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[Maria13]

Heee-hee, like it... Like the details of romancing Alistair. The plot thickening re the misunderstandings or can I now call it 'manipulation' of Alistair by Aedan... And to clinch it all the point raised by Leli... Should I start thinking of Aedan as a scoundrel or perhaps even a Svengli?

[maxernst]

Glad you enjoyed. As to Aedan, well, he is a rogue, after all. One thing that emerged as I was writing Morrigan's daughter was how controlling he is. It wasn't really part of how I viewed his character to start with, and maybe it's a consequence of how you literally control your companions in the game. I don't think Aedan's really even conscious of how dominant he is in the relationship.

If you think he's a scoundrel now, you'll definitely think he's one after the next chapter, I'm afraid.

[maxernst]

29. LE PALAIS ROYEAUX: MAKING CHOICES
 
It was barely past the first light of dawn when I gave Alistair a goodbye kiss before leaving for my audience with the Empress. “Can you please get our things packed for a short journey, my love? I want to get moving as soon as possible.”
 
“What if you can’t persuade her to tell you where Morrigan is?”
 
“I will persuade her. I must. Yves is getting too close.”
 
“Alright,” he replied. “I’ll be ready to go when you get back.”
 
I made my way over to the Palace and was assigned an escort at the gate. Celene awaited in the Jardin des Cascades, a formal garden behind the palace. She sat at the center of the garden, flanked by imposing body guards, between the two roaring, artfully constructed waterfalls that gave the garden its name. Her ornamental chair lay in the shade of the cliff that formed the eastern fall. Though it was still early morning, it was already quite warm in the sun. I looked forward to returning to the cool sea breezes of Amaranthine when this was all done.
 
“Commander,” she said, as I arrived and knelt. 
 
“Thank you for granting me this audience, Your Majesty.”
 
“Let us skip the formalities. I have little time and you may speak openly here. These two are sworn to silence and the falls will drown out the sound of our voices to any others. Why should I tell you where Morrigan is? She has indicated that she does not want to see you and we have promised to keep her location secret.”
 
“I have information she needs, whether she realizes it or not, Your Majesty.”
 
She looked bored. “Yes, you said that before, but did not deign to tell us what it was. Have you changed your mind? Are you willing to tell us what Morrigan must know, and let us judge whether you need see her.”
 
I shook my head. “I cannot without betraying certain secrets.”
 
“Yet you ask us to break our word, to Morrigan.” Her grey eyes searched my face. “We would settle for being told exactly what makes Morrigan’s little girl so special.” She raised her hand before I could speak. “We know you’re her father, but do not expect us to believe that this is all about some sudden fatherly feelings. Nor will we be convinced that it is merely because the girl has talent as a mage—hiding a mage from the Templars does not require anything like the efforts to which Morrigan has gone.”
 
“No, I cannot. Is there no service that I could do for you, as I did before? I must ask that I have leave to perform it after returning from Morrigan, but surely I have skills that—“
 
She cut me off, with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Great as your skills are, we do not see them as so unique that we have tasks we can trust to no other. No. You ask a piece of information that you can get from no other source; we must have payment in kind. Tell us about this information you have for Morrigan, tell us about her daughter, or—“ She raised her head, her eyes narrowing as she looked up at the cypress trees that lined the western waterfall. “Tell us where you go when you leave the common room at Le Cheval Blanc”
 
“What?” I had not been anticipated that question. I supposed I should not have been surprised that the Empress had spies who had noticed the times I left the table to talk to Enrique, but still. “I promised—“
 
She tapped her toe against the paving stones. “Yes, yes, and we promised Morrigan to keep her whereabouts secret. Confidence for confidence.”
 
I hesitated, unsure of why the Empress would require this information. But my mind was filled with the image in my dream, of the little girl surrounded by Darkspawn. Save me! She had cried. Several reported a very strong protection to protect her, Enrique had said. Was I being influenced, somehow? I brushed the thought away. No, I merely wanted to prevent Yves from discovering her, prevent a potential bloodbath. Time was short and there seemed to be no other way. Leli would be angry with me for revealing her secret room, but I could surely do something to aid Sybille’s faction in the game to make amends.
 
I took a deep breath and nodded. “Very well. I go through a door hidden behind a large cask in the inn’s wine cellar.” 
 
“Into the ancient city, I suppose. Which direction?”
 
“East, down a passage to a room.”
 
“There is an entrance to the main sewer near there,” she said, not waiting for confirmation from me. “Thank you, Commander. That will do. Give him the scroll, Franquet.”
 
The huge bodyguard to her right produced a piece of vellum with a map. “You will need to follow the road almost a day’s ride north of town to the village of Bellerive,” indicating its location with a long blue fingernail. You can hire a boat, there. Morrigan’s home lies in the royal forest, but it is more swamp than forest in that area.” A swamp witch to the end, I thought. “There is an island in the swamp here, with a large conical hill on it—the locals call it a cornet de marecage—but this one is not as large as it seems. It’s southern flank is a magical illusion—do not expect us to explain how it works but you can walk right through it to a meadow where Morrigan has a home. Our business is concluded here. Goodbye, Commander.”
 
I knelt before her once more and was escorted to the palace gates.
 
Alistair was waiting for me, ready to go, as he promised. “Were you successful?” I nodded.
 
I smiled. “You know when I set my mind to something, I usually get what I want.. Where’s Leliana?” I wanted to tell her that the meeting place was no longer safe. I hoped she would not be too annoyed with me…
 
“She and Sybille have already left for the country. Leli said they would be back in two days. Was it something important? I’m sure we could send a messenger to the estate.”
 
I knew I should let her know, but was not sure which members of the household could be trusted with a sensitive message. After a moment's thought, I decided that it could wait.  “No, nothing important. Let’s get going.”

Modifié par maxernst, 25 mars 2011 - 07:08 .

[maxernst]

29. BELLERIVE: A MUGGY NIGHT
 
We arrived in the village of Bellerive, at the edge of the Royal Forest at dusk. Not wishing to traverse the swamps in the dark, we found a rather seedy inn to stay the night. I supposed it was a sign that I had grown soft in the years since the blight, but the accommodations were not up to my usual standard. However, I judged it a better choice than camping outdoors that night, for I could hear thunder rumbling in the distance.
 
After being served a meal of boiled turnips and coarse bread—fortunately we had brought some dried meats and cheese from Sybille’s--we bedded down in a room with woodwork so rotten and mouldy, I hoped that the roof would not collapse on us in the night. Alistair suddenly sat up. “What if it’s Flemeth we find tomorrow, instead of Morrigan?”
 
I had never told Morrigan that we had not killed Flemeth. At the time, I feared to test our skills against such an ancient power, for if Flemeth had slain us, Ferelden was doomed. And I had been reluctant to murder someone who had done us no harm and given us great help, particularly as even Morrigan indicated that she would not stay dead. I was not eager to make an enemy of something immortal, but afterward, I worried that I had done the wrong thing. Strangely, she had simply taken her mother’s grimoire without asking.whether Flemeth was dead. It made me think that either the grimoire held no secrets that would aid her, or that she had misread Flemeth’s intentions completely. I hoped the latter true, but feared the former more likely.
 
