I'm going to start posting some stuff that I'm writing that eventually should make its way into Chasing Alistair but is out of sequence. I'm hoping to get some feedback on whether I'm writing the companion characters in a way that works or not...anyway, here's the first of them:
“So—Aedan, are you ever going to tell me about how Morrigan saved you from the Archdemon?”
I had been dreading this question for five years. I had always felt that Alistair’s love for me was based in no small measure hero worship and that if he learned I was not the hero he saw me as…I knew that it was time to explain, but I couldn’t resist stalling. “What makes you so suddenly curious after all these years?”
“Well, I know you told me that I didn’t want to know, but something about being called off to Weishaupt…and the Warden Commander of Orlais practically accusing you of being a traitor to the Wardens--I wanted to kill him, you know--but it’s made me…curious”
“I know….I should have told you a long time ago, should have told you before I agreed to Morrigan’s plan but…I was afraid. You know, when we first fell in love, Wynne counseled me that it was a bad idea for Wardens to love, that love was selfish and might get in the way of my duty as a Warden. I was angry with her, then…”
“Morrigan said much the same to me once.”
“Did she? That’s ironic.”
“Why ironic?’
“If I hadn’t been in love, she would never have gotten what she asked for. I didn’t have much to live for, other than you…losing my life to stop the Blight would not have seemed like no large thing. Or maybe you would have persuaded me to let you die. But I wanted to live because of you, and I couldn’t face the thought of living without you…and so…I may have done a terrible thing.”
“Are you saying you regret…what you did?”
I shook my head. “No…no…Maker forgive me but even if I’ve damned Thedas to destruction, it was worth it for these precious years with you.” I stroked his cheek. I murmured, “Wynne was right. You see, the child you’re seeing in the dreams since we’ve come to Orlais…it’s Morrigan’s child. My daughter.”
He laughed. “Oh, that’s a good one. Serves me right, deflecting questions with jokes all these years. You are joking, right…” A pause. “You’re not joking.” I shook my head. “A child? With Morrigan. How…?”
“I thought you told Wynne you understood where babies came from. It wasn’t that difficult, I put my.,.”
He colored. “That’s not what I meant! I never knew that you and Morrigan…was this before you and I…?”
“No. It was the last night in Redcliffe, before the army marched, that Morrigan came to me. I guess technically, I was unfaithful—the one and only time—but I was thinking of you the whole time. I did it for us, though I should have told you…”
“But why did Morrigan want your child? She never struck me as the motherly type. And what does this have to do with the Archdemon?”
I sighed. “Everything. Everything. Morrigan performed a magical ritual so that when the Archdemon died and it found a new host, instead of finding me or a Darkspawn, the Old God would find her unborn child instead. Somehow, the ritual was supposed to pass on the part of the old god’s soul that we carry with us, without passing on the taint. To free it of the taint, as it were.”
He pulled away, suddenly shocked. “You made a child to be possessed by the Archdemon? Wouldn’t it die, like us?”
I shook my head vigorously. “Not the archdemon, the old god, without the taint. Morrigan says that if the child is young enough, its soul could merge with the old god. Anyway, it didn’t die. You’ve seen it in your dreams, and it doesn’t feel like the Archdemon, does it?”
“No, you’re right…it feels…different. It’s not the same as during the Blight. But why would Morrigan want such a thing? What will it be?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. She wouldn’t tell me, or doesn’t fully know herself. If the Chantry is to be believed, letting loose an old god into the world is a dreadful thing. Morrigan sees it differently.”
“Do you trust her?”
“I—well, she would not want another Blight. And I do think that she was traveling with us, that she learned to care about other people, at least a little. But I—I really don’t know. I probably should have just…died like the other Grey Wardens. Can you forgive me?” I looked into his eyes, pleading for his understanding. “I just couldn’t give you up.”
