342 réponses à ce sujet

[bl00dsh0t]

Very good chapter You are officially relieved of the 3 chapter requirement stated earlier Moar

[Sisimka]

Why thank you Bloodshot. Took me nearly all day to edit that chapter (Thank you Freckles!), so two more just were not going to happen!

[Maximus741000]

You've certainly showed us how gripping a story you can create; Sisimka. I look forward to the next chapter. Furthermore, your writing has inspired me to a go a bit further into Dragon Age fanfiction, and I've began writing some.

[Sisimka]

Andraste’s Grace


Aedan stared into the flames of the campfire and tried not to think. He was so tired of thinking. His face was stiff and sore from his effort to keep it expressionless. Flicking his eyes away from the flames he examined the wardens grouped loosely on the other side of the fire. They were wary of him, he knew it. He was not the best company right now. He’d set a relentless pace yesterday – his fury and rage putting one foot in front of the other tirelessly for miles. Unable to keep the permanent scowl from his face he’d not engaged anyone in conversation, preferring to walk with only his thoughts for company. But after two days of this even his fury could not match the miles. He’d walked most of it out and while he moved, he was simply hollow. But now he was still.

Philippe was handing out watch assignments and Aedan did not miss the fact that he’d been excluded again. Scrubbing his face roughly with his hands, he sighed and stalked away from the camp fire, striking out into the woods. He needed to walk it off, this rising tension that made his limbs tremble and his hands shake. He wasn’t ready to lie down and sleep yet. He would only think of Leliana and it seemed he’d never be able to shed enough tears over his lost love.

The thought of tears had him cursing his weakness again. He was a warrior! He had been responsible for so much death, it was not his place to cry. He wanted to give into the rage and the hatred that roiled within but there was nothing to hit but trees and rocks. Giving into such impulses would not end well. He would blunt his blades. He was also haunted by the memory of the first time he’d given into the fury of retribution – he’d nearly butchered a man into pieces.

The mental picture of Howe’s face changed to Jean’s and Aedan clenched his fists and ground his teeth. Damn Alistair for reminding him of his duty. He wanted to tear Jean apart. But every time he tried to hate Alistair for being the one that could go after Leliana, he found he couldn’t. His shoulders sagged as he thought back to the night before they’d all departed Highever.

There had been a soft knock at his door just moments after he’d returned to his room. “Go away!” he’d answered. But the caller was persistent, knocking again, and when he refused to answer let himself in. Of course it was Alistair, just as he’d known it would be. He turned his back on him and stared out the window. Alistair stood silently behind him and it became a waiting game, one they’d never found out who would win as they’d been interrupted by yet another knock at the door.

Zevran had let himself into the room and taken stock of the two silent men, looking from one to the other thoughtfully. He’d then stepped to Aedan’s side and said, “I wish to go to Orlais with Alistair, Aedan. I have been to Val Royeaux and I can be his guide as well as his eyes and ears.”

Aedan glanced at the elf and gave an incoherent grunt. Zevran continued, “I gave you an oath, Warden, and that oath extends to Leliana as well. We will find her.”

It was all Aedan could do to simply nod and turn away again at the mention of Leliana’s name. He heard Zevran exchange quiet words with Alistair and then he was alone with him once again. Alistair sighed and said, “Aedan, we will have no time to talk in the morning.”

Aedan turned around and faced him. He wanted to say, ‘Don’t come back without her’, but he knew the words were not necessary. After all the spent anger of the afternoon he needed a friend, and there he was, standing right before him. He wanted to say something to clear the air, but just couldn’t find any words.

Finally, Alistair nodded as if to himself and turned away towards the door. He stopped just before it and said, “I just wanted to say good bye. I wanted to tell you…” he shrugged and hesitated. Then he said quietly, “Do you know how often I wished you were King and I were Warden Commander?” He waved a hand vaguely in the air and continued with, “But perhaps that is beside the point. I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry and that I will find her, Aedan.”

Alistair had opened the door and turned one final time, saying, “Maker watch over you, Brother.”

After the door closed, Aedan had responded uselessly to the empty room, “Maker watch over us all.”

Now, slipping through the dark trees, he wished he’d gone after Alistair. After all they had been through together he sometimes felt a closer kinship with him than with his own brother. He should have said goodbye. He should have thanked him. Aedan sighed. It was just another bitter pill to add to all the loathing that swirled in his gut. Where were the bloody darkspawn when you need to kill something?

Aedan kicked at a fallen log in frustration and then sat down. The cool night air began to have a calming effect and as he took several deep breaths, the quietness of the forest soothed him. He turned to look over his shoulder and just caught a flickering of firelight between the distant trees, then turned his eyes back toward the darkness. He should head back to his tent. They needed an early start if they hoped to make the Circle Tower tomorrow.

He thought of Wynne then. Why was it always at times like these that he missed the mage so much? Probably because in the year they’d traveled together she’d dealt with his tantrums and Alistair’s much as a mother might. She’d always listened thoroughly to what each of them had to say, even if it were trivial. She never belittled their fears. Aedan remembered then a conversation he’d had with Wynne that he’d not enjoyed. She had asked about his ‘relationship’ with Leliana. He’d been so annoyed with her for meddling at the time, but had forgiven her afterwards. Her words echoed in his mind:

“Love is ultimately selfish. It demands that one be devoted to a single person, who may fully occupy ones’ mind and heart, to the exclusions of all else. A Grey Warden cannot afford to be selfish. You may be forced to make a choice between saving your love and saving everyone else, and then what would you do?”

There was that bitter feeling in his stomach again. Alistair had known his duty, and ultimately he did too. He’d tried to tell the king he was a coward and selfish, but as usual, Alistair had expected nothing less of him than his best. And as usual, that is what he would give. He didn’t know any other way.

After another day of hard travel the wardens made the Circle Tower just as the sun set and Aedan realized he had never seen the tower in the daylight. It was as if this place was permanently cloaked in darkness. Arranging accommodations at the Spoiled Princess for the rest the party, Aedan and Taren took the boat across the lake to the tower. They were expected and Irving had arranged the use of a guest room for the night.