“I don’t think it’s Flemeth. In her letter, she wrote ‘there is only one source of danger that concerns me, and since you wrote of an unexpected source, I must conclude that you have no news of her’. I think Flemeth has not yet found Morrigan, and that is why she is so well-hidden and secretive. But…if it is Flemeth, then I suppose we must deal with Flemeth.”
 
He nodded and pulled me closer to him. “Aedan, I’ve been thinking. I know that you don’t believe the child must be slain, but if…if she turns out to be something terrible, let me do it. There’s no need—“
 
“No, my love. I can’t let you. It was my choice.”
 
“But it should have been me. I am older, I’ve been a warden longer.” By six months. “Besides, you’re a better leader than me. The Wardens need you more”
 
Let the Wardens go to the Black City, I thought to myself, but that was not a line of argument that would sway him. I was not surprised by this offer, however, and I had thought it through carefully. “Alistair, if it comes to that, I will need you to handle Morrigan. I cannot resist and disrupt her magic as you can.”
 
He looked downcast, realizing the truth of what I said, but tried again. “But the child is probably a mage, too.”
 
“In the dreams, she has not cast spells to defend herself. I am sure she has power, but she likely lacks the experience and skill to guide it, so I think Morrigan remains the greater danger. And we don’t know that the old god’s soul can move again…Morrigan said it would merge with the child, not simply replace it, like it would a Darkspawn. Anyway, I still have faith that we won’t have to fight. I simply hope to get some answers, and persuade Morrigan to go somewhere far away, where she won’t disturb the wardens.” I could see from Alistair’s frown that he was not convinced, but he said no more. I hoped that this was the end of it. I am faster than him, faster than anyone I have ever fought. I will move before him, just as I did on the roof of Fort Drakon. Unless Morrigan turns me into a block of ice or stone, traps me in a cage of pain or puts me to sleep…
 
We made love with an almost violent passion that night. I curled up beside him, enveloped by the warmth of his body. Although it made a muggy night seem even more sultry, I could not deny myself the soothing comfort of having him close at hand. I tried not to think about the fact that it could be the last time we lay together. 

[maxernst]

31. THE ROYAL FOREST: THE SWAMP WITCH
 
The following morning, we hired a small flat bottomed boatthat we were assured could navigate the shallows and take us where we needed to go. Despite the rain of the previous night, it was another hot day, made stifling by the lack of breeze and the damp air. We paddled all morning through narrow waterways that meandered between islands of reeds and lilies, drowned stands of cypress and willow trees, and the occasional cornet. Though those cone-shaped hills were not very tall, their appearance seemed out of place in such an otherwise flat, low-lying landscape. The air was grey with clouds of mosquitoes, but they did not bother us. They wanted no part of our tainted blood.
 
I was tired, my upper back and shoulders aching, by the time we reached the island that the map marked as Morrigan’s home. I was not used to the paddling motion we used to guide our batteau through the swamp. It must have been worse for Alistair—how he coped with this heat wearing full mail, I could not imagine—but he made no complaint.
 
The island looked no different from the others we had seen, but as we approached, I began to feel a pulsing warmth in my head. It was not the black cacophony of voices that had filled my consciousness on the roof of Fort Drakon, but the presence of something was unmistakeable. I glanced behind me at Alistair and met his eyes. I could tell he could feel her, too.
 
When the water became shallow enough, we stepped out of the boat and waded through the water and soft mud, dragging the  batteau into shore. There was only a narrow rim of flat ground by the edge of the water; the remainder of the island was a steep hill. There was no sign of anyone around.
 
I walked forward onto the hillside and chuckled as my foot passed through it to flat ground underneath. It was only then that I heard the soft, splashing sound of someone dragging a paddle through water in the distance. “Do you hear that?” I whispered.
 
He shook his head.
 
“Someone may have followed us. Go through the illusion and wait for me on the other side. I will use that tree to hide, watch and wait. I’ll call out if I need help.”
 
He nodded and walked through the slope, disappearing from view.
 
After he had departed, a man in a grey cloak appeared, piloting a boat similar to our own, though smaller. Seeing our boat grounded on the island, he pulled up to shore and left his own behind. As he came closer, I recognized the thin lips and sallow skin of a man I had seen staring at us in the common room of the inn the night before. Before he could approach the hillside, I stepped behind him and drove my left dagger between his shoulder blades while my right reached around him, slicing into his throat. He collapsed, blood gushing from his wounds. He did not even have time to scream. He merely gurgled a bit, and then was silent.
 
I have heard that among the Chasind, there are some tribes that warriors will give themselves a scar for each man they kill. I shuddered to think how many scars I would have accumulated had I adopted such a practice. But I felt I had little choice. I could not let him report back to Yves—assuming that was who he worked for—where we had gone. 
 
I stepped through the slope and found Alistair who was standing in a grove of trees. He held up his hand. “I am trying to clear some magical wards,” he whispered, his brow furrowed in concentration.
 
I stopped and waited, until his expression relaxed. “That should do it,” his voice low. “You…dealt with the follower?”
 
“Yes,” I said, wiping the blood from my daggers on some leaves. I peered through the trees beyond him, making out a meadow and a rustic cottage with a vegetable garden against the slope of another hill, similar but much smaller than the illusion we had passed through. “Is it safe to approach? I would like to observe without being seen before confronting Morrigan.”
 
“Don’t get too far ahead of me,” he cautioned. “There could be more wards ahead.”
 
I nodded and advanced beyond the edge of the trees, confident I was still hidden by their shade. Now, I could see Morrigan and the girl, along with another girl—perhaps fourteen or so—who was lighting a fire for cooking.
 
As I approached, my daughter looked straight at me. “Somebody’s coming, Mommy,” she said. I met those dark eyes, so like her mother’s, on either side of my father’s nose and was transfixed. They seemed to draw me in. I was reminded of when we were hypnotized by the Sloth Demon in the Circle Tower, and trapped us in the Fade. Yet this beautiful child meant me no harm…
 
 “What do you see, child?” With an effort, I forced myself to look away from her, to her mother. Morrigan’s gazed toward me, using a hand to shade her eyes from the sun’s glare, but still could not see me.
 
“I don’t see, but I know they’re there.” The girl shook her little fist in frustration.
 
Seeing Morrigan begin the telltale gestures of a spell, I hurried into the bright sunlight, my hands open in a gesture of peace. “Hello, Morrigan. You might as well come out now,” I called to Alistair. 
 
She stopped in mid-gesture. “I might have known. I told you not to follow me, Aedan. We had a deal. I save your life and in return you leave me be. Instead, here you are. And I see you’ve brought your pet Templar,” she added as Alistair emerged from the trees. The girl at the fire turned toward us, pale with fear. “Oh, do not worry, Ellaire. ‘Tis only Alistair,” she said disdainfully.
 
“Nice to see you, too, Morrigan.” 
 
“No further, please, not until you explain yourselves.” she commanded, pulling her daughter closer to her. “Why have you come?”
 
The little girl looked up at me as I halted my advance. “I had a dream about you.” Her gaze fell on Alistair, who stared back at her. “Both of you were in the dream…it was scary, but you helped me. You kept the monsters away from me.”
 
“What are you talking about, Aife?”
 
“She is telling you why we came. We have dreamed about her. So has every other Warden in Orlais.”
 
