The Coronation (part 2)
The man saw him at the same moment and his face broke into a wide grin. He quickly stepped forward and gathered Aedan into a tight grasp, ignoring the armour, then took Aedan’s face and kissed his forehead before dropping his hands and stepping back.
“Little brother,” Fergus Cousland said, smiling.
Zevran and Leliana had halted in their approach and watched wide-eyed as Aedan stepped forward to grasp the stranger again, pulling him into another hug. “Fergus, I…” He had no words.
Then both men were grinning broadly at one another, standing with their arms clasped. Fergus spoke, “When I heard that not only was my little brother a Grey Warden, but leading Ferelden against the arch demon, I could scarcely believe it. Yet here you are.” His expression darkened, “I thought you had died at the castle…”
Aeden shook his head dumbly, still lost for words. He finally found his tongue and said, “I’m so sorry about Oriana and Oren.”
The two men dropped their arms and stood quietly facing each other a moment, each reliving the pain of loss. Aedan looked up and said quietly, “I killed Howe, you know, he paid the price of his crimes.”
He saw Fergus face harden in acknowledgement and felt relief that his brother did not judge him, only said, “I wish I could have been there to see him die.”
They nodded to one another, and Aedan asked, “What happened to you at Ostagar? I feared you dead – we looked,” he shook his head as he remembered the horrors of the battlefield and the daunting Korcari Wilds.
Fergus replied, “It’s alright, little brother, I know you had more…pressing issues. I have always been able to look after myself, eh?”
They shared a smile, and Fergus, looking over Aedan’s shoulder noticed Leliana and Zevran waiting and gestured to him, “I think someone wishes to speak with you. We can catch up later…I will be returning to Highever tomorrow. There is much to be done. Will I see you before I leave?”
“Count on it,” Aedan said, grasping Fergus shoulder one last time as his brother moved off. He turned and found Leliana and Zevran standing behind them. He grinned widely and said somewhat simply, “That was Fergus, my brother.”
He had no more words at that moment, he was so filled with conflicting emotions. The two companions understood, perhaps better than most would, and allowed him the time he needed to compose himself.
Just then there was a stir in the entrance chamber, and the crowded nobles stirred and moved aside as a messenger hurried through. He scanned the room, found Aedan, recognizable in his distinctive armour and hurried forward. “A message for the king, my lord,” he said, “The Orlesian Wardens have arrived.”
FanFiction - The Hero of Ferelden (Complete Story)
Débuté par
Sisimka
, janv. 20 2010 05:57
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#52
Posté 27 janvier 2010 - 06:41
Freckles04
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Awww...I'd forgotten that he hadn't seen Fergus yet. Nice reunion. 
#53
Posté 27 janvier 2010 - 07:47
AdorableAnarchist
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Nicely done! I love the reunion with Fergus.
#54
Posté 28 janvier 2010 - 12:03
Sisimka
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Got another chapter done today, so here it is! Again thanks for the comments and I appreciate all the folks taking time to catch up with my story.
__________________________________________________________________________________
The Orlesian Wardens
Aedan thanked the messenger and turned to find Alistair. The king had not gone far and looked up from discussion with Arl Eammon at Aedan’s approach, one eyebrow raised as if to mock the gathering and question Aedan at the same time. He looked at that moment so much like the young grey warden that Aedan nearly laughed. Instead, he tapped the Arl of Redcliffe on the shoulder, murmuring “Excuse me, Eammon,” and faced Alistair. “I just received word, the Grey Wardens of Orlais have just arrived.”
“What wonderful timing they have,” Alistair commented drily, then excusing himself as well, stepped to Aedan’s side and said, “Let’s get this over with, shall we?”
Messengers were dispatched to prepare one of the palace sitting rooms for their meeting and inquire if the Wardens had secured accommodations while Alistair and Aedan walked toward the entrance chamber. They paused before the doors and Alistair turned to Aedan saying, “Our first official visitors, I’m a bit nervous, aren’t you?”
Nervous was an understatement, Aedan knew the question that was most likely to be asked and though he and Alistair had discussed his ‘lack of death’, they’d not been able to come up with an excuse better than ‘dumb luck’. He thought back to the second day he’d been awake after having lain immobile for nearly two weeks, or so he’d been told. Alistair had come to visit him early that morning, sending everyone, even a protesting Wynne away citing ‘Grey Warden’ business and had carefully shut and locked the door behind her.
He had returned to Aedan’s side, sat down in the chair next to the bed and first asked after his health. After ascertaining his friend’s well-being, Alistair had surprised him by immediately getting to the heart of the matter, “You should have died atop that tower, my friend, don’t get me wrong, I’m so very glad you are alive, but against all reason you did not die with the arch demon.”
Aedan had nodded slowly, his head still reeling from the awful dreams he had suffered while being unconscious for two weeks, his body still weak from the healing – though a mage expended their own energy healing encouraging a person’s wounds to mend, it was up to that person’s body to provide the energy required to re-knit bones and tissue or in his case, re-grow substantial amounts of skin. Wynne had speculated this was why he’d been out for so long.
Alistair continued, “I’ve speculated upon every possibility while you recovered, ranging from the bizarre to the ridiculous and I’ve come up with two answers.” He held up a finger, “One, Riordan was wrong,” he held up a second finger, “Two, Wynne is a more talented healer than we could possibly have believed.”
Aedan had not spoken beyond confirming his health and he held his tongue now, waiting to see if Alistair would go on. He did. The king held up a third finger and looked Aedan directly in the eye, “There is a third possibility,” he paused, “What was Morrigan doing in your room that last night at Castle Redcliffe?”
Aedan closed his eyes and sighed quietly, then looked over at Alistair and said, “And you wonder why I never believed you were stupid.”
Alistair looked horrified for a moment, then recovered, whispering hoarsely, “Aedan, what have you done?”
Aedan’s voice broke as he started his confession. He’d been able to keep this from Leliana the night before, but he’d known deep down that he couldn’t keep it from Alistair. “She offered me, us, a way out. Alistair I had to do it, otherwise you could have died!”
Alistair repeated himself, a little louder this time, “Aedan…what have you done?”
Aedan swallowed against a suddenly dry throat and reached for the water beside the bed. He took a long swallow, handing the cup back to Alistair when he was done, then started to speak.
“She spoke of a ritual, performed on the night before battle. I had to,” he hesitated here, looking away from Alistair’s face in embarrassment, “I had to lay with her.”
Alistair burst out laughing, “You what? She told you that? Aedan, I’m supposed to be the idiot here, you actually fell for a line like that?”
Aedan looked angrily at Alistair and said quietly, “Stop laughing, it wasn’t a line, she knew I would never betray Leliana…” his voice dropped, “But I did, didn’t I?”