There was a bright spot that evening. Irving had news of Wynne and Shale’s quest to Tevinter. He passed Aedan Wynne’s correspondence and Aedan smiled what felt like his first smile in days as he read it. It was good to read her familiar hand and he could hear her voice in his head as he learned of her adventures. He thanked Irving sincerely as he passed the letter back.

Aedan then met with the senior enchanter that wished to accompany them. She was younger than he’d expected from Taren’s description. Of course, Taren was only about his age, so everyone probably seemed old to him. Her name was Yrisa and she was a sturdy woman of about thirty-five years. She was quite talkative and Aedan almost grinned as he tried to imagine how the reticent Taren had ever become acquainted with such a garrulous woman. After talking with her and Irving for a while, Aedan agreed that she would make a fine addition to his team. They made arrangements for her to travel with them in the morning. As Aedan walked to the guest quarters he marveled over the sense of purpose, and therefore calm, the meeting had cultivated. He’d been thinking of something other than himself for a while. There was a lesson there he decided.

When Aedan awoke the next morning something warm was nestled against his back. He blinked his eyes open and lay still for a moment. Rationally he knew it was not Leliana but for a while he did nothing to fight the loneliness that welled within. Finally telling himself he would not have travelled with her this month anyway, he swallowed his sorrow and rolled over to find a cat balled up behind him. He scratched its head absently for a bit, letting it’s rumbling purr further soothe him before rising to dress.

As he left the tower, he was relieved to find he retained some of the calmness he’d discovered the night before. He actually felt somewhat refreshed. They met the rest of the wardens at the docks and set off. The weather was fine and they made good time. Aedan made an effort to travel beside each of his companions that morning, sometimes just exchanging a word or two about the weather and twice nodding awkwardly through condolences. It felt good to be in touch with his men again, it felt good to regain a sense of camaraderie with his wardens. He was beginning to feel like a commander again. Every time his thoughts slipped involuntarily to Leliana it felt like probing a wound and he flinched and tore his mind away, focusing instead on putting one foot in front of the other.

He dropped back to walk beside Kayley a while. The elf was always quiet in his presence and he knew the fault was a combination of her natural shyness and his behavior after Delilah’s death. Besides greeting her as a new warden he’d avoided being alone with her after the Joining. Thankfully Zevran had filled the void. She was always courteous though and a quiet word with the assassin had let him know she bore him no ill will.

They traveled together in silence as he tried to think of a way to break the ice. She surprised him by saying, “Zevran will find her Commander.”

Aedan looked over at her and realized he was not the only person walking here without their love by their side. Certainly everyone here had left someone behind to become a warden in the very least. He felt humbled by Kayley’s easy acceptance of Zevran’s absence and he thanked her for her words.

She continued with, “If you ever need someone to just listen, I’m always here.”

Aedan nodded wordlessly at her, almost overcome. He awkwardly patted her arm and stepped forward to call a break for lunch.

There was another friend he missed sorely. Zevran was like his shadow, always there, and now he was absent as well. He would miss more than the elf’s company however. He would miss those blades at his side. He and Zevran had been a team in battle. Aedan glanced over the assembled wardens looking for a likely replacement and realized that it would probably be Kayley. This idea made him uncomfortable as he did not want to be responsible for her. With a heavy sigh he realized that he should trust in Zevran’s judgment and training and made a mental note to start practicing with her.

As he contemplated the rather boring roll he’d stuffed in his pack that morning Philippe stepped to his side. Aedan beckoned him to sit and the older warden sat in the dirt beside him. He was chewing methodically on similar fare and seemed to be enjoying his as little as Aedan was. Philippe washed down his lunch with some water, then leaned back against the rock Aedan had propped himself against.

Aedan looked the older warden over carefully before asking, “Philippe…your wife, is she in Orlais?”

Philippe’s eyebrows rose in surprise and there was just a hint of sadness in his eyes when he answered, “No, Commander, she passed with the birth of our fourth child.”

Aedan instantly felt sorry for asking such a personal question, he said, “Philippe, I’m so sorry.”

Philippe raised a hand, his usual calm demeanor restored, “Please, this was many, many years ago. But thank you.”

Aedan hardly dared ask, “The child?”

Philippe smiled, “Sixteen years old and a handful, according to my sister.”

He chuckled and Aedan smiled carefully. Sixteen years seemed such a long time. Would he be around to see his child in sixteen years? Philippe had been a warden for fifteen so the child must have been conceived beforehand. This prompted him to ask, “Have you known any other wardens that had a child…after the Joining?”

To his surprise, Philippe nodded in the affirmative and said, “Just the one. It was a healthy baby, Commander.” Philippe clapped him on the shoulder encouragingly and Aedan felt his spirits lift a little.

Philippe then changed the subject and asked about the mage that had joined them that morning and Aedan filled him in on the details. Again that sense of purpose and determination rose in him, allowing him to push his sadness away for a time.

Aedan finally said, “Philippe, I owe you an apology.”

Philippe looked surprised, but he nodded and said, “Commander, it is not necessary.” He spread his hands, “the circumstances.”

Aedan shook his head, “No, Philippe, I acted…have been acting like a child.” Aedan sighed. He wished he was saying this to Alistair instead of Philippe, but this would have to do for now. He looked up and the warden was watching him quietly. Aedan continued with, “Thank you for your patience these past few days. I hope you will consider staying on in Ferelden, after this…after everything.”

Philippe nodded his assent and then chewed upon his lip a moment. Aedan could see the man wanted to ask something and decided to preempt him, “I’m not ready to tell you Philippe. I do think you have a right to know what I did.” He slapped a hand against his thigh brushing off crumbs, then added, “I just…it gets worse with the telling.”

Philippe nodded his assent, “As you wish, Commander, when you are ready.” He excused himself and stood up to rally the wardens for the afternoon’s journey.