Morrigan’s eyes widened in alarm. “What? That’s not—“ her hand flew to her mouth, then fell again. She bit her lip. “’Tis possible,” she conceded, “but it should not have started so soon. She’s not ready.”
 
I sighed. “Ready or not, it’s been going on for a year, now.”
 
“Ellaire, you watch Aife. It appears I have something to talk about with these guests, after all.”
 
Ellaire nodded, and led my daughter away, while Morrigan ushered us into the cottage. Alistair’s gaze followed the little girl. He seemed almost in a trance. I had to take him by the hand to get him moving.
 
“You might have saved us a great deal of trouble by agreeing to meet me in the first place,” I observed, as I sat down beside Alistair on a wooden bench opposite Morrigan.
 
“I was afraid you had come to claim your fatherly rights. I told her that her father died fighting the Blight. I think it’s better that way.”
 
“Maybe it would have been better if it were true.” I gave a long sigh.
 
“You cannot think that. Better to give your life needlessly? I am happy to see you whole and hale, but if you would prefer to be dead, it is clear you lost your mind when you slew the Archdemon. However, you spoke of danger in your letter. What danger? Or did you merely wish to pique my curiosity?”
 
“Morrigan, the Wardens know that the Archdemon did not die in the usual way. They suspect a connection to the dreams that the wardens have been having over the past year. I cannot conceal what was done forever…and the Wardens will find you eventually.”
 
“Why should they? They fight the Darkspawn. Any Warden, even one such as Alistair, can tell she bears no taint.”
 
“But what if the Darkspawn find her?” asked Alistair.
 
“They will not. They cannot. The chantry account of how it happened is—wrong.”
 
“And you know the truth, of course. Well, then, why not come to Weisshaupt with us? You can explain to the First why he has nothing to fear.”
 
“No! Why should I answer to them?” She glared at Alistair, then returned her gaze to me, “Why should you?”
 
“Alistair is right. Weisshaupt will not accept this simply on my word. I am—compromised. They will see me as a coward, and as your collaborator or your tool. Could you at least tell me your plans? What do you plan to do with this—god-child?”
 
“Do? The same as one does with any child. Teach her to be strong, to be proud of who she is.”
 
“Yet you must have some plans…”
 
“I plan to prepare her for what is to come. I will not say more than that, not even to you.”
 
“That’s not good enough. The Wardens will search for her. And they will find her. I killed a man who followed us to this island. You cannot hide here forever.”
 
“’Tis your fault, Aedan. If you hadn’t come looking for me—“
 
“They would still find you eventually. We could sense her from outside the illusion. And we had some notion of where you were from things Wardens had seen in her dreams. You cannot stay here. You must go somewhere where there are no Wardens, unless—Aife—can learn not to pull us into her dreams.”
 
She frowned. “I don’t think ‘twill be possible for her to control, not yet. But there is another way. I had not thought to use it yet, but I had an escape plan, in case Flemeth should find me. Tell Ellaire that the two of you will be joining us for the mid-day meal, and that I have—preparations to make, and am not to be disturbed.
 
We went out to the fire where Ellaire was making stew, while Aife sniffed the blooms in a flowering bush. She giggled as a cloud of butterflies surrounded her. They seemed almost to dance about her, in a way I’d never seen butterflies behave before…
 
“How did you meet Morrigan?” I asked Ellaire as she stirred the stew.
 
“She—saved me from the Templars. My father was an apostate mage. He lived in a small village near here. He wasn’t harming anybody, but the Templars—they came—“
She broke off in distress. “Morrigan took me in. She said she needed someone to watch over Aife when she had to go to Val Royeaux…and I’ve lived here ever since.”
 
“Morrigan told me about you, that you’re the hero of Ferelden, Aife’s father. But she never told me about you.” She turned to Alistair. “She said there was another warden, but—she called you a Templar?”
 
“In another life, a long time ago. I never took vows. It was never something I wanted.”
 
She looked somewhat relieved It was very pleasant, sitting in the shade of a weeping willow, eating stew. I felt relaxed. It almost reminded me of a family gathering back at Castle Cousland all those years ago. 
 
After we had eaten, Morrigan emerged from her cottage, carrying a pack, and said to Ellaire. “’Tis time. You know what to do after I depart.”
 
Ellaire’s eyes widened in alarm. “But—now? So soon? Can’t I go with you?”
 
“No, child. You must ensure that my mother cannot find me.”
 
“Could they not—break the mirror?”
 
 “That would not be sufficient, in itself, not to keep my mother away.”
 
“But what am I to do without you. The Templars—“
 
“Be strong. You know the ways of the beasts and can hide, if need be. You have the power to protect yourself. Come.” Ignoring Ellaire’s distress, and turning to us, “You may see me off, if you wish.”
 
We followed. I hoped for a bit more explanation, but nothing was forthcoming. She touched her hand to the rocky slope behind her cottage. A glow appeared and the slab of rock opened revealing a tunnel. We followed her through it and into a small chamber that was dominated by a huge mirror with an elaborately carved stone frame. The runes on it reminded me of the elven ruins where we had found the Lady. She touched the mirror’s surface which glowed and seemed to ripple.
 
“Are you going to go—through the mirror? Where does it go?”
 
“To another place, beyond this world, beyond the fade. Do not attempt to follow. ‘Twill be some time before I can find a means to return as this portal must be destroyed.
 
“Before I go, allow me to provide you a warning. It is Flemeth you should fear, not me. I thought what she craved was immortality. I was wrong, so very wrong. She is no abomination, no blood mage. She was never human at all.”
 
I nodded. I had never really believed the abomination story. She had been too complex. In my experience, demons were powerful, yet simple creatures, driven by primal desires. “But why should we fear her?”
 
“The ritual is but a means to an end. A herald for what is to come.”
 
Alistair rolled his eyes. I kept my anger in check, but I felt much the same. “Speak plainly for once, Morrigan.”
 
“I…cannot explain. No.”
 
“Will I see you again?”
 
She shook her head. “No. When I return…it will not be until Aife is ready. It will not be for many years. I do not think you and Alistair have so much time.”
 
“Ready? Ready for what?”
 
“For change. Change is coming to the world. Many will fear change, and fight it with every fiber of their being, but sometimes change is necessary. Sometimes it is the only way to set people free…”
 
“What sort of change? What does this have to do with Flemeth?”
 
“I am sorry. I—cannot tell you, my friend. Goodbye.”
 
She moved toward the mirror, taking Aife by the hand. The little girl looked around, bewildered. 
 
Alistair moved onto the dais where the mirror stood, almost in Morrigan’s way. An emotion I had not seen in her before flickered briefly across her face—could it be fear? “Morrigan—thank you,” he said.
 
“What for?” Her eyes narrowed, as if she suspected a trick.
 
“For Aedan, our life together.”
 
“’Twas not for you that I did it.”
 
“I know…but still, thanks.” He stepped down and let her pass to the mirror.
 
Morrigan strode through the mirror, pulling Aife behind her. The little girl turned and cast a forlorn glance at Ellaire, who looked equally stricken, as she disappeared through the mirror.”
 
Then with a heavy sigh, Ellaire raised her arms above her head, spoke a few words in a language I did not understand. The mirror shattered, then the shards began to glow with heat and finally evaporated. 
 
