395 réponses à ce sujet

[Sialater]

He didn't yell, "No! That's impossible!" So, no, no Star Wars.





Good job, Freckles! You're making me afraid of using Fiona in mine!

[Edrissa]

AWWW! adorably wonderful

[Jannamarie]

Jeez, Freckles04, every time I think you couldn't top your last chapter, you do. This just gets better and better.

[EnchantedEyes1]

Wow, simply captivating! I feel like they are actually right in front of me talking. You are indeed very gifted!

[Kulkodar]

Ooh, this has continued to be one of my favorites (yes one or two others have also captivated me). Nicely done Freckles This story is unfolding in unexpected ways!

[Freckles04]

Part 27

"Bryn! Flank it!"

She shook her head at Alistair's order, wondering why she hadn't been paying attention to the battle. Ridiculous. Immediately, she fell into place behind the hurlock attacking the King and struck it, finding a weakness in its armor. After two well-placed strikes, it crumpled to the ground. With a battle cry, Alistair moved onto the next target, and Bryn followed.

The Battle of Denerim. She remembered storming the city's gates and listening to Riordan's plan with fear bubbling under her breastbone. Not worry for herself so much, as for the senior Warden himself. Infiltrating the city alone...it was a strategy borne of desperation, but she couldn't argue it. With only the three Wardens in all of Ferelden, they had to take risks.

She swept out one dagger at a genlock who'd appeared behind her, neatly decapitating it. Darkspawn bodies littered the ground. They'd already killed the general in the Market District, but an even greater force had been waiting in the Alienage. There was a never-ending supply of targets. She could see the second general, casting spells over the rest of the darkspawn, but they hadn't been able to reach it, yet.

A roar split the sky. Her eyes shot upwards in time to see the archdemon glide overhead. The taint emanating from it chilled her to her core. Riordan had been right: nothing she'd done to this point had prepared her for this battle. The dragon pumped its wings once, twice, and disappeared in the direction of Fort Drakon. Bryn whispered a quick prayer to the Maker that Riordan would be safe, and focused again on the darkspawn surrounding her.
Alistair flashed her a smile as they dispatched another creature, a slight curve of his lips, and she knew he shared her feeling that this was right...this was where she belonged. At his side, battling evil. This was her destiny.

Another roar reverberated through the Alienage. The archdemon? Returning? Cold twined around Bryn's spine. No...that wasn't right.

And Bryn knew. This was a dream.

She watched in horror, frozen, as the archdemon dove at them, its talons outstretched. It plowed through darkspawn and ally soldiers alike, tossing everything aside. Its black eye fixed on her and Alistair. And still, she couldn't move.

It landed before them. Alistair bellowed and charged it. A denial rose in Bryn's throat, but she couldn't voice it. The dragon snatched the King in its maw, and his cry was cut off in a sick gurgle. She couldn't turn away. She couldn't scream. She couldn't help him. She could do nothing but watch as his golden armor was stained red, as the archdemon bit down again, and again, and then, finished with its toy, tossed him away.

Her heart thundered in her chest as the creature brought its head down to face her, turning so its eye stared directly into hers. Alistair's blood dripped from its jaw. It opened its mouth to trumpet its challenge at her, and flecks of red sprayed across her face.

"Bryn!"

Alistair's voice. But no, he was dead. Maker help her, he was dead and she hadn't been able to do anything to stop it. She stared at the dragon, praying that it would finish it quickly.

"Bryn! Wake up!"

Someone grabbed her shoulders and forced her to face them.

And she was in the stateroom, staring at Alistair. She blinked, disoriented by the sudden switch in her surroundings. He pulled her into his arms, whispering into her ear as she struggled to reconcile what she'd seen.

"You're not dead," she breathed.

"Neither are you," he said. His shoulders shook beneath her hands.

She froze. "Maker, no. You...you dreamed it too?"

He pulled back, his eyes filled with shadows. "I did."

She tossed her head as panic began to swell. "It was just a nightmare. There could be plenty of reasons you had the same dream."

"Bryn." He laid a hand along her cheek. He was silhouetted in the light spilling from the open doorway, but she could see the truth in his eyes. "You know it wasn't a regular dream, or a memory come back to haunt us. The archdemon...it wasn't the same."

"What do you--" She caught her breath. Maker's blood. "No. It was black and red, wasn't it? Not purple. Oh. Oh, Alistair."

He nodded. "They've found another Old God."