“There’s more to this, isn’t there?” Alistair asked.
Aedan went on to explain about the child that was supposed to be conceived that night. As the tale unfolded Alistair fell silent, his expression turning grave. Aedan told him about the soul of the old god, about his promise not to follow Morrigan, he even told him about the odd dream he’d had just after he had…died, but not died, delivering the final blow to the arch demon.
Alistair dropped his head into his hands and said once more, “Oh Aedan, what have you done?”
Aedan responded immediately with, “I did it for you, Alistair, and I don’t expect to be thanked or anything like that, but when faced with the possibility of your death, after all we’d done to unite Ferelden, make you king, if something…if anything could possibly prevent that, well then it was a risk I was prepared to take.”
Alistair surprised him then by replying, “I know, Aedan, I know…and I understand.”
Aedan stammered, “You do?”
Alistair nodded, “I hate the idea of Morrigan gaining something out of this, but if I was to be completely honest…” he looked up at Aedan, meeting his eyes, “I think I’d make the same choice.”
They were silent a moment, then Alistair said, “You haven’t told Leliana, have you?”
Aedan swore under his breath and replied, “I tried to, last night, I made a mess of it and ended up not telling her at all. I told myself it was a Grey Warden secret, but Alistair, this will be my child…I don’t know if I can keep my promise to Morrigan.”
Alistair nodded, considering, then said, “I’m going to leave that one up to you, my friend. You know how little experience I have with affairs of the heart, but if I were you, I’d choose my words very carefully.”
Aedan accepted this advice, “Thank you.” He hesitated, then said again, “Thank you for understanding.”
Alistair had leaned back in his chair and put his finger tips together, looking down a moment, thinking, then looked up, asking the question they both knew came next.
“What are we going to tell the Orlesian Wardens?”
+++++
The Orlesian Wardens were gathered in the centre of the entrance chamber, five men all dressed in armour not unlike Aedan’s own. Their leader, a tall thin man with ash blonde hair and pale blue eyes in a finely chiseled face crossed his arms over his chest and bent slightly at the waist, bowing to Alistair.
Alistair formally welcomed the Wardens as Brothers and introduced Aedan. The leader introduced the four men behind him, then himself, “I am Damien Fournier, Warden Commander of Orlais.” The Orlesian looked from Alistair to Aedan and said, “Which of you is Warden Commander of Ferelden?”
Alistair and Aedan each pointed to the other and said, “He is.”
__________________________________________________________________________________
The Orlesian Wardens
Aedan thanked the messenger and turned to find Alistair. The king had not gone far and looked up from discussion with Arl Eammon at Aedan’s approach, one eyebrow raised as if to mock the gathering and question Aedan at the same time. He looked at that moment so much like the young grey warden that Aedan nearly laughed. Instead, he tapped the Arl of Redcliffe on the shoulder, murmuring “Excuse me, Eammon,” and faced Alistair. “I just received word, the Grey Wardens of Orlais have just arrived.”
“What wonderful timing they have,” Alistair commented drily, then excusing himself as well, stepped to Aedan’s side and said, “Let’s get this over with, shall we?”
Messengers were dispatched to prepare one of the palace sitting rooms for their meeting and inquire if the Wardens had secured accommodations while Alistair and Aedan walked toward the entrance chamber. They paused before the doors and Alistair turned to Aedan saying, “Our first official visitors, I’m a bit nervous, aren’t you?”
Nervous was an understatement, Aedan knew the question that was most likely to be asked and though he and Alistair had discussed his ‘lack of death’, they’d not been able to come up with an excuse better than ‘dumb luck’. He thought back to the second day he’d been awake after having lain immobile for nearly two weeks, or so he’d been told. Alistair had come to visit him early that morning, sending everyone, even a protesting Wynne away citing ‘Grey Warden’ business and had carefully shut and locked the door behind her.
He had returned to Aedan’s side, sat down in the chair next to the bed and first asked after his health. After ascertaining his friend’s well-being, Alistair had surprised him by immediately getting to the heart of the matter, “You should have died atop that tower, my friend, don’t get me wrong, I’m so very glad you are alive, but against all reason you did not die with the arch demon.”
Aedan had nodded slowly, his head still reeling from the awful dreams he had suffered while being unconscious for two weeks, his body still weak from the healing – though a mage expended their own energy healing encouraging a person’s wounds to mend, it was up to that person’s body to provide the energy required to re-knit bones and tissue or in his case, re-grow substantial amounts of skin. Wynne had speculated this was why he’d been out for so long.
Alistair continued, “I’ve speculated upon every possibility while you recovered, ranging from the bizarre to the ridiculous and I’ve come up with two answers.” He held up a finger, “One, Riordan was wrong,” he held up a second finger, “Two, Wynne is a more talented healer than we could possibly have believed.”
Aedan had not spoken beyond confirming his health and he held his tongue now, waiting to see if Alistair would go on. He did. The king held up a third finger and looked Aedan directly in the eye, “There is a third possibility,” he paused, “What was Morrigan doing in your room that last night at Castle Redcliffe?”
Aedan closed his eyes and sighed quietly, then looked over at Alistair and said, “And you wonder why I never believed you were stupid.”
Alistair looked horrified for a moment, then recovered, whispering hoarsely, “Aedan, what have you done?”
Aedan’s voice broke as he started his confession. He’d been able to keep this from Leliana the night before, but he’d known deep down that he couldn’t keep it from Alistair. “She offered me, us, a way out. Alistair I had to do it, otherwise you could have died!”
Alistair repeated himself, a little louder this time, “Aedan…what have you done?”
Aedan swallowed against a suddenly dry throat and reached for the water beside the bed. He took a long swallow, handing the cup back to Alistair when he was done, then started to speak.
“She spoke of a ritual, performed on the night before battle. I had to,” he hesitated here, looking away from Alistair’s face in embarrassment, “I had to lay with her.”
Alistair burst out laughing, “You what? She told you that? Aedan, I’m supposed to be the idiot here, you actually fell for a line like that?”
Aedan looked angrily at Alistair and said quietly, “Stop laughing, it wasn’t a line, she knew I would never betray Leliana…” his voice dropped, “But I did, didn’t I?”
“There’s more to this, isn’t there?” Alistair asked.
Aedan went on to explain about the child that was supposed to be conceived that night. As the tale unfolded Alistair fell silent, his expression turning grave. Aedan told him about the soul of the old god, about his promise not to follow Morrigan, he even told him about the odd dream he’d had just after he had…died, but not died, delivering the final blow to the arch demon.
Alistair dropped his head into his hands and said once more, “Oh Aedan, what have you done?”