Aedan contemplated the piece of bread he’d been holding and threw it away. He’d lost his appetite. The ritual, it always came back to that damned ritual. With the darkspawn incursions on the rise, Aedan had come to a frightening conclusion – he hadn’t saved Ferelden from the arch demon, he’d just prolonged the war. That bitter anger that he kept stashed in the pit of his gut flared and he allowed himself to entertain the thought of final retribution. Once he’d dealt with these darkspawn it would be time to track down the source of all his failings. He would travel to Haven and he would deal with Morrigan once and for all – even if it meant his own death this time.

It took most of the afternoon set at yet another relentless pace for Aedan to walk off the anger he’d incited within himself again. They reached Redcliffe by nightfall and once again he settled his troops in the inn before taking Philippe as his second and heading for the castle. They were making their way up the path toward the windmill when Aedan saw the flower. He stopped and Philippe bumped into him from behind. Aedan caught his breath as a flood of emotion suddenly overwhelmed him.

Philippe said, “Commander?”

Aedan waved a hand and mumbled an apology, stepping aside to let the older warden pass, which Philippe did, only to turn about and face him, his face a mask of worry. He said, “Are you well?”

Aedan nodded and stepped off the path completely and walked up to the large tree that grew beside the mill. He crouched down in the grass beside it and plucked the small white flower. He brought it to his nose and he smelled his love, he smelled Leliana.

He sat there with the flower in his fingers and he remembered the night he’d given one just like it to her. He’d meant it as a flirtatious gesture. Surprise a beautiful woman with simple gift and talk his way into her affections. But Leliana’s reaction had surprised him. She’d smiled at the flower, but as she smelled it, her face had changed. She’d become so sad and wistful. Aedan had stood there fidgeting, his small experience with women not having prepared him for this reaction. He’d hoped for a kiss, he’d produced a sad smile and a hint of tears. Then she’d told him how it reminded her of her mother and they’d ended up sharing some of their childhoods with each other. In a way, it had been the proper beginning of their friendship.

Aedan pressed the petals to his lips and then stood up and tucked the flower gently into the front pocket of his pack. If Philippe noticed the wetness on his cheeks, he saw fit not to mention it. He nodded to the older warden and they proceeded up the path to the castle.

Modifié par Sisimka, 12 février 2010 - 04:24 .

[Sialater]

A) I just noticed your sig, too cute.



Poor Aedan!

[Freckles04]

A very nice chapter. It was good to see Aedan regain control; Maker knows he's going to need it...

[Sisimka]

Sialater wrote...

A) I just noticed your sig, too cute.

Truer words, eh?

[Sialater]

Sisimka wrote...

Sialater wrote...

A) I just noticed your sig, too cute.

Truer words, eh?

Very true.  Makes me want to steal it. :innocent:

[valen_morrow]

heh i surprised to see this posted when i logged on today, good chapter.

[Fumbles88]

A nice read for when I came home from work! Another great installment Keep it up I'm on the edge of my seat here!

[Maximus741000]

An excellent chapter, thank you very much! I also hope the Grey Wardens (Alistair and Aedan) will have the strength to overcome their demons, Alistair being away from the Ferelden Army, and Aedan unable to go after Leliana. It makes me want to send one of my characters into the plot and help out.

[Sisimka]

No, Maximus, thank you! And to everyone else for their kind comments and encouragement, as always.

[K9miles]

I agree with Maximus, i think my mage would make an excellent entrance here. But that's cause I wish what I wrote about him was just 1/2 of what this is.

[Sisimka]

Across the Waking Sea


Well, this isn’t the way I imagined beginning my first sea voyage and my first diplomatic mission, thought Alistair glumly as he boarded the Blazing Sun. The ship itself was impressive and its splendor and size outshone all the trading vessels currently docked at Highever. Captain Reginald and his crew were arrayed formally upon the deck to greet him and Alistair straightened his shoulders and pasted a smile on his face as he accepted their stiff bows and hands in greeting. Their crisp blue uniforms only barely surpassed the immaculate condition of all the neatly coiled ropes and polished brass fixtures that adorned the deck. The sails snapped smartly in the morning breeze and there was a sense of anticipation in the air as if the ship itself was eager to be off.

With the formalities and introductions taken care of, Reginald’s first officer was dispatched to escort Alistair to the stateroom that would be his for the five days they would be aboard.

Having spent over half his life time within the stone walls of the Chantry, Alistair found the stateroom extremely inviting. The gleaming floors, walls and ceilings were all made of wood. The wood itself was golden in colour and it gleamed in the sunlight that slanted through the small, high windows. The furniture too was wooden and exquisitely made, and a blazing sun motif had been embroidered into the drapes about the bed and the ridiculous number of pillows placed on the bed, the chairs and the couch.

Zevran, who had followed him in to ‘check security’ was equally impressed. He did a cursory check of the room and then let him know he’d be right next door, “In a much smaller and far less impressive room.” Alistair chuckled and set down the few things he’d personally been allowed to carry aboard.

When Alistair returned to the upper deck to watch their departure he was stunned by the teeming crowd that had gathered along the dock and waterfront to see them off. Again, he was reminded that this wasn’t specifically a rescue mission, but one of his first and most important acts as King. He was sailing toward the country that had occupied Ferelden for nearly a century to finish what Cailan had begun – negotiate peace. Taking in a deep breath of the salted air, Alistair squared his shoulders for the second time that morning and graciously waved to the well wishers thronging the streets of Highever. Despite the morning hour, the sun was bright and strong and its rays lit up the golden timbers of the ship, making it glow just as it was named, like a blazing sun. Alistair decided to take this as a good omen.

The first day at sea was an enlightening experience. Enjoying the good weather and the new sensation of a sea breeze Alistair spent most of that first day on deck. It didn’t take him long to get his ‘sea legs’, though every now and then a rough swell would send him grabbing for the nearest railing. Zevran moved about as if he was born upon the sea and his inherent dexterity seemed almost to allow the elf to anticipate each sway of the ship.

Oghren, however, was an entirely different matter. If not for the dwarf’s pride, he may not have come aboard at all, but as Commander of Ferelden’s Army, he had been required to precede his men onto the ship, not follow. He hastily disappeared below deck with the soldiers, only to appear moments later complaining about the very thing Alistair has so admired. “It’s all wood!” he exclaimed, stamping his foot upon the deck as if to test its sturdiness.