#

Alistair sat in the chair next to Bryn's bed, his elbows braced on his knees and his forehead in his palms. The dream had been the most intense he'd experienced, surpassing even the impact of those he'd had as they neared the final battle during the Blight. His mind was still dull with shock. How could they be on the precipice of another Blight? Never had there been less than two centuries between darkspawn invasions. It didn't make sense.

"We're going to need to figure out where they're amassing," he said. "Possibly in the Kocari Wilds again; the way has already been carved for them in that area."

"We'll need to step up recruitment, particularly now that we won't have the support of the other Wardens." Bryn's voice sounded as tired as he felt.

Alistair closed his eyes at the thought of condemning people to a life of darkness, nightmares and early death. But it was necessary. "We can try to reforge a link with the Orlesian Wardens. They may put aside any animosity toward us if they've experienced the nightmares as well. Bryn--"

She nodded. "You don't need to say it."

"I'm sorry." His hands ached to hold her, but he kept his distance. "But if we are about to experience another Blight..."

"Fiona and Avernus won't have the time to spare to research how to remove the taint. I know." She sighed. "We also can't afford to show Ferelden a divided front."

"Not that I would consider letting you go, not now. I need you with me. As a Grey Warden, and as my Queen."

Her hands gripped the bedclothes, wrinkling them. "So that leaves only one option to deal with my...problem. Are you sure you want to do this? Alistair--"

"Trust me." He shot her a quick grin. "I'm not as malleable as I once was."

Something flickered in her eyes, gone too quickly for him to identify it. "No, I can see that. Anora once told me that you didn't have any kingly qualities. I can't help but think she'd have to eat those words, now."

He sighed in mock disappointment. "I would have so liked to see her expression of distaste as she did so, too. Oh, well, she's better off in the Free Marches. Or wherever her exile took her." He took a deep breath. "Shall I go get Fiona?"

Bryn nodded. "The sooner we get this over with, the better."

[Sandtigress]

Mwahaha, good timing on my part. I was excited to see you'd put another chapter up. And that had better be just a dream and not any kind of foreshadowing, because we will do bad things to you if it is. :-P Great chapter, looking forward to the next one!

[Sisimka]

Should we be scared? (Exciting chapter!)

[Osaria]

so exciting! Thanks for two chapters Freckles! I am absolutely captivated.....

[Freckles04]

Part 28

Somehow, doing this forbidden ritual in the middle of the night seemed right. They'd shoved the stateroom's furniture to the side to give Fiona enough space to inscribe the glyph on the floor. Unease trickled through Bryn as she eyed the strange symbol, but she forced it away. She didn't have the luxury of indecision. If they were truly on the precipice of another Blight, Ferelden needed her and Alistair to be as strong as they could be. They could not have this tension between them, not if they wanted to prevent Ferelden from fracturing under the renewed pressure of the darkspawn.

"Are you ready?" Fiona asked softly.

"Not really," she admitted with a huffed breath.

"That's a glyph of protection." The elf nodded at the glimmering ice-blue symbol. "It should keep Yanic at bay while we complete the ritual."

"There's that 'should' again." Bryn gave the mage a weak smile.

"Nothing is guaranteed. But I will do my best to protect you both, I swear it." Fiona laid her hand on Alistair's forearm as she said the words. "Now, step into the center of the symbol and sit, facing each other."

Bryn and Alistair arranged themselves as Fiona instructed. The pressure of Yanic's influence eased somewhat as she settled into the glyph, and she was able to look at Alistair without the constant urge to harm him. She rolled her shoulders, feeling as though a burden had been lifted from them.

"I think the protection glyph is working," Alistair commented drily as Bryn met his eyes without flinching away.

"I can still feel it, but, yes, the influence is much less." She took a deep breath and reached for her husband's hand. "I love you."

"Hey, now, what's that kind of talk? Everything's going to be fine."

"Well, it doesn't hurt to say it, does it?"

"Better than being run through," Alistair agreed with a wink.

Bryn couldn't help the answering smile that curved her lips. The grin faltered as Fiona approached them with a wicked-looking knife. Its curved blade shone like cold fire in the blue glow of the symbol. She swallowed. "Any last-minute advice?"

The elf's lips twisted. "Don't die?"

"An excellent tip," Alistair said. "I try to live my life by it."

"I'm going to forge the connection between the two of you, but it will be up to you to master it. You'll have to find a balance, where each of you are equal. If one dominates, the other will die."

"Lovely." Bryn grimaced. "Let's get on with this, then."

