Title: Six Degrees
Author: J.E Talveran
Rating: M

Summary: In the year 9:30, six remarkably different individuals find themselves drafted into a plot to unite Ferelden to stop a looming Blight. An AU version of the game.

Disclaimers: *Legal* DA:O does not belong to me whatsoever, but there are original characters and plots that do. There will be slash ahead, of both the male and female sort. There will be no Alistair romancing of any sort in this tale, so if he is a half of your Dragon Age OTP, I'm afraid you'll be disappointed.

Author's Note: This idea came about when I saw a wallpaper on DeviantArt combining all the Origin images into one. It was super. It was awesome. It smacked me so hard upside the head with ideas that it pushed all other creative projects to the wayside.

Aeducan: Betrayal

The clang of metal against heated metal rang out through the Commons, thundering over the booming voices of merchants hawking their wares. The competition was intense; the recent influx of merchants from the surface caste had set the Orzammar inhabitants on edge. Since the orders from the Assembly were to keep up the act until the return from the Deep Roads later that day, nearly every inch of free space the merchants could scrape together was filled with stocked crates and display racks.

"It seems like the recent Deep Road excursions are helping Orzammar to thrive this season," Gorim's voice was a low rumble that was barely heard over the deafening roar of the Commons. Duran Aeducan's Second shouldered past a servant bearing a pot as he fought to keep up with the Prince amidst the crowd's chaos.

"Every tunnel we clear out means a prospective salvage site for the scavengers and looters." Aeducan nodded to two stout men from the Warrior Caste as side-stepped and saluted when he passed. "It bleeds new life into the city, even as Orzammar returns her sons and daughters to the Stone."

Gorim let out a quick bark of laughter. "Spoken just like Trian."

Aeducan's brow furrowed at the mention of Trian. His youngest brother, Bhelen, had sounded sincere in his worry about Trian's new motivations and back-alley deals, but it was Trian they had discussed. Trian, the heir to the Orzammar throne.

"He fears that the Assembly will favor you when the time comes," Bhelen had whispered, seemingly fearful that the walls of Trian's room had ears to hear the treachery being spoken within them. "I fear Trian will try to kill you, big brother."

At the time, surrounded by the warmth of the Stone and the heirlooms of forefathers past, Duran Aeducan, second son to King Endrin Aeducan, had vehemently called for the slander to stop, telling Bhelen that it was shameful of him to think of their brother as low as at, but surrounded by the bustle of the city, watching the merchants play at undercutting their opponents, the seed of doubt Bhelen had planted was beginning to sprout.

"Sir?"

Aeducan mentally waved away his worries and turned to face Gorim. "Come; let us take a drink in the Tappers, for old time's sake."

"Yes'sir." Gorim nodded and led them to the out of the way tavern that was famed for its discreet policy. It was situated far from the Diamond Quarter's access tunnel, and as such wasn't as guarded as the other taverns on the Common's level. It was a perfect hide-a-way for those who weren't wishing to be found.

The bar's patrons glanced their way once, when the door opening announced the arrival of a new customer, but soon they were deep in their cups and conversations; they were more concerned about their own affairs then the affairs of a couple of warriors grabbing a last drink before the Deep Roads. Gorim found them a table near the back, with both seats offering an excellent view of the entrance and the rest of the establishment. After they settled in, a pretty waitress with hair the color of polished bronze flashed them a smile as she jotted down their orders. Gorim's eyes lingered on her as she sauntered back to the counter.

"When do you think you'll marry?" He asked, his eyes still wandering.

Aeducan rolled his shoulders in an exaggerated shrug. "Probably depends on if one of those two wenches manages to pop out a whelp later this year."

Gorim chuckled, returning his attention to his Prince. "Yes, because that was the hardest conquest you've had yet to date, my Prince."

Aeducan allowed himself a quick and lustful grin as the memory of hands and skin and gasps pleasantly occupied his thoughts for a moment. "It was a good thing I trained for endurance for Proving Matches. They were quite a handful—"

"Two handfuls!" Gorim slapped a hand on Aeducan's shoulder. "Was it just last week you were complaining that the diplomacy lessons your mother had forced upon you were worthless, and yet, look what you accomplished."

Aeducan nodded as the waitress returned with their drinks. He picked his up and raised it in a toast. "To Mother."

"To the Queen, the Stone strengthen her." The two of them drank deep of their cups.

"She was a strong woman." Aeducan said quietly, the mood shifting to a somber realization of what was to come later that day. Gorim stayed silent as Aeducan lamented, knowing that it wasn't his place to comfort the Prince. He watched as the older warrior steadied himself for what could possibly be his last days walking, after all, the Darkspawn were a deadly threat that only grew as the days went on.

