The Fallen Lady

Day 1:

"In the name of the Maker, I cast you down!" screamed a beautiful voice. An elegant sword was swung across a pleading mage's throat. In the same motion the sword was sheathed. The voice suddenly shifted from one of condemnation to one of sentiment. "May you find peace at His side."

"Andraste!"a man with a hefty voice yelled. "Andraste!"

Andraste turned to see her mortal husband. "Maferath!" She smiled happily. "What is it, my love?"

"Why must you run into the heat of battle? You worry me whenever you do so."

"I apologize for worrying, you, my love. But you need not worry. The Maker shall protect me. He always does." She cupped his face in her hand, reassuring him. Maferath turned away from her touch.

"I am your husband. I am more than capable of protecting you." At that Maferath stormed off.

"My Lady!" Andraste turned to see another familiar face.

"Hello, Shartan." The elf jogged up to her and bowed formally. "I had been meaning to speak with you."

"Of course, my Lady," Shartan said, enthusiastic.

"Do you know how far we are from Minrathous?"

The elf perked his ears, and after several seconds said, "Two days from here. I would suggest we clear the dead and camp here. Night approaches."

"Very well." Andraste called for a lieutenant and gave the order.


Night 1:

Andraste sat in a tub of water within her tent. Her servant girl asked, "Do you need anything else, my Lady?"

"No, thank you. You may go if you wish."

"Yes, my Lady." And she departed.

Andraste rose from her tub and robed herself in lavender. She exited her tent and walked towards the middle of the camp. Upon reaching her destination she began to sing. Her voice brought all in the camp to her. Andraste ceased and spoke. We are gathered here under the Maker's eye. May all who accept his light be blessed!" There was a wave of cheers through the crowd. "We are nearing the end of this our Exalted March. The magisters of Tevinter, who have thus far cowardly hidden within their towers at Minrathous, will be forced to stand their ground and face their destiny!" Andraste paused and finally shouted, "Which is to fall to ours and the Maker's might!" The troops all cheered at the top of their lungs, thanking the Maker and praising Andraste. "Now, retire to your tents and rest well. We march early tomorrow." She laughed at the scattered groans, and scanned the camp for Maferath. He was not to be found.


Day 2:

Andraste and her army marched onward the following day. The march was uneventful till midday. The army was met by a large battalion led by a mage in deep blue robes. A messenger was sent out in between the two forces. "Halt your march woman, or we will halt you ourselves!"

"Many have stood before us and said as you have. None have truly had the power to back up their threat. What makes this battalion any different?" Andraste asked calmly.

"Look!" The messenger pointed towards the mage at the lead. "That is one of the great magisters of Tevinter."

Maferath stepped from behind Andraste and said, "He does not look so great."

"Silence, fool! Your betters are speaking!" The messenger snapped. Andraste drew her sword.

"That is my husband you speak to," She hissed, slitting her eyes.

The messenger laughed heartily. "You can not even reach me from there. Ignorant woman!" He began to laugh again, but was cut short. A blade of light had slashed through his neck.


Night 2:

The battle had worn Andraste. The magister was one of the strongest men she had ever faced. If this awaited her at the capital, she would need to ask the Maker for more strength. She sat down and crossed her legs, preparing to meditate, but Shartan flew into her tent disrupting her concentration.

"My Lady! I must speak with you. It is a matter of great importance," the elf said frantically.

"Not now, Shartan. I must speak with the Maker."

"Please, my Lady. It is about Maferath."

"Very well. Speak your mind Shartan."

"I fear Maferath is attempting to betray you, my Lady."

Shock splayed across Andraste's face."No he would never. Maferath and I love each other.It is not possible."

"You can kill a dozen men with a single swipe of your sword,but you say this is not possible.His love," Shartan sneered the word,"changes nothing. He will try to–"

"Enough!" Andraste shrieked, "Please leave."Shartan merely stood there wide-eyed." Now!"Shartan let out a heavy sigh, and he walked out.