"Hold out your hands."

They did so, palm up, and Fiona slashed the well-honed knife across their skin. Bryn barely felt the wound until blood started to seep up. Fiona dipped the tip of the dagger into Bryn's blood, then Alistair's, and traced a new glyph surrounding them. It glowed with an angry red hue, competing with the soft blue of the benign symbol underneath. Fiona muttered a constant stream of words as she worked, words Bryn couldn't understand and didn't want to. The hairs at the nape of her neck rose and she tensed, ready to call it off.

"Bryn." Alistair's voice was soft but firm. "It's all right. Trust me."

"Clasp your hands together," Fiona ordered.

Bryn glanced at her bloodied palms, then up at her husband. He gave her a quick nod. Inhaling deeply, she pressed her hands to his.

The stateroom disappeared. Between one heartbeat and the next, she was…elsewhere. Not the Fade, no. Somewhere else. Somewhere nameless. She could see nothing, hear nothing; she was floating, bodiless, in a void.

Something tugged on her, like Ballistan when she held a bone he wanted. Urgent, insistent. She pulled back as she felt herself slipping. Fear cascaded through her. What was this place? What was this essence that was trying to overpower her? Was it Yanic? Had they inadvertently opened her even wider to his influence?

Another yank, stronger this time. She held her ground, unwilling to give way, despite the consistent pull. It strengthened, and it seemed…desperate, somehow.

You'll have to find a balance.

Was the pull Alistair? She had no way to tell in this empty space. She could not sense him. It could be a trick, a way for Yanic to lure her into acquiescence. But if it wasn't, and she continued to resist…they would not find their balance, and one of them would die.

Trust me. His words echoed in her mind, but she didn't know if they were truly spoken or just a memory.

I do, she whispered soundlessly. And stopped fighting.

Instantly she was swept into a vortex of light and warmth. Comfort, protection, love…it surrounded her like the softest wool blanket. Like Alistair's arms. She felt his strength flowing into her, and hers flowing into him, an endless link. His emotions crowded her mind until she didn't know where his feelings ended and hers began, and it didn't matter. When Fiona had said they would forge a connection, Bryn had never dreamed of this…this level of completion. This wholeness.

She blinked, and reality flickered back into view. Her heart slammed against her breastbone as she sucked in heavy breaths, like she'd just run a mile…or enjoyed an intense round of loving. Her eyes were locked on Alistair's, and she saw her desire reflected there, intense enough to scorch.

"I'll, uh…" Fiona coughed delicately. "I'll leave you two alone."

The door had barely closed before Alistair pinned Bryn to the floor, his lips hot against hers. They burned a path across her skin. "Did you feel it?" he groaned against her neck.

She inhaled, drawing in his warm, intense scent. Her senses had expanded…she could feel his pleasure at kissing her, his need to have her. "I still can," she gasped.

"Maker's breath," he murmured, and they began an exploration of this newfound connection between them.

Modifié par Freckles04, 22 février 2010 - 03:20 .

[Sisimka]

Phew, is it hot in here? lol

[Sandtigress]

Huzzah! Another good one! You're going to spoil us, posting these so fast....but that doesn't mean you should stop!

[Miliat]

...



*completely dies*



...



I know I've said it before, but I love you for this story.

[Freckles04]

Sisimka wrote...

Phew, is it hot in here? lol

::fans self::

Yep.

[bela cousland]

wow! I just found this story today and am so completely hooked.

[Kallian13]

That was probably one of my favorite chapters



Can't imagine why...

[Jannamarie]

Wow! <3:wub:<3  looking for to the next post.

[master-fluff]

So can we have more details of this ritual ? Just so, well you know, we can try it at home ?

[Osaria]

*swoon*

Wow.....just wow .... that was ....intense....

[Freckles04]

Part 29

The sun had crested and was beginning its descent as they approached Denerim the next day. Bryn stood at the prow of the ship, her hands gripping the railing. The cuts on her palms ached, and she felt the murmur of pain from Alistair's wounds as well. The connection between them hadn't waned in the hours that had passed since Fiona's ritual; if anything, it had grown less tentative. By all appearances, the effort to free her of Yanic's influence had succeeded. With Alistair's strength and innate mental resistance now a part of her, she'd been able to shrug off the repeated attempts to gain control of her mind. The persistent prodding had finally retreated around dawn, she hoped permanently.