Still, his Prince was a son of the Aeducan line, the first defender against the Darkspawn, and to this day the last defender against the Darkspawn. Duran Aeducan knew his duty as Prince, and Gorim knew his as the Prince's Second, so when Aeducan's eyes became as hard as cold steel, Gorim knew it was time to descend into the Deep Roads.

They stood like one unit, and with heavy steps they moved towards the door. The patrons turned to give them a second glance as they were leaving, each one knowing that this might just be the last time either man would be seen again; two more of Orzammar's sons walking towards potential doom so that the rest of them could drink in peace.

*

The walk back across the Commons and to the gaping blackness that signaled the city's access to the Deep Roads that burrowed far beneath the lava and steam of the city was filled with a tension that only grew as the two warriors were saluted by the guards they passed. When the great doors of the city shut behind them, leaving them in only the flickering torchlight of the mine, Gorim found it proper to speak again, even if to just gesture for the way to go. The labyrinthine mine opened up onto a small crossroads where the King and the other commanders were standing and speaking of plans.

"Prince Trian and his men will clear the way for most of the army to descend into the easternmost caverns." Lord Harrowmont was finishing up as Aeducan and Gorim approached. They slowed to a stop as the King turned to his eldest son and clasped a hand over his shoulderguard. "May the Paragons favor you, and the Stone catch you if you fall." His hand lingered a moment, then he stepped back as Trian saluted him, then turned to his own men.

"Come, men, glory awaits!" The Prince bellowed as his Second gave the signal to move out. The cavern was filled with the jangle of plate and mail armor as the contingent of soldiers moved into the inky black of the eastern Deep Roads. As the last of the warriors disappeared, Lord Harrowmont turned to the youngest Prince.

"Bhelen, you and your men will second the king, clearing the main road."

"I will be with you momentarly, my son; Lord Harrowmont and I need to have words with your sibling."

Bhelen nodded, then turned to his older brother and saluted. "Good luck, my brother." He then gestured to his small unit of soldiers and moved off to give the three men their privacy.

Aeducan turned back to Lord Harrowmont as the lord spoke once more. "Your father has a special mission for you."

The King nodded. "Further back in the eastern Deep Roads, there is a secret door carved into the stone. The door leads to a thaig abandoned long ago by your ancestors. The Darkspawn have made it impossible to reach." He paused a moment. "Inside, the Shield of our house still rests. If you reclaim it, my son, glory will be yours."

Aeducan slowly bowed his head in agreement, not sure why this task wasn't falling to the House Heir, but he had never had reason before to question his father. "The Shield of Aeducan would be quite the find," he finally said, opting for the diplomatic route.

Lord Harrowmont pointed to where the Prince and Gorim were to head. "We've sent two scouts ahead to make sure the tunnels are clear, but be careful. One of the scouts will meet you at the first crossroads you come to; the second will be further in. When you get to the thaig's door, use your signet ring to open it. Questions?"

It was a task suited for a child, but Aeducan shook his head. "Find the door, grab the shield. Got it."

Lord Harrowmont gave him an appraising look, but shook it off. "Very good. The crossroads where you meet the first scout will be the rendezvous point. There, you can present the shield to the lords and demonstrate the strength of Aeducan!"

King Endrin once more rested his hand upon the shoulder of a son he was sending into battle. "May the ancestors watch over you, my child."

Aeducan bowed his head once more. He stepped back beside Gorim and offered a formal salute before turning on a heel to make for the tunnel pointed out. They passed by Bhelen, who didn't look up to catch his brother's eye one last time.

*

The retrieval of the Shield had been relatively simple. Frandlin Ivo had been uncharacteristically nervous, nothing like how the man had been painted out to be from what Lord Harrowmont's assessment of him a few days prior. Briefly, Aeducan had wondered if the young warrior was still shy after being granted the Proving Helm, but the lad's nerves didn't seem to falter in the presence of the Darkspawn. Whoever Lord Harrowmont had sent out to clear the tunnels had done a terrible job as each twist in the maze only brought more screams and guttural war cries as genloks rushed the warriors.

The thaig's door had been wide open when they finally reached it. Gorim began to rumble something about Bhelen's theory being correct, but Aeducan's glare had killed the comment before it was even issued. When the mercenary's leader hand fell open to reveal Trian's signet ring, though, Aeducan could only swallow the bile that swelled in his throat and tighten his grip on his sword.