Aedan responded immediately with, “I did it for you, Alistair, and I don’t expect to be thanked or anything like that, but when faced with the possibility of your death, after all we’d done to unite Ferelden, make you king, if something…if anything could possibly prevent that, well then it was a risk I was prepared to take.”
Alistair surprised him then by replying, “I know, Aedan, I know…and I understand.”
Aedan stammered, “You do?”
Alistair nodded, “I hate the idea of Morrigan gaining something out of this, but if I was to be completely honest…” he looked up at Aedan, meeting his eyes, “I think I’d make the same choice.”
They were silent a moment, then Alistair said, “You haven’t told Leliana, have you?”
Aedan swore under his breath and replied, “I tried to, last night, I made a mess of it and ended up not telling her at all. I told myself it was a Grey Warden secret, but Alistair, this will be my child…I don’t know if I can keep my promise to Morrigan.”
Alistair nodded, considering, then said, “I’m going to leave that one up to you, my friend. You know how little experience I have with affairs of the heart, but if I were you, I’d choose my words very carefully.”
Aedan accepted this advice, “Thank you.” He hesitated, then said again, “Thank you for understanding.”
Alistair had leaned back in his chair and put his finger tips together, looking down a moment, thinking, then looked up, asking the question they both knew came next.
“What are we going to tell the Orlesian Wardens?”
+++++
The Orlesian Wardens were gathered in the centre of the entrance chamber, five men all dressed in armour not unlike Aedan’s own. Their leader, a tall thin man with ash blonde hair and pale blue eyes in a finely chiseled face crossed his arms over his chest and bent slightly at the waist, bowing to Alistair.
Alistair formally welcomed the Wardens as Brothers and introduced Aedan. The leader introduced the four men behind him, then himself, “I am Damien Fournier, Warden Commander of Orlais.” The Orlesian looked from Alistair to Aedan and said, “Which of you is Warden Commander of Ferelden?”
Alistair and Aedan each pointed to the other and said, “He is.”
Modifié par Sisimka, 02 mars 2010 - 10:19 .
#55
Posté 28 janvier 2010 - 12:48
Kulkodar
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Oooh this is good! Such talented authors on these boards. Keep it coming please
#56
Posté 28 janvier 2010 - 01:01
Sisimka
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Thanks so much Kulkodar! I'm working on another chapter for tomorrow.
#58
Posté 28 janvier 2010 - 01:51
AdorableAnarchist
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BUwahahahaaa! Love the ending!!!
#59
Posté 28 janvier 2010 - 02:07
Freckles04
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Yep, love the ending. I can so picture that....
#60
Posté 28 janvier 2010 - 02:12
Sisimka
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Thanks folks! Yeah the ending just kinda popped out and I thought, yeah, that's cute, I like that.
#62
Posté 28 janvier 2010 - 04:27
Sisimka
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Grey Warden Business
“Well, we’re off to an auspicious start!” Alistair quipped as he and Aedan followed a palace servant to the sitting room that had been prepared for their meeting with the Orlesians .
Aedan rolled his eyes and made for a chair, sinking into it gratefully. He watched as Alistair sat in a chair opposite, leaving the rather ornate chair at the centre of the grouping empty. He flicked his glance at the larger chair and said to Alistair, “You’re supposed to be sitting there, you know.”
“Oh, no, I’m not sitting in the big chair, I’m already King, that’s enough leading…”
Aedan laughed, “It’s the Kings’ Chair!”
Alistair uttered a quiet, “Oh” and resettled himself in the larger chair.
He turned to face Aedan, a familiar expression on his face. Aedan immediately put up his hands, waving them in front of his face and started in, “No, Alistair, no. You’ve already made me chancellor, you can’t make me Warden Commander too.”
Alistair surprised him by laughing quietly, dipping his head, then looking up again before replying, “We really should have discussed this, you know.”
“Well we were a bit more concerned with how to explain my ‘lack of death’ if I recall.”
Alistair sobered, “Yes.”
Aedan said thoughtfully, “I wish Sten were still here, he’d be a formidable Warden Commander.”
Alistair replied, “Hm, I wonder if Oghren…”
Aedan said quickly, “You really think you could convince Oghren to drink a vial of darkspawn blood…”
Alistair sighed, “You’re probably right.”
There was a few moments of silence as each man considered their limited options.
Aedan threw up his hands again, “Alright, I’ll do it, anything to get out of those endless meetings and advisory sessions.”
Aedan relaxed back into his chair as he smiled and chuckled at his friend, adding, “Did you ever stop to think about the why, or the how of all this? How two men younger than anyone else in that Landsmeet chamber ended up running an entire country? Do you think we scare the nobles?”
Alistair’s own smile widened as he answered all his questions at once, “All the time, Aedan, all the time.”
There was a perfunctory knock at the door and a guard popped his head through, announcing the Orlesian Wardens, before opening the door wide.
Aedan and Alistair both stood, bowing their heads in greeting as Damien Fournier led the other four wardens into the room. The Orlesian commander took the chair previously occupied by Alistair, across from Aedan and to the left of the Kings’ chair. The other four sat down, completing the circle and two servants entered, bearing trays of refreshments.
Once everyone had had the opportunity to obtain a drink and something to eat, the men mostly exchanged pleasantries. The Orlesian wardens talked about their journey, and Aedan and Alistair provided commentary on the rebuilding of Denerim. After a short time Damien Fournier set down his cup and cleared with throat with authority.
Alistair managed a brief wink in Aedan’s direction and Aedan swallowed a chuckle. Apparently the ‘meeting’ had begun.
Damien Fournier sat back in his chair and held a hand out to the warden at his left. The warden quickly placed a pile of letters and envelopes in the commander’s hand and Fournier sorted through them before looking up at Alistair.
“So, has it been decided which of you will lead the Ferelden Grey Wardens?”
Aedan held his hand up, feeling suddenly like a school boy once more, “That would be me, ah, Ser.”
Fournier waved a hand and said, “Please, let us be not so formal, we are all brothers here, are we not?” He turned his gaze about the room, the accompanying smile just short of warm.
The commander turned back to Aedan, his eyes narrowing slightly as he said, “Aedan Cousland, the ‘Hero of Ferelden’, the only Grey Warden to slay an arch demon and live to tell the tale. But we will get back to that.”
Aedan tried not to slump with relief.
The commander glanced at the papers again before turning to Alistair, “We received many reports and letters regarding the Blight in Ferelden. I understand you had Riordan’s body sent to his family in Highever?”
Alistair nodded, “Yes, according to his wishes. Although I expressed my condolences in my own letter, let me repeat that Riordan’s contribution to ending the Blight will be remembered and honoured here in Ferelden. He was a good man.”