She bit her lip as she watched the crowd milling about on the dock. Obviously, The Siren's Call had been recognized, and word had spread. She wished she had something more grand to wear than her simple drakeskin armor. Her daggers were strapped to her back, and they gave her some comfort, but she felt inadequate. She was the Queen, but she felt like she was nothing more than a well-armored street urchin.

Alistair joined her and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Everything all right, love?"

Assurances wanted to slip from her lips, but she stopped them. He knew tension coiled within her; there was no point in denying it. "I'm nervous."

"Why? The people love you. You're the Hero of Ferelden."

"But now I'm Queen, too. And, uh, kind of suddenly, at that." She glanced up at him. "Will they accept it?"

"I think we'll have celebrating in the streets tonight." He grinned. "Some good news will be heartily appreciated after so much darkness."

A tendril of worry snaked from him to her. She leaned her temple against his breastplate, warmed by the sun. "Are you sure you can do what needs to be done?"

"No." He blew out a breath. "But it's not like I have a lot of choice, do I?"

They remained at the prow until the ship docked. Bryn couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips as the crowd's cheers reached her. Had she once wondered where she belonged? She didn't doubt it any longer--all of Ferelden was her home. She supposed being away for so long helped open her eyes to that fact.

The ship docked easily and the gangway was lowered. Alistair reached down and intertwined his hand in Bryn's, drawing her knuckles upward for a quick kiss. "Let's go, my Queen," he whispered with a boyish grin.

Eamon waited at the bottom of the ramp, a welcoming smile on his face. If Bryn hadn't been looking for it, she wouldn't have seen the slight faltering of his expression as he took in her presence at Alistair's side. "Your Majesty," he said as he greeted Alistair with a slight bow. "Warden Commander. It's good to see you home again, and safe."

"'Warden Commander' is no longer really an appropriate title, Eamon," Alistair said.

"No? I take it the…negotiations did not go well, then?"

"About as well as can be expected." Alistair shrugged. "But it is generally more acceptable to refer to the Queen as 'your Majesty', I believe."

"Queen?" Eamon's eyes darted from Alistair to Bryn. "You're--you're married?"

"Well, I wasn't about to lose her again. Captain Isabela was kind enough to preside with our companions as witnesses." Alistair smiled and clapped Eamon on the back. "What, not happy for me, Eamon?"

The Arl's lips stretched in a grin. "Of course I'm happy for you, boy! Congratulations." He folded his arm around Alistair's shoulders.

Alistair did the same. Bryn struggled to keep her expression neutral as she saw her husband's fingers bite into the Arl's upper arm. Eamon grunted. "I believe it's time for a private audience with my regent," Alistair said. His fury simmered along the link they shared, and Bryn hoped he would be able to control his emotions until they reached the palace.

To his credit, Eamon didn't pretend he wasn't aware of Alistair's changed demeanor. The smile dropped, and he nodded.

"Excellent," Oghren rumbled. "Let's go. I've had sodding enough of boats."

They started the journey up to Palace District, cries of "congratulations" and "long live the Queen and King" filling the air. Bryn wanted to enjoy the moment, to revel in the city's acceptance, but she couldn't. To the casual observer, she knew the procession back to the palace looked innocent. But Alistair never released Eamon, and the rest of their companions fanned out behind them in a familiar pattern, one they'd adopted frequently as they trekked through Ferelden, ready for any attack. She waved at the crowds to maintain the charade, even though she knew full well that the regent would not be making this journey again.

#

Bryn stood on the balcony of the royal chambers, staring out across the Amaranthine Sea. She'd traded her armor for a filmy nightdress in moss green, and she'd unbound her hair to flow down her back. As Alistair had predicted, Denerim had erupted in celebration as the news spread that not only had the King and Warden Commander returned, but they'd returned as a married couple. Any worry Bryn might have had that she wouldn't be accepted as Queen was quickly abolished as the kitchen staff scrambled to put together an impromptu feast and citizens took to the streets to announce their well wishes. Laughter and music still bubbled across the city, despite the late hour.

Above the revelry, the stars peppered the heavens in undulating pattern of purity, and it was a challenge to remember under such a perfect sky, with the happiness of the city flowing around her, that the situation in Ferelden was far from perfect. Even without the horrible dream from the night before, Bryn would have known that something dark was out there, waiting to act. She could feel it hanging in the air, like the anticipation of standing at the edge of a cliff and wondering if this would be the time that the ledge beneath her would give way. She shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself, moving back from the edge of the balcony.

