I'm glad you liked it. Nothing makes me happier. I'm not a fan of first person, either but it was a nice change of pace and seemed to fit considering all of the inner turmoil that needed to be said.
And because you're my new favorite person....
Chapter Two
“Tell me why.”
It is a demand not a friendly suggestion.
The friendship between the two of us had been lost the moment Anora’s name had fallen from my lips. The pain on his face that day had started me down this road but my feet had finished carrying me along.
I could have stayed at his side. I could have become Queen but my fear had far outweighed my love for him. Or so I had thought at the time. Back then my focus had been on the Archdemon, ending the Blight and making Fereldan safe again. The future had seemed like a far off thing, dim and warped like the Fade.
But this was life staring me in the face; mocking me, goading me. I can still close my eyes and remember how gentle his touch had been, the words he had whispered when no one else could hear. I had loved him with everything I had. Now I felt empty, lost and wandering in a world where I was no longer needed.
“I have no desire to answer unless you order it, Your Majesty.”
His cheeks begin to flush, eyes narrowing, and I realize that pushing him too far might not be a good idea. I needed to get away from him, from the pain and betrayal that have dulled his eyes. I can not afford to become weak, not when I have come this far.
“Stop calling me that.” He growls.
His hold on my arms is trembling. They will be bruised by morning but I make no move to pull away.
“I was your friend before I became King, or does none of that matter to you anymore?”
“Everything still matters. All of it.” My voice is small, thin, so unlike me. I can feel that old familiar weight bearing down and become afraid. “Let me go.”
His expression falls, anger replaced by sadness. This was the Alistair I remembered, the one who stole my heart and had yet to give it back.
“No.” He states, voice as hard as stone. “Not again. Not ever.”
The barrier that I made just for him begins to crack.
“Alistair.” Anora’s voice wafts from over his shoulder.
His hazel eyes meet mine and there is the briefest moment of uncertainty before his resolve comes crashing down. I do not want to hear or see this. I can not allow myself to find hope only to have it trampled once again.
“Leave us, Anora.” He says, not taking his eyes from me.
“Bann Teagan has arrived to-.”
“I know why he’s here. He can wait.”
The distraction has loosened his hold and I slip free of him, darting down the steps two at a time, ignoring his call.
Ignoring the fact that he still loves me.
* * * * * *
I stand in the open stable door, eying the purple sky over Denerim. Gathering supplies for the trip had eaten up most of the afternoon but I was determined to leave, even if it meant traveling at night. Buying a horse had not been part of my plan but time was of the essence, more so now than ever.
The only positive news was that it was no longer raining though the clouds still threatened to do just that. I hear the soft thud of hooves and turn to see the stable boy leading the mare I had picked. She is solid ebony with a patch of white around her left eye. Though in great shape, it had been the wild look in her blue eyes that had drawn me to her. She would not frighten easily if confronted with battle and I needed something stable considering the kind of attention that flocked to me.
“Here y-you are, Miss. S-saddled and r-ready to go.”
The boy is young, barely in his teens, and so nervous that he can hardly form a coherent sentence. He knows who I am, a rare thing so long after the Blight. Very few knew me on sight anymore and I am glad for that. Better that I fade from their memories and they from mine; no harm is done that way.
Or so I convince myself.
The mare nudges my shoulder before sliding her cold nose beneath my arm. She is as eager to be gone as I. I hand the boy a gold coin, admiring the saddle he had put in place. It was of good quality, certainly fancier than anything I had owned in Highever. Frowning, I step forward just as the coin falls to the hay strewn ground.
His mouth is now flapping open, eyes as wide as plates fixed on the entryway behind me. Somehow I know but I turn regardless. Alistair approaches, flanked on either side by his most trusted guards. There are five of them in all.
Including Zevran.
The boy falls to his knee, shaking, but before I can try to calm him, Alistair reaches out to ruffle his hair.
“There’s no need for that, Mani. I thought you would be use to me coming here by now.”
“I-I’m sorry, Your Majesty. M-momma told me to always bow and I’m more scared of her than you.”
The smile that lightens his face takes away all of the hardships and sadness that he has no doubt had to endure. Before me now is the man I had met at Ostagar, unburdened by the deaths of those closest to him, not yet betrayed by me. The sadness and regret is like the weight of the world to my heart.
“I prepared her horse just like you asked, Your Majesty.” The boy continues, getting to his feet. “Torrin is getting the others ready out back.”
That wipes the smile off his face in a hurry, a nervous chuckle floating through the air as he avoids my glare. “Ah, well, thank you for that, Mani. You kept that secret perfectly.”
The boy beams and skips off past the guards and a highly amused Zevran. My eyes never waiver from Alistair’s and his discomfort only grows.
“I can explain-.”
“You’re going to accompany me?” I cut in. To hell with protocol. I disliked being blindsided in battle or in life.
I can actually see his posture stiffen. It seems that his time dealing with Anora and the political debacles of Fereldan had strengthen his pride somewhat. It was good to see, even if it was aimed at me.
“I am King. Unless the taint has addled my brain, I recall being able to go where I wish.”
“I hardly see how endangering yourself in the Deep Roads will benefit your kingdom.”
“I hardly see how remaining here will either.”
“I sense that much joy and good times await us on our journey, my friends. It is a feeling in my gut and my gut is never wrong.” Zevran comments, eyes gleaming with mischief.
“This discussion is over.” Alistair states, turning away. “We leave once the horses are prepared.”
He exits through the front, his guards tagging along close behind. Only Zevran hesitates, his expression wistful.
“I wonder how long it will take, my dear Warden? One day? Two? Ah, it will be fun to watch, I have no doubt of that. It reminds me of the plays I attended in Antiva so long ago. If it ends in tragedy, I will be there to pick up your pieces with gentle, loving hands while you smother me in your bosom.”
My lips thin as I point to Alistair’s retreating back.
Zevran throws up his hands. “Fine, fine. Your stubbornness is an endeavor I am determined to overcome. Your rejection only hardens my…resolve, yes?”
I manage to hold myself together long after he is gone but even I am not strong enough to resist the smile that appears at my lips.
Damn, that was good! I don't usually go for first person narratives, but you really grabbed me with that.
Retour en haut
)
:wub:
Redcoat.
