91 réponses à ce sujet

[Freckles04]

Aww...thanks. So...you liked the kiss, Sisi? Are you sure?

[Sandtigress]

Hehe, there goes Alistair with his inadvertent innuendo again...



Loved the chapter. You have this way of combining romance and drama and cuteness so that I don't know if I should be squeeing or awwing or holding my breath....I just know it would be awkward to try and do all those things at once. :-P

[Freckles04]

Sandtigress wrote...

Hehe, there goes Alistair with his inadvertent innuendo again...

Loved the chapter. You have this way of combining romance and drama and cuteness so that I don't know if I should be squeeing or awwing or holding my breath....I just know it would be awkward to try and do all those things at once. :-P

Wow. That's quite the compliment! Thank you! 

I will endeavour to continue to combine those three things in just the right quantities. Lots of drama upcoming. The Landsmeet is next...any guesses on what Kiann will decide to do?

[Jules8445]

Bah...I don't want to think about her doing anything other than supporting Anoura and living happily ever after with Alistair. It makes my stomach clench up to think that she would do anything to keep her and Alistair apart. They just figured everything out! Well...sort of.

She didn't choose the, "Hardening" conversation option after meeting Goldana...so maybe it'll all end happy like I want it to. >.<

I also love the unintentional innuendo...so very Alistair. You write him very well.

Can't wait for more! Hope it comes out how I want it to.

[Miri1984]

Beautiful. Just beautiful.

[Treason1]

Considering Kiann's track record up until now, I foresee heartache and potential death on the horizon.



From what I can decipher from what she has shown of her mentality, she suffers from a great amount of low-self esteem, at least where her personal life is concerned. She will either push Alistair into being King as she believes that he will be a good one and due to her belief she does not believe she deserves "happiness" or "a break" or that she'll just screw it up, ooor she'll support Anora because of 1) After seeing Orzammar, she's more aware of the noisome political and cut-throat atmosphere of politics and is unsure if she wants to submit Alistair to that, despite her belief in his ability to handle it, or 2) she wants "someone at her back." Period.

[Miri1984]

I have an idea of where it's going to go and I HOPE I AM WRONG. Please, please let me be wrong.





....please?

[Kulkodar]

Delicious! Loving this tale, Freckles The whole scene in the Tavern was really well done. But on a lighter note, I Agree with Sisi about that kiss, oh my hells yes!

[Freckles04]

Thanks for your speculation, all. I like seeing what people think is going to happen.

You'll just have to wait and see...

[Freckles04]

Decree

With the evidence we gathered, I hoped we had enough to convince Anora to support us against her father, but she played the game much better than I.  Maker…I barely even knew there was a game.  Upon our return to the estate, Eamon informed me that the Queen wished to have a discussion with me alone.  I ventured into her room to speak with her and she proposed a deal:  her support for mine.  If I allowed her--Andraste's mercy, now there was a concept, me allowing her--to stay Queen, she would see to it that we had the help we needed to defeat the Blight.  I murmured my agreement to the arrangement, even as confusion and uncertainty swirled through my mind. 

Was Anora the best choice for Ferelden?  I knew nothing of her, except what I saw in her eyes:  ambition, determination, strength, and more than a little ruthlessness.  I supposed that was what was needed to navigate the political intrigue inherent in running a country, but what if I was wrong?  Eamon had hinted broadly that Theirin blood was needed to keep Ferelden whole and intact, though he hadn't had time to go into details.  What if Eamon was right and Ferelden would fracture without Alistair?

The way Eamon deferred to me, to some extent, and now the Queen--didn't they know I was no one?  Why by Andraste's ever-burning pyre did they think I should have any say in the political fate of Ferelden?  I was just a mage. Take away my magic and I was just a girl, thrown into situations I didn't understand and trying to do my best to do the right thing.

I truly doubted my best was good enough.

"So," Alistair greeted me as I returned to the Arl's study.  Eamon was nowhere in evidence, and nor was Riordan, the Orlesian Grey Warden we'd rescued from Arl Howe's dungeon.  "I saw Anora earlier.  I guess someone told her I was going to steal her throne.  She gave me a nasty glare."

"It wasn't me, so you can stop with that look."  I crossed my arms and leaned against one of the bookshelves lining the walls.

"It's nearly upon us, isn't it?"  He puffed up his chest and deepened his voice dramatically.  "The moment of truth.  The moment of reckoning.  The moment of--"

"Must you always joke about these things?"

"Well…yes."  He gave me a sheepish grin.  "Would you prefer I vomit?  Because, honestly, it's a toss up between those two reactions.  I thought you'd opt for the jokes instead, but…"

A laugh snorted out of me. 

