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[Ken555]

Amazing pieces of literature!

[Maximus741000]

I always appreciate your praise, Ken. But bear in mind each chapter is part of a greater story.

In Peace, Love

Against the stars midnight sky and the silver light of the moon, the sight of Imperial Keep against the darkened trees and pastures was a daunting sight for all to behold. The fortress's walls rose high over the thinning tree line and made the road and the silver lit columns of chevaliers marching through the woods seem immeasurably smaller; in the dimmed moonlight, innumerable arrow slits in the walls. It's towers rose even higher, but their design was minuscule compared to the vastness of the walls that surrounded the vast hall; a testament to Orlesian power. Before seeing it, Aldanon and his companions were moving single file through the woods to keep themselves as concealed from trackers as possible. When Alistair first spotted it as he moved ahead of the group, he stopped dead in his tracks and Aldanon bumped right into him. They'd seen great Orlesian castles in books, and they could tell this was perhaps the strongest fortress reserved for the Orlesian military in the entire empire.
“So, we've got to somehow get into that castle and knock out it's many defences and somehow save Celene, without causing too much disturbance, right?” Alistair asked Aldanon. “How do you propose we do that?”
“Oh, I'll think of something.” he sighed almost premeditatedly, but Alistair looked sharply at him.
“Hang on! You're just making this up as you go along!” he exclaimed in astonishment.
“Yep. But I do it well, don't I?” Aldanon said whimsically, Alistair folded his arms and stared at his friend. “I jest, Alistair, I've thought of a plan while we've been riding.” he chuckled, Alistair shook his head in bafflement. Aldanon unfurled the map of the castle from his backpack, Osecar drew his staff and ignited a small torch to illuminate the map for they could not risk a camp-fire. Due to their heightened senses and training to locate danger, Zevran and Elanea were stationed in the trees on the outside of the clearing where the group had set camp, close enough to listen but far enough to spot danger; chevaliers are easy to spot in the woods. Back in the clearing, Alistair, Fergus, Leliana, Wynne, Oghren, Durin and Osecar stood around Aldanon and the castle map.
“Now, we need to get inside the castle, our objectives according to the map are Celene and the Chantry Divine, hopefully located in the dungeons in the castle's East Wing. If a few of us where to enter castle disguised as chevaliers, perhaps myself, Alistair, Fergus and Osecar, we could search the castle for Celene and get her out, there may be a secret passage leading out of the castle, at the same time we cautiously knock out the defences.”
Alistair nodded in agreement,“Maybe so, but what of the others; Oghren, Zevran, Durin and Elanea?”
“When we come to the castle, we could claim that they were bandits.” Osecar suggested, “And we will definitely need extra backup and rogues to disable the defences and an archer to signal Arl Eamon's army to charge.”
“Excellent idea, Osecar.” Aldanon complimented him, but the dwarves grunted in disgust at the notion.
“I have an idea how Wynne and me could get in as well,” Leliana said, drawing out a pair of chantry robes. “If we come up to the castle before the rest of us arrive, claiming to be travelling priests seeking rest, the guards should let us in and once inside we can get an idea of the layout of the castle” the others murmured in agreement.
“Leliana, that's brilliant!” Aldanon exclaimed, she beamed at his hearty compliment. “With more of us inside, we may even take the fight to d'Aubrac himself!” the others cheered in approval, Alistair smiled.
“Then it sounds like we have a plan.” he said conclusively, “We should probably prepare the stag Elanea caught and get some rest, we'll get up and infiltrate Imperial Keep at sunrise.” the others nodded and broke off to further corners of the clearing to establish their resting places. Alistair, Fergus and were preparing the tents for the night, though neither of them appeared to be doing well without Wynne's help. Oghren and Durin were skinning the deer they'd caught, but their work quickly dissolved into argument, forcing Osecar to reluctantly take over. Aldanon looked up to find Elanea laying some rabbit pelts on a thick bough of a tree and sleeping upon it like a cat; to his surprise, Zevran had scaled her tree and was welcomed to sit himself down on the same branch. Slightly away from the camp, Schmooples and Max had started fighting over a fallen sheltering tree log, beyond them and sitting in a hollow of a tree by a deep blue pond laden with lilies under the moon was Leliana.

Seeing her had him enraptured once again; her eyes were closed in meditative rest and her brazened skin reflected a glistening quality that seemed almost silvery, and her hair turned a deeper red. That she had isolated herself from the main body of the group was rather odd to him, he was used to turning his attention away from the camp-fire to find Morrigan in her own corner of the camp. But he couldn't blame her, she must have been exhausted from being held as Marjolaine's hostage. Now that he had time to properly think about her, he fondly remembered how she would display her kindness even in some unlikely situations and how she would always try to see the best in everyone, her faith and moralities were a welcome grace to the party and a nice change from some of the others. And then, there was her voice; that smooth, silken soothing voice that could bring a warmth to his heart that Morrigan certainly couldn't; just listening to it captivated him, and closing his eyes to hear it in his head melted his heart. He wanted to come over to her, possibly with the notion of keeping her company; he respected her too much to attempt at flirting with her despite her seeming interest in him. Worse still, his memories of Morrigan held him back like a curse in his mind. In an attempt to drive those thoughts of his former lover away, he looked away from her and his eyes fell on a patch of silver flowers with red centres that sat beneath a beech. He stepped over to them and examined their appearance and scent; they seemed familiar.
“Andraste's Grace.” Elanea's quiet voice caught him by surprise, she smiled at his over-reactive response. “The flower is called Andraste's grace, at least it is by humans.” he nodded in thanks for her clarification. Andraste's Grace, the name was familiar. He remembered; it was a flower with which Leliana's mother adorned her bedroom to give it a fair scent. He recalled Leliana telling him that it was the one thing that could truly remind her of her mother; he'd thought about presenting her some as a gift but considered the terrible awkwardness it would have posed, for he was already known to have been in a relationship of sorts with Morrigan, much to her discomfort. Looking back on the trouble she used to give them made him feel heavy with regret. But now Leliana seemed more welcoming to his presence, perhaps presenting some of these flowers to her might work.

The party had finished dinner. It turned out to be quite pleasant, everyone was happy to share idle conversation that relieved them of the task of the next day. When Leliana joined them, she sat herself next to Fergus; Aldanon could see them talking and to his surprise it was mostly about him and his young life in Highever. Though he felt slightly left out, he was glad to see her face light up as Fergus would speak kindly of him. The stag was probably the best meal Aldanon had out of doors since, well, ever. Courtesy of Elanea, after all she must have been taught how to hunt and prepare game as a hunter very often. When his original group travelled the lands during the Blight, the task of cooking was interchanged between them, ranging from satisfactory to downright detestable; his cooking often leant towards the latter. Well, not as much as Alistair. When he felt full, he took some of the remnants of the deer to be happily gorged on by his hungry mabari. Leliana had returned to her watch post by the pond, and fell under his gaze once again. Seeing his master so entranced, Max nudged Aldanon forward and gestured towards her with his head, whining encouragingly. He patted his hound on the head in agreement, mustering his courage, he went gently over to the silvery flowers and carefully cut them loose from the ground. He looked over at Leliana to find her drifting into sleep, he quickly bunched the flowers together, suppressed his needles panic. Come on, Aldanon, you're a warrior, you should be able to walk towards a woman and engage in decent conversation, he reprimanded to himself. He walked over to her quietly and gently laid them on her lap.
Feeling the flowers being placed, she stirred to life. “Flowers? For me? They're beautiful!” she gasped in joy.
He smiled at her gratified reaction and gestured to them. “Smell them.” She took inhaled scent and realised.
“These were - these were her favourite…” her breath was completely taken away, and her eyes swam with pleasant memory. “Oh, I haven’t seen these in such a long time! They smell just like Mother used to.” Aldanon smiled happily as his eyes observed her joyous reaction, she was completely touched.“Thank you.” she said almost voicelessly “Thank you so much for remembering.” she paused as her joy started to drain slightly, “Even if it was for almost a year.” This cruel fact stung Aldanon's heart, he feared he'd hurt her feelings and grimaced.
“Nevertheless, I hope it wasn't too foolish an act?” he asked hopefully, despite his abject expression.
That quickly melted when she pulled him into her arms. “Not one bit.” she whispered in his ear. He shifted gently next to her and remained in each other's warm company.