Fournier nodded, “Yes, he was. His own report, however, is…disturbing.”
Aedan exchanged a worried glance with Alistair and asked the Orlesian commander, “disturbing in what way?”
Fournier continued, “I understand that over the course of the year between Ostagar and the final battle, you did not manage to recruit any new Grey Wardens.”
Alistair spoke up immediately, “We had no details of the ritual until we rescued Riordan from Howe’s dungeons, and even then,” he scowled, “Loghain had removed Ferelden’s supply of arch demon blood.”
Fournier went on, ignoring Alistair, “and yet you secured many interesting traveling companions.” He shuffled the papers, “A ‘witch of the wilds’, a lay sister of the Chantry,” his eyes rose as he added, “whose real identity is known to us, by the way.” He continued, “A Qunari, a Circle Mage, an Antivan assassin, a dwarf and,” again hesitation as he looked up, “a golem?”
Aedan put in quietly, “Wardens have always taken what allies they could.”
Fournier nodded, “Indeed.” He continued, “May I ask where all your companions are now?”
Aedan ran down the list, “Zevran, the Antivan, is here in Denerim, as is…Leliana. Wynne, the circle mage has undertaken a quest on behalf of Shale, the golem. Sten, the Qunari, returned to his people. Oghren is commander of king's armies.”
The Orlesian Commander raised a brow, “and the witch?”
Aedan swallowed, “Morrigan… she disappeared after the final battle.”
“I see.”
Aedan felt a creeping down his spine and wondered just how much Fournier thought he ‘saw’.
Alistair spoke up then, leaning forward in his chair, speaking more as a King than a Warden “Is there a point to this?”
Fournier glanced at Alistair and seemed to remember the man was indeed a king and nodded, before addressing his reply to Aedan, “Can we safely assume that none of these companions obtained knowledge of the Grey Wardens beyond the necessity of defeating the Blight?”
Aedan blinked. He suddenly missed Duncan acutely. The Ferelden Warden Commander had been crisp and business-like when required, but there had been an underlying warmth to the man. He missed Riordan. Though he’d known the Orlesian warden for only a short time, he’d come to respect him greatly. Riordan had represented everything he thought the Grey Wardens stood for. This Fournier was… a pompous ass. Not letting his gaze waver, he allowed the lie to pass his lips. “No.”
Fournier nodded and replied, “I will take your word at that Commander...for now.”
The Orlesian shuffled his papers again. He glanced at Alistair. “I understand you have designated lands known as the arling of Amaranthine as the new Grey Warden headquarters.”
It was Alistair’s turn to blink. He answered, “The official announcement was just made today, yes.”
Fournier put the letters aside finally and looked up again. “When will Commander Cousland be leaving for Amaranthine?”
Aedan exchanged another glance with Alistair before replying to the Orlesian, “As soon as I am able, Commander Fournier.”
Fournier nodded and gestured to the two Orlesian wardens sitting beside Aedan. “These two Wardens will accompany you.”
Before Aedan or Alistair could react to that pronouncement, Fournier continued, “Now, onto the slaying of this arch demon,” he paused here and looked at Aedan directly, “How is it that you are still alive?”
Aedan shrugged and tried, “I’m lucky?”
“Well, we’re off to an auspicious start!” Alistair quipped as he and Aedan followed a palace servant to the sitting room that had been prepared for their meeting with the Orlesians .
Aedan rolled his eyes and made for a chair, sinking into it gratefully. He watched as Alistair sat in a chair opposite, leaving the rather ornate chair at the centre of the grouping empty. He flicked his glance at the larger chair and said to Alistair, “You’re supposed to be sitting there, you know.”
“Oh, no, I’m not sitting in the big chair, I’m already King, that’s enough leading…”
Aedan laughed, “It’s the Kings’ Chair!”
Alistair uttered a quiet, “Oh” and resettled himself in the larger chair.
He turned to face Aedan, a familiar expression on his face. Aedan immediately put up his hands, waving them in front of his face and started in, “No, Alistair, no. You’ve already made me chancellor, you can’t make me Warden Commander too.”
Alistair surprised him by laughing quietly, dipping his head, then looking up again before replying, “We really should have discussed this, you know.”
“Well we were a bit more concerned with how to explain my ‘lack of death’ if I recall.”
Alistair sobered, “Yes.”
Aedan said thoughtfully, “I wish Sten were still here, he’d be a formidable Warden Commander.”
Alistair replied, “Hm, I wonder if Oghren…”
Aedan said quickly, “You really think you could convince Oghren to drink a vial of darkspawn blood…”
Alistair sighed, “You’re probably right.”
There was a few moments of silence as each man considered their limited options.
Aedan threw up his hands again, “Alright, I’ll do it, anything to get out of those endless meetings and advisory sessions.”
Aedan relaxed back into his chair as he smiled and chuckled at his friend, adding, “Did you ever stop to think about the why, or the how of all this? How two men younger than anyone else in that Landsmeet chamber ended up running an entire country? Do you think we scare the nobles?”
Alistair’s own smile widened as he answered all his questions at once, “All the time, Aedan, all the time.”
There was a perfunctory knock at the door and a guard popped his head through, announcing the Orlesian Wardens, before opening the door wide.
Aedan and Alistair both stood, bowing their heads in greeting as Damien Fournier led the other four wardens into the room. The Orlesian commander took the chair previously occupied by Alistair, across from Aedan and to the left of the Kings’ chair. The other four sat down, completing the circle and two servants entered, bearing trays of refreshments.
Once everyone had had the opportunity to obtain a drink and something to eat, the men mostly exchanged pleasantries. The Orlesian wardens talked about their journey, and Aedan and Alistair provided commentary on the rebuilding of Denerim. After a short time Damien Fournier set down his cup and cleared with throat with authority.
Alistair managed a brief wink in Aedan’s direction and Aedan swallowed a chuckle. Apparently the ‘meeting’ had begun.
Damien Fournier sat back in his chair and held a hand out to the warden at his left. The warden quickly placed a pile of letters and envelopes in the commander’s hand and Fournier sorted through them before looking up at Alistair.
“So, has it been decided which of you will lead the Ferelden Grey Wardens?”
Aedan held his hand up, feeling suddenly like a school boy once more, “That would be me, ah, Ser.”
Fournier waved a hand and said, “Please, let us be not so formal, we are all brothers here, are we not?” He turned his gaze about the room, the accompanying smile just short of warm.
The commander turned back to Aedan, his eyes narrowing slightly as he said, “Aedan Cousland, the ‘Hero of Ferelden’, the only Grey Warden to slay an arch demon and live to tell the tale. But we will get back to that.”
Aedan tried not to slump with relief.