He was silent for a time. “Aedan, I have to trust your heart. If I can’t trust that, I have nothing. But if this…old god child becomes a danger, we’ll have to deal with it. I wouldn’t normally recommend killing a child, but…”
His words startled me out of my thoughts. “You’ve said those words before, you know. And we found another way, then…but anyway, it—she—doesn’t seem to be doing any harm, at least not that we know of, not yet.” I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, “If it comes to pass that she is an evil that must be stopped, then it is mine to do. I let her into the world and, if necessary, I will see her out…and die a true Grey Warden’s death.”
“Aedan, “ he said softly, gathering me into his arms. “You are a true Grey Warden, if anyone is. Never doubt it, my love. And I would gladly die in your stead…but you know that. But when we go to Weishaupt, when we tell them this…you think they will want to kill her?”
I nodded slowly. “I think so, yes. Even though there’s no blight, I think they will see her as a threat. They ordered you to come to Weishaupt rather than simply send messengers to ask questions of us in Amaranthine, which means—I think—that they are prepared to take action. This is not a friendly inquiry, if we go to Weishaupt we will be facing an interrogation.” “What I don’t understand is why it’s only here in Orlais that the Wardens are dreaming of this child. I had some strange dreams in Ferelden but nothing like this. Why here? What do the dreams mean? Alistair, I think we should not go on to Weishaupt, not until we understand what’s happening here. I want to know more about what this little girl might be. I would try to find Morrigan, but I have no idea how to even begin looking.”
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maxernst
, juil. 18 2010 11:32
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#3
Posté 19 juillet 2010 - 12:38
maxernst
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“Aedan—I’ve been thinking about writing a song about the Blight,” remarked Leliana.
“Oh?” I regarded her over my glass of wine. “I thought you told Morrigan at Redcliffe you didn’t want to write songs about suffering and death…”
“Well…maybe Morrigan was right It was a great victory in the end, and there are lessons to be learned from how it was achieved.”
“So go to it. You certainly have more material to work with than any of the other bards in Orlais. You were there for the whole thing.”
“I wasn’t there for everything” she said with a sidelong glance at Alistair. “Some things I can only guess at from the sounds emerging from your tent.” Alistair turned the color of the rose he had given me at the campfire, all those nights ago.
I laughed. “Well, songs about my nightly exploits with Alistair will certainly be a novel approach to the material. I look forward to hearing them.”
“But really—what struck me as I began to write is that I feel I do not know the hero of my tale as well as I should. We all shared our stories with you, but I never really learned much about your past. I understand why it was hard for you to talk about at the time, but now.”
“There’s no great mystery about my past. I was the second son of one of the most powerful men in Ferelden and lived at the castle in Highever for my first twenty years and then…well, you know what happened.” I shrugged. “Besides, as much as I hated the man, Loghain was not wrong when he said that he had forged me. The man you know was made by Howe, and Loghain, and the Blight…and Alistair.” I said my voice, softening at the end. “Bryce Cousland’s son…is gone.
She shook her head vigorously. “The past is never gone, it stays with us always. The great heroes of history are still with us, even if we have forgotten them. They made our world and their echoes are everywhere. How was Bryce Couslands strong enough to be forged instead of broken. Most people would have broken. I would have broken.”
“You misjudge yourself, Leli,” I murmured.
She wagged her finger at me. “Oh, no. You are not going to change the subject to me. Really, Aedan, I want to know…how you came to be who you are.”
I raised my hands in surrender and sighed. “Very well. But I don’t know how to begin to answer such a question. Perhaps could ask something specific?”
“You could begin by telling me how you learned to fight. I was surprised by your…style when I first fought at your side in Lothering.” Her brow furrowed. “Perhaps Ferelden is different but in Orlais, noblemen don’t…”
“Fight like thieves from the back alleys of Denerim?” I suggested.
“Or Antiva…” put in Alistair.
“I was trying to put it more tactfully, but, yes.”
“Oh?” I regarded her over my glass of wine. “I thought you told Morrigan at Redcliffe you didn’t want to write songs about suffering and death…”
“Well…maybe Morrigan was right It was a great victory in the end, and there are lessons to be learned from how it was achieved.”
“So go to it. You certainly have more material to work with than any of the other bards in Orlais. You were there for the whole thing.”