Andraste settled down as best she could. She needed Him. She began to call to the Maker deep within her thoughts. Maker, please hear me. I desperately need your guidance.  
pleas were met with silence. Please! Only you can end my troubles. Andraste tried for hours to reach the Maker, but to no avail.

                                    *****

"You can promise us this, Maferath?"

"Of course I can," Maferath sneered.

"Then it is agreed. Andraste is to be delivered to us tonight."

                                    *****

Andraste awoke with a jolt. Maferath was shaking her. "What is it, love?"

"Walk with me. We haven't walked in a long time."

"It's late, but…all right." She began to reach for her sword, but Maferath stopped her.

"It's just a walk, Andraste. We won't go far."

"As you wish, love." Andraste got up and walked with Maferath out of the tent. They continued on past a hill that hid the camp from view. "Maferath, I don't feel comfortable getting out of view of the camp without my sword."

"Do not worry, Andraste. You needn't concern yourself with that anymore."

"'Anymore'? What do you mean?" At these words Andraste felt her body tighten with invisible restraints, and then a powerful force knocked her to the ground.

"Thank you for this, Maferath," came a mysterious voice.

"You are welcome Hessarian. Now as for payment…"

"Yes. All the lands in southern Tevinter are yours now."

"You are most gracious." Andraste looked into Maferath's eyes, and tried to curse his name. The magic bound her voice. Hessarian called several slaves to him and ordered them to carry Andraste.

"All that is left is for you to deliver the army. We will crush them at Minrathous."

"Very well," Maferath said."What will be done with her?"

"You shall see tomorrow." Hessarian turned abruptly and walked off, his slaves at his heels.

Andraste tried hard to fight back tears.


Day 3:

The army marched onward until finally they laid eyes upon Minrathous. Tall, elegant spires clawed towards the heavens, and two huge statues stood at the sides of the magnificent gates.

Shartan walked up to Maferath and confronted him. "Where is Andraste, Maferath? You told us she would meet us here."

"Rest assured, Shartan, she will be here."

Maferath gave no more than that, leaving the elf's brow furrowed in anger until the gates finally opened. Thousands marched out like spawn from hell, magisters and their slaves toward the rear with Archon Hessarian at the lead. The opposing army split down the middle, making way for a platform with someone tied to the stake that was set upon it. Muffled whispers spread through the army. "Who is it?" many asked. When the platform was pulled from the shadows the whispers ceased. Shartan uttered one word. "Andraste."

                                      *****

Andraste looked upon the army she once led. So this is my fate. To be ridiculed and killed in front of my men. Her eyes fell to Maferath. Maker forgive you, Maferath, because I won't. Then she looked toward Shartan, and started to cry. He warned her, but she refused to believe him. I am so sorry, she wanted to say, but could only do so with her eyes. He nodded his head in acknowledgement.

Hessarian began to speak from somewhere behind her, "Look upon your leader fools! Look how she is ridiculed before you! Now may her death serve as a reminder of why the Imperium rules!"

Flames erupted from all around Andraste, burning her feet. Her hair was lifted in the heat, and her tears began to evaporate in the heat. Andraste felt that the magic holding her voice had lifted. The archon wanted her to scream. She could not give him the satisfaction. Instead of what was expected, Andraste began to sing. She sung the plea that called the Maker to her, and many joined in. However, the fire broke her in the end. Her screams silenced the spectators, but she turned her head towards the sky.

She screamed her Maker's name. Her eyes never left the sky until Hessarian stood before her. At that moment Andraste spoke her final words. "Maker have mercy on you, Hessarian, and may He one day decide to keep you." The smoky air failed to stifle her voice.

"The Maker will waste no mercy on me. But I will give my mercy to you." Andraste looked at him as if he was daft. But she understood when his blade pierced her breast. Light shined down on the spire, and Andraste looked up. All who were there saw one final smile play across her face before the flames swirled upwards into a pillar. After what seemed like hours the flames diminished to embers. All that was left of Andraste was a pile of ashes eager to spread in the wind.