The dwarf did not gain his ‘sea legs’ that day, nor the next, during which a mild storm whipped the sea into a murky froth that increased the sway of the ship. After witnessing Oghren actually rolling across the deck, Alistair suggested the dwarf might be safer below. He offered Oghren an arm and with Zevran on the other side they led him down the stairs. But when they approached the soldier’s quarters the stench of more than one upset stomach had them all three turning hastily and heading back up to the deck for gulps of fresh air.

Unfortunately the fresh air did nothing to quell Oghren’s nausea and Alistair and Zevran spent a good portion of the afternoon propping the dwarf up as he vomited over the railing. Dinner was a very subdued affair that evening.

Retiring to his stateroom after dinner, Alistair decided to take out the book Eamon had gifted him with upon his departure from Denerim. It was called ‘Beyond the Frostbacks’ and written by Bann Teoric. It was a hefty volume and one Alistair vaguely remembered from his childhood at Redcliffe. Eamon’s wife, Isolde, was Orlesian and the Arl’s desk was often littered with tomes of Orlesian history and politics.

As fascinated as he was, however, by the story of the emperor Drakon and his efforts to revolutionize Orlesian politics and nobility, he found the sway of the ship too somnolent and decided to seek his bed instead. A day spent lurching around the deck in with a heavy dwarf attached to your arm was enough to tire anyone out, he thought as he drifted off to sleep.

The evening of the third day at sea found Alistair leaning out over the railing of the ship to contemplate the horizon. The sun was setting and the view was breathtaking. Although he still found the vast expanse of sea was unsettling at times, the colours reflected by the rippling water were beautiful. He wished his enjoyment of nature’s splendor was not so marred by his purpose. He held Aedan’s amulet in his hand and as his thumb brushed over the gem in the centre of the pendant he focused his thoughts. She was there, across the ocean toward Orlais. Every time he sensed Leliana he felt relief that she was still alive, but each time he used the amulet she seemed further away.

His reverie was interrupted by Zevran who appeared beside him, mirroring his posture by resting his forearms over the deck rail. They stood together in silence a while as Alistair let Zevran appreciate the view. He felt the elf shift slightly then and knew he had come to talk.

Zevran glanced toward the silver heart he was holding and said, “Have you sensed Leliana’s presence this evening?”

Alistair responded, “Yes. I’m afraid every time I try, but she is still there.”

“The amulets were a timely gift, then” Zevran put in with his usual matter-of-factness.

Alistair smiled and then sobered with a sigh, “Though we never could have anticipated such events, yes.”

“Are you able to discern distance through this…gem?” Zevran asked.

Alistair frowned as he concentrated on the gem again. He looked out over the sea and said, “If we were on land I would have a sense of days, but this water is so immeasurable. She is getting further away from us, however.” He shrugged irritably and added, “The captain seems to think that by the time we reach Orlais she may have as much as a two-day lead on us. Theirs is the lighter and faster vessel.”

Zevran put a hand on his shoulder, “Have faith, Alistair. Remember, Leliana has the Maker to watch over her.”
Alistair looked up, thinking Zevran had just made a joke, one he considered in poor taste, but as he met the elf’s eyes, he realized that he’d meant what he said. Just when you think you understand someone, he thought. So he nodded his agreement and slipped the amulet about his neck. He felt vaguely guilty for wearing it, but could think of no safer place to keep Aedan’s most treasured possession.

As Alistair thought of Aedan he again remembered their parting with a twinge of sorrow. Deep down he knew Aedan was a rational man who would not continue to blame him for pointing out he had a duty to Ferelden before himself. But his refusal to talk had hurt, even when Alistair had known the reasons for it. He had been gratified though, upon pausing outside the closed door to hear Aedan’s one and only response and had taken it to heart. He sent his own prayers across the vastness of the sea then, and his hope that if the warrior had not yet found a sense of peace, that he was at least well and had found purpose.

Something of his musings must have crossed his face and the ever cunning rogue correctly interpreted his thoughts, for he said, “Aedan knows his duty, Alistair. I know you two did not part of the best of terms, but he will always be your Brother. You know this, I think.”

Alistair nodded at Zevran. “Yes, I do. Now, was there something you wished to discuss before you start delving into my other more secret thoughts?” He smiled to break the mood.

“We all have our secrets, Alistair,” Zevran answered, returning the smile. He then got to business, “We will arrive in Orlais the day after tomorrow and there is much we need to plan and discuss.”

Alistair remembered something he’d wanted to discuss with the rogue and said, “Yes, and there is a favour I would ask of you, my friend.”

Zevran raised his brows and said, “’My friend’ is it? This must be some favour…”

Alistair assumed a mock hurt expression, “Zev, you wound me, of course we are friends!” But Zevran’s expression had already resumed its droll smile and Alistair returned to the proposal he had in mind. “For the duration of our time in Orlais I think it would be prudent were you to assume the role of ‘Advisor’ rather than let it be understood I have arrived with my own personal assassin in tow.”

Zevran bowed, “As you wish, your Majesty.”

Alistair chuckled and said, “Let’s save the titles for the empress, shall we? Now I have some maps of the city in my stateroom, let us go over our itinerary.”

Zevran stepped aside and with a courtly sweep of his hand indicated that Alistair should lead the way. They went below to his room and pulled out the two maps he had. One was of Orlais itself and the other specific to the city of Val Royeaux. He unrolled the city map and spread it across the table and he and Zevran took turns pin pointing locations and planning their days in the city.

Alistair’s greatest concern was the time it would take to pay proper respect to his hostess, the Empress Celene before he could turn his attention to finding Leliana. Happily Zevran would be under no such constraints and would survey the Grey Warden headquarters at the first available opportunity.