“I wasn’t there for everything” she said with a sidelong glance at Alistair. “Some things I can only guess at from the sounds emerging from your tent.” Alistair turned the color of the rose he had given me at the campfire, all those nights ago.
I laughed. “Well, songs about my nightly exploits with Alistair will certainly be a novel approach to the material. I look forward to hearing them.”
“But really—what struck me as I began to write is that I feel I do not know the hero of my tale as well as I should. We all shared our stories with you, but I never really learned much about your past. I understand why it was hard for you to talk about at the time, but now.”
“There’s no great mystery about my past. I was the second son of one of the most powerful men in Ferelden and lived at the castle in Highever for my first twenty years and then…well, you know what happened.” I shrugged. “Besides, as much as I hated the man, Loghain was not wrong when he said that he had forged me. The man you know was made by Howe, and Loghain, and the Blight…and Alistair.” I said my voice, softening at the end. “Bryce Cousland’s son…is gone.
She shook her head vigorously. “The past is never gone, it stays with us always. The great heroes of history are still with us, even if we have forgotten them. They made our world and their echoes are everywhere. How was Bryce Couslands strong enough to be forged instead of broken. Most people would have broken. I would have broken.”
“You misjudge yourself, Leli,” I murmured.
She wagged her finger at me. “Oh, no. You are not going to change the subject to me. Really, Aedan, I want to know…how you came to be who you are.”
I raised my hands in surrender and sighed. “Very well. But I don’t know how to begin to answer such a question. Perhaps could ask something specific?”
“You could begin by telling me how you learned to fight. I was surprised by your…style when I first fought at your side in Lothering.” Her brow furrowed. “Perhaps Ferelden is different but in Orlais, noblemen don’t…”
“Fight like thieves from the back alleys of Denerim?” I suggested.
“Or Antiva…” put in Alistair.
“I was trying to put it more tactfully, but, yes.”
#4
Posté 19 juillet 2010 - 02:33
DreGregoire
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Hey! Aedan had to do something to combat the older Fergus, right?! LOL
#5
Posté 19 juillet 2010 - 03:05
maxernst
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DreGregoire wrote...
Hey! Aedan had to do something to combat the older Fergus, right?! LOL
Well, in fact, you're right, Fergus bullying will be a part of that story.
#6
Posté 29 juillet 2010 - 06:28
maxernst
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“Now entering the throne room for his audience with Her Most Imperial Majesty, the Empress Celene: Warden Commander Aedan Cousland of Ferelden."
I walked into the vast chamber and took a deep breath. As accustomed to dealing with royalty as I am—and I had met three monarchs before and helped to place two of them on their thrones—I was still awed by my first sight of the Empress. She sat on a golden throne inlaid with jewels, raised on a dais high above the rest of her court. Her pale hair was coiled high above her head and so embedded with strings of pearls that no crown was needed. The room was filled with her courtiers, and as I slowly walked forward as directed by the herald, I noticed that not one of them was looking at me: they all watched her grey eyes to see how she was reacting to me. The Empress was the central figure of the Game; I a mere pawn to be played. I wondered how someone younger than me could have such eerie self-posession. It had to be a façade, at least in part, but knowing that did not detract from its effectiveness.
I knelt before her. “Thank you for granting me this audience, Your Majesty.”
“You may rise, Commander. We understand that you wish me to convey a message to the Lady Morrigan. We are not accustomed to being employed to run errands. We are not certain if we should be offended or amused by such impertinence.”
The court giggled. I smiled nervously myself—it was a peculiar request—then schooled my features. “Believe me, I intended no offense Your Majesty. Unfortunately, I have great need to contact her, and I have no other means to do so. I would never have dared to trouble Your Majesty for trivial reasons.”
“Were it not for your illustrious reputation, We would not have deigned to even entertain this audience, Commander. For it seems to us that the Lady Morrigan could have communicated with you at any time should she wish to do so? Your whereabouts at the Warden post in Amaranthine are hardly secret.”
“That is so, Your Majesty. The Lady Morrigan has not chosen to stay in contact with me, although I assure Your Majesty that we parted as friends. And it is as a friend that I have information that I am certain that she needs to and would want to know.”
