Premise: My PC is waiting around during the "Dark Ritual" I can't help but wonder what was going through her head while all of that was going on. I know it's a little rambling...but it's supposed to be a look inside her head. I hope you guys like it. It's just a little one shot. Please be nice...this is my first try.
EDIT: I just realized how screwed up the formatting was. Hopefully I just fixed it.
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It was the only way.
The. Only. Way. Nobody understood that better than JulianaCousland, but as she sat alone in a drafty corridor in the Arl of Redcliff's keep, she couldn't help but sigh as she let her head drop back against the
wall.
Morrigan had been waiting in Juliana's room when she'd returned from talking with Riordan. Alistair hadn't wanted to talk then, and truth be told, neither had Juliana. The sense of betrayal she had felt towards the Gray Wardens had been considerable, but Juliana had known those feelings were equal parts hypocrisy and selfish emotion. Duncan hadn't ever pulled punches as far as the usual brevity of a Gray Warden's life was concerned, and after the murder of her parents, Juliana had been so eager to join any cause that might avenge them. Her individual life had seemed so insignificant in the grand scheme of things. That was before.
Now...things weren't simple, not by a long shot. When Riordan had explained what killing the archdemon really meant for the Warden who struck the killing blow, Juliana had thought her heart stopped. A sideways glance at Alistair had shown him looking grim. It wasn't the grimness that had scared her, though, it was the determination. While not necessarily a leader, Juliana had never seen him fail to take responsibility for what he thought was the right action. That terrified her, a million horrifying scenarios playing their way out in her head in the span of time it took Riordan to confirm that yes, indeed the Warden who struck the final blow would perish with the beast. Riordan also said the last blow would be his, as the oldest Gray Warden it was his right and duty. Duncan had also told her and Alistair to avoid heroics in Ostegar. If something went wrong...Juliana still shuddered at the thought, this was the only way.
The blonde’s thoughts drifted back to Morrigan and she squeezed her eyes shut as if maybe when she'd open them all of this terrible night would have been a dream. Blue eyes opened to a blank, grey, stone. It had been real. All of it.
Morrigan was her friend. As unlikely a thing as that had seemed at the beginning of their journey the other woman’s' practicality and dry sense of humor had grown on Juliana. Until now, the only thing that had really stood between them was Morrigan's general and genuine dislike of Alistair. Now? Who knew?
It hadn't really been a surprise to find the other Morrigan in her room, Juliana had simply expected a demand for information on what Riordan had said. Morrigan was like that, and Juliana had figured she felt left out of the conversation. Where the woman had gotten her information on slaying the archdemon and what it entailed, Juliana would never know, but the last thing she'd expected was what Morrigan had requested.
It would have been so easy to decline the offer outright, and Juliana knew Morrigan had seen the words forming on her lips. Her friend had persevered though, and the hand that had been clenched around Juliana's heart since she'd left Riordan's room had started to loosen its hold. Yes, the idea had been hard to wrap her head around, but Morrigan's practical speech had won her over in the end. Morrigan's practical speech and the option to ensure that both she and Alistair walked away from the fight with the archdemon, if it came to that point. It was too much to refuse, at least without talking to him. Alistair had asked her, after that first night in the camp, what they would do now. Juliana had told him that they stayed together now matter what. This had been a chance to prove it. She'd agreed.
In the hallway, Juliana's head jerked at the sound of footsteps, running down the hall, her hand instinctively flying to the hilt of the sword strapped to her back. The owner of the footsteps rounded the corner and Juliana let out her breath, it was two children. The children of servants from the looks of them, chasing one another through the corridors. They skidded to a halt at the sight of her, then crept closer as she relaxed and sank back down on the bench.
In all honesty, the last thing Juliana wanted to do was talk to children, but as the first one, a boy, stared wonderingly at her bucker where it sat next to her on the bench, she couldn't help but crack a small
smile. It was enough.
"Are you one of the Gray Wardens?!" He piped, and Juliana nodded her head, the boy studied her closer, crossing his arms across his chest and looked to his companion, a little girl, then back at Juliana, "But you're pretty. I though....ow!" He yelped as thelittle girl elbowed him in the ribs.
"Of course she's pretty!" She exclaimed, "And haven't you heard? She's a lady! I saw the other wardens too. They're so very handsome, why wouldn't a lady warden be pretty?"
Juliana chuckled and the little boy rubbed his ribs, pulling his eyes from her and back to her buckler. He studied it for a few moments, and then looked back to Juliana, nodding in slight approval, "My da says you're going to kill the archdemonand end the blight. Are you?"