They had just relaxed into chairs set around the table when there was a thumping knock at the door. At his response the door opened and Oghren lurched in clutching the wall and mumbling, “Bloody nug runners, when is the floor going to stop swaying?” As Oghren helped himself to a chair, gripping his way along the wall before launching himself toward the table, Alistair marveled at how someone with such short legs could have such a hard time with balance. He dared not look at Zevran, one wink and he would lose his composure and surely add to Oghren’s misery.

Zevran answered Oghren’s query drily, “The day after tomorrow.” He then paused and with a cocky grin added, “Though in your case, it may not be until the day before we re-board the Blazing Sun for our return journey to Ferelden!”

Oghren’s pallor took on that curious green tinge again and stifling laughter, Alistair quickly located a suitable container for the contents of the dwarf’s stomach – just in case. It proved unnecessary but Alistair left the large brass bowl, now conveniently emptied of fruit, at Oghren’s elbow.

Oghren then produced a flask from a side pocket, which he unstoppered, took a swig of and offered ‘round. Alistair raised his brows in astonishment and asked, “Do you really think that is wise, won’t it just upset your stomach more?”

The dwarf miserably replied, “Ah, I wish I’d thought of it sooner, I was so busy puking my guts up the first two days I didn’t get a drink in. Let me tell you, the world is a different place when the floor won’t stop swayin’ and your belly is empty and you’re sober!” He took another long draught when he realized neither Alistair nor Zevran were game and added, “Believe it or not, this is actually settling my stomach just fine.”

Their fourth day at sea was marked with the impatience they were all starting to feel at being confined to just the ship. Alistair discovered that the main difference between traveling on foot and traveling across the sea was that your feet measured the miles for you. If not for the wind and the surge of the sails, there were days where it felt like the ship had not advanced upon their destination at all.

Several times throughout the day Alistair would pass the same soldiers as the Fereldens restlessly paced the deck. Oghren’s new regimen had produced the surprising result of making the dwarf more balanced and he passed Alistair several times himself as he relished in his newfound freedom of the ship.

That last evening on board was marked by yet another spectacular sunset. As had become his habit, Alistair stood at the railing, staring off toward the horizon with the amulet clutched in his hand. Before he reached for Leliana though, he needed to calm his thoughts. The proximity of Orlais was clouding his mind though.

They would be arriving in Val Royeaux sometime the next day. By all estimations, they had figured Leliana may have been there overnight already and as their destination crew closer, the anxiety and anger Alistair felt towards Jean and Damien grew. But something else Aedan had said that awful afternoon before they left Highever had been stuck in the back of his mind the entire voyage. The seed of an idea that he’d tried not to touch as it represented the same horror he’d seen in his friends face as he’d articulated it. What if Aedan was right? What if this ritual of Morrigan’s had disturbed the natural order of things? Was this the reason the darkspawn had not simply faded away?

Alistair shook his head, but this did nothing to clear his thoughts. He had begun to understand the weight of guilt Aedan had resting upon his shoulders and the reason behind some of his more irrational behavior. He did not envy the warrior the decision he’d made that night and he did not envy the weight of it. If his suspicions had any merit, if Morrigan and her unborn child were in any way related to the recent resurgence of darkspawn, Alistair feared what this might mean not only for Ferelden, but for Thedas.

How could they possibly share this knowledge with the Orlesian Wardens, or for that matter, with any of the Grey Wardens? At some point, the questions would start coming from higher up and further away, from Weisshaupt itself. He and Aedan needed to finalise this issue before that day. When Leliana was safely restored to Ferelden, they needed to confront Morrigan. They needed to go to Haven.

With his thoughts at a solid conclusion, no matter how grim, Alistair was finally able to push them away for a time. He rubbed his thumb across the gem and reached for Leliana. He nearly dropped the silver heart in panic when at first he failed to find her. Twining the chain about his wrist, he settled the gem in the centre of his palm and tried again. She was there, thank the Maker, she was there. But her presence was extremely faint. To Alistair’s limited knowledge, this could mean one of two things. Her captors had either taken her far beyond Val Royeaux or Leliana was unconscious – not asleep, but fully unaware. Alistair felt the small hairs rise along the back of his neck. Neither of these was a good option. He slipped the amulet back about his neck and went to find Zevran.

Modifié par Sisimka, 13 février 2010 - 01:48 .

[Fumbles88]

Great chapter as always, I hope shes okay it will destroy Aeden if not. I wish I could read it all now haha

[Freckles04]

A very nice chapter. I liked the description of the voyage a lot!

[bl00dsh0t]

Mooaarrrrr

[Maximus741000]

I've not felt such tension as this since since, well a long time. But one thing though, how do you know Morrigan is in Haven? Was it confirmed or something?

[Sisimka]

Aedan thinks that's where she is (from his dreams) and he has shared those thoughts with Alistair. I guess they'll find out when they get there.

[Sisimka]

Rage


The wardens were two days south east of Redcliffe when they first sensed darkspawn. Aedan was striding along at the head of the company, lost in thought. Alistair and Zevran would have arrived in Orlais two days previously and it was hard not to hope they’d already found Leliana. Though his thoughts were stirring the usual anger and sorrow he kept tucked away, he’d learned that if he indulged himself while they were moving, he could walk it out and usually find some measure of peace by the end of the day. This time however, the feelings in his belly were accompanied by a creeping anxiety, a rising of his awareness and the sense of a bad taste in the back of his throat: darkspawn.

Aedan stopped still. He turned and caught Philippe’s eye. The older warden had felt it too, and a quick glance about his companions confirmed they all had felt the taint. Yrisa was sensitive enough to realize the rest of them had picked up on something and was waiting quietly to be told why they had stopped. Aedan stepped back to confer with Philippe. The taint was coming from the western side of the road. The road had been lined by a sparse forest for the last few miles and the weather was overcast. These elements combined to reduce visibility to within the first few stands of trees.

As one, the wardens readied their weapons and advanced between the trees. They had not gone far before they smelled smoke. When they came to a clearing they found a small farm. The trees and the gloom of the afternoon had effectively hidden it from the road. The house was a small two story structure with a shed leaning against one side and a barn behind. The smoke was coming from the barn.