“And what information would this be, Commander.”
I blinked. “It is of a highly confidential and personal nature and I can hardly speak of it before the court, Your Majesty.”
“Ah, so you wish to further inconvenience us with a private audience, to impart this information. We must inform you that we rarely give private audiences, and never lightly.”
My mouth went dry. “I intend only to pass this knowledge to Morrigan, herself, Your Majesty.”
Her eyes widened and she spoke with cold, though possibly feigned, fury. “There are no secrets kept from me within my Empire, Commander.”
I took a deep breath. “At the risk of making Your Majesty more irate, I must point out that this is not so. The Chantry and its Templars have secrets that are kept from all outside, as do the Circle of Mages…and the Grey Wardens.”
“Then you intend to betray the Warden’s secrets not to me, but to the Lady Morrigan?”
Had she been talking to Yves? I wondered. Before thinking, I snapped “After what I have done for the past six years, I am not accustomed to defending my integrity as a Warden.” The court gasped—people did not take that tone with the Empress. I winced, thinking that I would likely pay for this misstep.
“Indeed?” she asked. Yves had spoken to her. I was sure of it. “It might be amusing to challenge your honor, have our champion fight you or your Alistair for the court’s entertainment, and see some of your legendary skills on display.”
She studied me for a moment and I struggled to maintain my composure under that searching stare. Her tone suddenly softer, she said, “However, We are certain that a man of your reputed quality can provide greater entertainment in other ways. A few minutes ago, you smiled briefly. We would like to see you smile again, Commander. Smile for us.”
Totally caught off guard, it took a moment for me to muster an awkward smile.
“Yes,” she responded with a knowing smile of her own. “We have made our decision. We will assist you in conveying a message to the Lady Morrigan, though we cannot promise that she will see you.”
My mouth dropped open in surprise. “Thank you, Your Majesty,” I stammered.
“You will, of course, be required to assist us in some fashion, in return for this service. Do not worry, it will not interfere with your main calling.” The peculiar emphasis she placed on the word calling made me wonder just how much she knew about the Wardens. “You may go, Commander. Instructions as to how to deliver the message and what you will do for us in return will be sent to you at the Comtesse de Montfleury’s estate.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.” I knelt down in front of her once more, and walked out of the throne room. As I left, the only possible explanation for her behavior occurred to me. The smile had tipped her off. She had just realized that I was the father of Morrigan's child.
I walked into the vast chamber and took a deep breath. As accustomed to dealing with royalty as I am—and I had met three monarchs before and helped to place two of them on their thrones—I was still awed by my first sight of the Empress. She sat on a golden throne inlaid with jewels, raised on a dais high above the rest of her court. Her pale hair was coiled high above her head and so embedded with strings of pearls that no crown was needed. The room was filled with her courtiers, and as I slowly walked forward as directed by the herald, I noticed that not one of them was looking at me: they all watched her grey eyes to see how she was reacting to me. The Empress was the central figure of the Game; I a mere pawn to be played. I wondered how someone younger than me could have such eerie self-posession. It had to be a façade, at least in part, but knowing that did not detract from its effectiveness.
I knelt before her. “Thank you for granting me this audience, Your Majesty.”
“You may rise, Commander. We understand that you wish me to convey a message to the Lady Morrigan. We are not accustomed to being employed to run errands. We are not certain if we should be offended or amused by such impertinence.”
The court giggled. I smiled nervously myself—it was a peculiar request—then schooled my features. “Believe me, I intended no offense Your Majesty. Unfortunately, I have great need to contact her, and I have no other means to do so. I would never have dared to trouble Your Majesty for trivial reasons.”
“Were it not for your illustrious reputation, We would not have deigned to even entertain this audience, Commander. For it seems to us that the Lady Morrigan could have communicated with you at any time should she wish to do so? Your whereabouts at the Warden post in Amaranthine are hardly secret.”
“That is so, Your Majesty. The Lady Morrigan has not chosen to stay in contact with me, although I assure Your Majesty that we parted as friends. And it is as a friend that I have information that I am certain that she needs to and would want to know.”