"We will deal with this when we return." He said as explanation to Gorim as they stepped over the dead. Though Aeducan had never been here before, he felt drawn to one door in particular, back in the shadows, nearly blocked off by a rock fall. His sword and shield were set against the wall as he turned back to shove away some of the debris. His mail armor was slick with the gore of the battles fought to reach this door and the wetness caused his gauntlets to slip over some of the smoother rocks. Still, he pushed and heaved through the crumbling stone until there was enough space for a full-sized dwarf to slip inside.

"Here."

He collected his gear before he ducked inside and the coolness of the tomb, for that's what it seemed to be, was a relief from the blazing heat of the Deep Roads. Soft white light emanated from crystals embedded in the tomb's wall, giving the place a quiet, serene feeling. His footfalls echoed through the space as he approached the central sarcophagus. With a long intake of breath, he pressed the signet ring against the indentation on the stone.

Nothing.

Aeducan pushed down the sudden urge to slump in defeat. The mercenaries had ample time to loot the thaig; they had caught them in the middle of tugging sacks out of one of the buildings. The rock fall could have been an attempt to cover up their tracks. Still, the place looked like it hadn't seen a living soul in ages.

"Check around, see if there's anything we missed!" He barked out the order even as he ran his hand over the edge of the sarcophagus, searching for a latch, or a switch, or anything to release the seal.

Ivo moved around his right, while the nameless scout went to the left. Both were sliding their hands over the walls, the pillars, even casting their feet experimentally along the floor. They met at the far wall then shook their heads. "Nothing, sir."

Gorim walked up to reach Aeducan's side. He stepped up onto the raised dais that the sarcophagus was on.

"Wait!" Aeducan spun around, looking directly at Gorim. "What did you just do?"

Gorim blinked. "Nothing, my lord. I was approaching to see if I could offer fresh eyes."

Aeducan waved off the words, critically studying his Second. He had heard something give, he was sure of it. "Whatever you just did, do it again—"

"—but my lord…"

"Do it, Gorim!"

Gorim hastily stepped back and Aeducan could hear a soft sigh of air. He watched as a panel below Gorim's feet slowly rose back to become level with the dais. He allowed himself a quick smile of victory, and then pointed to the scout and Ivo. "You, and you! Come here." He directed them to two other suddenly visible differences in the stone tiles on the dais. "There, Ivo. And you, Scout, stand here."

As each of the men stepped where Aeducan directed, the warrior could hear the subtle shift of something falling into place. Then, he nodded to Gorim to replace his footing. With the third tile pressed, the slide of a catch was audible to all of them. Aeducan returned to the sarcophagus and pressed the ring once more into the indentation. This time, it was able to be twisted, and with the movement, the lid slid back to reveal the dusty, but still intact Shield of House Aeducan.

Aeducan reached in with reverent hands and plucked the treasure from its place. The shield was pitted, and scarred from countless Darkspawn attacks, but the intricate rune that was the symbol of House Aeducan was still visible. It was a kite shield, and from a glance looked to be made of simple steel.

"That's it. We've got it!" Gorim sounded incredulous, and Aeducan had to agree with his sentiment as he studied the massive shield.

"It doesn't look like much."

Ivo nodded, agreeing to the Scout's thoughts. "The skill of our crafters has come far since then. But still … the Shield of Aeducan."

Aeducan knelt and wrapped the shield in a length of cloth he had brought along. "The strength of the Paragon is in this shield."

"I can feel it. It's … inspirational."

"If you say so. It's just a shield." The scout scoffed. The three men, each of a noble house, just exchanged a knowing look. A Common-blood would never understand what it meant.

"Enough talk." Aeducan picked up the wrapped bundle and directed his gaze to the scout. "Where is the rendezvous point?"

"Back in the direction we came from, at the crossroads.

"To the crossroads, then."

Water was dripping onto rock somewhere in the distance. The sound bounced off the walls of the tunnel they were in, disorientating in it's echo. The scout had taken point, and so far, had managed to avoid any Darkspawn patrols that might have been in the area. Aeducan was grateful for the guide, he felt like they were walking in circles, everything looked the same. He glanced over as Gorim matched his pace.

"If Train were really scheming against us, this would be the perfect place for an ambush. We've got the shield," he pointed to the bundle tucked underneath Aeducan's own shield, "and we're all alone out here."

Aeducan frowned. "Keep your wits about you then."

"Of course." Gorim nodded and fell back to take the rear once more.

"What's that you're muttering about?" The scout tossed the question over a shoulder, more concerned with tracking their progress.

"Keep your mind on the mission." Aeducan snapped. The scout agreed right away, but it did little to please the Prince. Something was brewing, whether it was a betrayal by Trian or something else.