The commander glanced at the papers again before turning to Alistair, “We received many reports and letters regarding the Blight in Ferelden. I understand you had Riordan’s body sent to his family in Highever?”
Alistair nodded, “Yes, according to his wishes. Although I expressed my condolences in my own letter, let me repeat that Riordan’s contribution to ending the Blight will be remembered and honoured here in Ferelden. He was a good man.”
Fournier nodded, “Yes, he was. His own report, however, is…disturbing.”
Aedan exchanged a worried glance with Alistair and asked the Orlesian commander, “disturbing in what way?”
Fournier continued, “I understand that over the course of the year between Ostagar and the final battle, you did not manage to recruit any new Grey Wardens.”
Alistair spoke up immediately, “We had no details of the ritual until we rescued Riordan from Howe’s dungeons, and even then,” he scowled, “Loghain had removed Ferelden’s supply of arch demon blood.”
Fournier went on, ignoring Alistair, “and yet you secured many interesting traveling companions.” He shuffled the papers, “A ‘witch of the wilds’, a lay sister of the Chantry,” his eyes rose as he added, “whose real identity is known to us, by the way.” He continued, “A Qunari, a Circle Mage, an Antivan assassin, a dwarf and,” again hesitation as he looked up, “a golem?”
Aedan put in quietly, “Wardens have always taken what allies they could.”
Fournier nodded, “Indeed.” He continued, “May I ask where all your companions are now?”
Aedan ran down the list, “Zevran, the Antivan, is here in Denerim, as is…Leliana. Wynne, the circle mage has undertaken a quest on behalf of Shale, the golem. Sten, the Qunari, returned to his people. Oghren is commander of king's armies.”
The Orlesian Commander raised a brow, “and the witch?”
Aedan swallowed, “Morrigan… she disappeared after the final battle.”
“I see.”
Aedan felt a creeping down his spine and wondered just how much Fournier thought he ‘saw’.
Alistair spoke up then, leaning forward in his chair, speaking more as a King than a Warden “Is there a point to this?”
Fournier glanced at Alistair and seemed to remember the man was indeed a king and nodded, before addressing his reply to Aedan, “Can we safely assume that none of these companions obtained knowledge of the Grey Wardens beyond the necessity of defeating the Blight?”
Aedan blinked. He suddenly missed Duncan acutely. The Ferelden Warden Commander had been crisp and business-like when required, but there had been an underlying warmth to the man. He missed Riordan. Though he’d known the Orlesian warden for only a short time, he’d come to respect him greatly. Riordan had represented everything he thought the Grey Wardens stood for. This Fournier was… a pompous ass. Not letting his gaze waver, he allowed the lie to pass his lips. “No.”
Fournier nodded and replied, “I will take your word at that Commander...for now.”
The Orlesian shuffled his papers again. He glanced at Alistair. “I understand you have designated lands known as the arling of Amaranthine as the new Grey Warden headquarters.”
It was Alistair’s turn to blink. He answered, “The official announcement was just made today, yes.”
Fournier put the letters aside finally and looked up again. “When will Commander Cousland be leaving for Amaranthine?”
Aedan exchanged another glance with Alistair before replying to the Orlesian, “As soon as I am able, Commander Fournier.”
Fournier nodded and gestured to the two Orlesian wardens sitting beside Aedan. “These two Wardens will accompany you.”
Before Aedan or Alistair could react to that pronouncement, Fournier continued, “Now, onto the slaying of this arch demon,” he paused here and looked at Aedan directly, “How is it that you are still alive?”
Aedan shrugged and tried, “I’m lucky?”
Modifié par Sisimka, 28 janvier 2010 - 09:11 .
#63
Posté 28 janvier 2010 - 04:34
Sialater
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Oooh, what pompous jerk! (The Orlesian guy, I mean.)
Modifié par Sialater, 28 janvier 2010 - 04:34 .
#64
Posté 28 janvier 2010 - 04:38
Sisimka
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lol, I knew who you meant! I was kinda dreading writing this chapter, even though I kinda figured it was essential to my story. I hope it came out okay.
#65
Posté 28 janvier 2010 - 04:43
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Just think of the Anderfels. An organization whose motto is victory at all costs that runs a country isn't, by its very nature, a group of white hats. I doubt the Orlesians would be much better.
#66
Posté 28 janvier 2010 - 05:13
bl00dsh0t
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Cliffhanger after cliffhanger, damn youuu xD Well written, may the me2 addiction not let us wait too long 
#67
Posté 28 janvier 2010 - 05:18
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Sorry about the 'cliffhanger' it's not really meant to be so, just that they really don't have an explanation, or not one that the Orlesians are going to like. They are pretty much not going to say anthing. The subject may be revisited once they get to Amaranthine.
#68
Posté 28 janvier 2010 - 05:54
Freckles04
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Hehe. I guess Aedan can shrug and look stupid just as well as Alistair can.
Nice section. More please!
Nice section. More please!
#69
Posté 28 janvier 2010 - 05:58
Sialater
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That line still makes me giggle, though. Who's the Warden Commander? He is!
#70
Posté 28 janvier 2010 - 07:17
Sisimka
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Sialater wrote...
That line still makes me giggle, though. Who's the Warden Commander? He is!
Thanks, I have to admit, it was irresistable.
@Freckles - I was tempted to have Alistair do the shrugging, but he didn't do the killing, so poor Aedan has to do it. I don't think it's so out of character for him though - I'm thinking that he's thinking he's protecting Ferelden's interests by staying quiet - or perhaps his own. Kind of a lot at stake here.
#71
Posté 28 janvier 2010 - 07:20
Freckles04
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And really...how do you explain the situation to someone who wasn't around, who doesn't really understand what the stakes were? I mean, yes, the Orlesians know the Blight had to be stopped, but they don't have the connection to Ferelden and Alistair that would let them truly understand why Aedan did what he did. Likely they'd see it only as a means to for Aedan himself to avoid dying (a cowardly act), and not as a means to prevent Alistair from dying and Ferelden from falling back into civil war.
#72
Posté 28 janvier 2010 - 07:22
Sisimka
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Freckles04 wrote...
And really...how do you explain the situation to someone who wasn't around, who doesn't really understand what the stakes were? I mean, yes, the Orlesians know the Blight had to be stopped, but they don't have the connection to Ferelden and Alistair that would let them truly understand why Aedan did what he did. Likely they'd see it only as a means to for Aedan himself to avoid dying (a cowardly act), and not as a means to prevent Alistair from dying and Ferelden from falling back into civil war.
Exactly! I think Aedan's motivations are clear enough to the reader, they don't need to be spelled out to the Orlesians, right?