“And what information would this be, Commander.”
I blinked. “It is of a highly confidential and personal nature and I can hardly speak of it before the court, Your Majesty.”
“Ah, so you wish to further inconvenience us with a private audience, to impart this information. We must inform you that we rarely give private audiences, and never lightly.”
My mouth went dry. “I intend only to pass this knowledge to Morrigan, herself, Your Majesty.”
Her eyes widened and she spoke with cold, though possibly feigned, fury. “There are no secrets kept from me within my Empire, Commander.”
I took a deep breath. “At the risk of making Your Majesty more irate, I must point out that this is not so. The Chantry and its Templars have secrets that are kept from all outside, as do the Circle of Mages…and the Grey Wardens.”
“Then you intend to betray the Warden’s secrets not to me, but to the Lady Morrigan?”
Had she been talking to Yves? I wondered. Before thinking, I snapped “After what I have done for the past six years, I am not accustomed to defending my integrity as a Warden.” The court gasped—people did not take that tone with the Empress. I winced, thinking that I would likely pay for this misstep.
“Indeed?” she asked. Yves had spoken to her. I was sure of it. “It might be amusing to challenge your honor, have our champion fight you or your Alistair for the court’s entertainment, and see some of your legendary skills on display.”
She studied me for a moment and I struggled to maintain my composure under that searching stare. Her tone suddenly softer, she said, “However, We are certain that a man of your reputed quality can provide greater entertainment in other ways. A few minutes ago, you smiled briefly. We would like to see you smile again, Commander. Smile for us.”
Totally caught off guard, it took a moment for me to muster an awkward smile.
“Yes,” she responded with a knowing smile of her own. “We have made our decision. We will assist you in conveying a message to the Lady Morrigan, though we cannot promise that she will see you.”
My mouth dropped open in surprise. “Thank you, Your Majesty,” I stammered.
“You will, of course, be required to assist us in some fashion, in return for this service. Do not worry, it will not interfere with your main calling.” The peculiar emphasis she placed on the word calling made me wonder just how much she knew about the Wardens. “You may go, Commander. Instructions as to how to deliver the message and what you will do for us in return will be sent to you at the Comtesse de Montfleury’s estate.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.” I knelt down in front of her once more, and walked out of the throne room. As I left, the only possible explanation for her behavior occurred to me. The smile had tipped her off. She had just realized that I was the father of Morrigan's child.
Modifié par maxernst, 29 juillet 2010 - 06:32 .
#7
Posté 31 juillet 2010 - 05:13
maxernst
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I was in my office tidying up after a meeting with Anora’s delegation when Meghan came to talk to me. “Aedan, we need to talk about Alistair,” she said.
I closed my eyes and asked, “What happened?” Meghan had become my deputy last year when Alistair’s decline had become impossible to hide. The periods of confusion were not so bad but the uncontrollable rages were becoming more frequent. I could usually soothe him and calm him down, but I had been forced to work with Anora’s embassy today and could not be with him.
“He…attacked one of the new recruits. It took four of us to restrain him. He is still very strong. Some of my fellow wardens said that we should kill him, that I would be a mercy…” I winced. “But I told them that he had earned the right to make an ending of his choice. He was a great man.”
“He still is…when he is himself,” I said softly. "How is the recruit?"
"He is...alive. He will recover." She said. "“I know how hard this is for you, Commander.” No, you don’t, you cold-hearted witch, I wanted to scream at her, though I knew she did not deserve it. “But this has to end. Aside from the safety of others, he is suffering terribly.” And his suffering was an unpleasant reminder of the ultimate fate of a Warden. I had never seen a Warden so far gone.
“Do you think I don’t know this?” I hissed at her. “I am there beside him for the nightmares—two or three times a night now—the headaches, the times when he forgets who I am. Do you think me blind and deaf?” I did not tell her about the bruises I bore from when he turned suddenly violent during lovemaking or the tears of remorse afterward. Even the taste of his seed had changed.