Aedan could discern no movement, but the swirl of the smoke obscured shadows and the sense of darkspawn had only grown. They were here somewhere. At his signal, Kayley slipped into shadow and stepped toward the house. Aedan felt his gut clench. He hated the idea of sending the delicate elf out there alone. But he had to remember that Leliana had done it many times and survived…he had to trust in Kayley’s training. She was gone for some time and when she returned, she reported.

“The darkspawn are in the house. I think there may be something in the barn, but the taint is strongest in the house.”

Aedan nodded and they advanced together, the eight of them treading carefully through the smoke and increasing gloom of the afternoon. They stopped before the house. Eric and Rolf stepped aside and took up guard positions. Kayley opened the door and silently slipped through. When there was no sound, Aedan, Philippe and Yrisa followed. The room was empty. They moved toward the back and found a kitchen and a narrow staircase. The darkspawn must be upstairs. Holding his breath Aedan started up the stairs. There were two doors set into a short hallway at the top. One small window barely lit the space. Aedan tried the first door and they found the occupants of the house. Though the bodies were badly mutilated, they were recognizable as a man and a woman. Yrisa was visibly swallowing her horror over the corpses and Aedan touched her shoulder on the way out in an effort to steady her.

They crossed the hall to the other room and Aedan indicated Kayley should open the door. She slipped into shadow and opened the door. Nothing rushed out. Aedan and Philippe moved inside. Another bedroom and it was empty.

Aedan was confused. He could still sense darkspawn here, in this house, and yet they had not found it. He looked at Philippe and the older man had a similarly perplexed expression. They filed back downstairs and out the front, reporting their findings to the other four wardens. It was time to check the barn.

The barn was a smoking ruin. Two of the walls had collapsed against one another with the roof slumped in between. There was a space inside the debris large enough to form a small cave. Aedan stepped close to the entrance and felt the taint. It was weaker here, but present none the less. He stooped to peer into the darkness within. A shadow leapt out at him and Aedan nearly fell backwards in his haste to avoid the snapping jaws of a tainted wolf.

The warriors broke out of their tight knot, all of them drawing their weapons. Aedan felt the wolf impact his shoulder and as he spun out of the way and he used the momentum to slash after the creature, scoring a hit across its flank. He let it go, trusting one of the other wardens to pick it up, and turned back toward the menacing growl from within the ruined barn. There were more wolves inside, and they were all tainted.

Aedan brought his weapons up and stabbed at the next wolf to emerge. Philippe was across from him and mimicked his move. Between them they managed to keep the wolf in place, not only killing it, but blocking the exit for a time. But as the wolf dropped to the scorched earth, another two appeared in its place. One shot through and past them, only to be caught by Eric and Rolf, leaving them to deal with the other. Those two wolves were dispatched all was quiet for a moment. Then the largest wolf Aedan had ever seen launched through the gap and charged directly at Rolf. The warrior raised his shield just in time to deflect the snapping jaws, but the sheer size and fury of the beast bore him to the ground. The wolf was standing on top of the shield and its jaws were snapping ineffectually at the warrior’s armour when Eric beheaded it with a single powerful stroke of his massive sword.

They helped Rolf to his feet and the four men stood panting, more from the after effects of adrenaline than the short fight itself. Aedan took a deep, steadying breath and gingerly stepped forward again, stooping to inspect the interior of the collapsed barn. He could sense no more taint within, but he somehow knew the space was not empty. It didn’t smell empty, it smelled of charred flesh. Nodding his head at Philippe, he sheathed his weapons and crawled into the gap. He’d been right, there were bodies were in here and they were not in good condition. Despite being burnt, they’d been chewed upon.

Aedan backed out and stood up. He didn’t need to tell them what he’d found, they all knew. Aedan shook out his shoulders and reached for is blades again. The wolves were gone but the creeping sensation of darkspawn remained. Something else was still here.

They turned back toward the house. The only place they had not checked was the small shed leaning against one side. Aedan moved toward the door and took a deep breath, trying to clear his senses from the brief fight. He opened the door and instinctively flinched back, but nothing flew out at him. It was a storage shed and there was a gap in the floor – the entrance to the cellar. Whatever they could still sense was under the house.

Kayley embraced the shadow and slipped silently down into the darkness. Aedan followed her carefully with Philippe and Yrisa right behind him. The cellar was cloaked in inky blackness and they all stood at the bottom of the steps waiting for their eyes to adjust, ears straining for the slightest sound. The floor creaked above them. Aedan ignored the sound, though he felt Yrisa twitch behind him. She remained silent though and he inwardly praised her forbearance.

Despite the silence, Aedan knew that something was down here. He could feel the darkspawn presence and the closeness of it was nearly suffocating. Just as he was able to see partway into the shadowed cellar there was a keening screech and a shriek rose up before them. Yrisa proved her worth in that first instant. Before the other three wardens could even approach with their blades, a chilled wind blew past Aedan’s cheek and froze the Shriek in place. Philippe took the front, Aedan slipped to one side and Kayley materialized at its back and the three of them cut the creature down before it had a chance to move again.

There were two more. But more horrifying than that was the thin wail that rose above the screech and ring of steel. There was a child down here! Yrisa petrified a second shriek and the wardens ignored it while they slashed and stabbed at the third. It dissipated, the smoke further darkening the dim cellar and Aedan turned to unleash his fury on the third. Between the three of them they shattered the still form, turning their faces away and standing back as the rubble burst apart, flying around the small room. The sense of uneasiness lifted, the taint was gone.

The wail had turned to a quiet sobbing and Aedan heard another voice try to shush the child and turned toward sound. There was movement beneath the stairs. He called out, “It’s alright. You can come out now.”
A small shape bumped past his legs and made for the bottom of the stairs. He let it go, understanding the need for fresh air and light. The child was followed by another and the wardens followed them up and out of the cellar.

Rolf had caught the smaller child. It was a girl, perhaps eleven years old. The other was a tall boy, almost a young man. He was maybe fifteen or sixteen and had the awkward appearance of someone who wasn’t used to his height. He was trying to stare menacingly at the warrior, obviously protective toward the girl, but his own tiredness and fright was defeating his efforts.