They sat together beneath the tree by the pond observing the stars for while. In particular, the one of Alindra's constellation; she was impressed that he recognised it. In turn, Leliana related a story to him that he'd never heard when she travelled with him in Ferelden; the Tale of Alindra and her Soldier. As he listened, he understood the sad theme of the maiden Alindra's enduring love for a common soldier that was forbidden by her father, so much so that she was imprisoned in a tower, but it was so strong that it moved the gods and allowed her to join her love in the heavens and in the stars when she died of broken heart after her soldier had fallen in battle.
At the end of the story, Aldanon sat in amazement at her storytelling and the tale itself. “What a beautiful story,” he murmured, soaking it in. “A sad one but nonetheless beautiful one.”she beamed genially at his honest voice
“This story is one of my favourites,” she explained to him, “a tale of a love so great and so enduring that it defies death, and moves the gods to action. Sometimes I ask myself, does such a love exist? Can it exist?” The question piqued Aldanon's curiosity, he'd never known such a love as she had described, certainly not with Morrigan
But in spite of her, he would never abandon those ideals. “If we lose hope in  love, then we are truly lost.”
His reply astonished her pleasantly. “I never expected you to say that. It is – a pleasant surprise.”
He admitted himself not to be the most sentimental of men, but he was curious. “Why is it a surprise?”
“I have to say there is a certain severity to you. Finding a person behind that all is nice.” she explained sincerely but sweetly. She wasn't wrong; his warrior nature pushed him towards those characteristics. “Maybe you should let your softer side show more often. Sometimes following your heart, not your head, leads you to remarkable  places.” He smiled for a moment, evaluating her words. But Morrigan had invaded his mind again. That was his failure; he'd followed his heart after Morrigan and all that lead him to was despair and grief.
He could not help but speak his mind; “The last time I did that, I was dashed of hopes; Morrigan still left me.” he mumbled, he lowered his head in shame rather than grief, he'd slipped up. But Leliana looked dolefully at him.
“That was her fault,” she said firmly, “What she did was wrong and you did not deserve to have been left in the dark after all you did for her.” Aldanon nodded. She placed his hand on his head, rubbing it gently as they stared.

“Is it me or does this camp mirror the one we used to have in Ferelden?” Aldanon said out of the blue. Leliana pondered his words for a moment, but Aldanon put his hand over his face, it was not what he wanted to say.
But she nodded in agreement, “It is similar, yes.” she agreed. “It reminds me of the times when we would spend nights watching over the others. I enjoyed the nights at camp, the night always seemed peaceful to me...safer.” Aldanon mulled her words, experience showed him that they were safer at night where they were together, perhaps she was right. “I know what you mean,” he agreed, “We are always there to watch over each other.”
He wanted to elaborate, but she'd completed him. “I feel the night grants us a reprieve from the troubles of the day. Silly, isn't it? The darkspawn never sleep and d'Aubrac sends patrols of chevaliers out every hour.”
“It's not silly to seek moments to lay down your burdens.” he said thoughtfully and looked into her curious eyes, “We all travelled through similar paths to come where we are now, even our new friends. This quest may not be as terrible as the Blight, but it's consequences should we fail are terrible. It's a relief to me that I can allow time to clear my mind of those thoughts, but I will never forget my duty.” she continued to gaze into him, and Aldanon had trouble discerning what she was thinking. Did she approve? Her soft words confirmed this.
“Your dedication was always impressive to me, and you always considered how I felt at hard times.” she said.
“What else could I be if I could not care for my friends?” he asked rhetorically but she shook her head
“Don't talk like that, you're a good man, Aldanon. Someone with honourable character.” she told him firmly but kindly. He glanced at her, taken aback, but a wide, sincere smile grew on his face and she returned it cheerfully.
After a moment's silence she spoke again. “I used to enjoy the nights when we would watch together, talking to pass the time in those small hours...well, I would talk and you would listen mostly.” Aldanon took his gaze from the stars and settled on her in surprise. His thoughts raced as he tried to chose his next words well.
Fighting all impulses and taking his time. “I liked to listen to your voice. You were and are still not only a wonderful story teller but also a gentle and caring companion.” he said at length, hoping he'd chosen well.
The radiant beam on Leliana's face confirmed this as she laid his hand on his. “But there were times when I fell asleep and wake to find you still watchful and I knew you were watching out for me.” Aldanon's heart started racing, the tenderness of her voice made him feel soft again. “Even now, after all this time, you still care for me.” Aldanon looked at her inquiringly. “You went alone to Marjolaine's lair in the hopes you could have saved me.”
He sighed, he'd hoped she hadn't learnt. “You must have thought me a confounded moron.” he said glumly.
“A moron?!” she cried in shock, but turned earnest “Aldanon, I'm touched! You were willing to risk your life for me, even when you knew the danger could have been too great. And now, here you sit as my saviour.” Aldanon turned bright red and looked bashfully about, but couldn't help but smile again at her sincerity and gratitude, placing his hand on hers and breathing lightly as she wove her hand through his well-kept hair.
He mustered his senses, “With Marjolaine gone, you never have to feel afraid with me.” he said warmly. He allowed Leliana to resume, but something had changed. She was more unsettled, he could see it in her voice and expressions as if she did not know what to make of his words and had lost her confidence, almost vulnerable.
“W-What I'm trying to is... is that I trust you.” she stammered softly. Aldanon held his breath in embarrassment, had he said something wrong? “I'm comfortable around you and I know you'll be there when I need you. Just like on that terrible night when all I cherished was nearly destroyed.” the thought of what Marjolaine did nearly pushed her to tears, but Aldanon gently took her hand and laid it in both of his in an effort to comfort her. He could feel a slight, nervous chill in her hand and stroked it lightly to sooth her, her smooth skin spellbinding him.
“I will always be here for you,” he said consolingly, trying to look her in the eye. “I will be more than just a leader- ”
“Yes, yeas your are our leader and my friend and -” she chimed in falteringly, “you where their in my darkest hour and you gave me new purpose in life though Aveline when I feared my vengeance would lead to nothing. Now that this ordeal is nearly over, I wonder if that m-maybe we could be more than that...” His organs somersaulted. Did she actually just say that? Surely he was hearing things. She knew about him and Morrigan during the Blight, and he'd remembered her disappointment at the idea and the hurt expression she'd given him after he'd slept with Morrigan for the first time stayed in his head. Had Leliana truly forgiven him? His eyes fixed on her in a mixture of bewilderment and amazement, but this made her blush incandescently.
She took her hand away from his grasp and stifled a small chuckle, “Maker... look at me stumbling over my words like some ill-educated peasant girl. Some bard I am...” even in the shade of the tree and the dark of night, her cheeks were so flushed she seemed hot to the touch. She was clearly embarrassed about something.
In a surge of cheekiness, he grinned mischievously “You know, you are quite cute when you’re embarrassed.”
“I’m not embarrassed!” Leliana defied him, briefly looking about and saw the distant camp fire. “I'm just... flushed because... of the... heat!” Of course you are! He restrained urge to laugh or smile.
In his effort to return to seriousness, whatever it was obviously escaped him because he could not stop what was about to be blurted out in an earnest voice; “Ever since Morrigan left me, I've yearned that we may be more than what we were during the Blight.” He tightened his lips as Leliana's eyes widened and mouth gaped open.
“Really? You – you felt the same way and didn't do me the courtesy of informing me?” she said disbelievingly. Well done, you nitwit, Aldanon reprimanded himself again. He'd said something wrong for sure. He wanted to say 'Well, technically I have informed you' but knew how annoying that would sound. Even when flustered or stumbling over words, she still seemed soft and sweet. He needed to take action before he lost control. “You – you made me say all those things!” she continued to barrage him, “Why couldn't you have said them first? Oh, you, oh, how very awkward.” Aldanon continued to fight the urge to blurt out again, he too was beginning to overheat from all the tension he'd unintentionally caused. The recent affairs and Morrigan's desertion left him yearning to love and know it again, he'd discovered it in Leliana. He needed to counter her indignation with humour; a tactic which often worked, well once with Delilah Howe at least. He needed to act quickly.
“I know, I'm a terrible person! I really am!” he said jocularly, her critical look died down slightly.
“Oh, chivalry is so dead, making the woman spill her guts out like that...” she exclaimed. Honestly, Aldanon, you're the most graceless bumpkin I've ever met, she thought. It became clear to him that there was nothing more to say; actions spoke louder than words. He gently placed his hand on her lips to silence her, paced a foot closer, locking the gaze of his green eyes with her blue eyes he carefully leaned forward; and his lips met hers in their first kiss. It was light at first, but both grew more ardent and passionate, her arms wrapped around his neck and felt the warmth of his cheeks, and his head swam in the warm, dynamic feeling this kiss gave him and felt the warmth of her body press against his. He did not want to let go; all Morrigan used to represent to him was gone.
They relinquished their kiss and Leliana cleared her throat to speak, but her coherency was still missing, “Well... I-I um... hmm... that settles it then.” he nodded genially and smiled. She could feel his heart racing from exhilaration, and Aldanon rested against the tree, still holding one arm over her and feeling her warm body snuggling against him.