#74
Posté 28 janvier 2010 - 07:42
AdorableAnarchist
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Oh, this is priceless! I chuckled several times out loud. "I'm lucky?" Awesome! Keep going!!!
#75
Posté 29 janvier 2010 - 02:41
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The Crow
Alistair looked up at a knock on the door. He smiled a warm welcome as the Antivan assassin stepped into his study.
“Zevran, it’s good to see you.”
“Likewise, Your Majesty,” the elf bowed with a flourish, a mischievous glint in his eye.
Alistair laughed and held up his hands, “Please, enough with the formality…”
“As you say…” Zevran stopped before Alistair’s desk, adopting a light, easy stance Alistair knew from experience. The assassin was ever poised to strike and though he had come to respect Zevran, he was never truly at ease around him.
Zevran continued, “To what do I owe the honour of this invitation to visit the King of Ferelden?”
“I have a job for you Zev.” Alistair replied with a smile.
Zevran rubbed his hands together, breaking into a wide grin. “Ah, and who is it you need disposed of?”
Alistair’s face assumed a shocked expression. “What? No...I don’t need anybody killed,” he thought over the task he was about to give the elf and added under his breath, “Yet.”
“Just say the word, my friend, I am your man!” Zevran responded enthusiastically. He continued, “So what is it to be, hm? Perhaps you would like me to investigate these prospective brides of yours?”
Alistair gaped at him.
Zevran went on, “I assure you, my methods would be most cunning.”
The king looked totally blank for a moment before he shook his head and said, “Prospective brides?”
Zevran raised his brows, “Surely you know that your former regent has been ah…vetting young women, young noble women,” the assassin’s expression turned vaguely lecherous, “one or two of them are even quite…arresting.” He winked at Alistair, obviously enjoying his discomfort.
Alistair covered his face with his hands, muttering under his breath, “By Andraste’s flaming sword.”
Zevran waited for the king to recover, bouncing on his toes, his hands clasped loosely behind him.
Alistair sighed, dropped his hands and commented, “Seems I need to issue yet another royal invitation today.”
Zevran raised his brows, but said nothing.
Alistair cleared his throat and said, “Zev, how do you know these things?”
The elf merely shrugged, “It is what I do. Now, you invited me to your study to discuss a job, yes?”
“Right.” Alistair dragged his thoughts back to the task at hand. “Aedan is leaving for Amaranthine in the morning. I’d like you to go with him, make use of those unique talents of yours.”
“Your wish is my command,” Zevran tendered another theatric bow. As he straightened he caught something in Alistair’s expression. He raised a brow.
“Watch his back, Zevran, I don’t trust those Orlesian Wardens.”
The assassins daggers suddenly appeared in his hands, the crossed them in front himself and nodded his head to Alistair, “No harm shall come to the Warden Commander while I am around,” he said softly.
Alistair shivered.
Daggers sheathed, Zevran inquired, “If there is nothing else?”
“No, and Zev, thank you.”
Zevran nodded and slipped quietly from the room.
Alistair followed him to the door, but as he looked through to catch the attention of the attendant guard, he noticed the elf had already disappeared into the shadows. He summoned the guard. “Send word to Arl Eamon that I would see him at his earliest convenience, please.”
He returned to his study and had barely sat down before there was another knock at his door. Aedan poked his head through and Alistair beckoned him into the room. It was hard to keep the sad expression from his face, he was going to miss his friend and advisor over the course of the next few weeks. Aedan appeared equally somber as he stepped past the desk, coming to stand before him.
“I’ll be leaving with the dawn tomorrow, so I came to see if you had any last minute advice.”
Alistair smiled, “You are the advisor Aedan, not me.”
Aedan grinned. “Eamon is still in Denerim, you won’t lack for advice while I am gone.”
Alistair groaned and Aedan raised a brow, “Something wrong?”
“Apparently Eamon’s advice will be about who I shall marry.”
Aedan chuckled, “So you heard?”
Alistair looked hurt, “You knew about this?”
“I’d thought it was little more than gossip until Leliana told me yesterday. Her sources tend to be more reliable than idle chatter between cooks and maids. I would have mentioned it to you, but the coronation, the meeting with the Orlesians,” Aedan sighed, “It slipped my mind.”
“Understandable.” Alistair provided. He looked at his friend, “I wish I was coming to Amaranthine. I sort of miss the traveling and the camping, the excitement of the road.”
Aedan grinned, “Do you miss my cooking?”
Alistair shook his head vehemently, “No, that I do not miss. I’m pretty sure that without Wynne, we might all have perished well before the final battle.”
Aedan laughed.
Alistair placed a hand on Aedan’s arm. “Be careful Brother, I can’t help but feel the Orlesian wardens plan to do more than merely observe. I have neither Zevran nor Leliana’s talent for reading people, or seeking hidden agendas, but…the meeting yesterday, it ended rather oddly, don’t you think?”
“You mean the fact that they didn’t seem to question my ‘divine’ luck?” Aedan asked.
“There’s that,” Alistair nodded, “Also, the look Fournier gave the two wardens he is sending with you, it was just so…chilly.”
Aedan nodded. “There is no doubt in my mind that the matter is far from resolved. I’ll be careful.” He grasped Alistair’s arm in return. “I’ll see you in a few weeks then?”
Aedan stepped back around the desk and turned toward the door. Alistair called out after him. “Aedan, I’ve asked Zev to travel with you tomorrow.”
Aedan stopped and turned around. “If you cannot travel with me, there is no one else I’d rather have at my back, but Alistair, I thought he was to watch after you?”
“It’s your safety that concerns me more right now, and Oghren’s pretty canny for a dwarf, don’t you think?” Alistair smiled. He did not mention that Leliana would also be staying, knowing that the pair had discussed this at length, finally agreeing that he had needed her skills here in Denerim more than Aedan needed his lover on the road to Amaranthine. But he knew of the deep affection that existed between the two companions, as unlikely as it had seemed when they had all first begun traveling together and he felt sympathy for the man.
He had often envied Aedan his apparent ease with women and had been surprised when the warrior had devoted himself to the bard. He’d been convinced for a time that Leliana had Aedan under some sort of enchantment, until he’d come to recognise that the pair were simply in love. His mind wandered to the news of Arl Eamon choosing a wife for him and he fought to keep the scowl from his face.
Aedan had noticed his pause, however, and Alistair knew the man guessed at some of his thoughts. They again exchanged fond farewells, then Aedan dipped a small bow at the door, “Your Majesty.”
Alistair scoffed and waved him off. “Travel safe.” He sat down to await the arrival of Arl Eamon.