Three years of suppressed pain welled up in me…even Alistair had not seen me cry during that time. “And the worst of it is, it’s my fault, “ I wailed. "He would have left months ago, if it weren’t for me. He's not clinging to life, he's clinging to me.”
Meghan watched me, unsure of what to do. I supposed that she was totally unprepared to see the Hero of Ferelden, a man she had looked up to her for most of her life, blubbering like a child in front of her. “It’s nobody’s fault, Aedan,” she said gently.
“Where is he? I must see him.”
“In your bedchamber. We…locked him in there. I am truly sorry, Commander.”
He was waiting for me. Despite the pallid skin and the dark shadows in his eyesockets and around his throat, I looked into this eyes and saw the sweet and gentle Alistair I had fallen in love with twenty-two years before, not the stranger with his blank or murderous stares, who smelled like Rukh. “Meghan talked to you,” he said, looking at my tear-stained face.
“Yes.”
I could see he wanted to make a joke, knew I couldn’t bear it. Instead, he said, “It’s time. I’m so sorry, my love. I can’t hold back the darkness any longer.”
I hugged him and buried my face in his shoulder. “I know. There’s nothing for you to be sorry for. You’ve done the best you can. You always have.” I started to cry again.
He didn’t say anything for a while, just held me and let me weep. “Aedan—I know that we made a promise to each other, a long time ago. I don’t want to hold you to that promise. Please—you have good years left still. The Wardens still need you.”
“A year, maybe two at the most, I said.” I was lying, and he knew me too well not to know it. If Alistair’s rate of deterioration was typical, I was still five years or more from the end of the line. “I don’t care about the Wardens. I never really did. Everything I did, I did for you. I’ve given them twenty-two years of my life. It’s enough.”
“Even if you don't want to be a Warden anymore, you could live with Fergus and his family. I don’t want you to throw your life away…”
I shook my head. “Alistair—tell me…do you truly not wish me to be with you on this last journey?” My voice was constricted with pain and sorrow. "If you really don't want me, then, I won't come, but I cant bear to think of you dying alone in the darkness."
He lowered his eyes. “Oh, Aedan, leaving you would be the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life...you're love and strength has kept me alive this long. I always want you with me, but…”
“Then nothing else matters. Please...let me be with you to the end.”
We made love that night as many times as we could and as many ways as we knew how…gently, passionately, desperately, even violently. The Maker granted my prayers and the…stranger stayed away.
As we were leaving for Orzammar the following morning, Meghan met us at the gates and saluted us both. “Commander, I must ask you to reconsider. I am not ready to fill your shoes. We need you still.”
“Meghan, do you think I was ready to fill Duncan’s shoes when I was twenty years old and the Blight was upon us? You will. You must. Goodbye, Commander.” I patted her on the back and walked out of the gates of Amaranthine, arm in arm with the man I loved, without a backward glance.
I closed my eyes and asked, “What happened?” Meghan had become my deputy last year when Alistair’s decline had become impossible to hide. The periods of confusion were not so bad but the uncontrollable rages were becoming more frequent. I could usually soothe him and calm him down, but I had been forced to work with Anora’s embassy today and could not be with him.
“He…attacked one of the new recruits. It took four of us to restrain him. He is still very strong. Some of my fellow wardens said that we should kill him, that I would be a mercy…” I winced. “But I told them that he had earned the right to make an ending of his choice. He was a great man.”
“He still is…when he is himself,” I said softly. "How is the recruit?"
"He is...alive. He will recover." She said. "“I know how hard this is for you, Commander.” No, you don’t, you cold-hearted witch, I wanted to scream at her, though I knew she did not deserve it. “But this has to end. Aside from the safety of others, he is suffering terribly.” And his suffering was an unpleasant reminder of the ultimate fate of a Warden. I had never seen a Warden so far gone.
“Do you think I don’t know this?” I hissed at her. “I am there beside him for the nightmares—two or three times a night now—the headaches, the times when he forgets who I am. Do you think me blind and deaf?” I did not tell her about the bruises I bore from when he turned suddenly violent during lovemaking or the tears of remorse afterward. Even the taste of his seed had changed.