Modifié par Maximus741000, 20 avril 2010 - 10:34 .

[Ken555]

I agree with you Maximus and keep it up!

[Thoron Draugohtar]

Awesome, the way you used the dialogue from the game was great. You even justified why your character said it which was good.



But now the happy/love scenes are over, the story can commence?

[MireliA]

Well I enjoyed it and I agreed with jojomeister, you managed to mesh the game and your own dialogue really well.

And the schmaltz wasn't too schmaltzy. About time Aldanon came to his senses (about Morrigan I mean)

[Ken555]

Go Aldanon and Maximus!

[Maximus741000]

Imperial Keep

Aldanon lay in his tent, fond memories of last night and Leliana clinging to him like morning due on grass. Though Fergus had planted his tent on rather rough ground, Leliana's voice and warmth were his support during the night. Suddenly something hit the side of his tent, the sharp sound woke him up with a start as he cursed.
“Aldanon, come out,” Fergus said urgently, tapping his sword on the tent. “It's just past sunrise, time to get up.”
Aldanon slowly rolled of his bedroll and crawled out of the tent, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “Maker...” he groaned sleepily, he mustered his senses. “Wait, sunrise? We need to get moving. Hold on, where's Leliana?”
Fergus raised his eyebrow, “She left with Wynne one hour ago to get into the castle, Zevran thinks they got in. But Aldanon, Elanea's gone!” Just as he rubbed the last of his sleep was rubbed out, Aldanon froze on the spot.
“She's gone?!” he shouted, “What- but- when- why?! Why would this happen?!” he raved in incomprehension.
“After you went to sleep, a clan of Dalish hunters ambushed us.” Alistair explained, “None of us were injured beyond Wynne's magic, but it really was a shock. Elanea was able to get them to start communicating with us-” “The dalish said that we were aligned with d'Aubrac's men,” Zevran broke in “she told them that we weren't but they weren't having any of it and told us to leave because we were too close to their camp.”
“After the ambush, she started getting ideas of getting them to join us. We told her it was crazy but she wasn't listening either. I saw her retire to her tree, and when we woke up, she was gone.” Osecar joined in.
“Not even Zevran knows where he is” Fergus concluded. Aldanon mulled their words over despairingly.
“She must have gone to find them and try to persuade them to join us.” he decided, “We cannot wait for her.”
Zevran suddenly turned hotly furious, “We are not leaving her! After all she's done for us, for you, you would leave her?” Aldanon faced him disbelievingly, “You said it yourself, we need everyone there to fight.”
“Zevran, we're loosing too much time.” Aldanon said insistently, “We cannot afford to search for her.”
“What if we decided to leave Leliana behind and did not consider your opinion?!” he shouted fiercely
Aldanon's imperative manner became understanding.“You truly feel that way about her, don't you?” Zevran's anger melted away. “Why else do you think she left without telling us? I refuse to believe she abandoned us, but these are her people, and would listen to her. Please, Zev, trust her, just as you've trusted your own instincts.”
The elven assassin's anger had dissipated to reason and logic.“Very well” he said at length, “It's true I trust her enough to go by herself when need be. Let us delay no longer and give d'Aubrac a taste of his own medicine.” Aldanon clasped his hand, smiling encouragingly, beckoning him not to give up hope. The others had assembled.
“My friends, today the evil coup of Claude d'Aubrac is ended.” Aldanon announced to them, “Let us make his hubris become his doom, save Celene, and restore peace to Orlais!” The rising sun made his dragonbone armour shine with a burnt red quality, that mirrored his passion and fuelled the companions' ardency for victory.

                                                                                                ++++++++++

One step closer to triumph, Wynne thought as she and Leliana wandered the halls and corridors of Imperial Keep. They had only just entered the castle, and were told to go and wait in the Duke's hall at the centre of the fortress. Even though the fort was one of the proudest and most celebrated keeps in the Empire, the oppressive, tyrannical atmosphere from the harsh intentions of d'Aubrac dominated the place. It even seeped into the minds of the many chevaliers there; the ones who had to swear loyalty to him were grouped together and admitted their reluctance to one another. Leliana considered the ambience of the fort to be akin to the soldier bastion of the Arl of Denerim's Estate, when she went with Aldanon after Arl Howe; there were some men loyal to the ruling lord and others who weren't. They managed to get onto the walls; the cool, fresh morning air, the impressive view of the lands, the dew on the leaves of the hills and fields shining under the morning sun and the beauty of the dawn was enough to put both Wynne's and Leliana's unease to rest. Below them, their quarry had arrived; Aldanon, Alistair, Fergus and Osecar trotted into view, tugging Zevran, Oghren and Durin behind them on hard ropes. The first four were clad in the armour of d'Aubrac's chevaliers. But where was Elanea? Fergus marched ahead of the group, keeping Aldanon far to the back to prevent him from being spotted; it was hoped that his own Orlesian was better than Aldanon's and because he was the one man they would least recognise. Both women knelt down on one knee, faking a prayer to the Maker, and listened in on Fergus' negotiation with the guards. He seemed to have been doing well at first; his accent and several of his words were in the right place, but he had to insist that he presented the 'bandits' to d'Aubrac instead of sending them to be hung, this made them very suspicious. But Oghren lost patience and tried to attack them when he broke his rope, it took all four of them to pin him down again. Convinced that the 'bandits' were dangerous, the guards let them pass into the courtyard.

                                                                                                ++++++++++

Aldanon could see that the courtyard was a hive of activity; hundreds men drilled hard against one another while others rested, patrols passed by regularly and officers strutted about barking orders to their men. He looked up at the two brown-clad figures on the wall, Wynne gestured to him to meet them on the bridge leading to the wall on their right. They entered the antechamber of the castle; the room was dimly lit, lacked decoration and stank of sweaty men patrolling the corridors of the Keep and lying idle or standing guard. Fergus asked a guard which direction to the prison, to their fortune, it was to the right, towards the bridge. They walked in that direction, passing the dozens of men in their path, until they spotted a door leading to an upward staircase. To avoid being spotted, Aldanon gestured Fergus, Alistair and Osecar to remain behind and guard the others to keep up the pretence. He came out onto the bridge, the sun blazing on his chevalier armour and firing Leliana's starlet hair. She smiled as he took his helmet off, stealing time for a chaste kiss, before quickly returning to the mission.
“We've searched the castle for some time now,” she explained to him quietly, leading him to the staircase, “The Keep's walls are where most of the chevaliers' quarters are stationed, and where most of them are. I might have to tinker with most of their door locks and trap them in, thus cutting d'Aubrac off from additional troops.”
“But it might not be enough, if the chevaliers woke up then they would call for help” Wynne feared, “While we were searching, I did notice there were crates of sleep bombs, most likely purchased from the Orlesian Circle of Magi, if were were to set them off inside the chevalier quarters, they soldiers within be knocked senseless.”
Aldanon nodded as he listened, his eyes glinting with hope, “Excellent work, you two. But did you find Celene?” Both women nodded, but there was something grievous at mention of her name, Aldanon grimaced in fear.
“We did find her, where you said, in the East Wing,” Wynne explained sadly, “We didn't recognise her at first.”
Leliana nodded, her eyes betrayed something terrible. “She was tortured, cut and beaten all across her body, parts of her hair were torn and her dress was shredded, when Wynne tried to speak to her, she didn't recognise her.”
Wynne sombrely acknowledged her, “I also detected traces of entropic magic on her body, she must have been tortured by mages as well. We should be alert and use caution when we free Celene.”
“We've seen most of the keep's defences,” Leliana resumed, pulling out a layered map of the keep, “trebuchets strategically positioned on each of the six segments of the walls flanked by towers, easy enough to debilitate with the sleep bombs and the trebuchets can be easily broken. As for how to get Celene out, I'm not so certain.”
Aldanon nodded understandably, “Lets gather the others and see what we can draw up from this.” he took the map and gestured down the staircase to the others, but no one responded. He called their names out but still received nothing. He stepped down the stairs to investigate. To his horror, Fergus, Alistair, Zevran, Oghren and Durin were held at blade end by d'Aubrac's chevaliers and a familiar face for Leliana; Captain Detrer.