A deeper emotion entered his face, more than just the self-deprecating humor that was always close at hand.  "It's good to hear that again.  You laughing, I mean.  Kiann--"

Maker, he was going to talk about the kiss.  I could see it in his eyes, and--and I couldn't entertain any thoughts about that, not yet.  Not now, maybe not later.  "Eamon and Anora seem to think I'll have a say at the Landsmeet."

He arched a brow, but went along with my change of subject.  "And why wouldn't you?  You're the reason Ferelden is united."

"You have seen my ears, right?  How pointy they are?"

"What--pointed ears?  Maker's breath.  Are you telling me you're an elf?"  His eyes widened in feigned shock.

I nodded solemnly.  "And a mage."

"Well, that explains the tingles."  His cheeks reddened.  "Er…that sounded odd.  From the magic, I mean.  Magic tingles."

"Magical tingles?" 

"No…to templars, magic itself tingles--never mind."  He sighed.  "Yes, I know you're an elf and a mage, and at this point, I don't think it matters.  You've proven yourself to the nobility and they'll listen to you.  Unless you try to put yourself forth as Queen.  That might be a problem."

"Yes, me as Queen.  There's a marvelous idea."  I rolled my eyes.  "I can barely hold together a group of seven people and a dog.  I've no interest in trying my hand at running a country."

"You and me both."

"Good."  I took a breath.  "Because I've agreed to support Anora."

"Really?"  Something flickered in his eyes, there and gone so quickly I couldn't really identify it.  Disappointment?  No, that didn't make sense.  "I'm…relieved, actually.  Eamon would likely fall back into a coma if you told him, but me…I'm relieved to hear it."

"Truly?"

His lips curved.  "Truly.  Now, let's move on to more pleasant topics, shall we?  About earlier--"

"Ah, Warden."  Eamon strode into the study, a smile emerging from beneath his massive grey beard.  "I see you've returned.  Might I have a word?"

I shot Alistair an apologetic look, but secretly I thanked the Maker for the Arl's interruption.  I followed Eamon out of the study, to the library, where he took one of the seats in front of the fire and bade me to do the same.

"Did you have a chance to speak with Anora, Warden?" 

Right to the meat of the matter, then.  "I did."

"And did she ask for your support in the Landsmeet?"

I regarded the Arl carefully.  He returned my consideration evenly.  "She did," I said after a moment.

"I see.  I won't ask what you told her.  I will simply share this."  One of Eamon's hands stroked his beard absently as he watched the fire.  "Calenhad, the Silver Knight--Alistair's ancestor--united Ferelden four hundred years ago.  It is because of him that we have a country instead of warring teyrnirs, each striving for supremacy and ultimately weakening each other.  The legacy he wrought is what we fought to preserve during the Orlesian occupation."  He turned his eyes to me.  "You're too young to remember that, aren't you?"

"Yes, your grace."  I inclined my head.  "Though I've heard stories."

The Arl's lips twisted and his eyes darkened.  "Stories don't do it justice, lass.  Ferelden was enslaved for nearly a century, under horrible, brutal conditions.  Nobles turned on nobles, citizens on citizens, all to try to save what little heritage we had left.  It was Maric, Alistair's father, who rallied the country after the death of the Rebel Queen.  He was just a boy at the time, a bit younger than you, I believe, but he knew what had to be done to free his nation.  He faced terrible hardships, terrible decisions, all to ensure that the Theirin blood could once again claim the true Ferelden throne."  He met my eyes again, and his shone with a passion, a pride, I hadn't seen before.  "That is the blood that runs through Alistair's veins, Warden.  The blood of heroes.  The blood that saved this nation.  We fought tirelessly during the occupation to restore that blood to its rightful place, and, as long as one of Maric's sons lives, his place is at the head of the country.  Do you understand?"

"But…"  I swallowed.  "Alistair doesn't want to be King."

The Arl closed his eyes and his head drooped.  "And that is my fault, I fear.  Maric wanted the boy raised out of court, away from politics, and so he was placed in my care.  He was never to know of his heritage; but boys will be boys, and the lad figured it out at one point.  I never did discover how--perhaps he overheard me talking with Teagan.  Maker knows.  Once he did know, however, I had to make sure he understood that ruling the country was not in his future.  We did not want him used as a political pawn by any
nobles who did not agree with Cailan's governance.  So I trained him to be averse to the idea, and, when he was old enough, we sent him to the Chantry so that the throne would never be a consideration for him."

"You've never given him a choice in anything, have you?"

