I can't wait to find out how he's going to approach them.... can't stand the anticipation!
Modifié par MsSouthpaw, 07 février 2010 - 10:34 .
Repercussions - complete novella (contains spoilers)
Débuté par
Freckles04
, janv. 22 2010 02:13
#201
Posté 06 février 2010 - 10:49
MsSouthpaw
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Ooh Alistair - one minute he's giving up Chantry secrets and the next minute he's giving up Grey Warden secrets. Loose lips sink ships, Alistair!
I can't wait to find out how he's going to approach them.... can't stand the anticipation!
I can't wait to find out how he's going to approach them.... can't stand the anticipation!
Retour en haut
#202
Posté 06 février 2010 - 10:49
MsSouthpaw
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Modifié par MsSouthpaw, 07 février 2010 - 10:34 .
#203
Posté 07 février 2010 - 12:52
Sialater
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LOL, Looks like I'm not the only one to have spilled secrets!
#204
Posté 07 février 2010 - 12:56
Treason1
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As I've said before, in this thread, I do not like fanfics, in general, but this, I do like.
Still reading.
Still liking.
Good job, Freckles.
Still reading.
Still liking.
Good job, Freckles.
#205
Posté 07 février 2010 - 02:27
Kulkodar
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Perfect! Of course Zev would want to know about Morrigan. Well done and I agree, a story focusing on Zev is definitely in order 
#206
Posté 07 février 2010 - 02:50
AndrastesKnickers
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All I have to say is WOW! A very big wow at that. More please.
#207
Posté 07 février 2010 - 04:27
AdorableAnarchist
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*squees once for each update she hadn't read until now* Love love love this!!!!
#208
Posté 07 février 2010 - 05:06
tallon1982
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Oh lord when the How was she line came up I almost wanted to see Alistair say well i she was great or something to that extent but this is serious so it's all good hehe.
#209
Posté 07 février 2010 - 10:25
Freckles04
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Thanks for the feedback, all! I hope to post some more tomorrow.
#210
Posté 07 février 2010 - 11:27
Maeves_Child
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I'm enjoying this immensely. Can't wait.
#211
Posté 08 février 2010 - 06:15
AndrastesKnickers
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If you published a book, I would totally buy it!
#212
Posté 08 février 2010 - 09:45
Freckles04
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Thank you, AK! That's kind of you to say.
"The Sanest Thing" wanted to be written today, and the next chapter of Repercussions is being difficult, so no update on this thread today. Tomorrow, I promise!
"The Sanest Thing" wanted to be written today, and the next chapter of Repercussions is being difficult, so no update on this thread today. Tomorrow, I promise!
#213
Posté 09 février 2010 - 01:19
Kulkodar
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You can't force it, now can you? I'm thoroughly enjoying this tale and will definitely [im]patiently await the next chapter. Now I'll have to go check out "The Sanest Thing." How'm I supposed to get anything else done? lol
#214
Posté 09 février 2010 - 02:12
Freckles04
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Thanks for your patience, everyone!
---
Part 18
Fiona didn't run off after her unbelievable revelation. She'd stayed, and they'd talked. And talked. In some ways, Bryn wished the woman had disappeared for awhile--it was a lot to absorb. Alistair's mother was not only still alive, she was a mage. An elf. And a Grey Warden. And…Bryn liked her.
"It does explain some things I'd wondered about," she mused. Fiona glanced up from the simple meal of soup and bread they shared at the table before the fire, and Bryn shrugged. "He adores magical items. Rune stones in particular. I'd always thought that odd, given his training. And the templar magic--it comes to him so easily."
"Does he…" Fiona stared at her bowl for a moment before continuing. "Does he hate mages?"
Bryn chuckled. "No, not at all. Blood mages, yes. He despises blood magic, with good reason, I think. But we had a senior enchanter with us for much of our travels. Wynne." She welcomed the surge of memories at the mention of her friend's name. The elder mage had been a constant source of comfort and love, even, in her own way. "She liked to pester him about our relationship. One of her favorite pastimes was to try to get him to blush. It was never difficult."
"What happened to her?"
Bryn rested her spoon on the edge of her bowl. "She died to save my life after the assassination attempt at the wedding. It's…a long story."
"It sounds like your life is filled with long stories."
"Just the last year or so, really. Before the Blight, I was just your average Ferelden."
"Not that average." Fiona smiled crookedly. "A teyrn's daughter who captured the eye of Duncan? There must have been something special about you, even then."