                                                                                                ++++++++++

Aldanon was caught stunned, Wynne was confused and Leliana enraged at the presence at the smug captain. Aldanon knew immediately that this was no situation that could be resolved with automatic bloodshed.
“So you return from the dead,” Detrer announced in a tone that tried to remove quality, “I think my lord will be most pleased that he has a chance to do what Marjolaine failed to accomplish and complete his victory.”
Leliana drew her daggers, “You will pay for your barbarism, Detrer!” she cried, and charged towards him. Aldanon lunged towards her to stop her, but she struggled to be free, “Let me go, Aldanon!!” she shouted in rage.
“He's quite right to restrain you of course,” said Detrer, holding his blade to Alistair, “One more step, and their throats are slit open. The only way I can spare them and your priest friends is if you give yourself willingly to us.” Aldanon stilled in horror; the impossible choice was before him. Wynne could not save them if he resorted to hostility, nor could they reasonably complete the mission without him or the entire castle knowing about them.
“Just who exactly are you?” he queried, attempting to buy time, “And how do you know him, Leliana?”
“He's the man who arrested me when I worked for Marjolaine and the man who sold me back to Marjolaine when I returned.” she seethed, drawing her bow to fire, only to be answered by pained gurgling from Alistair.
“I am Duke d'Aubrac's first captain, Detrer,” he said diplomatically, “But I'm not here to introduce myself, all I require is whether you are a selfless, worthy champion or a selfish, cowardly opportunist.” Detrer's words stung Aldanon's ire, he wanted to rush headlong and dismember him there, but he needed to consider his assets first.
Suddenly, something sparked in him, “Actually, what amazes me is that though we've just met, you really are bone dead stupid.” Detrer stared at Aldanon furiously and his jaw fixed, but did not press his sword further. “I mean, you've got over a dozen men at your side and yet you still can't see the obvious,” Aldanon continued, his courage was baffling Leliana, but Wynne seemed to understand what he implied and silently drew her staff.
“Like what?” Detrer humoured him, as a helmed chevalier flanked him quietly.
“That chevalier behind you is one inch too short.” he said quietly, indicating the man flanking Detrer; he turned around and saw the chevalier draw a staff rather than a sword and knocked him against the wall with a fist of stone. Shocked and baffled and thwarted, the enemy chevaliers drew their swords from the trapped warriors and rogue to engage Osecar, but the elven mage was prepared and unleashed a jet of ice that froze them in place. With the enemy frozen, Alistair, Fergus, Oghren, Durin and Zevran rose up to shatter their ice casings, sending them limply to the ground, dead. The group breathed a sigh of relief and piled the bodies away from the hall, another patrol was coming. Whilst dragging the bodies up the staircase Durin noticed to his left a small trapdoor, he lifted it to reveal a deep compartment filled with stones, most likely for the trebuchets.
“We can deposit the bodies in this compartment.” he whispered hoarsely and gestured the trapdoor. But Leliana was more interested in finishing Detrer, but he'd already gone; though disappointed, she'd vowed to slay him.
“That was close,” Aldanon commented, “Anyway, now that they're out of the way, we will need to move quickly. Leliana and I will go to the room where Wynne said the sleep bombs are and knock out the chevalier quarters. Zevran, you're the next lock-picker we have, go with Fergus, Alistair, and Durin and knock out the trebuchets.”
Zevran mused Aldanon's orders, “Hmm, I do have some experience of knocking out castle defences, once at a Don's castle in Nevarra, but regardless, I will see it done!” Aldanon smiled at the rogue's optimism.
“That leaves Wynne, Durin and Osecar to find a way out for Celene, once you've found a way, locate me. We will free Celene, and Wynne you will have to get her away from the Keep. I'll make my way to the portcullis.”

                                                                                                ++++++++++

Alistair, Fergus, Oghren and Zevran made it to the top of the walls. While Zevran readjusted the ropes of the trebuchets so that they would break apart on pressure, and Oghren lent him his strength, Alistair and Fergus watched for Detrer and hostile chevaliers. Alistair, though believing that victory was possible, feared for their survival if they were caught. The first two segments of the wall were successfully crippled of defences; but before long, organised patrols of chevaliers led by Detrer started appearing everywhere. Aldanon found the crate full of sleeping grenades, and took it to the first few quarters where the resting soldiers lay, allowing Leliana to quietly infiltrate the rooms and place one grenade in each room. The gas would seep through the room and Leliana would escape before the gas could effect and lock the door. They were caught in the act twice, but never captured, for there were enough sleep bombs in the crate to finish them of quickly. However, they could not find anywhere to dispose the bodies and had to work faster, and Leliana knew speed wasn't the way to achieve this. Perhaps it was only Aldanon who kept his confidence up against all odds. They'd finished three sections of the walls, and had to move to the next one along via the hallways. The sound of arguing came unexpectedly from a cellar, Before long, they stumbled on Durin and oddly enough, Oghren, arguing to their usual ridiculous and in Wynne's viewpoint childish proportions. Aldanon wanted to know why he wasn't with Alistair and Fergus. At first glance, they were both quarrelling over a door, but when Aldanon approached they stopped their banter.
“Ah, Warden,” Oghren welcomed Aldanon, “I think my stone-sense is tingling, and that we're on to something!”
Had he been at the beer again? “Really, why's that?” Aldanon asked the dwarf. “and why are you down here?”
“Fergus said there were too many of us, and might draw attention. And because we found some tracks.”
Aldanon paced to the doorway where the dwarves stood. “Oghren, those are mine tracks.” he commented.
Leliana frowned, looking down into the tunnel “Aldanon, those aren't your tracks. They're-”
“No, no, no. Not 'mine', 'mine'. As in-” he interjected, only to be cut off by Leliana again again.
“What? Now, you're making no sense, you're saying they're yours when they're clearly not. They're-”
Durin joined in the act, “No, I think he's saying they're mine-” she rolled her eyes, sighing in exasperation.
“They're not yours either! For one thing they're made of iron and wood and-”
“Makers Breath!” he almost shouted, “I meant 'mine', as in mining tracks, for mines and miners.” he elaborated.
“Ooohh!” she exclaimed, stifling a giggle at the sheer silliness of it; the dwarves had indeed found a mineshaft, it was completely unlit save for a few nearby torches, in it's darkness it seemed to go on forever. Out of the dark, two figures illuminated by torchlight; it was Wynne and Osecar. On seeing Aldanon, they hastened their pace.
“Good, you've made it,” Wynne breathed, cleaning spots of dust of her robe, “We found this tunnel, it leads to an outcropping of rocks a few miles east of the Keep in the woods. I think we've just found a way out for Celene.”
“Excellent work, I think the time has come to free Celene.” Aldanon announced, “I will go to the East Wing with Leliana and try to free her, We'll escort her to this cellar and Wynne, I want you to get her out.” Wynne nodded obediently, seeing his logic, he turned to Osecar “I want you to put the sleep bombs in the soldier quarters, try and use a heat spell to fuse the lock.” Osecar drew his staff in demonstration of the potential spell; impressed, Aldanon turned to the dwarves, “As for you two, go to the walls and help Fergus and Alistair. Lets go!” They separated to do their part. Still in his chevalier disguise, Aldanon followed Leliana to the prison wing, passing a guard with tolerable Orlesian, announcing further torture. He followed her to the furthest cell, upon seeing her his blood froze. She was exactly as Leliana had described; a broken shell of a woman with nothing left in life, and behind her, nestled in a corner of the cell, looking almost as worse for wear, the Chantry Divine.
“Celene...” he whispered to her, she looked up at him, her eyes clouded with confusion, “Celene, it's me.”
“No,” she mumbled weakly, “It can't be you, you're dead. d'Aubrac's men killed you.” she shuffled away.
“Celene, please listen,” he urged, “We're going to get you out, you and Her Reverence.” he nodded to the Divine.
“I fear your efforts are all but spent, lad.” the old woman said gravely, “The empress was so shocked at the betrayal of her husband, the burning of Val Royeaux and the many tortures he inflicted on her that she is for all intents and purposes deceased. She was strong, and remains so to an extent, but this is the end of her world.”
“Your Reverence, there is still hope,” Leliana appealed to her, “Val Royeaux has been saved and many lives with it. Even now, the armies of General Tremir and Ferelden march on d'Aubrac. Take heart and hold onto hope.” Moved by Leliana's words, the hazy eyes of the old priest revealed a distant sign of hope, and smiled slightly.
Leliana took Celene gently by the chin, “And Your Majesty, would you allow d'Aubrac's plots to come to pass and abandon your people to him, or if offered the chance, topple his regime once and for all? Take the chance.” Celene paused and mulled Leliana's words, impressed and disbelieving at the same time, but passed her decision.
“Lets go home.” she said simply, her wish was met by the breaking of locks as Leliana's skills rendered the lock useless, behind her Aldanon dispatched the guard with a single slash of his sword. Leliana broke free both their chains and Celene slunk out of the cell, realizing her freedom, she ran into Aldanon's arms, sobbing into his chest, grateful to be free. Leliana helped the Divine onto her feet and out of the cell, amazed at her own freedom.
“I'm leaving you in the company of a friend who will get you out of here.” he explained to them, “Just follow her lead and head straight south. If you spot an army, Wynne will guide you past it, it won't be hostile. I've got to stay here and fight. Good luck.” Leliana sped past him, leading Celene and the Divine. He moved ahead of them, to watch for hostile soldiers, so far there were very few of them. They made it to the cellar, Wynne would get them out to safety. Leaving the two women in Wynne's hands, he made his way to the top of the wall.