Aedan nodded the all clear, but he knew all the wardens had felt the taint lift. They wiped off their weapons as best they could and sheathed them. He turned toward the boy and said, “My name is Aedan, might I know yours?”

The boy looked at him then and his eyes widened as they ran over Aedan’s armor, focusing on the distinctive heraldry emblazoned in the centre. He said, “You’re a Grey Warden!” Aedan nodded grimly as the boy continued, “Where were you this morning? They killed everyone, everyone! We ran into the trees, but we came back to get some food and got caught in the cellar. I thought we were going to die.” He paused to draw in a shuddering breath before saying again, “Where were you?”

Aedan could see the boy was fighting hysteria and while he rationally knew he could not prevent every darkspawn attack, that he would not always be there, he couldn’t help the remorse he felt. Perhaps he could have been here, for this family, if his journey had not been delayed by that one day. He felt that familiar tremor start in his hands and arms and clenched his fists as he fought the fury down. It wouldn’t help him right now; it would not help these two children. He whispered, “I’m sorry…”

Philippe had stepped forward and put a hand on the boy’s shoulder and was talking him quietly down. Yrisa had taken the girl’s hand and hand knelt down to smooth the tangled hair away from the filthy face and whisper soft words of comfort to her.

It was ascertained that the children had relatives in Lothering. Part of their family had moved there when the resettlement effort had begun. Not willing to abandon two children with darkspawn about, the wardens could see no choice but to take them along. They would detour past Lothering before heading south again.

They walked for two hours beyond the farm before making camp. Though no one had sensed any further darkspawn, Aedan couldn’t help but feel they were out there just beyond their periphery. He couldn’t tell if it was his own nerves or a faint tug he could feel at the corners of his mind. He was crouched down setting up his tent when he heard a soft foot fall behind him. It was the girl. He sat back on his heels and looked up at her, almost afraid to speak. She was a delicate little thing, and he could see the resemblance between her and the boy. She looked back at him curiously for a couple of breaths before saying, “Thank you for saving us.”

Aedan’ heart lurched at her sweetness and he nodded brusquely and tried a smile, “You’re very welcome…I’m sorry I did not come sooner.”

She nodded in the sage way only a small child can and said, “I know. Grey Wardens have to fight all the darkspawn, don’t they?” He nodded again and she continued, “My name is Brenda.”

Aedan said, “I am Aedan…” but she interrupted and said, “Oh, we know who you are, you’re the Hero of Ferelden, aren’t you? Luke, that’s my brother,” and she inclined her head toward the boy who was helping Philippe set up his tent, “he wants to be just like you. He wants to be a Grey Warden.”

Aedan swallowed a cold lump, not able to fathom why anyone would want to be like him. Brenda continued, “But what I don’t understand is why the darkspawn are still here. Didn’t you defeat the arch demon?”

Aedan wanted nothing more than to admit he didn’t understand either. As he tried to think of some truth to give this girl she leaned forward and patted his shoulder, her hand bouncing delicately off the plate of his armour, and abruptly changed the subject, “What’s your armour made of? Luke thinks it’s silverite but I think it’s dragonbone, isn’t that supposed to be the best?”

Aedan simply blinked at her. Is this what he’d been like as a child? Resilient and infinitely curious? Innately trusting of any group of adults? Brenda helped him finish setting up his tent then, her nimble fingers making fast work of the remaining knots and then she sat cross legged in the dirt and watched him unsheathe and clean his weapons. She talked seemingly without breath and Aedan marveled at the range of her interests. At her insistence he passed her a rag and she eagerly set to buffing scratches from his armor as he removed each piece. After a while, he had to admit that he enjoyed her unending chatter. She was so young and so uncomplicated. She made him smile with her odd notions and strong opinions. He was relieved, however, when she turned her attentions upon Philippe after dinner, peppering him with questions about Orlais.

Luke was quietly sullen throughout the evening, though Aedan did approach him with yet another apology. The boy regarded him solemnly and nodded. The look in his eyes said he understood, even if his heart didn’t agree. Aedan sat quietly at his side a while, allowing him the space to grieve, but wanting to be there in case the boy needed to talk.

The overcast weather finally turned to light rain the next day. It was a miserable day’s journey through intermittent drizzle that wasn’t heavy enough to force them from the road, but wet enough that they were all damp and chilled by the evening. The children had walked hand in hand most of the day and the wardens had kept them within the centre of their group.

They found enough dry wood tucked beneath the larger trees to start a campfire and everyone crowded around it, no one particularly talkative as they sought to warm and comfort themselves. Even Brenda had run out of things to say by the middle of the afternoon and their dinner was a rather subdued affair with only quiet pockets of conversation here and there.

Luke asked Aedan if he knew any stories about the mythical griffons the wardens were supposed to have ridden into battle. It turned out Yrisa did and she was happy to lean back and tell the tale. Aedan only listened with half his mind as he allowed the rest to think about his love. The days were slipping by more quickly now and he recounted them in an effort to guess what Alistair was up to. Had he confronted Damien yet? Did they have Leliana? How many days would it take them to return to Ferelden and find him? Too long, it would all take too long, that was all he could be sure of.

When he returned his attention to the camp, Luke and the rest of the wardens had gone to bed and Yrisa was humming dreamily beside him. When they set out the next morning Aedan was much relieved by the knowledge that they should reach Lothering by nightfall.

It was after lunch when they sensed the darkspawn and the weight of the pervasive taint indicated that there were a lot of them and they were coming this way. The wardens were instantly alert, their sudden change in attitude alerting Yrisa and the children. Brenda looked up at Yrisa, to whom she had been incessantly chatting and said, “Is it darkspawn?”

Aedan met Philippe’s eyes, the older warden was worried. Aedan looked around himself to assess what to do with the children. He started giving out directions. The children he sent back toward the cover of some rocks with Lyek who usually fed arrows into the fray from the back line. Lyek summoned a wolf, much to the delight of Brenda and warned the children to stay behind him. Aedan drew out his older dagger and pressed it upon Luke, who handled it reverently. Aedan said, “Only use this if you have to. Watch over your sister and stay back…please, stay back.”