His lips thinned.  "I wish it could have been different, as did Maric.  But the life of a noble, particularly of royal blood, rarely allows for such frivolities as deciding to do what you want instead of what you're required to do.  Alistair has a duty, Warden, to take up his father's throne.  It's in his blood, and blood won't be denied."

That looked that flashed over his face when I'd told him I was supporting Anora--did he truly want the throne?  Was he telling me he didn't for my sake?

"But enough.  Did you discover anything useful in the Alienage?"

I nodded absently, my mind still whirling with the idea that Alistair might actually want to be King, and he was lying to me about it.  "Loghain was allowing Tevinter slavers to take elves from the Alienage."

"Maker's mercy.  Slavery?"  The Arl's eyes narrowed.  "I should be appalled, but part of me is glad for this information.  It's one more dent in his armor.  I'll send word for the nobles to gather for the Landsmeet, then."

"What--now?"  My heart stuttered.

"Now.  Bring Alistair to the Palace, and let's have this done."

###

We walked into the meeting of Ferelden's nobility covered in blood.  I could feel it drying on my face, and in the hush that surrounded our appearance in the center of the room, I could hear it dripping from the tip of my sword to the stone and wood beneath our feet.  Ser Cauthrien would not back down, despite my best efforts to convince her of Loghain's treachery.  She'd attacked, and Alistair and I had defended ourselves--and, Maker, I was so tired of all of this needless death.

A handful of words had barely burst from Loghain's lips before I grasped exactly why he was so popular.  Despite his harsh features, he easily captivated everyone in the Landsmeet.  His voice rang with truth--whether it was actually the truth, what he believed, or what he wanted the nobility to believe, was irrelevant.  His was a voice that could compel the injured to fight, or enemies to switch sides, or friends to turn on one another.  And suddenly I understood why Eamon had insisted on gathering evidence of Loghain's vile actions rather than just trying to argue against him.

We presented our case:  the torture of a captured noble and the poisoning of Eamon.  I opened my mouth to add the accusations of slave trading to the pile, but the regent interrupted me with a demand to see his daughter.  Almost as if she'd been listening for her cue--and perhaps she had been--Anora appeared and denounced her father.

And just as quickly as that, the decisions were cast, and we stood victorious.  Loghain challenged the ruling, and the Landsmeet declared that a duel was required to finalize the outcome.  I could not deny Alistair the chance to visit some measure of vengeance on the man who'd killed Duncan, so I proclaimed him my champion.  The duel was fought, but I could see in Loghain's movements that he knew his time was done.  I felt no surprise when the regent fell to one knee, breathing heavily.

"I yield," he rasped as he threw his weapons to the ground, then regained his feet.  "There's some of Maric in you, after all."

"Forget Maric," Alistair spat, his eyes narrowed.  "This is for Duncan."

He glanced at me, as if for confirmation that he was doing the right thing.  I turned my gaze to Loghain.  How many lives had this man ruined in his misguided attempt to save the country from an imagined threat?  Not just the men and women killed at Ostagar, but their families, and the citizens fighting against each other in the Bannorn, and the poor folk of Redcliffe. 

The Wardens.  Duncan.  I'd never wanted to be a Warden--I still didn't know if it was for me--but they didn't deserve Loghain's treachery.  Alistair didn't deserve to lose the one place he'd belonged.

I jerked my chin in an abrupt nod.

Alistair stepped forward and carried out justice.

###

"So, it's been decided," Eamon declared, his voice ringing throughout the hall.  "Alistair will take his father's throne."

"Wait, what?  No.  No one's decided anything!"  Alistair waved his hands in front of him, as if to ward off Eamon's words.  "Have they?"

"He refuses it.  Everyone here has heard him," Anora crowed.  "He abdicates in favor of me."

The Arl sighed and shook his head.  "I hardly think you're the best part to mediate this dispute, Anora.  Warden!  Will you aid us?"

My gaze dropped to my feet.  Maker.  It had come to this:  little Kiann Surana, mage, Grey Warden, solver of problems various and sundry, deciding who would rule the country.  I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all, but I feared if I did, I might never stop.

My eyes darted from Anora to Alistair.  The agreement I'd made with Anora flitted through my mind; the discussion I'd had with Eamon weighed heavily on it.  And somewhere in there as well was the talk I'd had with Alistair when I'd awoken to find him in my tent, anxious to apologize; and the flash of darkness in his gaze when I'd informed him of my plan to support Anora.

Then I thought of Duncan.  And my decision became blindingly clear.

[Sandtigress]

I hate you. :-P



No, that's not true, but you can't end it there!!!!!!!!!!!!! I can see her going either way, and I MUST know what she's going to choose!