                                                                                                ++++++++++

On reaching the top of the walls, battle was joined. Alistair, Fergus, Zevran, Oghren and Durin were locked in battle against the Detrer and his patrol of chevaliers. More of the enemy was approaching as more of the castle's men saw the battle. All of the sudden, the sound of war horns from the ramparts and clunking metal arose from behind him; the portcullis was being opened. He ran to the edge of the wall; the numerous chevalier patrols were being called in. Mustering his own wits, he rushed into battle. Fergus was hard-pressed, though he had cast away his disguise, his armour was battered by many blows and he was almost at the edge. A sword pierced through the armour of his enemy, Aldanon had sundered him. With his brother at his side, Aldanon freed Alistair from his own problems, gathering momentum as he went, he freed the others but Detrer escaped again. Seeing the soldiers pour into the Keep, the group dashed for the portcullis only to be intercepted by more soldiers coming up the walls. A line of archers in the courtyard readied to fire as Aldanon and his group engaged the soldiers on the staircase. Suddenly a blizzard swept over the archers, ruining their aim and seeping into their armour, freezing them while others were hailed with arrows. Osecar and Leliana had come. Osecar called on more of his spells and reduced the charging soldiers to frozen statues or roasted corpses, but enemy mages were coming.
Aldanon could see the situation for him was growing dire, “Leliana!” he called out to her, “Fire the arrow!” She tore across the ramparts towards the south of the castle, drew one of her fire arrows, readied her bow and loosed the arrow. Like a phoenix igniting, it's fiery signal was not ignored. To the enemy's shock and Aldanon's rejoice, the Ferelden army had come. But the enemy horsemen, seeing this new threat, turned about and readied to charge. A booming voice cut across the battle of the keep and mechanical clanging erupted from the gate; the portcullis was closing. Pinpointing the device, Osecar drew in his magic and unleashed a spell at the device and it froze into stone, thus halting the portcullis from closing. Eamon realized that he had arrived too early, no sign of Tremir could be seen. The enemy horsemen gathered momentum as they charged; seeing the danger, Eamon halted the army and rallied the spearmen to the front and the archers behind. The charging chevaliers were halted by the lines of spears and hampered by the volleys of arrows, but detachments of them started to break away and circle the Fereldan army. To Aldanon's satisfaction, the moment the soldiers attempted to use the trebuchets, the machines were completely sundered from the pressure. More and more of d'Aubrac's soldiers had surfaced to engage Aldanon and his group, to prevent them from being picked off, he unified them in one of the defensive towers to prevent them from being overrun. In an effort to buy time, Osecar melted the lock, they would have to bash their way in. They waited for the moment to come, but the sound of men screaming filled the air. Confused, Aldanon beckoned Osecar to break the door down; outside, the assailant soldiers lay dead with many arrows in them. Alistair ran to the ramparts and another hail of arrows greeted him, his Juggernaut armour was enough to resist any wayward ones, when he lowered his shield he almost dropped his sword. Amidst the green and brown of the forest came the distinguishable shapes of elves. Elanea's efforts were not in vain; the Dalish had come. He looked to the east; Eamon's army was almost totally surrounded and the dead were visible from the ramparts.
“Elanea! Tell the Dalish to aid Arl Eamon! Fire on the chevaliers!” he shouted down to her. The dalish were few in number, but surpassed all other archers, they drew their bows and loosed their shafts, sending many a horseman off his mount. The keeper, an elderly male elf with long hair, directed further to the archers to continue to barrage the ramparts, removing enemy resistance from the walls. Fergus looked over towards the beleaguered army perhaps there was hope after all as d'Aubrac's forced started breaking apart. Something was charging towards both armies; the banner of the Empress's House flew in the air. General Tremir had come. His horsemen came up behind d'Aubrac's, sundering them from behind, and smaller battalions made for the entrance. Down below, one of Elanea's arrows struck straight an true as it cut through Captain Detrer's hauberk, rending him dead. Knowing that the battle may yield yet victory, Aldanon continued his rampage across the walls, destroying every man loyal to d'Aubrac. Alistair ran alongside him, the two warriors were forces of nature against all in their path. But suddenly, the arrow wound in Alistair's shoulder started twinging in pain, he stopped to nurse the wound but Aldanon had already gone. Aldanon saw the one man he wanted to kill; Claude d'Aubrac. The man looked as he did during his mutiny at the city, and escorted by the same retinue, but wielded a particular prize; King Maric's Sword.