"Maybe." Bryn shrugged again and pushed away her meal. "I don't see it."
“Heroes never do.” Fiona leaned back in her chair and regarded Bryn, a small smile stretching her lips.
“Yes. Well.” Bryn fluttered a hand at her companion. “I just did my duty.” Mostly.
The elf was silent for a moment, her expression thoughtful. “You really don’t see it, do you? You think that anyone could have done what you did--that someone else would have, given the same circumstances.” She chuckled, a morose sound. “My dear, I’ve seen enough darkness in my lifetime to know that few people would have risen to meet such horrible challenges. And yet, you did. You and Alistair. You could have run away, hidden yourselves. No one would have blamed you--you were both so new to the order, you knew nothing, really.”
“We knew we had to do what we could.” Bryn’s voice was quiet as she remembered that talk with Flemeth in the Wilds, after Ostagar. She’d wanted to do nothing more than lie down and give up. To lose her family, then to have such an enormous burden thrust onto her back...she had felt her mind pulling away, like it was trying to escape the reality of what had occurred.
Then she’d looked into Alistair’s eyes and seen the pain that dwelled there. The same agony she carried in her soul and had been there since she’d left her parents to die. She’d barely known him then, but she couldn’t abandon him to navigate that maelstrom of emotion alone. So she’d stepped up, shouldered the responsibility of leading, giving him the time to figure things out.
“He must be quite the man.” A knowing smile graced Fiona’s lips. “He sounds a lot like his father.”
“I never met King Maric,” Bryn admitted. “I was a teen when he was lost at sea, and I don’t recall any royal visits to Highever. My father travelled to Denerim frequently enough, though he never took me. But I’ve heard stories.”
“Who hasn’t? Maric the Savior.” Fiona shook her head. “He hated that title. Hated it.”
“Will you tell me about him?” Bryn asked softly.
The mage didn’t answer at first. Her eyes became shadowed, a look Bryn recognized too well. Lost in memories; reliving hopes and dreams that had never come to fruition. “When I first met him,” she began, “I thought he was nothing more than a puffed-up high-born, drunk on his own self-importance. That impression wasn’t based on anything I observed directly, mind you; simply my own experiences with others of his type, coloring my perceptions. That, and the fact that one man could not possibly live up to the legends that surrounded him.” She sighed. “I was wrong. So wrong. We’d come to Ferelden with our Commander, to venture into the Deep Roads to rescue another Warden. Maric and Loghain had successfully navigated the Roads during the rebellion, so our hope was that Loghain would agree to guide us. However, the teyrn would have none of it. Maric, on the other hand, agreed all too quickly and snuck out from beneath his friend’s watch. That was my first hint that he wasn’t quite what he seemed.” She straightened and sighed. “This is a long story of my own. Come, your eyes are drooping again. Go lay down and I’ll continue. I just hope it doesn’t give you nightmares.”
#
Exhaustion pulled at Bryn’s body, but her mind would not quiet enough for sleep. Fiona’s story had been...incredible. The horror, the heroism, the sorrow, even the love; if the truth hadn’t been reflected in the mage’s eyes, Bryn would have accused her of fabricating the entire thing. But she had no doubt that the events Fiona had described actually occurred. Fiona herself was proof.
Untainted. Something this odd, intelligent darkspawn--the Architect--had done had accelerated Fiona’s taint to the point that she experienced her Calling, a scant year or so after joining the order. Instead of overtaking the elf completely, though, the taint had retreated and disappeared. Bryn had pressed for more information, but Fiona had little to share. The Wardens had been trying to figure out what had happened to her for over twenty years now and were no closer to discovering the secret.
Morrigan’s information had been all but useless, then. Fiona might no longer carry the taint, but she had no knowledge of how it was removed. Damn it. Bryn curled on her side and clutched at the duvet draped over her, bunching it in her hands. Why had she ever trusted the swamp witch? Morrigan and her mother had done nothing but play games with them for their own gain and amusement; why should this be any different?
Bryn sighed. Losing herself to anger would accomplish nothing. With every minute that passed, she drew closer to the mental invasion of a blood mage. She couldn’t allow herself to be compromised. And that meant she had to act.
She would tell Fiona. Something within her sighed as she made the decision. If anyone could understand why she had agreed to Morrigan’s deal, Fiona would, she was sure of it.