--=0=--
Aedan was in a thoughtful mood as he returned to his rooms. While part of him was eager to leave the city, particularly as this journey would give him the chance to visit Castle Cousland and his brother, he realized he would miss not only his companions, but the work he’d been doing with Alistair. It had been oddly satisfying to use his mind for a change. He’d forgotten the pleasure of a good book, a quiet afternoon in a decent library. Though most of his reading was far from leisurely, he enjoyed the histories and long documents on law and politics. He’d long since forgiven Alistair for naming him chancellor and had risen to the challenge, studying as hard as the king, eager to help restore the city of Denerim and civil order to all of Ferelden.
They’d had a lot of fun too. Being the ‘Hero of Ferelden’ certainly had its advantages. The first time they had visited one of the lower class taverns, Arl Eamon had nearly had a fit until Aedan had reassured the man that no one would get close to the king with himself and Zevran around. The people loved Alistair, his visits to the more common areas of the city had continued beyond the rebuilding efforts. The king took an active interest in several projects, including the restoration of the alienage – without imposing walls and gates – and Aedan enjoyed being part of such a legacy. Alistair was proving to be an effective leader and Aedan was gratified that all their struggles had not been for naught.
He turned a corner and caught sight of a shadow moving into an alcove set along the wall. He paused, hands instinctively reaching for his swords before he realized he was unarmed. Dropping his hands he slipped one foot slightly forward and relaxed his knees, attaining a defensive posture that also allowed him to spring forwards or backwards as required.
Aedan felt the air move behind him and he spun on his back foot, his arm raised to his shoulder, elbow bent. He felt his elbow connect with something solid and winced at the cracking sound as whoever was behind him dropped to the ground. He spun forward again, sensing his second attacker leaving the shadows of the alcove, and bracing one hand against the wall of the hall, shifted his weight to his front foot, raising his back leg in a front kick that caught the approaching figure directly in the abdomen, not only winding his target, but keeping the daggers he held in both hands out of reach. The attacker bent forward and Aedan immediately stepped in, raising his arm and driving his elbow down between the exposed shoulder blades. As his target dropped to the floor, he stepped on one hand, immobilizing it as he bent forward to pry the dagger from the other. He then repeated the process, tucking both daggers through his belt before pausing to listen for any more movement.
Zevran stepped around the corner, his face a mask of respect, “Nice work, my friend, I see our practice sessions have paid off.”
Aedan started. “How long have you been there?” he asked.
“Long enough to know you did not require my help,” he paused, “this time.” The assassin tipped over the first unconscious form and whistled softly. “I know this man, though he is supposed to be dead.”
Zevran stepped to the other slumped body and examined the face, another man. “This one I do not know.” He deftly searched both men for hidden weapons, poisons and the like, then said to Aedan, “We should alert the guard and perhaps I will take a look at your rooms before you enter.”
Aedan watched over the unconscious men as Zevran searched his room. He was relieved when the elf announced his room clear of traps, obvious poisons or any assassins waiting behind shadows and gave a short prayer of thanks to the Maker that Leliana had not planned to meet him until after dinner. Zevran slipped away as quietly as he’d arrived, returning a few minutes later with two guardsmen who unceremoniously threw the two men over their shoulders and carried them away. Alistair arrived a few minutes later, two more guardsmen in tow.
Aedan invited the men into his rooms and flopped onto his couch, spreading his legs out before him. He looked up at Zevran, “So what can you tell us Zev, who are they… what are they?”
Zevran did not look happy as he spoke. “The one I recognised, he is, or was a Crow.”
Alistair looked up at a knock on the door. He smiled a warm welcome as the Antivan assassin stepped into his study.
“Zevran, it’s good to see you.”
“Likewise, Your Majesty,” the elf bowed with a flourish, a mischievous glint in his eye.
Alistair laughed and held up his hands, “Please, enough with the formality…”
“As you say…” Zevran stopped before Alistair’s desk, adopting a light, easy stance Alistair knew from experience. The assassin was ever poised to strike and though he had come to respect Zevran, he was never truly at ease around him.
Zevran continued, “To what do I owe the honour of this invitation to visit the King of Ferelden?”
“I have a job for you Zev.” Alistair replied with a smile.
Zevran rubbed his hands together, breaking into a wide grin. “Ah, and who is it you need disposed of?”
Alistair’s face assumed a shocked expression. “What? No...I don’t need anybody killed,” he thought over the task he was about to give the elf and added under his breath, “Yet.”
“Just say the word, my friend, I am your man!” Zevran responded enthusiastically. He continued, “So what is it to be, hm? Perhaps you would like me to investigate these prospective brides of yours?”
Alistair gaped at him.
Zevran went on, “I assure you, my methods would be most cunning.”
The king looked totally blank for a moment before he shook his head and said, “Prospective brides?”
Zevran raised his brows, “Surely you know that your former regent has been ah…vetting young women, young noble women,” the assassin’s expression turned vaguely lecherous, “one or two of them are even quite…arresting.” He winked at Alistair, obviously enjoying his discomfort.
Alistair covered his face with his hands, muttering under his breath, “By Andraste’s flaming sword.”
Zevran waited for the king to recover, bouncing on his toes, his hands clasped loosely behind him.
Alistair sighed, dropped his hands and commented, “Seems I need to issue yet another royal invitation today.”
Zevran raised his brows, but said nothing.
Alistair cleared his throat and said, “Zev, how do you know these things?”
The elf merely shrugged, “It is what I do. Now, you invited me to your study to discuss a job, yes?”
“Right.” Alistair dragged his thoughts back to the task at hand. “Aedan is leaving for Amaranthine in the morning. I’d like you to go with him, make use of those unique talents of yours.”
“Your wish is my command,” Zevran tendered another theatric bow. As he straightened he caught something in Alistair’s expression. He raised a brow.
“Watch his back, Zevran, I don’t trust those Orlesian Wardens.”
The assassins daggers suddenly appeared in his hands, the crossed them in front himself and nodded his head to Alistair, “No harm shall come to the Warden Commander while I am around,” he said softly.
Alistair shivered.
Daggers sheathed, Zevran inquired, “If there is nothing else?”
“No, and Zev, thank you.”
Zevran nodded and slipped quietly from the room.
Alistair followed him to the door, but as he looked through to catch the attention of the attendant guard, he noticed the elf had already disappeared into the shadows. He summoned the guard. “Send word to Arl Eamon that I would see him at his earliest convenience, please.”
He returned to his study and had barely sat down before there was another knock at his door. Aedan poked his head through and Alistair beckoned him into the room. It was hard to keep the sad expression from his face, he was going to miss his friend and advisor over the course of the next few weeks. Aedan appeared equally somber as he stepped past the desk, coming to stand before him.