Juliana frowned, it always came back to that, didn't it? Wynne had admonished her once for thinking about putting her personal gains in front of those of the people. Gray Wardens served. "That or die trying." She said, reaching out to ruffle the boy's hair. He reminded her of her nephew.
The two stayed for a moment longer, while Juliana let memories carry her briefly away, then the little girl grabbed her companion's arm, dragging him away with great difficulty while he bemoaned his lack of the bravery to ask if he could heft the shield. Juliana sighed as they went away, living in the past had never gotten anyone anywhere. It was a little odd to still be fully armed when in the middle of the keep like this, but things had moved so quickly after the landsmeet, it hadn't seemed like there was time to change. Alistair had still been fully geared too when Juliana had made her way to the room they'd insisted on giving him despite the fact that it was completely unnecessary. That memory, still fresh surfaced and Juliana sighed again.
It was almost too easy to let petty jealousy rule in the mental recounting of that conversation. Had he agreed to the ritual too quickly? Despite the yelling and the uncertainty, it hadn't really taken much to convince Alistair that this was the only way. Was this something he wanted, or was it simply worth it as much for him as it was for her? Juliana tried to mentally squash the jealous thoughts, but Morrigan's comment that Alistair wouldn't hate it half as much as he thought he would kept rising to the surface and she found her hands clenching in her hair for a moment. It hadn't been a verbal barb, just Morrigan being practical.
Morrigan didn't relate the way that normal people did, she'd been stating what she knew to be probable fact, and Juliana knew it too. There was no prerequisite to sex, or enjoying it. Two people didn't even have to like each other. This whole situation was proof positive to that fact. That didn't mean Juliana had to like it, though. This was the only way to be sure though, she just had to keep reminding herself of that fact and everything would be okay. Wouldn't it? Alistair had emphatically asked her to be sure this was what she wanted, that she'd be able to live with the consequences of these actions. Juliana had agreed, anything. At some point it had stopped being about simply stopping the blight, if such a thing could be called simple. At some point it had become about having something...someone worth living for when it was all over.
The Wardens in Ferelden would be rebuilt. With what Riordan had told them, she and Alistair could do it. It would be a new generation though. Juliana owed Duncan her life, but the way the wardens had been doing things was wrong. How could you hold back information from people the way they had and expect honor and loyalty in return? The wardens wouldn't, not under Juliana's watch, which would be about 30 years if what Alistair said was accurate. That would be time enough. Things would change, hopefully for the better, and Juliana wouldn't have to do it alone. That would have been too much to bear, the blond didn't think about what would happen if Riordan landed the final blow and survived while expecting death. That could be dealt with later, that and one other thing...the child.
Alistair had made Morrigan swear never to use the child against Fereldan, which she'd readily done. Juliana didn't want to dwell on what that meant Morrigan's indented uses for it were. Her friend's practicality had a tendency to overpower her humanity from time to time. Juliana didn't want to think that her friend intended to use the child the way that Flemmeth had used hers, but something in Juliana's mind simply wouldn't let her rule out the possibility. In a way it was sad, so sad. The Cousland line would end with Juliana. Alistair's with that child...if it turned out to be a child at all and not some sort of abomination.
Juliana realized that at some point she'd risen and was walking towards the battlements at the top of the keep. This was good, getting out of that corridor was good.
It was almost strange how quiet it was up there. Then again, quiet was almost always startling to Juliana these days. It was a clear night, in no way reflective of the way Juliana felt, but the stars were calming in their own way. Juliana unsheathed her sword, she'd traded her enchanted blade out for her family sword when they'd gone after Howe and the Cousland crest sparkled on the hit in the moonlight.
"Am I doing the right thing?" she whispered, wishing her mother was there to lend guidance, just this one last time. There was no answer. Only time would tell, and at least for now, that was something Juliana felt she had. The Warden settled into forms, hoping the work would chase the other thoughts from her mind. One form flowed into another, into another and another. Her blade swung and dipped and her feet moved this way and that, countering and attacking demons that nobody else could see. She turned, swinging her sword in a tight arc and she gasped when metal met metal.
Alistair was there. He wasn't in armor, of course, and where he'd gotten the sword, Juliana didn't know, but when she opened her mouth to say something, he simply shook his head and swung the sword. Juliana turned the sweep away easily, they'd sparred before, and before long they'd settled into a comfortable practice rhythm. Slowly, the tension faded and Juliana smiled as she flicked her wrist and sent his blade skidding across the stones at the top of the keep. Maybe, just maybe, everything was going to be okay.
Modifié par Jules8445, 12 janvier 2010 - 02:46 .
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