Three years of suppressed pain welled up in me…even Alistair had not seen me cry during that time. “And the worst of it is, it’s my fault, “ I wailed. "He would have left months ago, if it weren’t for me. He's not clinging to life, he's clinging to me.”
Meghan watched me, unsure of what to do. I supposed that she was totally unprepared to see the Hero of Ferelden, a man she had looked up to her for most of her life, blubbering like a child in front of her. “It’s nobody’s fault, Aedan,” she said gently.
“Where is he? I must see him.”
“In your bedchamber. We…locked him in there. I am truly sorry, Commander.”
He was waiting for me. Despite the pallid skin and the dark shadows in his eyesockets and around his throat, I looked into this eyes and saw the sweet and gentle Alistair I had fallen in love with twenty-two years before, not the stranger with his blank or murderous stares, who smelled like Rukh. “Meghan talked to you,” he said, looking at my tear-stained face.
“Yes.”
I could see he wanted to make a joke, knew I couldn’t bear it. Instead, he said, “It’s time. I’m so sorry, my love. I can’t hold back the darkness any longer.”
I hugged him and buried my face in his shoulder. “I know. There’s nothing for you to be sorry for. You’ve done the best you can. You always have.” I started to cry again.
He didn’t say anything for a while, just held me and let me weep. “Aedan—I know that we made a promise to each other, a long time ago. I don’t want to hold you to that promise. Please—you have good years left still. The Wardens still need you.”
“A year, maybe two at the most, I said.” I was lying, and he knew me too well not to know it. If Alistair’s rate of deterioration was typical, I was still five years or more from the end of the line. “I don’t care about the Wardens. I never really did. Everything I did, I did for you. I’ve given them twenty-two years of my life. It’s enough.”
“Even if you don't want to be a Warden anymore, you could live with Fergus and his family. I don’t want you to throw your life away…”
I shook my head. “Alistair—tell me…do you truly not wish me to be with you on this last journey?” My voice was constricted with pain and sorrow. "If you really don't want me, then, I won't come, but I cant bear to think of you dying alone in the darkness."
He lowered his eyes. “Oh, Aedan, leaving you would be the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life...you're love and strength has kept me alive this long. I always want you with me, but…”
“Then nothing else matters. Please...let me be with you to the end.”
We made love that night as many times as we could and as many ways as we knew how…gently, passionately, desperately, even violently. The Maker granted my prayers and the…stranger stayed away.
As we were leaving for Orzammar the following morning, Meghan met us at the gates and saluted us both. “Commander, I must ask you to reconsider. I am not ready to fill your shoes. We need you still.”
“Meghan, do you think I was ready to fill Duncan’s shoes when I was twenty years old and the Blight was upon us? You will. You must. Goodbye, Commander.” I patted her on the back and walked out of the gates of Amaranthine, arm in arm with the man I loved, without a backward glance.
Modifié par maxernst, 01 août 2010 - 01:59 .
#8
Posté 04 août 2010 - 03:35
maxernst
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“So how did your audience with the Empress go?” asked Leliana over dinner.
I thought about that for a moment. “Well, it could have gone much worse. She agreed to help me get a message to Morrigan. I think she learned more from me than I wanted her to, however.
“Oh, she does that to everyone,” observed Sybille. “I thought it went brilliantly for you.” She studied me in the candlelight. “Is it that scar on your chin, I wonder? I’ve never seen anybody get so much out of a smile from the Empress before, particularly after making her angry. I suppose she must plan to take you as a lover.”
“What?” exclaimed Alistair.
“I do hope not. Given that I have limited experience and less success with women, I suspect I would be a disappointment to her…and I can’t think that disappointing the Empress would be advantageous.”
“Some women might feel that inexperience lends a man a certain appeal, you know,” commented Leliana.
“Then I suppose I should be thankful I did not bring Alistair along on this occasion.” I put a hand on Alistair’s muscular thigh. “My dear, if it will ease your mind I suspect her majesty’s interest in my smile was not carnal. As I said, I believe she learned something that I did not intend her to—but it may be why she was willing to help.” I’ll explain later, I mouthed to Alistair.