She turned as the door to the chamber opened and closed, and she knew before she saw him that Alistair had returned. He sat heavily in one of the chairs before the fire and she moved to crouch in front of him. Weariness trembled across their link, along with regret, sorrow, and a hundred other tangled emotions. "Eamon's gone?" she said quietly, her hands resting on his knees.

"With Isolde and a contingent of guards." The King closed his eyes and leaned his head back. "Isabela offered to ship them to Val Royeaux. I think she feels guilty that she'd considered helping him with his plan."

"Are you all right?"

Alistair blew out a breath. "Not really. I mean, sure, exile is better than execution, right? But part of me thinks I should have killed him. That I'll regret not doing so." He covered her hands with his own. "Maker's breath, Bryn."

"It's one thing to execute a man you didn't know," she said, turning her palms up so she could clasp his hands to hers. The barely healed scars on her hands tingled as they connected with his skin. "Another thing entirely to order the death of the man who raised you."

"But what he did--it was even worse than Loghain's betrayal. I should have--"

"Let it go, love," she whispered, rising and settling herself sideways into his lap.

He looked up at her with a quick, surprised grin. "Are you volunteering to distract me? Because I think I'll need a lot of distraction tonight."

"Oh, will you, now," she teased, inhaling sharply as she sensed his desire. "Wait--before we get carried away, I need to talk to you."

"And this is why, sometimes, I hate being King." He sighed. "You're never just allowed to get carried away in the moment, without some life-or-death situation intruding."

She punched his shoulder playfully. "Funny. Ten minutes, I promise, then we can get carried away."

"Five," he growled, nuzzling her neck.

Bryn struggled to hold onto her train of thought. "Okay, five," she agreed. "I need to return to Amaranthine."

Alistair stilled, then pulled back to look up at her. "I thought as much."

"We've only had the one dream, so maybe it isn't a Blight," she rushed on, not really believing her words. She could tell, via their connection, that Alistair didn't, either. "But we need more Grey Wardens. Ferelden is not as strong as it should be, neither the army nor the order. I have to do something about that."

He blew out a breath, resigned. "I know. I won't argue with you. If there's another archdemon waiting to make itself known…" His arms tightened around her.

"I've already spoken to Fiona. She's agreed to be my second."

"So you're going to steal both my wife and my mother away?" His eyes narrowed. "You are truly evil, woman."

"I'm leaving you Zevran and Oghren."

"Oh, that's quite the trade. How lucky I am." Alistair chuckled and leaned his forehead against her cheek.

"Fiona wanted to stay on in Denerim, but…she's concerned about the complications that might arise from her presence," Bryn said. "Have you decided if you're going to make it public, yet?"

Alistair took a deep breath. "I think…I think we'll keep her identity a secret, for now. There's only so much the country can take before it starts to bow, and that's one thing we can avoid adding to the accumulating burden. And I'm glad she'll be with you."

"I'll miss you," Bryn whispered, pressing her lips to his forehead.

"And I you, my Queen." His voice was ragged. "Promise me you'll be careful. Promise me you'll come back to me."

"Of course I will," she said, letting a sad smile curve her lips as she looked down at him. "This is where I belong. I'll never stray far from your side, Alistair, and never for long."

"You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that. I don't think anyone wants me ruling this country alone," he said, returning her grin. "Now, Bryn Theirin, I believe your five minutes are up."

A startled laugh escaped her lips as he launched to his feet and strode to the bedroom. She wrapped her arms around his neck, revelling in the love flowing between them. She sent a quick thank you to the Maker that in this world of darkness, pain, and uncertainty, she'd found the one person who completed her so absolutely.

Life didn't get much better than that.

---

We'll have to wait to see what further adventures Awakening has in store for Bryn and Alistair. 

Thank you to everyone for reading this. It was a great exercise for me to see if I could capture the voices of these characters I've come to truly adore. I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Best,
Freckles (aka Jenn)

[Sisimka]

I LIKE happy endings.



(Well it wasn't happy for Eamon, but he got better than he deserved.)

[Freckles04]

Well...it's mostly happy. There's still the heir issue, and the looming, renewed darkspawn threat...but, other than that...

[MsSouthpaw]

::stands to give Freckles enthusiastic applause:::



I loved it! Thank you for entertaining us all these winter weeks!

[Sisimka]

Freckles04 wrote...

Well...it's mostly happy. There's still the heir issue, and the looming, renewed darkspawn threat...but, other than that...

But they're married and she's not trying to kill him anymore.  In Ferelden, that counts as happy. :happy: