.”
“I did notice that,” Alistair nodded. “But what about an Alienage? Or Weisshaupt? Or--”
“Have you ever been to an Alienage?”
“No.”
Fiona sighed heavily. “Alistair, the elves you know are either Wardens, assassins, or servants. What does that tell you?”
“There's also the Dalish,”
“And they live in the woods, always on the run from Templars and angry humans. What does that say to you?”
“...nothing good.” Alistair admitted.
Fiona nodded. “No. No it does nott.” she pursed her lips. “Not to mention that if the Wardens had decided to send me back to the Circle—which they were deliberating the entire time I was pregnant, and after you were born—you would have been taken away from me anyway.”
“Yeah,” Alistair said quietly. “Yes, I know that. I know about that.”
“I do wish I could have raised you myself,” she said. “But—I could not. I am attempting to make up for it now.”
“Well, helping kill Darkspawn is pretty great. Don't know anyone who can say their mums do that.”
Fiona smiled. “I'm glad.”