[Freckles04]

Sandtigress wrote...

I hate you. :-P

No, that's not true, but you can't end it there!!!!!!!!!!!!! I can see her going either way, and I MUST know what she's going to choose!

Awesome. THAT is exactly what I wanted.

**whistles innocently**

[Sandtigress]

lol You can hide those devil horns behind your halo all you want - we're on to you!!!



And I liked all the inadvertent innuendo. :-P He's so good at that!

[Miri1984]

Why is she thinking of Duncan??? Aaaaarrrrrrrgggggghhhhh I can't stand it! MOOOOOOAAAAAARRRR!!!!

[Treason1]

Hmm...In all Freckles other stories, Alistair ends up being King.



Will this one be different? I honestly can't tell.

[Sisimka]

I lack a civil response.... (post today or else!)

Um, and yes, I am fully aware I have done just as bad... or possibly worse.

[Freckles04]

I'm evil. Yes, I am.

@Sandi: Hehe, glad you like the inadvertent innuendo. I had fun with the "magical tingles" bit.

@Miri: Why, indeed?

@Treason: That is true. Alistair looks mighty fine in gold armor.

@Sisi: YES MA'AM! Working on it now, ma'am!

Thanks for your comments, all.

[Freckles04]

Approach

I inhaled deeply and stared at the floor for a moment before raising my eyes and my voice.  "Anora will rule."

Alistair blinked.  Then a wide smile bloomed on his face.  "She will?"

"Thank you, Warden."  Reaffirmed in her role as Queen, the blonde woman stepped forward.  "My first act must be to insist that Alistair renounce his claim to the throne, for himself and his heirs."

"Yes!" the templar declared.  "Of course.  Happily, even." 

Oh, Maker, it was difficult to keep a straight face when he beamed at me like that.  I longed to take his hand in mine, but now was not the time nor the place for that kind of display.  Anora stepped forward and rallied the nobles with a quick speech, declaring me the commander of her armies. 

My stomach clenched.  That was something we hadn't discussed.  I supposed I shouldn't be surprised, but--dear Maker.  A mage leading an army?

"We will fight this Blight," she shouted, "and we will defeat it, for we are Ferelden!"

The nobles cheered their Queen loudly and vigorously, and my nerves settled somewhat.  Until I caught a glimpse of Eamon's glowering face.  But the nobility began to disperse, and the Arl was quickly swept into the crowd.

"Kiann."

I turned at my name to find Alistair still smiling stupidly at me.  "You didn't make me King," he said, his voice stunned.  "Loghain was brought to judgment, and I didn't need to be King to do it.  I--I just--"

I caught my lower lip between my teeth.  "Are you--you're not mad about that, are you?"

"Yes, I'm terribly furious, which is why I'm grinning from ear to ear.  Maker's breath, woman."  He laughed.  "That has hung over my head my entire life, and now, it's gone.  I'll never have to worry about it again.  I can just be who and what I was meant to be.  Not Alistair Theirin, bastard son of Maric the Savior, but just plain old Alistair, Grey Warden."

"So…"  I took a deep breath.  "You're really all right with that?"

"Yes!"  The affirmation burst out of him as rushed forward to enfold me in a hug.  "Thank you, Kiann.  A thousand thank-yous."  He brushed a metal-gloved hand against my cheek, and the tang of it filled my nostrils.  I closed my eyes, and he pressed his lips to mine.

This kiss was sweet, not rushed.  His mouth nudged mine, asking permission for the caress and receiving it gladly.  My lips parted and warmth spread through me as he groaned.  After a lifetime, he pulled away.

"Thank you," he whispered again.  "But--why?"

"Duncan."  A rueful smile quirked my lips and I shook my head.

"You didn't think Duncan would have wanted me to be King?"  He frowned.

"Well…okay, that's a valid point.  But no, that wasn't my reasoning.  It's pretty simple.  Duncan forced me into a life I didn't want, and I couldn't do the same to you."

"A life you didn't want."  Alistair's smile faded, as did the joyous light in his gaze.  "Even after all--even after--"  He pressed his lips together.  "You don't want this?"

Something in his tone of voice warned me that I was treading on unsteady ground.  "I…don't know.  It's not something I ever expected--"

"So therefore it must be horrible, awful, and fought against for the rest of your life."

I gritted my teeth.  "Don't put words in my mouth, templar."

"And there you go with the templar thing again.  For the hundredth time, Kiann, I was never a full templar!"  He growled in frustration.  "You are going to be the death of me."

"No," I said, my ire dissipating.  "Never that."