Taren and Yrisa formed the rest of the rear guard, standing slightly forward and to one side of the ranger and Aedan stepped to Kayley’s side as she moved forward to join the other three warriors. Aedan felt the hairs raise along the back of his neck and down his arms, even beneath his armour and was about to call out a warning when a ball of lightening suddenly struck him square in the chest before bouncing off to the side and darting between the five of them before dissipating with a loud crackle and flash. Shaking off the sting Aedan charged forward, closely followed by his companions just as the wave of darkspawn rolled over small rise in front of them. After a quick count Aedan fought rising panic – there too many of them!

Aedan threw back his head and let out a war cry that threw several of the approaching darkspawn off their feet. The wardens met the rest of the small horde with a cacophony of sound that was nearly as deafening. Philippe chose his target first, the towering alpha at the centre. Aedan and Kayley darted left and Rolf and Eric stepped right. The battle was furious, but for a time it seemed they were making headway. Kayley was an admirable replacement for Zevran and stayed at his side, flanking his targets and portioning out her stuns and blows to match his. Every now and then a genlock or hurlock would freeze or become engulfed in lightening and fall to the side. Philippe was still on his feet, so Taren was obviously keeping up with the number of hits the older warden was taking from the huge hurlock.

With a sudden flash and mighty roar the world turned orange. The emissary had struck again and with a darkspawn’s usual disregard for friendly fire had hurled a fireball into their midst. Everyone one was thrown down and if Aedan could feel the heat of the flame through his heavy amour he could only imagine what it must feel like through Kayley’s leather. She was sitting up and beating out the flames on her boots when he reached over to give her hand, throwing dirt at her smoldering shoulder and dusting her off before helping to pull the rogue to her feet. He needed to make the emissary his next target.

He felt the tingle of healing magic and saw Kayley’s face reflect the same ripple. Taren had summoned a group heal. He hoped the mage had enough mana reserves to see the battle through. Then the emissary broke cover. It was off to the side and it was circling toward their own mages. Aedan spun and ran, Kayley on his heels.

The emissary paused in its movement and raised its hands to begin summoning another spell. Aedan forced his legs to move, desperate to get there in time to interrupt. Just as those hideous arms dropped forward, releasing the awful power of nature upon the warden’s rearguard, Aedan leapt up and threw himself onto the darkspawn, rolling with it down the small slope it had been standing upon. He ended up on top and he thrust down with both blades, feeling them sink through flesh even as he used the leverage to push himself back up. He wrenched them free and swept them across each other, slicing open emissary’s neck and nearly severing its head. He stepped back, away from the limp form and turned to find Kayley running back up the slope. He followed and when he got to the top he was thrown backwards by the firestorm swirling below him.

Kayley attempted to slip into shadow, but her concentration was thwarted by the licking flames and she instead circled the area, looking for a way in. Aedan threw up his arm to protect his sight and ran into the centre of the swirling orange miasma looking for any sign of Yrisa and Taren. There were bodies everywhere, but none of them robed. Finally the storm ceased and he sagged forward, dropping to his knees as he gulped in the relatively cool air and continued scanning the ground. His relief at seeing Taren help Yrisa to her feet was enormous, but there were three still forms behind them. Aedan briefly turned his attention back to the other wardens and saw all three of the warriors had regained their feet and had their hands full with approaching darkspawn. The alpha was down, but it seemed their numbers had barely thinned.

Aedan turned his attention back toward the mages. They would not last much longer without their healer. They appeared to be recovering, but what he saw beyond them caused the all the bitter grief and fury he’d pushed away over the past week to well up into a seething mass that overwhelmed him. Lyek had not moved and from the stillness of his form, he likely would not again. Luke was crouched over the equally motionless form of Brenda. She had been thrown back against the rock by the firestorm and her head was bent at an unnatural angle upon her neck. Luke’s face wore a mask of horror and despair.

Aedan felt something give within and his mind went totally blank. As he ran toward the three warriors it was if an eerie silence had fallen over the world. He raised both his weapons and let out his rage with an almighty roar and threw himself at the darkspawn. Time made no sense as one minute the darkspawn were standing still as he cut them down. Then they passed him in a blur and he was buffeted by the blows of many and various weapons against his armour. Suddenly he found himself surrounded by genlocks and hurlocks with not another warden in sight. He threw out his blades and spun backward on himself, hearing only the ring of steel and the dull thwack of his blades on mismatched armour. He was taking hit after hit, but did nothing to defend himself. All his focus was in doing as much damage as possible.

Slowly the darkspawn began to fall away and his allies appeared in the gaps and it was only with supreme effort that Aedan was able to pull his strikes and not hit Kayley and then Philippe. Time slowed and sped up again dizzying him, and he slowly realized that he’d given into his rage. He fought desperately with himself then, trying to regain his control, but his mind refused to cooperate. It was throwing up images of Rendon Howe and Jean and Leliana and the still and lifeless forms of Lyek and Brenda. He couldn’t stop the screaming inside his head and he couldn’t stop swinging his blades until a gauntleted fist connected solidly with his helm. Time finally stopped and he dropped to his knees in the dirt and pitched forward, out cold.

Modifié par Sisimka, 14 février 2010 - 04:16 .

[Freckles04]

Wow. GREAT chapter. The fight at the end was simply amazing. I loved it!

[Fumbles88]

Great description of the fight. I wonder who knocked him out! Oh why do you tease me so

[Sisimka]

Thanks! I really like writing combat so I'm glad you enjoyed it. In my mind it was Philippe who probably knocked him out, he's the older, more sensible one, eh?

Modifié par Sisimka, 14 février 2010 - 06:36 .

[Maximus741000]

That was a certainly thrilling chapter, do you do this solely for a hobby? I think such writing could go a long way in the real world.

[valen_morrow]

I agree with Maximus, you could go a long way. After awhile when you have written a few stories like this you could make a book of short stories.