Her legs shook as she stood, but she shored up her will and they strengthened. She pulled the duvet around her to guard against the chill of the slumbering castle and made her way across the room to the door. She had no idea where she was going, or how she’d find Fiona, but determination wound through her. She needed to do this before she lost her nerve.
She yanked the door open and fell back a step, a scream jolting into her throat.
“Good evening, Bryn,” Jorn said. “My patience is at an end.”
---
Part 18
Fiona didn't run off after her unbelievable revelation. She'd stayed, and they'd talked. And talked. In some ways, Bryn wished the woman had disappeared for awhile--it was a lot to absorb. Alistair's mother was not only still alive, she was a mage. An elf. And a Grey Warden. And…Bryn liked her.
"It does explain some things I'd wondered about," she mused. Fiona glanced up from the simple meal of soup and bread they shared at the table before the fire, and Bryn shrugged. "He adores magical items. Rune stones in particular. I'd always thought that odd, given his training. And the templar magic--it comes to him so easily."
"Does he…" Fiona stared at her bowl for a moment before continuing. "Does he hate mages?"
Bryn chuckled. "No, not at all. Blood mages, yes. He despises blood magic, with good reason, I think. But we had a senior enchanter with us for much of our travels. Wynne." She welcomed the surge of memories at the mention of her friend's name. The elder mage had been a constant source of comfort and love, even, in her own way. "She liked to pester him about our relationship. One of her favorite pastimes was to try to get him to blush. It was never difficult."
"What happened to her?"
Bryn rested her spoon on the edge of her bowl. "She died to save my life after the assassination attempt at the wedding. It's…a long story."
"It sounds like your life is filled with long stories."
"Just the last year or so, really. Before the Blight, I was just your average Ferelden."
"Not that average." Fiona smiled crookedly. "A teyrn's daughter who captured the eye of Duncan? There must have been something special about you, even then."
"Maybe." Bryn shrugged again and pushed away her meal. "I don't see it."
“Heroes never do.” Fiona leaned back in her chair and regarded Bryn, a small smile stretching her lips.
“Yes. Well.” Bryn fluttered a hand at her companion. “I just did my duty.” Mostly.
The elf was silent for a moment, her expression thoughtful. “You really don’t see it, do you? You think that anyone could have done what you did--that someone else would have, given the same circumstances.” She chuckled, a morose sound. “My dear, I’ve seen enough darkness in my lifetime to know that few people would have risen to meet such horrible challenges. And yet, you did. You and Alistair. You could have run away, hidden yourselves. No one would have blamed you--you were both so new to the order, you knew nothing, really.”
“We knew we had to do what we could.” Bryn’s voice was quiet as she remembered that talk with Flemeth in the Wilds, after Ostagar. She’d wanted to do nothing more than lie down and give up. To lose her family, then to have such an enormous burden thrust onto her back...she had felt her mind pulling away, like it was trying to escape the reality of what had occurred.
Then she’d looked into Alistair’s eyes and seen the pain that dwelled there. The same agony she carried in her soul and had been there since she’d left her parents to die. She’d barely known him then, but she couldn’t abandon him to navigate that maelstrom of emotion alone. So she’d stepped up, shouldered the responsibility of leading, giving him the time to figure things out.
“He must be quite the man.” A knowing smile graced Fiona’s lips. “He sounds a lot like his father.”
“I never met King Maric,” Bryn admitted. “I was a teen when he was lost at sea, and I don’t recall any royal visits to Highever. My father travelled to Denerim frequently enough, though he never took me. But I’ve heard stories.”
“Who hasn’t? Maric the Savior.” Fiona shook her head. “He hated that title. Hated it.”
“Will you tell me about him?” Bryn asked softly.
The mage didn’t answer at first. Her eyes became shadowed, a look Bryn recognized too well. Lost in memories; reliving hopes and dreams that had never come to fruition. “When I first met him,” she began, “I thought he was nothing more than a puffed-up high-born, drunk on his own self-importance. That impression wasn’t based on anything I observed directly, mind you; simply my own experiences with others of his type, coloring my perceptions. That, and the fact that one man could not possibly live up to the legends that surrounded him.” She sighed. “I was wrong. So wrong. We’d come to Ferelden with our Commander, to venture into the Deep Roads to rescue another Warden. Maric and Loghain had successfully navigated the Roads during the rebellion, so our hope was that Loghain would agree to guide us. However, the teyrn would have none of it. Maric, on the other hand, agreed all too quickly and snuck out from beneath his friend’s watch. That was my first hint that he wasn’t quite what he seemed.” She straightened and sighed. “This is a long story of my own. Come, your eyes are drooping again. Go lay down and I’ll continue. I just hope it doesn’t give you nightmares.”