When it was done, she began to weep. “What am I to do? I cannot live here alone, but if the Templars find me, they’ll kill me.”
 
“Would they, really?” I turned to Alistair. “She’s very young.”
 
“It would depend on the Knight Commander. Ordinarily, a girl her age would be brought into the Circle, but she has had training already. They might fear that she would teach…forbidden magics. It would be risky.”
 
“Could I not come with you? I could be a Warden.”
 
“Not yet. No one has ever attempted a joining so young, at least not that I’ve ever heard. And I don’t think you know…what you ask.” I thought for a moment. Maybe we could help her. “There is a man in Val Royeaux named Odouart, a mage outside the circle, who might help you. You may travel with us, there.”
 
She assented. I supposed she saw no real choice.

[maxernst]

32.    A RIVER BARGE: A STARRY NIGHT
 
After paddling paddling to Bellerive, we caught a barge floating down the river that would take us to Val Royeaux by the next morning. It was a warm night and the sky was filled with stars as we stood on the deck of the barge. We sought to learn as much as Ellaire could tell us about Aife and Morrigan.
 
“Aife was…well, when I was with her, I was always content. She always seemed a delightful and charming child. And I will miss her, as well as Morrigan.    And yet, when I was separated from her, and especially now that she is…gone, she seems willful and spoiled, always getting her way. It’s strange.”
 
“More like creepy, as if she controlled your mind,” commented Alistair.
 
“She did not control me in the sense that a blood mage would, but,” The girl frowned. “It’s difficult to describe. Did you not feel it yourselves?”
 
I nodded, while Alistair shook his head, though not in disagreement. “She could be very dangerous if she does not learn to care for others. And she won’t learn that from Morrigan!”
 
“That’s not fair!” objected Ellaire. “Morrigan fought for me, saved me from the Templars, trained me. I owe her everything.”
 
“Only because she had a use for you.”
 
“Everyone is out for themselves. It doesn’t change the fact that she helped me.”
 
“She’s trained you well,” grumbled Alistair. “Everyone is not out for themselves. And…” he glanced over at me. 
 
I thought he was about to say ‘Aedan isn’t either’ but he did not. Was he beginning to doubt me? I felt a pang, but in truth, I found it hard to live up to Alistair’s image of me. Maybe it would be better if he didn’t think I was selfless and heroic. But would he still love me, then?
 
Alistair continued, “A Warden’s life is committed to serving others.”
 
“Yet many do not become Wardens by choice,” countered the girl.
 
“People’s motives—including Morrigan’s--are often too complex to be described as wholly selfish or unselfish. Do you have any sense of what her plans are?”
 
“Probably to make herself Queen of Thedas,” grumbled Alistair, as Ellaire glared at him.
 
I chuckled. “That seems too…worldly an ambition for Morrigan. She was barely able to tolerate having servants wait on her at Eamon’s estate. Can you imagine her holding court?”
 
“She would not seek that kind of power,” agreed Ellaire, “though it was never clear to me what she wanted, other than to counter her Mother. She spoke often about change, but as to what kind, how it would come about…” she shrugged. Forestalling my question, she added, “And no, she never told me what she thought her Mother was up to, either.”
 
“Inability to answer direct questions seems to run in her family.” I could not disagree with Alistair there.
 
“Do you really think we should have killed that little girl?” I asked him, after Ellaire had gone to her cabin.
 
He did not reply for a long time. “I don’t think that I could have, to be honest. But that scares me. I worry about what use Morrigan could make of her ability to influence minds. If she were raised by a normal mother, in a loving family….”
 
“You think we should have kidnapped her, then? A Warden outpost is not a good place to raise a child.”
 
He sighed. “I suppose you’re right.” He looked out over the dark water.
 
“In any case, if she’s right about when she’ll return, we’ll never know.”
 
“Do you think that makes it better? I don’t. At least if Morrigan springs her traps when we’re alive, we could hope to stop her.”
 
“It’s out of our hands now. I suppose that other Wardens will have time to prepare and understand what she is, at least.” I pulled him close to me and put my head on his shoulder. “I don’t know if we did the right thing, but it seems wrong to kills someone simply for being who they are. She may be powerful and dangerous, but…so are we, in our own ways. I’m not wise enough to guess how my actions will come out in thirty years. Maybe Flemeth can see so far, but I’m…just happy that I still have you beside me. I’m looking forward to going home.”
 
He turned his head in surprise. “Home? I thought we would be headed to Weisshaupt tomorrow.”
 
 “Do you still think we ought to go?” I asked, hoping—but not expecting—that he would say no. 
 
“I sent a message saying that I was on my way.”
 
“It’s just that—now—there’s no reason to conceal anything. They called you because they knew I had not told them the truth. I can tell them everything in a letter, and for better or for worse, the girl is surely beyond their reach.” And I don’t feel like defending my choices to people who left Ferelden to burn.
 
“I gave my word—and I think we owe them an explanation. In person.” 
 
Owe them? What for? What have they ever done for us, except shorten our lives and give us nightmares. Give us purpose and made us brothers, I imagined Alistair arguing. “I really want to go home. But if you insist…” I would try to change his mind, after we got back to Val Royeaux, I decided.

[DreGregoire]

uhoh. I can't wait for the next installment. I mean I'll have to but... hurry up! LOL. Will he be able to convince Alistair or will they go to the order and tell their tale? Aaaaaahhhhhh, it's gonna drive me nuts! *takes deep cleansing breaths* Okay I'm better now. Kind of. Hurry!

Modifié par DreGregoire, 05 avril 2011 - 01:47 .

[maxernst]

Glad to hear I'm holding your interest. Don't worry, the next chapter should go up pretty soon. It's basically written, but I always like to go back to it a day later for final edits. Although I still seem to wind up with a bunch of typos....

[maxernst]

33. VAL ROYEAUX: UNFORESEEN REPERCUSSIONS
 
We brought Ellaire at the herbalist’s in the morning and were relieved that he thought he could find a place for her in Val Royeaux. Ordinarily, I would not entrust a young girl to a man I did not know well, but I supposed that Morrigan would certainly have taught her to defend herself, should he have untoward intentions. It was another steaming, sunny day, and we sweated profusely as we climbed the Holy Hill toward Sybille’s palace.
 
As soon as we approached the Palais de Montfleurie, it was obvious that something was going on. It appeared that a caravan of goods was being assembled in the courtyard. I asked the guard at the gate—it wasn’t the usual one—what was happening.
 
“The Comtesse and her son have left for their estates for a time, and some of their belongings are being sent after them.”
 
“What? So suddenly? Why?”

”You’ll have to speak to Madame Leliana, Commander.”
 
I spotted her near the caravan, conversing with Sybille’s valet. Her eyes were red and puffy as she turned to me.
 
“Oh, I did not see you come in. I was preoccupied…”
 
“Yes, I can understand that, but what’s going on?”
 
She took a deep breath. “There was an attack on Le Cheval Blanc last night. A number of our friends were killed….Thierry…Thierry was my oldest friend. I can’t quite believe…” She closed her eyes and winced.
 
“I’m so sorry, Leli.” 
 