“I’ll be leaving with the dawn tomorrow, so I came to see if you had any last minute advice.”
Alistair smiled, “You are the advisor Aedan, not me.”
Aedan grinned. “Eamon is still in Denerim, you won’t lack for advice while I am gone.”
Alistair groaned and Aedan raised a brow, “Something wrong?”
“Apparently Eamon’s advice will be about who I shall marry.”
Aedan chuckled, “So you heard?”
Alistair looked hurt, “You knew about this?”
“I’d thought it was little more than gossip until Leliana told me yesterday. Her sources tend to be more reliable than idle chatter between cooks and maids. I would have mentioned it to you, but the coronation, the meeting with the Orlesians,” Aedan sighed, “It slipped my mind.”
“Understandable.” Alistair provided. He looked at his friend, “I wish I was coming to Amaranthine. I sort of miss the traveling and the camping, the excitement of the road.”
Aedan grinned, “Do you miss my cooking?”
Alistair shook his head vehemently, “No, that I do not miss. I’m pretty sure that without Wynne, we might all have perished well before the final battle.”
Aedan laughed.
Alistair placed a hand on Aedan’s arm. “Be careful Brother, I can’t help but feel the Orlesian wardens plan to do more than merely observe. I have neither Zevran nor Leliana’s talent for reading people, or seeking hidden agendas, but…the meeting yesterday, it ended rather oddly, don’t you think?”
“You mean the fact that they didn’t seem to question my ‘divine’ luck?” Aedan asked.
“There’s that,” Alistair nodded, “Also, the look Fournier gave the two wardens he is sending with you, it was just so…chilly.”
Aedan nodded. “There is no doubt in my mind that the matter is far from resolved. I’ll be careful.” He grasped Alistair’s arm in return. “I’ll see you in a few weeks then?”
Aedan stepped back around the desk and turned toward the door. Alistair called out after him. “Aedan, I’ve asked Zev to travel with you tomorrow.”
Aedan stopped and turned around. “If you cannot travel with me, there is no one else I’d rather have at my back, but Alistair, I thought he was to watch after you?”
“It’s your safety that concerns me more right now, and Oghren’s pretty canny for a dwarf, don’t you think?” Alistair smiled. He did not mention that Leliana would also be staying, knowing that the pair had discussed this at length, finally agreeing that he had needed her skills here in Denerim more than Aedan needed his lover on the road to Amaranthine. But he knew of the deep affection that existed between the two companions, as unlikely as it had seemed when they had all first begun traveling together and he felt sympathy for the man.
He had often envied Aedan his apparent ease with women and had been surprised when the warrior had devoted himself to the bard. He’d been convinced for a time that Leliana had Aedan under some sort of enchantment, until he’d come to recognise that the pair were simply in love. His mind wandered to the news of Arl Eamon choosing a wife for him and he fought to keep the scowl from his face.
Aedan had noticed his pause, however, and Alistair knew the man guessed at some of his thoughts. They again exchanged fond farewells, then Aedan dipped a small bow at the door, “Your Majesty.”
Alistair scoffed and waved him off. “Travel safe.” He sat down to await the arrival of Arl Eamon.
--=0=--
Aedan was in a thoughtful mood as he returned to his rooms. While part of him was eager to leave the city, particularly as this journey would give him the chance to visit Castle Cousland and his brother, he realized he would miss not only his companions, but the work he’d been doing with Alistair. It had been oddly satisfying to use his mind for a change. He’d forgotten the pleasure of a good book, a quiet afternoon in a decent library. Though most of his reading was far from leisurely, he enjoyed the histories and long documents on law and politics. He’d long since forgiven Alistair for naming him chancellor and had risen to the challenge, studying as hard as the king, eager to help restore the city of Denerim and civil order to all of Ferelden.
They’d had a lot of fun too. Being the ‘Hero of Ferelden’ certainly had its advantages. The first time they had visited one of the lower class taverns, Arl Eamon had nearly had a fit until Aedan had reassured the man that no one would get close to the king with himself and Zevran around. The people loved Alistair, his visits to the more common areas of the city had continued beyond the rebuilding efforts. The king took an active interest in several projects, including the restoration of the alienage – without imposing walls and gates – and Aedan enjoyed being part of such a legacy. Alistair was proving to be an effective leader and Aedan was gratified that all their struggles had not been for naught.
He turned a corner and caught sight of a shadow moving into an alcove set along the wall. He paused, hands instinctively reaching for his swords before he realized he was unarmed. Dropping his hands he slipped one foot slightly forward and relaxed his knees, attaining a defensive posture that also allowed him to spring forwards or backwards as required.
Aedan felt the air move behind him and he spun on his back foot, his arm raised to his shoulder, elbow bent. He felt his elbow connect with something solid and winced at the cracking sound as whoever was behind him dropped to the ground. He spun forward again, sensing his second attacker leaving the shadows of the alcove, and bracing one hand against the wall of the hall, shifted his weight to his front foot, raising his back leg in a front kick that caught the approaching figure directly in the abdomen, not only winding his target, but keeping the daggers he held in both hands out of reach. The attacker bent forward and Aedan immediately stepped in, raising his arm and driving his elbow down between the exposed shoulder blades. As his target dropped to the floor, he stepped on one hand, immobilizing it as he bent forward to pry the dagger from the other. He then repeated the process, tucking both daggers through his belt before pausing to listen for any more movement.
Zevran stepped around the corner, his face a mask of respect, “Nice work, my friend, I see our practice sessions have paid off.”
Aedan started. “How long have you been there?” he asked.
“Long enough to know you did not require my help,” he paused, “this time.” The assassin tipped over the first unconscious form and whistled softly. “I know this man, though he is supposed to be dead.”
Zevran stepped to the other slumped body and examined the face, another man. “This one I do not know.” He deftly searched both men for hidden weapons, poisons and the like, then said to Aedan, “We should alert the guard and perhaps I will take a look at your rooms before you enter.”
Aedan watched over the unconscious men as Zevran searched his room. He was relieved when the elf announced his room clear of traps, obvious poisons or any assassins waiting behind shadows and gave a short prayer of thanks to the Maker that Leliana had not planned to meet him until after dinner. Zevran slipped away as quietly as he’d arrived, returning a few minutes later with two guardsmen who unceremoniously threw the two men over their shoulders and carried them away. Alistair arrived a few minutes later, two more guardsmen in tow.
Aedan invited the men into his rooms and flopped onto his couch, spreading his legs out before him. He looked up at Zevran, “So what can you tell us Zev, who are they… what are they?”
Zevran did not look happy as he spoke. “The one I recognised, he is, or was a Crow.”
Modifié par Sisimka, 29 janvier 2010 - 07:02 .