                                                                                                ++++++++++

Raising his momentum, stamina and strength, Aldanon smote down upon d'Aubrac's retinue, scattering them in his wake. Fear pulsated in their chests, they did not expect to see Aldanon resurrected before them. The Duke himself was unnerved by seeing his nemesis alive, but sensing the urge for glory, he sent his men away.
“So, you did indeed survive.” he said dismissively, and waved Maric's Sword. “Recognise this, Fereldan scum?”
Aldanon stared back at him, defiant, “There's a reason why that sword is not meant for Orlesian hands.”
But d'Aubrac was just as undaunted. “Tell me, Cousland, do you really think you're suited to the throne?”
Aldanon's defiance broke slightly, “You should ask that question yourself, d'Aubrac, stealing your own throne.”
“Could you realistically leave the throne of the man who wielded this sword against us to yourself?” he taunted, circling him, “Rather than leave his heir to wield it? The best thing you could do for your Order and your land is lend yourself to me. Let Maric's offspring have the throne because that is what your petty nobles want.”
“Is all you have to offer taunts?” Aldanon retorted, d'Aubrac snorted in derision. “Time to give my sword back.” he raised Stafang to sweep down in an arc on his enemy's breastplate, but the weapon could do nothing to pierce it. Realising the sword was dented, d'Aubrac chuckled sinisterly, and raised the sword and met Aldanon's. The Duke's ability with sword and shield surpassed Aldanon's, blocking every blow that came his way from Aldanon, dalish arrows or Tremir's soldiers, and launching each of his blows with perfect precision. Aldanon had one advntage, however; Maric's Blade was enchanted with silverite runes, perfect for darkspawn, but otherwise ineffective against another man. He pierced Aldanon's armour, right above the stalwart breastplate and through the weaker metals guarding the shoulder, forcing down onto his knees and d'Aubrac looming over him, the pain of the magical blade surging through his body like fell fire. He cast his eyes around him to see that the pain in his body was not just d'Aubrac's wound; the enemy mages had surrounded them and formed a protective force field.
“You might want to reconsider this,” Aldanon said weakly, “Because even if you slay me, Celene will kill you.”
But d'Aubrac was unnerved, “Did you really think you could stride in here like you owned Orlais and force me to kiss your feet? I would kill you, but I want to see you become like me.” d'Aubrac seethed unrepentantly and turned sarcastic, “Hail Aldanon Cousland! The Great King of Ferelden!” incensed, Aldanon struggled to be free, but groaned in agony as his flesh pressed against the sword, his eyes flashing with rage and shouting out to him; 'I'm nothing like you'. “Then prove yourself, Cousland! What are you; usurper or steward?” their gazes were as much locked as they were in combat, but Aldanon's strength was spent. “If you truly are a steward, then you would put others before you. 'In death, sacrifice', so the warden saying goes. You will die, son of Ferelden.”

                                                                                                ++++++++++

In his despair, Aldanon lowered his head, gritting his teeth as Maric's Blade remained wrenched in his shoulder and d'Aubrac took Starfang from his faltered hands, raised it for the final blow. Suddenly a sharp buzzing of magic stung their ears, d'Aubrac turned to see the spell wavering and the mages themselves scattering before a new surge of foes. Leliana's arrows severed one at the neck, Osecar rained lightning upon another to be finished off by Durin. Alistair had called on his templar powers to dispel the shield and stun the enemy mages. Seeing his brother in peril, Fergus drew the reforged Cousland Sword, mustering his strength and precision, raised the blade to behead d'Aubrac, but the Duke's reflexes saved him, partially. For Fergus had cleaved down on d'Aubrac's shield arm, rendering it useless and almost severing it. Berserk with fury, d'Aubrac swept Starfang into Fergus' sword, the icy enchantments of the blade sparking with each strike, until he slashed the blade across Fergus' chest. Roaring in agony, Fergus doubled over, as the Diligence Armour ran tinted with his blood. As he tried in vain to stem the blood, but d'Aubrac raised the icy sword over his head. Something massive smote down through  the heavy armour and d'Aubrac keeled over in pain. Aldanon had wrenched the sword out of his shoulder and broke d'Aubrac from focus. He slashed at d'Aubrac with his remaining strength, pushing him to the edges of the keep's ramparts. He paused, holding the old sword against d'Aubrac's jugular, his enemy paces away from death. And with a single motion, slit it open. In sheer hatred for Aldanon and refusal to die, d'Aubrac still clenched Starfang as he slipped over the edge. He fell. His dark armour obscured by the fall, his body tumbling in mid-air, and his body looming over a large boulder. Starfang was loosed from his hand, the blade end tilted towards the ground, right above him. The body fell upon the boulder with an audible crash. Starfang, a blade forged from mighty star-metal and woven with powerful magics, gathered force under gravity and collided with d'Aubrac upon the boulder. An unstoppable force met an immovable object. The warriors on both sides ceased fighting to observe the cataclysm. From the power of the ice runes and the star-metal upon the rock did an almighty explosion rise from the Duke's final resting place. The outburst sundered the boulder, sending rocks into the sky to be rained down on the battlefield, the lyrium threads and ice runes released surges of magical ice and spirit power upon the enemy soldiers, freezing them in place while pure magic coursed their veins, inflicting terrible pain, finally a shockwave blasted over the keep and the lands, none could resist it's force and were cast down. Starfang ceased to exist, but in it's death throes the tide was turned. Mortally maimed by the exploding runes, and deprived of a lord and a reason to fight, the Keep's men cast down their arms, those foolhardy enough to resist quickly met their ends. In his blurred senses, Aldanon's instincts told him that the battle was won. He smiled as the forces of Ferelden and Celene raised their voices in triumph. But the pain of the wound caught up with him. He clenched his shoulder to stem the blood, leaving the one hand perilously close to the edge. He stumbled and his hand left the stone floor, in the blur he could feel hands envelop around him as he saw no more.

[Thoron Draugohtar]

Its not over already is it?! No, it can't...



What happened to Aldanon? Did Celene recover? What about the others?

[MireliA]

And down he goes again. Aldanon is having a rough ride of it. Loved the end of D'aubrac

[Ken555]

Ha! Take that d"Aubrac!

[Maximus741000]

Once more I apologise for the time taken to upload this, but I lost certainty of where to take the story. But without further ado;

Restoring Orlais

Imperial Keep was now in the hands of the Empress's army. General Tremir's men conducted a thorough sweep of the fortress, those soldiers and chevaliers lucky enough to be knocked out by the sleep bombs were made to surrender and to swear their oaths to the Empress in the absence of d'Aubrac as leader. Elanea assured Tremir on behalf of the dalish that Celene was safe within the bounds of their camp, and that their healers would help tend the wounded, both human and dalish, as d'Aubrac's soldiers were harassing the local tribe for months. To the relief of the group, Wynne had survived as well, and was eager to put her services to use. To Alistair's own personal relief, Eamon had survived as well, but an air of defeat hung on him. They lost two nobles; both Banns Sighard and Alfstanna had perished in the battle, killed when d'Aubrac's chevaliers came down on their men. Eamon concluded that Sighard's son Oswin would succeed him, but the Waking Seas would have to go to Alfastanna's templar brother, Irminric. Though he was a templar, Eamon was resolute to persuading the Divine to relieve him of his duty. What plagued Alistair's thoughts most was that now Celene would soon be restored and Ferelden could have a monarch again was whether he would be the one to succeed it. Even since his meeting with Goldanna and ever since before that, he never liked the idea of becoming king, even less by Anora's side and was content to let Aldanon take it, he appreciated that Aldanon had given him a place in the Wardens again.
“Maker's breath...” a low groan rumbled behind him as we sat in the Keep's halls, Aldanon had woken up.
“There you are,” he said cheerfully, as Aldanon nursed his head “Looks like Leliana's quick thinking saved you.”
He placed his hand from his head to his bandaged chest wound, “What happened back there? I remember killing d'Aubrac and then there was some sort of explosion, and suddenly I lost consciousness again.”
“Well, just after you'd killed d'Aubrac, an enemy mage placed a sleep spell on you and you were stumbling dangerously close to the edge, but Leliana was able to catch you and use a health poultice to help with the wound. The explosion which was the result of your sword, Starfang, colliding with a boulder and shattering-” Aldanon's head shot up, he searched his belongings to find the sword absent, and exhaled in soreness and regret.
“I lost the sword?” he asked desperately, Alistair nodded solemnly in confirmation, “What happened to it?”
“I was just getting to that part,” Alistair said testily, “its magic must have released when it crashed into that boulder outside the keep, the sheer strength of the metal combined with the other enchantments placed on it must have destroyed it. When that happened the enchantments' power was released across the battlefield.” Aldanon nodded, and looked on slightly dismayed, “Well, could be worse. Better to lose one sword than ten men, right?”
He smiled at his friend's wise words, “You're right, and at least Maric's Sword is reclaimed. Where's Leliana?”
The urgency in his voice caught Alistair by surprise, “After she mended your shoulder, she left to find Celene and the Chantry Divine to take them back to the city, she said she wanted to get back to Val Royeaux as quickly as possible, something about the elven babe, Aveline. But we're not ready to leave yet; Tremir needs to marshal the soldiers who surrendered.” Though relieved that she was not injured, he longed to see her again. With that moment of thought, the fond memories of the evening before the battle swam joyfully in his mind.
His mind abruptly jolted in memory, “Wait! Where's Fergus? Last time I saw him, d'Aubrac had injured him.”
Alistair's face became drained, “He sustained a nasty sword wound across the chest that almost ruptured his rib cage. We managed to patch him up with Wynne's help, but his state isn't great. She says he's lucky to be alive.”
Aldanon's tension eased at the mention of his brother's survival, “I owe Wynne a greater debt it seems.” he said.
“Anyway, we're almost ready to leave,” Alistair said as he got up, buckling his loose gauntlets, “make sure you've got everything, then we can go; Val Royeaux direct. Nice work with d'Aubrac.” he added cheerfully
Aldanon returned his friend's smile as he got up to leave, “Thank you, Alistair. I'll see you at the palace.”