The crossroads were reached without incident; the floor littered with the bodies of the dwarves they had passed before, and the still cooling remains of the several genloks that had managed to sneak through the purge. Aeducan blew out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. The mission was done, and he'd be praised by the Assembly and his father—

"By the Stone, it's Trian!" Gorim's shout snapped his attention back to the bodies in the shaft of light from a crystal far above in the ceiling. His Second moved as quickly as Aeducan did to reach the fallen body. Aeducan pushed the body over, hoping that Gorim's excellent eye for detail was wrong.

Trian's face looked almost peaceful, like he was sleeping. If not for the blood caked over his armor, Aeducan would have expected his eyes to open.

Ivo inched up next to the two warriors. "It … it must have been a darkspawn attack." He stepped aside as the scout approached. Aeducan watched on as the scout inspected Trian's body.

"This doesn't look like darkspawn. No bites, no scratches, no mutilation …"

The cold, sinking truth splashed over Aeducan and struck down to the core of his being. "Bhelen outplayed me." There was no rancor, no bitterness in the revelation; only the quiet realization of what he had failed to catch. A failure that had killed one brother, and marked him as the next target.

Ivo glance dup quickly. "Your brother?"

"Someone's coming!" Gorim pointed to the far entrance. Sure enough, the clank of armor and steel reverberated through the chamber. Within moments, the four were surrounded by the King's guard, Bhelen, and Lord Harrowmont's escorts.

The King's eye fell upon Trian's corpse and he let out a low moan as he rushed to his son's side. Aeducan stepped back, his gut twisted and knotted as his father's gaze locked onto his own. "My son," his voice was hoarse, the voice of a broken man. "My son. Tell me this isn't what it looks like."

"We … we just got here a moment ago." Aeducan whispered, feeling young and helpless again as his father pinned him with a hollow, empty gaze.

"Just long enough to slay Trian!" Bhelen yelled, rushing forward to shove against Aeducan hard. Gorim was at his side in an instant, shield raised in defense.

"My lord is innocent!"

"Ser Gorim!" Lord Harrowmont shouted. When neither man seemed ready to back down, his pushed between them, giving Bhelen a stern look before facing the Second. "Ser Gorim, your loyalty makes you a useless witness. It falls to others to tell the story. You," he gestured for the scout to step forward. "What happened here?"

"Trian and his men were here early. It seems they'd down battle with the darkspawn. Lord Aeducan came up to them, all friendly-like, but when we got close, he ordered us to attack!"

"You dare let this man question my honor?" Aeducan found a sliver of outrage to cling to, and it strengthened him enough to glare down at Lord Harrowmont, daring him to answer.

One of the lesser lords, Meino, answered instead. "It …is a valid question. The man is low-born and could be easily bought." He gestured to Ivo. "Frandlin Ivo, you are a good and noble man. Did the scout speak the truth?"

Ivo did not meet Aeducan's gaze as he stepped forward. His head was downcast, his hands clenched tightly to his sides. "He … he did, my lord. It was … terrible." He looked up, finally, and Aeducan knew that his own fate was sealed. "Prince Trian didn't stand a chance."

"You treacherous bastard!"

"Silence, Gorim." The king said, his voice low and terrible. His gaze had never left Aeducan's face. "Do you have anything else to say, my son?"

Aeducan shook his head. "How can you not see that this is a setup?" His gaze finally flicked to Bhelen.

The King followed his glance and shook his head tiredly. "I want to believe that, I really do." He smoothed a hand down Trian's face.

Lord Harrowmont signaled for the guards. "Bind him. He will be judged before the Assembly. To Orzammar!"

*

Time seemed fluid as Aeducan waited in the pits of the Orzammar dungeons. At one moment, it felt like years had passed since they had tossed him in, at other moments; it seemed like mere seconds since the guard last patrolled through. The other cell had seemed empty, until a pile of rags shifted and a dark head of hair poked out to glare at him as the one of many guard patrols went by.

The glare, the brand over the forehead and cheek, the pattern of bruising along the chin and jaw, all of it was known to Aeducan.

"If you were desperate to slum with the casteless, noble, you'd have had better luck in Dust Town." He even knew the voice, the accusation and bitterness a unique blend that couldn't be misheard, even muffled under a helmet.

"You're that Casteless who undermined the Provings last week." Aeducan shifted in his cell to get a better look.

"Well, looks like you're a smart one, doesn't it?" The girl spat, her eyes filled with fire. "Yeah, I kicked the sorry ass of each and every one of those so-called Warriors you lot threw at me. Maybe even taught them some new tricks and the crowd loved me!" She sneered, looking down the hall to the barred door. "What do I get in return? A lifetime in this hellhole."