#
Exhaustion pulled at Bryn’s body, but her mind would not quiet enough for sleep. Fiona’s story had been...incredible. The horror, the heroism, the sorrow, even the love; if the truth hadn’t been reflected in the mage’s eyes, Bryn would have accused her of fabricating the entire thing. But she had no doubt that the events Fiona had described actually occurred. Fiona herself was proof.
Untainted. Something this odd, intelligent darkspawn--the Architect--had done had accelerated Fiona’s taint to the point that she experienced her Calling, a scant year or so after joining the order. Instead of overtaking the elf completely, though, the taint had retreated and disappeared. Bryn had pressed for more information, but Fiona had little to share. The Wardens had been trying to figure out what had happened to her for over twenty years now and were no closer to discovering the secret.
Morrigan’s information had been all but useless, then. Fiona might no longer carry the taint, but she had no knowledge of how it was removed. Damn it. Bryn curled on her side and clutched at the duvet draped over her, bunching it in her hands. Why had she ever trusted the swamp witch? Morrigan and her mother had done nothing but play games with them for their own gain and amusement; why should this be any different?
Bryn sighed. Losing herself to anger would accomplish nothing. With every minute that passed, she drew closer to the mental invasion of a blood mage. She couldn’t allow herself to be compromised. And that meant she had to act.
She would tell Fiona. Something within her sighed as she made the decision. If anyone could understand why she had agreed to Morrigan’s deal, Fiona would, she was sure of it.
Her legs shook as she stood, but she shored up her will and they strengthened. She pulled the duvet around her to guard against the chill of the slumbering castle and made her way across the room to the door. She had no idea where she was going, or how she’d find Fiona, but determination wound through her. She needed to do this before she lost her nerve.
She yanked the door open and fell back a step, a scream jolting into her throat.
“Good evening, Bryn,” Jorn said. “My patience is at an end.”
#216
Posté 09 février 2010 - 03:14
Sisimka
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Sialater wrote...
Uh-oh!
Ditto!
I enjoyed the chat with Fiona.
#217
Posté 09 février 2010 - 03:16
nos_astra
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Oh, oh. Evil blood magic stuff coming up. And one very angry King with templar training and a sharp blade will not approve, I guess.
#218
Posté 09 février 2010 - 04:42
AndrastesKnickers
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OMG! I can't wait for the next instalment!
#219
Posté 09 février 2010 - 07:52
TanithAeyrs
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Another cliffhanger. Freckles you are cruel.
#220
Posté 09 février 2010 - 08:44
Jannamarie
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Oh evil cliff dangling one, I love your fanfic! Made my day. I come home at lunch time just to read your fanfic. My company censors game and social sites from our internet feeds. Back to the grind.
Modifié par Jannamarie, 09 février 2010 - 08:48 .
#221
Guest_Capt. Obvious_*
Posté 09 février 2010 - 08:57
Guest_Capt. Obvious_*
Guest_Capt. Obvious_*
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This isn't a bad fanfic. I'm interested in it. Keep up the good work.
#222
Posté 09 février 2010 - 09:03
Freckles04
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Jannamarie wrote...
Oh evil cliff dangling one, I love your fanfic! Made my day. I come home at lunch time just to read your fanfic. My company censors game and social sites from our internet feeds. Back to the grind.
Wow, really? I'm honoured! Thank you. :happy:
#223
Posté 09 février 2010 - 09:04
Freckles04
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Capt. Obvious wrote...
This isn't a bad fanfic. I'm interested in it. Keep up the good work.
I'll try to keep my head from exploding with pride.
#224
Posté 10 février 2010 - 03:18
Jannamarie
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Freckles04 wrote...
Jannamarie wrote...
Oh evil cliff dangling one, I love your fanfic! Made my day. I come home at lunch time just to read your fanfic. My company censors game and social sites from our internet feeds. Back to the grind.
Wow, really? I'm honoured! Thank you. :happy:
Yes, really. And this Thursday when I am meeting friends out for lunch, I am trying to figure out the logics for seeing my friends and getting to my home computer to see if you have posted.
#225
Posté 10 février 2010 - 05:23
Kulkodar
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lol I read at lunch too, I just can't post. This is sooo enjoyable and you're very good at making us come back for more. Keep it coming