“They came through the cellar…we were betrayed.” My mouth dropped open involuntarily in horror as I realized that this was my fault.   “I advised Sybille to retire to her estates for a time. It’s going to be too dangerous here for a while. I’m afraid that you and Alistair will have to find somewhere else to stay.”
 
“We were planning to leave today, anyway, but I had hoped to thank her for her hospitality and I’m sure Alistair wanted to say goodbye to Rogier.” Maker, I could not have repaid her hospitality in a more horrible way. In my haste to find Morrigan, I had not considered that the door in the cellar could be used to gain access to the inn. I had thought of it only as a place for secret conversation. “You are not going with her?”
 
“No. I must stay here to rebuild our position…to call in old favors…to see that those responsible pay. But not at the Palais. A few servants will remain to maintain it, but I will be going into hiding for a while.”
 
“If there’s anything I can do…or that Alistair can do, please let us know.” Please let me help make amends for this catastrophe. I hesitated. Should I reveal that I was the source of the leak? It was important that she know that the attack must have come from the Empress. I bit my lip as I considered how to break this to her.
 
I did not have time. Four armored men in the royal livery came marching up the walk toward me. “Commander Aedan Cousland,” one of them called out. “The Empress demands your presence at the Palais Royeaux immediately. We are to escort you there. Now.”
 
I stared at them. “Am I…under arrest?”
 
He tapped his gauntleted hand against his thigh. “Her majesty does not tell me why she wants people; I just follow orders.. But she does not like to be kept waiting.”
 
I allowed them to take me to the Palace. As I left Sybille’s, I looked at Leli over my shoulder. She was watching me depart with narrow eyes, dark with suspicion. 
 
Celene awaited me in a small audience chamber decorated with portraits of her ancestors and a huge tapestry commemorating some great Orlesian victory in battle. She was sitting on a carved oak chair with gold inlay, raised on a marble dais, with her arms folded beneath her breasts. She ignored protocol and began speaking before I even had time to kneel. “What have you done with Morrigan, Commander?”
 
“Done? Nothing. I passed on information, as I intended. What have you done to Leliana’s friends?”
 
“Done? Nothing. We passed on information.” she echoed. “There was a dead man on the island, and he was slain by blade, not magic. Do you seriously expect us to believe that you had nothing to do with this? It seems to us the unexpected danger Morrigan needed to fear was you.”
 
So she knew the contents of the letter, as I expected. “ The man followed me. I parted with Morrigan as friends and she chose to leave—freely—when she learned the situation.”
 
“Tell us where she went.”
 
“Tell me why you attacked Le Cheval Blanc, Your Majesty!”
 
She snorted. “You think to trade information again? We could have you arrested, charged with murder, held until you chose to tell us where Morrigan is…and more.”
 
“I have proven difficult to capture and harder to hold in the past, Your Majesty. And imprisoning an Arl from Ferelden could have political repercussions, as you know.” Though given Anora’s lack of love for me, most likely would not.
 
“You try our patience, but very well. Her faction will have already guessed why the attack came and from whom. We felt that Sybille’s faction had grown too strong and we distrusted their dealings with Nevarra. So we mentioned a point of weakness in their armor to a rival.   We were surprised by the effectiveness of the strike. Your Leliana’s friends were ill prepared. A surprising mistake.” 
 
They relied on trust…which I abused. “I informed Morrigan of a serious danger to her and her daughter. She removed herself by magic, through some sort of mirror. I cannot say where she is, but she described it as ‘beyond this world and beyond the fade.’ The mirror was destroyed, so that she cannot be followed.”
 
Celene let out a short, frustrated grown and clenched her fists than composed herself again.    “Well, it seems that we both broke promises and were disappointed by the results.” She gave a weary sigh. “Perhaps we both got what we deserved.”
 
“Did Thierry get what he deserved, as well?”
 
She folded her arms again. “Thierry was no common innkeeper and he knew the risks he ran. We speak with the voice of ten million souls. What are the lives of a few minor players in the game compared with our interests? As a Warden, I would have thought you would understand that sometimes individuals must be sacrificed for the good of the whole.” She stared at me with those cool, grey eyes. The brief moment of candor, when the human being behind the mask had briefly shown through, was over. “Goodbye, Commander. This audience is at an end.”
 
 

[DreGregoire]

ooooohhhhhhh no. Aedan is in trouble with Leliana. heh, Aedan can't help falling into holes of his own making from time to time, eh? LOL. I'm looking forward to the next release

[Doodle]

Wow, just brilliant, i found this yesterday and couldn't stop reading it, i just finished it and i cannot wait for the next part

[Maria13]

Aedan seems to be burning all his bridges very quickly now... When Ali at last wakes up...

Hmmm...

[DreGregoire]

Maria13 wrote...

Aedan seems to be burning all his bridges very quickly now... When Ali at last wakes up...

Hmmm...

Please don't go there. You'll just break my heart!

[maxernst]

Thanks for all the continued interest. I was worried about wherther I could execute this plot line successfully. I wanted Aedan to make a mistake with serious consequences (something he largely avoided during the Blight), and I needed to it to really be his fault, ytet comprehensible enough that he wouldn't be viewed as an idiot or a monster.

[maxernst]

34. THE PALAIS DE MONTFLEURIE: LIVING WITH CONSEQUENCES
 
I hurried back to Sybille’s hoping that I could somehow explain what I had done to Leliana. The festival grounds were even busier than they had been when we left to find Morrigan; I supposed the numbers would increase daily until the finale. I perspired as I climbed the hill. I was almost glad of the dark clouds gathering in the west, for although a storm was hardly auspicious weather for travel, it would at least break this oppressive heat.
 
I walked through the gate and into the great hall, where a hard-eyed Leliana met me. “It was you. It was the only thing that made sense, with the timing…but I didn’t want to believe it. I couldn’t believe it.” Though her face was as expressionless as stone, her eyes were watery. “Damn you to the Black City, Aedan. How could you?”
 
“I was going to tell you, but you had left and I didn’t think—I just thought of it as a meeting place, I never dreamed…” I stammered.
 
“You didn’t know because you chose not to know. You told me you did not want a part in the Game and I respected that. And you repay me by tilting the board in your ignorance. How could you be such a fool? And make such a fool of me.” She shook her head.
 
“I—I’m sorry.” It was a lame and pointless thing to say; my sorrow solved nothing. “If there’s anything I can do…”
 
 “A wise person told me once that even if someone takes advantage of your weakness, it is still your weakness. And so, I must take my share of responsibility for this. It is not all your fault. We sought only to alleviate the border tensions with Nevarra, and did not foresee that the Empress might have reasons for maintaining the hostile peace. After Jehannette, we should have known better, been prepared.”
 
Jehannette? Maker, that was my fault too, though she still did not know that. I suddenly recalled the elderly lady whose voice had reminded me of Leliana at the Ambassador’s estate. With a coldness in my stomach, I realized that it had been her. She had bragged of her mastery of disguise before and I had given it no thought. I bowed my head and could say nothing to answer Leliana.
 
“Yes, it is my fault,” she continued, “but I could never have believed you would be another Marjolaine. And for what? Because you wanted to talk to Morrigan!”
 
“I…thought it was important. I didn’t think.”
 
“No, you didn’t think. Don’t try to explain. What you did was inexcusable.”
 