"You dishonored the ancestors with your actions—"

"Bullshit, I gave them a ruddy good time, that's what I did. All you nobles think about is the color of your blood while the rest of us suffer because maybe sometime in the past there was a dwarf who told your grandpappy where to shove his sword."

" –but you fought with great skill for one unprofessionally trained." Aeducan finished, pretending not to have heard her interruption. The compliment seemed to faze her and the cells went silent again. When Aeducan opened his mouth to ask a new question, the door at the end of the hall opened. Footsteps approached, and Gorim's face was a sight for sore eyes. The casteless girl was forgotten for the moment he and his second clasped arms.

"I … I would have come sooner had they allowed it. How are you?" Gorim looked worn down, defeated. The weight of something terrible was pressing deep into his shoulders, Aeducan could tell.

"Why has the Assembly not sent for me yet?" Aeducan asked, fearing that he knew the answer.

"The Assembly isn't going to call for you." Gorim said, taking a step back from the bars. His face contorted with anger. "Bhelen has taken Trian's place in the Assembly. He introduced a motion to condemn you immediately, and it easily passed. He… had fully half the Assembly ready to vote on something completely against tradition and justice!" Gorim shook his head, unbelievingly. "He must have been making deals and alliances for months, if not years.

Aeducan offered his Second a bitter smile. "You have to respect Bhelen's ability to play the game."

Gorim looked as if he wanted to snap something nasty, but nodded, the fight leaving him. "He's more clever that either of us ever thought." He pushed a hand through his short-cropped hair. "Some of the lords, especially Harrowmont, are suspicious of Bhelen's instant rise to power; they are rallying, but far too slowly. The Assembly has already sentenced both of us."

Aeducan swallowed hard, then tried to keep his voice conversationally-polite. "What's going to happen to you?"

"My knighthood will be stripped, my name torn from my family's records … but I will be allowed to attempt some sort of life on the surface. Lord Harrowmont moved for a similar exile for you, but Bhelen's supporters overwhelmed him. You're …" Gorim trailed off, choking on the words. "You're to be sealed in the Deep Roads to fight darkspawn until you are overwhelmed and killed."

Aeducan stepped back from the bars, shaken. It took him several moments to come up with the ability to speak again. "What does my father say about this?"

"Lord Harrowmont says that the king has taken ill. He couldn't bear losing two of his children at once. He also allowed me here to say this …" Gorim leaned in, and his voice dropped to a whisper. "Where they are exiling you … there is a way up to the surface. The darkspawn must crawl out somehow, and we know it isn't through Orzammar's gates. He believes that if you find it, you could also escape to the surface, make a new life for yourself." He leaned back.

"Only darkspawn between me and freedom?" Aeducan shrugged, "how hard could that be?"

Gorim chuckled, and for a second, it was just like before the betrayal. "Bhelen underestimated you. Much as we underestimated him. I begged to go with you and fight at your side, but Bhelen's pet nobles wouldn't hear of it."

"I wish you were going to be at my side as well."

Gorim nodded slowly, and once against clasped arms with Aeducan. "I'm going to try to go to Denerim, the human capital. If you make it out … find me."

"Goodbye, Gorim." Aeducan bowed his head. He watched as Gorim nodded to the guard to be led out and then as the door bang shut.

"So … in death high and low born are alike." The casteless girl's voice crept through the dungeon again, only this time it was without malice. "Seems like my ability to fight granted me the same honor as they're granting you, friend."

Aeducan flicked his attention her way for a moment. "I suppose so. Consider it an honor then."

"Heh. What do I know about honor?" She snorted.

Aeducan looked her way fully. She was against the bars of her own cage, watching him much like one of the wolves he had seen up on the surface long ago. Her gaze burned into his own; her spirit was an aura that clung about her. If she had not bore the brands of the Casteless, he would have figured her for a Warrior. Then again, what right did he have to judge her standing amongst the Dwarva now that he was to be exiled?

"What is your name, girl?"

"Piss off."

"That sounds like no House I have ever heard of, and my history lessons were long on the linage of houses."

She glared at him. He stared back, passively. Her eyes narrowed and she tugged her lower lip inbetween her teeth. He coughed.

"Brosca." She finally answered, looking away. "It's Brosca."

"I am Duran." He offered her an incline of the head. "You said you are also to be fated to the Deep Roads?"

"Yeah."

"Perhaps we can work something out then …" He gestured for her to lean in as close as the bars would allow her and then repeated what Gorim had said to him. After her eyes lit up at the slim chance of escape, the two spent the remaining time they had left planning their own salvation.