The ride back was quiet and sombre, though the worst was over; Orlais had endured a civil war of its own as darkspawn assaulted its capital. General Tremir heartily commended Elanea for calling the dalish to their aid, and assured the tribe that they will be thanked and respected by all Orlais one day. Aldanon wondered time and again how she was able to muster them to their call. Celene's survival swiftly became a boon to the nation, and couriers bearing news of her liberation to all the villages, towns and cities throughout the land spread across Orlais like wildfire and created a ripple of joy throughout the country that was assured to be long in departure. This was certainly obvious as they passed a village southwards. The civil war had ended before it had truly begun and with Ferelden's aid. The fact of Ferelden's beneficial role surprised many within the country, but this was something Orlais would learn to accept. On the ride back, Aldanon eventually found his way to Celene at the head of the retinue. He steadied his horse to an easy pace alongside hers.
“How are you feeling, Your Majesty?” he asked politely, attempting not to provoke ill feelings or memories.
But the Empress smiled at his courtesy, “I'm still rather unnerved by the whole affair. But I'm much better now. Claude's betrayal still has me gripped in shock, Aldanon,” she murmured, shaking her head in grief, “but I could think of no one worthier to slay him than you. You have done Orlais a great service that we shall not forget.”
Aldanon smiled appreciatively. “I am glad that we were able to end his threat, this was just a bit personal after all.” he said, letting his mind wander, “I myself find myself enjoying this sort of thing; danger. Spending a year fighting across Ferelden became part of me; the risk, the fervour, the thrill, I came to enjoy it. Mad isn't it?”
She grinned at his unique mannerism, “It's not so different, I used to take thrill at the whole idea of political intrigue within the Orlesian gentry. But today has taught me that there is never too much caution in one's life”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Leliana riding further ahead of the retinue, her hair flowing freely as the wind flowed around her, “I understand, Celene, that Leliana tended to you after the battle, what did you speak of?” he asked, gesturing towards her, an affectionate smile complementing his tone as he admired her grace.
His gaze was not ignored by Celene's keen eyes, “”When she introduced herself to me, and I understood that she was an alleged criminal, but such things certainly did not matter. The past is the past. Her character and actions were the hallmarks of a more sincere, giving person. I considered her character and concluded that any crimes in the past are to be forgiven; she will always be a welcome guest in Orlais. Consider it a gift for your efforts.” Aldanon quickly turned to face her, astounded, her eyes signalled she knew something, yet they sparked with joy
“You know about us?” he asked, gesturing himself and Leliana, “Who? What? When? How?” he stammered.
Celene smiled warmly, “I'm not secluded from common knowledge, sir, and I can see love where it appears. I can see it in your tone and actions in mention of her, and I could see it in hers as well. When she speaks of you kindly, the fondness in her voice is like a hearth in winter; welcoming and warm. You must have done something to stir such strong feelings, yes?” Aldanon stammered slightly to search for the right words, but found none. But Celene smiled at his inability to express himself and simply read the fervour in his eyes. “You will eventually want to decide how to continue this romance, Aldanon, but consider your future and hers. She is in love with you.” Her horse quickened pace and left him. Though the passion and joy of last night was a fresh memory, the reality that she may indeed be in love with him did not seem wholly real. More like a dream than anything else. Could he be so in love so soon after the death of Anora? Anything rational about this objected to this, but perhaps rationality was irrelevant here; he loved her. The incredible sensation of the image of Morrigan in his heart fading away before him and Leliana taking her place proved that. He now wanted nothing else but to be with her. But how? No king could marry outside the nobility as Fergus said; he would either forfeit the throne and keep her at his side, or accept it and force their love to end. Only the Maker could decide.

To say Val Royeaux burst into joy at Celene’s return was an understatement. Despite the recently faded darkness and the dark memories, the city could not stop rejoicing. Aldanon’s horse came up alongside Celene’s guard as they entered the gateway into the city. Upon seeing the multitudes of folk storming the army, Aldanon was reminded of the moment he left the royal palace in Denerim to greet the crowds after the post-coronation ceremony dedicated to his and Ferelden’s victory; and immediately regretted those heralds and horns that sounded their return. Entire throngs of city folk crowded the returning army and entourage, cheering, chanting and singing to their joy, accompanied by the church bells of the Grand Cathedral, so much so it took all of Tremir’s chevaliers to settle the masses, and even then there was no stopping their elation. Though he was eager to get proper rest and check on Fergus, the sheer joy of all the people of Val Royeaux greeting the return of their Empress and the victors moved his heart. His companions and comrades were equally taken aback by the jubilant hosts, for Osecar, Durin and Elanea, this was something completely unknown to them and it took their breath away. They reached the threshold of Palais Royeaux, for which few could be gladder to see, and Celene took her position on the doorstep as the great crowds of people approached them, eagerly awaiting their empress.
“People of Val Royeaux,” she announced in Orlesian as soon as the noise had died down, “It is my pleasure to announce that the crisis has passed.” Cheering filled the evening air as the sun set over the towers of the city and people rejoiced. “I have never been gladder to be alive and here as your empress than I have any other day. But this man,” she gestured to Aldanon and beckoned him up, “Is the one whom we must truly thank for my life. This man has earned his place as a true hero of Orlais through his valorous deeds to our realm. This man is a Fereldan of untold valour and will be rewarded justly.” She turned to Arl Eamon, who was still in awe of their victory, “Lord Eamon, when must you take your leave?”
“We will leave as soon as our vessels have been restocked for the journey and our warriors have recuperated,” Eamon explained, “perhaps three days. But no longer, a king needs to be crowned.”
Celene turned back to the assembled crowds, “Then let it be known, that on the third day, on the eve of the Fereldans’ departure, the Hero of Ferelden will see his services to Orlais bear fruit, for few outside the land have done more for us.” The crowds met her conclusion and Aldanon with enthusiastic applause, and Aldanon could see there was no reason for fear disapproval; the people of Orlais welcomed heroes from every country. As much as he enjoyed the thrill of the crowds, his heavy temples told him that rest would be most welcome. He wondered if the others felt the same.
“Ah, Aldanon, there you are.”  General Tremir’s voice came over to him, “I trust you must be tired, I know I almost am. Perhaps you and your companions might want to retire to the palace; the steward is preparing a light meal for the evening and you may rest. I will remain here to continue business with Celene.  It’s been an honour fighting by your side.”
“It’s been an honour for me as well.” Aldanon said courteously, clasping the general’s hand, “And yes, to rest would be appreciated. Will my companions be taken care of?” Tremir nodded, and kindly gestured to the opened palace doors. Feeling the gentle warmth of the palace from the fireplaces, Aldanon saluted the general and paced inside to his rest.