I swallowed. “I know. I know. Leliana, please let me help. I can’t bring your friends back, but I can help you rebuild, spy for you, kill for you. I’ll do everything in my power to help you recover from this…”
 
A series of expressions flickered across her face: calculation and desperation struggled to emerge, but distrust and anger won out. “You’ve done enough! Take your things and go.” She turned on her heel and went out to the courtyard.
 
As bidden I went to gather my things from the room I had shared with Alistair at the palace. He had already gathered his things into his pack and put on his armor. At least, I assumed that he was wearing it, for neither he nor the armor were in the room. In a fog of sorrow, I managed to fill my pack. This was not the way I had thought to leave the Palais. Last night, it had all seemed so perfect. The girl was gone and would not trouble my dreams again and we were together. And now my friendship with Leliana was shattered, Sybille had fled, and I was not looking forward to explaining this to Alistair…if Leliana had not already done so, I thought with a chill. I picked up Alistair’s pack and dragged it out, along with my own.
 
I passed Leliana on my way through the courtyard, but she turned away and I did not try to say goodbye. The guard at the gate told me that Alistair had gone to get horses for the journey. I sat down by the edge of the road and waited for him. The clouds I had seen earlier drew nearer, and their shadow rendered the wait a little more comfortable than it would have been earlier in the day.
 
By the time my love arrived, a cool northerly wind had begun to rustle the branches of the cherry trees that lined the road. He had only brought one horse with him. Not a good sign. He pulled on its reins, bringing the horse to a stop and stared at me for a moment before dismounting and moving to pick up his pack.
 
“Aedan…please tell me Leli is wrong.” His voice was soft, the look in his eyes bewildered.
 
 Should I lie? He might believe me, but if he didn’t, it would only make things worse. Dishonesty had put me in this mess and it was a dangerous path to keep following, I decided. I closed my eyes and bowed my head. “I’m…sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” I heard a distant rumble of thunder, and rain started to fall.
 
He winced then his eyes emptied of expression. I had not seen that look since the days after Ostagar, at Flemeth’s hut. “You…oh, Andraste’s blood, why? How could you?”
 
“I was afraid Yves would get to Morrigan before us. I thought it was important and that I could warn Leli and Sybille.” A shadow of doubt pulled at me.  Could the girl have somehow influenced me through the dream? But no, I would not shirk responsibility for this so easily. It was not the first time I had assumed careless risks in single-minded pursuit of my goals, just the first time my designs had gone so horribly awry.
 
He snorted. “Important? Important? More important than your word? To one of our dearest friends? Have you no honor? I thought friendship meant something to you!”
 
“It was a mistake.” My voice was hoarse; I could barely get the words out.
 
“I can’t understand how the man I loved—the man I thought I knew—could do this.” He was looking away from me now. Was that a tear on his cheek or just a raindrop? He shook his head, as if trying to wake himself up from a nightmare. “I don’t know who you are anymore. These past few weeks….I have to go.” His voice cracked on ‘have’.
 
You don’t have to do this. You don’t even want to. Please don’t. “Go?” I echoed. “Where?”
 
“Weisshaupt.” He said, tying the pack onto his horse and keeping his face averted from me. “I said I would go, and I will.”
 
“But we can go together. We said we would face whatever came together.” I pleaded, trying to keep desperation from rendering my voice shrill.
 
He made a small, strangled noise. I think it was an attempt to laugh. “Oh, together!” his voice breaking. “Together! Like we were together when you were sneaking around for Celene, betraying Leli’s friends…”
 
I lowered my eyes. I had no answer for that. I had not lived up to my end of the bargain. He moved to get on his horse. If I could just take him in my arms and make him listen to me…I reached out to embrace him, but he pulled away, leaving me off balance. I fell at his feet and did not bother to get up. “Alistair, please,” I groveled.
 
Still not meeting my eyes, he said only, “Goodbye,” and mounted his horse.
 
“But you will come back?” I called after him. He did not reply, or even look back. I watched in disbelief as my golden warden rode off into the distance.
 
I knelt there in the mud, with the rain beating down upon me, for a long time after he had gone.

[maxernst]

@Dre Gregoire--sorry for the heartbreak.

[DreGregoire]

*cries* I can't believe you would do this to me! You are just so lucky I can't get through these wires at you. *sniff sniff* okay I forgive you *pouts*.

I loved it as usual. I'm gonna go and get cuddles from my hubby now.

Edit: Wait wait I just reread and Alistair said loved as in past tense, Please tell me that's a typo. *cries some more*

Modifié par DreGregoire, 10 avril 2011 - 03:06 .

[maxernst]

Well, I'm glad you forgave me...as to Alistair's use of the past tense, well, that's what he says in the moment, but the truth is more complicated, I think. He can't free himself from Aedan so easily as that.

[maxernst]

35. MEMORIES: A DARK RITUAL
 
After I gave up hoping that Alistair would turn around—and found the strength to rise to my feet again—I staggered off to Enrique’s home. I had never been there, though Leliana had described it to me. He rented a room in an old palace on the lower, southern flank of the royal hill, not far from the festival grounds. I am not sure why I assumed he would be there, but I was not incorrect.
 
“Aedan? What are you doing here? You can hardly think that Yves will not hear of this visit.”
 
“It doesn’t matter now. Nothing matters…”
 
He stared at me. I suppose I must have looked a sight: my clothes drenched with rain and spattered with mud and maker knows what expression on my face. “You look like you spent three days wandering the Black City. Come in and sit down.” He looked through the doorway behind me. “Where’s Alistair?”
 
“Gone…” I said, lowering myself into a plain wooden chair. Enrique’s room, though clean and spacious, was austere, with a minimum of personal belongings. The walls were bare, without paintings or tapestries.
 
His eyes widened. “Did he…slay the godchild?”
 
“What?” I rubbed my forehead, bewildered for a moment, then shook my head. “No. No, he’s gone to Weisshaupt. Without me.” Halting often to compose myself, I slowly explained what had transpired on the island and after. “I need you to send a letter to Weisshaupt and witness it, explaining everything. Letting them know it was all me, that Alistair never even knew. It’s not his fault. You can make a copy for Yves if you so desire; there’s no point in secrecy any more.”
 
“I take it I’m free of my promise then?”
 
“Yes, I…hated forcing your cooperation like that, but I just…I’m sorry. For many things. And it doesn’t matter now.”
 
He nodded, saying nothing. “If we’re going to do this properly, you need to tell me the whole story, and everything you can about Morrigan. We can do this tomorrow, if you’re not feeling up to it now.”
 
I shook my head. “Let’s get it over with.” I wasn’t feeling up to it, but I doubted I would feel any better tomorrow. Or the next day. 
 
He got his quills and ink ready and poured us some wine as I began. I told him about how we had met Morrigan, and about her mother. And then, I described the end of the story, the part that Sybille would never hear.
 
“After the Landsmeet was over and Anora had charged me with leading the armies against the Darkspawn, our scouts told us there was a great Darkspawn host moving in southwestern Ferelden. We hurried to Redcliffe to try and cut them off. Redcliffe Castle is on a high hill, excellent for defense and with a commanding view of the southern plains. Some Darkspawn had already arrived before us and overrun the village, but fortunately most of its people had fled to the relative safety of the castle. It was not difficult to overcome the Darkspawn besieging the fortress, and there our army set up camp, awaiting the arrival of the main horde.
 
It was that night that Riordan explained the real reason we carry the taint. I had wondered, for simply being able to sense them did not seem much of an advantage when we also drew them to us. And as I listened to him, my heart sank. Of course, Riordan said that he would strike the final blow, but somehow I knew it would not happen that way. I felt certain that it would come down to me and Alistair in the end, just as it had after Ostagar. Even if we succeeded—and by this time, I was beginning to believe that we really could win—there was to be no reward, no happy ending for us.
 
After Riordan left us, I gave Alistair a long, desperate kiss and then told him I wanted to walk for a while on the battlements on my own. And there, I met Morrigan. I suppose she had followed me, perhaps in one of her other forms. She told me there was another way, that the Archdemon could be slain and the Blight ended without a Warden needing to die. She would not tell me very much about the outcome of the ritual, other than that a child would be conceived and—if the Archdemon were slain when it was still barely formed—its soul would merge with the child. She promised me that the child would not bear the taint, but told me nothing else of her plans.
 
Maker damn me, but I took her offer. It just seemed so wrong that after everything that we had been through, everything we had done, that we would have to lose what we had, so soon after finding it. I was tired of being virtuous and laying my life on the line for everybody else, as we had for months. I wanted a little happiness, a chance to live with my love…”
 
“How old were you?”
 
“I passed my twentieth winter in the Deep Roads. Alistair was a year older than me.”
 
“So young. I suppose I was hasty to judge. The four Wardens that died were older men, past their prime. It’s a harder sacrifice for one so young. One forgets…so what happened then? I thought the final battle was in Denerim?”
 
“It was. It turned out our reports were wrong and the main body of the Darkspawn host—with the Archdemon at its head—was headed to Denerim. We were almost too late. Denerim’s wall had been breached near the alienage and Darkspawn had poured into the city. We carved a swath through the Darkspawn army to the gates.
 
At that point, we split up. Riordan insisted that it was best for him to go after the Archdemon alone, that by himself he would not be sensed. He would lure it to the roof of Fort Drakon and try to slay it there. Alistair and I, along with Oghren and Wynne and some of the troops we had gained through the treaties, were to fight our way through the city, defeating the Darkspawn generals and prevent further Darkspawn from coming through the breach. The remainder of our group—Leliana, my hound Conal, Zevran and Morrigan—stayed with Ferelden’s army to help them hold the gates. No, Morrigan didn’t come with us at the end. I judged that the powerful spells she wielded—she could generate lightning storms, blizzards, and balls of flame—would be best suited to dealing with vast numbers, and so she would be most helpful to an army. Wynne, on the other hand, specialized in healing, regenerating, strengthening our bodies and spirits, and so I decided her talents better suited to a smaller group like ours. I left Morrigan and the others at the gate, and never saw her again until yesterday. Though we had little hope of holding the gates indefinitely against such numbers, if we could just keep them sealed until the Archdemon was slain, there was hope of saving the city.
 
The ogre general in the marketplace was not difficult, just a big tough warrior, not so different from the ones we had faced before. The Hurlock general in the alienage, however was a powerful emissary and his spells wreaked havoc with our attempt to stem the tide of Darkspawn. But some of the elves of the alienage helped us as best they could, and the natural resistance of the dwarven warriors to magic also aided us in bringing him down. We had cleared much of the city and received word that the gates held, for now. 
 
But Riordan had failed, even as I had foreseen. He had lured it to the roof of Fort Drakon, but he had not slain it, and it called the remaining Darkspawn in the city to it. We had to fight our way in, and this proved one of our most difficult battles. They had an advantageous position on the steps going up to the fort, and there were several emissaries and drakes along with many of the most potent warriors among the Darkspawn. Our journey—and Ferelden’s hopes of survival—very nearly ended there, on that final threshold. But with the help of the Dalish elves, Wynne’s healing magics, and Alistair’s Templar training, we broke through and made our way into the fort.
 
The interior of the fort had mostly been overwhelmed by the Darkspawn, but the lowest level was free of them. And somehow, Sandal—the adopted son of a dwarven merchant that had traveled with us—was there, surrounded by dead. I cannot explain it. I had never seen Sandal fight, or give any indication of ability to do anything, other than his skill with enchanting runes. He was simple, probably lyrium-addled, and could barely speak. It is a mystery that bothers me to this day how he survived in there.
 
We fought our way through the upper levels and made it out to the roof, where the Archdemon awaited. What I mostly remember of that final battle was the noise. You will recall how the Archdemon whispered to us in dreams, but when he’s nearby, it’s no whispering, but a clamor of voices, shouting, screaming…if this be sweet music to the Darkspawn, I can only say that the taint I bear does not give me any insight into their minds. And I am glad of that.
 
It was not, in the end, as hard as many other fights. I think it sensed me and Alistair and feared us. It stayed away from us and we mostly engaged it with arrows while the circle mages and a few others—Arl Eamon, Ser Cauthrien—dealt with the darkspawn who were still trying to answer its call. I don’t know why it stayed on the roof. Had it flown outside the gates into the rest of its army, I think it could have saved itself. Perhaps it did not know that we were the only Wardens remaining in Ferelden.
 
When it was bleeding from so many wounds that its force was clearly spent and it lay defenseless and dying, I ran forward to deliver the coup de grace. Alistair was running too, but in my lighter armor, I reached the thing first. I still wasn’t sure if Morrigan’s ritual had worked and I did not want to live without Alistair.
 
I leaped onto its neck and plunged my daggers deep. There was a great flash and I was paralyzed for a moment. And then it was over.
 
But it was for nothing, in the end. I wish I had died with the Archdemon.” I buried my head in my hands.
 
“Nothing? Nothing? Have you any idea how much I envy you?”
 
I lifted my head and stared at him.
 
“Five years. And he may yet return whereas my Riquilda…you asked me once what I would have done to have a life with her. We could have. At first—I have no idea why—we thought my petition of marriage would be successful. Her brother was my friend, and I had already attracted notice for my swordsmanship, and was to be knighted that summer. We were foolish enough to think that would be enough, that her father would overlook the fact that I was the third son of a petty baron, without land or title.
 
When instead, he offered her hand to the Principe, I begged her to run away with me. But she would not. Maybe she just didn’t love me enough to become the wife of a common sellsword, for I would have had to flee the island, and abandon what social position I had. Or maybe she loved her duty to her family more than she loved me. I don’t know.” He gave a long sigh and stared into his wineglass.
 
He finished writing the letter. I read it, and signed it.
 
As he poured out another goblet of wine, I asked, “How did you go on, when you had lost…everything that mattered?” 
 
He sighed again. “Aedan, if you don’t kill yourself—and you won’t—“
 
“What makes you so sure?”
 
“You would need to be both a fool and a coward for that.”
 
“You called me both, when we first met.”
 
“So I did, but coward was a hasty judgment on my part. As I was saying, if you don’t kill yourself, you will wake up one morning and realize that there are other things that matter to you. I don’t know if that morning will be in a fortnight, or a year, or ten years, but I can promise you it will come.”
 
“Time heals all wounds,” I said, my voice filled with bitterness and disbelief.
 
He shook his head. “Do I seem healed to you? You’ve seen enough battle to know that there are wounds that will not heal by time alone. But even with those, you do grow used to the pain.”
 
“Aedan, I do not have the wisdom to say if your choices have been for well or ill. We all make mistakes. Your mistakes, like your successes, reach farther and have impact on a scale far beyond mine or anyone else I know. But I don’t think you’re a bad man, for what it’s worth.”
 
“Not good enough,” I mumbled. I gulped down the rest of my wine and fled.

[DreGregoire]

Awww... *sniffle sniffle* Very nice addition to the tale. I look forward to your next release.

[maxernst]

36. PORT ROYEAUX: A LETTER
 
I woke up and rolled over into a man’s strong back. “Alistair…?” I asked groggily. I rubbed my throbbing forehead. Was I waking up from a nightmare? Then, I realized that Alistair didn’t have that much hair on his back. I lurched out of a hard pallet, wondering where I was. The floor seemed to be moving…had I booked passage on a ship back to Ferelden already? I couldn’t remember having done so, but I couldn’t remember much from after I left Enrique’s, least of all how I had met the strange, black-haired men with whom I had apparently spent the night. Maker, I felt horrible.
 
I threw up into a chamber pot that was near the bed and sat down on the floor. Not much had come out of my stomach; I must not eaten very much last night. I had not felt like eating, I remembered. I must have sought oblivion in wine, but now that was wearing off, leaving me feeling as sick to my stomach as I was sick to my soul.
 
After emptying my guts, I felt a little better. I found some elfroot in my pack and chewed on it. I lacked the energy to make a proper poultice, but it would ease my headache somewhat and help to settle my stomach. In time, the floor seemed to stabilize and I realized I was not at sea. I pulled myself to my feet, opened the shutters and looked out over the docks. I must have wound up in one of the dives down by the harbor. Well, at least I wouldn’t have to go far to find passage out of Val Royeaux. There was no reason for me to stay here, now.
 
Not that there was much reason to return to Ferelden, either. If it hadn’t been for Alistair, I would have left the wardens long ago. What I really wanted to do was pursue him, as I had when he left Amaranthine, but this time, I didn’t think there was any point. At least if I went back, he would know where to find me, if he changed his mind.
 
Not bothering to say goodbye to the sleeping sailor, or whoever he was, I put on my travel gear, grabbed my things and dragged myself down to the inn’s common room. I sat down heavily by the bar, and a serving wench brought me some coarse, crusty bread and a tisane. She arched an eyebrow slightly at the latter request, “A rough night?” I couldn’t even muster a smile in response, and merely grunted.
 
After I had finished, I found a quill and some vellum in my pack and began to write a letter. If I sent it with a ship, it would probably arrive in Weisshaupt long before he did. Perhaps it was pointless. For a man plagued by self-doubt, Alistair was nevertheless capable of swift and decisive action. But I had to try.
 
                                                                                                Val Royeaux, Justinian 5
 
Alistair,
 
My dearest love.
 
I hope that your journey to Weisshaupt went well. I cannot tell you how much I wish I was there with you, and I pray that you are treated with the courtesy and respect you deserve. I have sent a letter that should explain everything to the First, and absolve you of any blame. 
 
I have been thinking about what you said. Maybe it’s true. Maybe I have no honor. Maybe I’m selfish and unscrupulous and undeserving of your love. It may be that the way that I fight is emblematic of my approach to everything in life. I can’t even say that my betrayal of Leliana was the first time I had broken a promise to someone who helped me. Ask Anora about that. Or Morrigan, for I did not slay her mother as she wished. I misread the stakes and made a horrible mistake. 
 
Maybe you really didn’t know me. I was always afraid that if you saw me as less than heroic that you wouldn’t love me. That was why I concealed what I had done with Morrigan for so long, why I didn’t tell you how I had gained Celene’s assistance. I guess I abused your trust, just as I abused Leliana’s.   Every time I’ve deceived you or hid things from you it was out of fear of your disapproval. Was that the only way? Did I win your love falsely?
 
Perhaps it’s true that the man you fell in love with was an illusion. But the man who loves you is real, and would do anything, try to be anything, to win you back, if you’ll only give me another chance.
 
I will return to Amaranthine, though the prospect of commanding the Wardens without you by my side is a bitter one. But I know that you would want me to do that, and so, I will, though I truly don’t know how I will be able to do it without you. I don’t know if you ever really understood how much I depend on your faith in me. I have always relied on you to give me strength and purpose. But I will go back there and wait and hope for your safe return. The hope that you might change your mind will have to be reason enough to keep me going.
 
I love you. I need you. Please come home.
 
With all my love, always,
 
Aedan
 
I closed the letter, dripped some candle wax onto the seam, and pressed my warden commander ring into it. After that, I paid my bill, strapped my pack onto my back, and went to the harbor to seek passage to Ferelden.
 
I found a ship that was leaving Highever that day and the captain agreed to take me there. Perhaps I would keep my promise of a proper visit to my brother, after all. Maybe putting more effort toward keeping promises would help win Alistair back, and in any case I was in no hurry to go back to Amaranthine. Although I suspected Fergus would find me dreary company now…
 
After we had set sail, I stood on the stern of the ship, watching Val Royeaux recede into the distance. Somewhere beyond the city, my golden warden rode away to the north, every instant taking him farther away from me.
 
I pulled the gilded rose Alistair had given me six years ago out of its pouch and held it over the rolling waters. I admired the way it gleamed in the sunlight. It was a beautiful, precious and fragile thing. I needed only to open my hand and it would have fallen into the depths and been lost forever, like the beautiful, fragile and precious thing it had represented.
 
I closed my hand tightly and returned the rose to its pouch. I was not ready to let go. Surely, he would come back. He had to come back.
THE END

Thanks for reading and all the way through  the longest fiction I've ever attempted, let alone completed.  Actually, it may not really be the end.  I have a final story which would be entitled "Alistair's Journey" if I can rouse the creative energy to get it out.

[Maria13]

Damn! I'm sad for Aedan...

[maxernst]

And here I was beginning to think you wanted to see the poor fellow suffer, Maria. It's all your fault, you know. If you hadn't questioned me about Alistair's portrayal a few months ago (even if I didn't end up taking your advice), I might never have taken a harder look at their relationship and wound up with such this ending. Not that I'm complaining (although Aedan was my first warden is close to my heart so it was painful to write), since I couldn't come up with any other ending that really satisfied me.

[DreGregoire]

You mean you tortured him like that because of something Maria said? Maria!!! I am so gonna blame you for Maxernst breaking my heart! *cries* I need to stop rereading this. I'm going back to watching Ghost Whisperer. It makes me cry too, but it doesn't break my heart. . heheh I'm okay really .

[Maria13]

@ Urrrrrrrrrrgh Sorry...

@ Maxernst I should have added that I thought it was a great ending because after hating Aedan's arrogance a little bit and the total control he seems to exert over Ali:
1 Ali suddenly takes the initiative and leaves showing he's no rag doll after all and,
2 Aedan is left pining for his 'golden warden' (I love that phrase). As Dre you got some great poignancy in there right at the end where it counts.