An Urgent Meeting
---------
1. - An Urgent Meeting
A little over a year ago, the only way Alistair would have willingly seated himself in a throne was if it had been a part of some bizarre dream within the fade. Yet here the young King was, dressed in garments fit for royalty as he eyed the large, oaken doors at the end of the room expectantly. The King held an expression of eagerness across his features as he awaited the one-man audience that he had been expecting perhaps a bit impatiently.
It was fall in the lands of Fereldan, the leaves on the trees colorful and drifting as they fell from their perches, only to be carried a short ways in the softly-blowing wind before they finally reached the ground, prepared to resume flight again and begin the process anew. The kingdom and its people seemed to be in high spirits, having finally recovered from the devastation of the Blight only a year prior. There had been trouble near the city of Amaranthine, though the King had been told that the Commander of the Grey in Fereldan had resolved the problem naturally.
Finally, the oaken doors at the far end of the throne room vibrated and creaked until they admitted a familiar dark-haired man dressed heavily in armor on the opposite side. He carried himself like a warrior, and, though he wore no weapons, the symbol upon his chestplate looked to be a reered griffon--the traditional symbol of the Grey Wardens. Alistair stood then, eying him as the corners of his mouth pulled upward in a grin. The dark-haired man shared a smiliar look and he began to walk toward the King. Alistair wasted no time, climbing down the steps from the dais that held the throne to meet him in the center of the room and greet him with a warrior's grip, grasping him by the wrist and pulling him in for a hug only to clap him on the back.
"Alistair," the man said, grinning still.
"Aedan--it's good to see you!" the King exclaimed, chuckling. "And here I thought you were going to keep me waiting for hours, I was beginning to worry."
The man named Aedan released Alistair and grinned sheepishly this time, allowing himself to give the King a light shrug. He looked past his old friend and eyed the still-empty throne beside Alistair's before facing him again. "Still no Queen, I see?" Aedan half-joked.
Alistair shifted on his feet, suddenly going red. "No," he confessed, "it's not really something I'm horribly concerned about, either."
Aedan lifted both brows. "So women aren't important?"
"Hey, hey, I never said that!" Alistair protested, getting a bit defensive. "It's just, well . . . There's not much time for courting women when you're trying to rebuild a kingdom."
Chuckling, Aedan nodded and clapped Alistair on the shoulder. He would need a Queen sooner or later, though the young King was right--it was no time to be worrying about that when he had a destroyed kingdom to tend to. Still, Fereldan was beginning to look healthy again, Alistair having rebuilt it from the Darkspawn threat like his father Maric had with the Orlesians. Aedan dropped the topic and moved on to more pressing matters.
"You're not going to believe the things I've seen, Alistair," Aedan informed, tone suddenly serious and voice a fraction lower than it had been.
Alistair laughed without humor. "Oh, I doubt that," he replied honestly, recalling their war against the Blight. The King thought he'd seen it all--from the living forests of the Dalish elves to the darkened and dead Deep Roads of the dwarves. Aedan's serious look held and Alistair's smile faded, causing him to frown. "Wait. You're serious, aren't you?" Aedan nodded. The King's frown held. "Right, then . . . ," he trailed off, glancing about. He moved back to his throne and the Commander of the Grey followed as the King seated himself, waving for Aedan to continue. "Alright. I'm ready." He took in a deep breath before letting it out. "Let's hear it, then."
Aedan pondered how to begin--what he had seen in Amaranthine. Pacing for a moment as he contemplated his next words, the Commander finally spoke. "We cannot risk another Blight," he finally said, and Alistair looked puzzled, though didn't object. "To be honest, Alistair, I'm not so sure Fereldan can survive another."
"But the next Blight won't occur for centuries--"
"So we assume," Aedan interjected, lifting a hand to cut the King off. To the Commander, Alistair was not a King so much as he was a friend and fellow Grey Warden. "Though who knows how long it will be before the Darkspawn find another one of the Old Gods?" he questioned, referring to the ancient dragons the Darkspawn constantly searched for in the Deep Roads. With each finding of an Old God, the Blight began and the war between man and Darkspawn began anew above the surface and below it. "In order to officially put an end to the Blight, there's only one option."
Alistair's face paled. "You can't be serious?" he asked lamely, though he was certain that Aedan already was. The Commander nodded somberly and Alistair stood from his throne, about ready to burst. "That's . . . insane!" he exclaimed, pausing a moment to find the right word. "How are you supposed to find the Old Gods?" Alistair accused. "Oh, I know! Perhaps you could take your mabari? Maybe he could catch their scent and just lead you to them? That sounds like a good idea, doesn't it?" Aedan kept quiet throughout Alistair's rant before speaking again.
"There's a Warden from Orlais," he explained. "Who's meant to go on his Calling. We know what happens to the Wardens who don't die before their time is due," Aedan told Alistair, not even having to explain. The Wardens partook in an event they accurately called "the Calling" in order to die in the Darkspawn-filled Deep Roads like true warriors. This was expected of every Grey Warden about thirty years after subcumbing to the taint in order to prevent them from changing into Darkspawn themselves. The ones who did not die before their time slowly changed and surrendered themselves to the taint, able to hear the Olds Gods' pleas for freedom, and thus be led to them.
Alistair shook his head furiously. "Fool's errand," he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. "But . . . I suppose I am a fool," the King sighed, giving Aedan a light smile. "I don't like the idea, Aedan, but I'll do whatever I can to help. Now . . . what is it you needed of me, exactly?"
Aedan smiled, pleased by his friend's answer. The Commander wasn't a fool; it took the Darkspawn centuries to find these Old Gods and to free them, though they lacked the resources Aedan had. It would take preperation, time and an amount of luck to pull this off, though the Commander of the Grey was determined. Confidently, Aedan spoke.
"I have a plan."
Modifié par The Gay Warden, 19 janvier 2011 - 12:38 .
Retour en haut