The palace had lost a little of its original splendour from the day Aldanon first entered with Anora at his side, there were hallways and drawing rooms simply packed with refugees, each room invigilated by a guard, their spirits slightly raised by the return of Celene. The steward had removed a group of city people from one of the rooms, allowing Aldanon and his companions to rest; he turned to see Fergus being led upstairs, a bloody bandage covering his chest. For a long while, few words were exchanged, but Aldanon did not mind for the luxuries of the palace put his mind at ease. Until he noticed something was wrong. Leliana was missing. He looked about and got up to search the palace and noticed a letter had fallen from his lap. He picked it up from the floor, unfurled it, and noticed it bore the Steward’s signature, he read it out.
“To Lord Aldanon,
One of your lady friends, Leliana has gone to dine and socialize at the house of scholar Brother Giovanni, and will not return until late this night. You may depart for the night at any time you please, and dinner will be served at the lounge.
Business will be discussed in the afternoon, The Steward.”
He knew what the letter meant; she’d probably gone back to Giovanni to bring Aveline back. Aldanon folded the letter away, and stared longingly into the fireplace, that gleamed like Leliana’s hair in the sunlight. In his detached sense of hearing, he could make out his companions talking mildly amongst each other, of the two battles past and of smaller things. But he continued to look glumly on. A firm hand hit him hard on the shoulder; almost knocking him over, it was Geoffrey. The grey warden looked as he did when he left Aldanon’s company, clad in silverite heavy plate armour. Judging by the faded sweat marks, he’d recently seen battle. Aldanon picked himself up and clasped Geofrrey’s hand.
“Good to see you’ve returned safely, Aldanon.” He said warmly to Aldanon. “You are indeed a great warden.”
“Perhaps, but a few weeks without greatness would be appreciated, I was only one man and served in the ranks.” Aldanon replied modestly, “But if there is indeed anything that you need of me? I can leave right now, if you will.”
“It is late, and you are right to seek rest after battle,” said Geoffrey, “But there is some business to discuss; concerning the darkspawn and the Disciples. But we will discuss it tomorrow morning, before your final business with Celene.”
“I must admit, I had a close call, just before finishing d’Aubrac. I owe that victory to my friends and companions and so much more. Without them, without so much as one of them, I may not even be sitting here. They were brilliant.”
Geoffrey smiled at the other man’s heartfelt gratitude to his friends, “I’ve never met a man who’s spoken more surely about anything in his life until now.” He said favourably, “It’s been good seeing you, but I most return to Château-Gris. We will have time to discuss the future tomorrow, and bring Alistair with you. Farewell, Brother.” Both wardens saluted one another and Geoffrey left.  Dinner arrived moments later, and for just this night, formalities were excluded as the companions dined away from the table, continuing their exchange of small talk. The greater celebratory feast will come later, I suppose, Aldanon thought, as he rubbed his stomach while the grey warden insatiable hunger acted up in him.

It was nearing midnight and the celebrations had not entirely died down in the city, and Celene and Tremir remained up to regain full order in the city. In their tiredness, the companions had retired to rest. Alistair, Wynne, Osecar were led to their rooms, Alistair first. In fact, as soon as the young warden had taken off his armour and got into a set of pyjamas provided by the servants, he had already collapsed to deep sleep onto the duvet, snoring loudly. They passed Fergus’ room, which resembled a medical ward in a hospital; the pain had kept him up mostly, but seeing Aldanon’s sleepy eyes, smiled. Osecar used his magic to warm the bedclothes up before entering and burying himself underneath them. As for the dwarves; after Oghren was banished from the palace quarters for bad manners, he’d managed to find an inn with one of two available rooms. Feeling compunction for his kinsman’s plight, Durin volunteered to acquire the next room in that inn, commenting that he’d probably ruin the bedchamber anyway. Elanea’s brief contact with nature and the wilderness left her yearning to be with it again, and left for the nearest garden in the palace grounds and rested as Leliana did when she arrived in the city; beneath a tree. Allowing his subconscious dalish traits to take over, Zevran made his way to her. As Aldanon observed while he quietly followed him to her, the exotic charm of the Zevran had made its way to Elanea’s heart as she welcomed him. Yet for all that time Aldanon waited, there was no sign of Leliana’s return. Perhaps Aveline was too tired to travel or something. Laying aside any thoughts for her, he left the drawing room and made his way to his room. The palace was very dimly light by a few candles, and as he wearily followed the guiding candle light to his room, something odd struck him. A fireplace had been lit; its flames illuminated the room and made it warm and welcoming. He walked gently over to it, allowing the heat to radiate onto him. He’d long cast off his armour, leaving him in a simple, white linen shirt with light grey trousers. Just as the gentle allure of the fire drew him in, a hand placed itself on his shoulder. He jumped slightly, and turned his head to find the one woman he wanted to see; Leliana.  His breath was instantly taken away; in complement to her lively red hair was a silken gold nightdress that highlighted lissom shape and colour with perfection.
“Leliana, I-I’ve not been more amazed to see you.” He stuttered slightly, a smile bloomed on her face, “This is just-”
She gently placed her hand on his lips “You needn’t say anything, my love.” She said silkily, placing herself in front of the fireplace, gently pulling him towards it and sitting down “Aveline has been put to bed in a joint room, and I need to talk.”
He resisted the calming effect her hands had on him, “Well, fire away!” he said calmly.
“It has been some time since I left Ferelden,” she said in a restful voice. “and a very, very long time since I began my new life away from Marjolaine and left Lothering. When I stepped out of the cloister, I had no idea where my path would lead; I was uncertain if I would ever find or learn something from it after the end of the Blight. After my return to Orlais, I was even less certain of my future. I walked where the Maker led me and he has rewarded me for my faith. I found you.”
Her cordiality warmed him to the core, and even the warmth and light of the fire paled to her, “And I am glad to have found you Leliana, for too long I have been blinded by Morrigan’ spells, and now I can see, clearer now than ever before.”
She grinned and suppressed a flattered giggle. “You don’t know how it makes me feel to hear you say that.” She said warmly, placing her hand on his cheek and moving in very close.
He suddenly smiled, “Maybe not but I can certainly try. Let me guess, warm and fuzzy?” her suppressed giggle gave way.
She rose from the carpet, “But now it’s getting very late.” She said with a yawn. “I think I might turn in... I help thinking how soft and warm that bed of yours is.”
At first, Aldanon thought Osecar was playing a practical joke with his magic because he felt jolts run down his spine. He realized he was terrified and did not know what to do. Should he immediately comply? Should he try a stalling tactic and play hard to get? Did he look visibly anxious? And he still could not believe it. “Oh! Um...m-my bed did you say? ”
“Mmhmm, unless you have another bed that you can call your own in this palace?” she asked curiously.
In his confusion, he opted for the stalling tactic, “I think I’ll stay up and write in my journal.” He said casually.
Leliana’s brows shot up, “I didn’t know you had a journal. Or wrote in it regularly.” He said in surprise.
“I suppose it’s a little odd for a warrior, but tonight’s special, I want to make a really special entry.” He added smoothly.
But Leliana caught up on him, “Well, maybe you could bring it to bed and I could watch you write, I could give you suggestions.” She took on an elaborate pantomime manner, “‘Dear journal, Leliana has showed much affection for me, even come into my room and asked me to come to bed with her. But alas, subtlety is lost on me.’”
This was of course meant as a tease, but it was time to desert it, “Oh, my dear, it never was lost on me. I do get it.”
“Good, now let us enjoy the night while it lasts, lest I lose my patience.” She said conclusively, wrapping her arms around him.
Aldanon chuckled and wrapped arms his around her waist, their firm grip taking hold. “Dearest Leli, your patience has paid off.” Without a moment’s notice, his strength sent her flying from the ground within his arms, she exclaimed, startled, breathing heavily from the thrill of the motion and fixed her deep blue eyes with Aldanon’s verdant ones. Their lips met in the kiss, their head swam passionately as their hands caressed over one another’s body and wrestled for control of the motion on the carpet. In time, impulse gave way to comfort, and Aldanon swept her from the carpet, her limbs dangling purposefully, exposing her lithe features. They reunited within the bed; fervency was reaching peak levels as Aldanon removed her dress and disappeared in their affectionate courtship of love and slipped deeper within as instinct took over.

Modifié par Maximus741000, 02 mai 2010 - 10:48 .

[Ken555]

Yay! True love for Aldanon at last.

[MireliA]

  I suppose I should say something else other than a smiley but...

[Imperator_Valentine]

Just wanted to say: Still following and enjoying every bit of it!

[Awildawn]

So Maximus, is this story officially over ? It sounds like it so congrats, it was a very moving read. I felt like I missed something by not playing DaO with a Cousland and your story would have made a fine addition to the mythos

Something like your story = the expansion and a reaaaalllly more fleshed out awakening story for dao 2 would have meshed together alright, and not only because you provided an explanation for the loss of Starfang .

[Maximus741000]

I'm glad you've been able to catch up, Awildawn, and that you find it a worthy addition to the mythos. : )

But this isn't the actual end of the story. Exams are becoming my first priority and there's not much time for the tale. But it will end when Aldanon returns to Ferelden, but until then I will not be writing much. Thank you for keeping contact!