"You are the most frustrating, irritating, irrational woman I have ever met."  Alistair ran a gauntleted hand through his short hair, making the spikes at the front even more uneven.  "Whenever I'm around you, my head feels like it's about to explode, and I can't tell if it's because you infuriate me or--"  His voice calmed.  "Or something else."

"Warden."  My eyes darted to the Queen as she approached.  "So, it is done.  My father is dead.  He was mad, and he needed to make amends for what he'd done, but…I wish there had been another way."

I looked at the floor, the pain in Anora's voice and eyes too much to bear.  For an instant, I wondered what would have occurred if I had dueled Loghain.  Would I have been able to execute him?  Maker, would we even be standing here?  I would not regret Alistair's actions; I couldn't.  There was already too much on my shoulders.

She cleared her throat.  "At any rate, Arl Eamon asked me to tell you that he will be departing for Redcliffe immediately.  The armies are gathering there to prepare for battle in the south.  You should not delay in joining him."

"No, certainly not, your Majesty."  I crossed my arms over my chest and bowed.

"I will see you at Redcliffe, then, Warden."  Her lips pressed into a thin line.  "Maker light our path."

###

My small band of companions marched to Redcliffe a few hours behind Arl Eamon and his retinue of soldiers.  During our trek, I spent some time with each of my friends, talking about nothing.  Each one of us knew that the horizon was approaching, the vanishing point nearly upon us.  Chances were good that we would not all survive, despite being ridiculously awesome, as Zev put it.

I glanced at Alistair, dreading talking with him and yet longing for it with every fiber in my body.  But the road was not the place for the conversation I wanted to have, and when we camped I was more concerned with replenishing my energy through food and sleep than expending it in a discussion, the mere thought of which set my stomach to clenching and my palms to sweating.

We arrived in Redcliffe village on the third day to discover it overrun with darkspawn.  Thankfully, the majority of villagers had fled to the castle before the horde had appeared.  My team and I waded into the fray, destroying every genlock, hurlock and ogre in our path, both in the village proper and the courtyard of the castle.  Once the creatures had been vanquished, we were ushered into the main hall to meet with the Arl, Bann Teagan, the Queen, and Riordan.

"I'm glad to see you uninjured."  The Orlesian Grey Warden greeted Alistair and I with a slight bow and a tiny curve to his lips.  His accented voice soothed my nerves.

"You as well, Riordan," Alistair returned.  "What news do you bring?"

"Dire news, I'm afraid."  The slight smile fell and his bright blue eyes darkened.  "The darkspawn that attacked Redcliffe were relatively few in number.  The majority of the horde marches on Denerim.  They look to reach the city in two days."

"Maker's blood," Teagan gasped.

"But--"  I frowned and shook my head.  "Are you sure?  Why did we think they were coming here?"

"I ventured close enough to the horde to 'listen in', as it were, so yes, I am sure of its destination."  Riordan crossed his arms.  "Most of the attacks had been in the south, and a large group had split off to assault this area.  We assumed that it was a precursor to the rest of the horde, not a distraction.  And…"  He took a deep breath.  "I'm afraid I have other, more troubling news."  He turned to regard the fire behind him.  "The archdemon has shown itself.  It flies at the head of the horde."

"Maker preserve us," Anora whispered.

"But we can't reach Denerim in two days, can we?"  Horror filled Alistair's voice.

My mind spun as I tried to think of ways we could prevent the impending disaster.  "What if--what if we just took a small group?  A few people could reach Denerim much faster than an entire army."

Riordan shook his head.  "I'm afraid that won't work.  There is still the horde between us and the archdemon, and a small group will not make it through on its own.  We need the army to engage the horde, distract it, and then we can infiltrate to reach the dragon."

An awful sense of inevitability wound through me.  Denerim would fall.  Thousands of people would die.  I closed my eyes and sent a brief prayer to Andraste.

"Then we need to march as soon as possible," the Queen declared.  "Arl Eamon, when can the army begin to move?"

Despair lined the Arl's eyes.  "Daybreak, your Majesty."

Anora nodded.  "Daybreak it is, then."

"Kiann, if you and Alistair would meet with me before you retire for the evening, we have Grey Warden business to discuss."  Riordan inclined his head and bowed to the Queen.  "Your Majesty, your grace."

I watched the senior Grey Warden leave with a sinking sensation in my stomach.  Whatever he wanted to discuss, it wasn't good news.

###

We retreated to our rooms, briefly, to change out of our battle-stained armor.  It felt odd to wear my old mage robe again, the one I'd received after my Harrowing.  I felt almost like I'd come full circle; almost, but not quite.  I wasn't the same Kiann who had romped through the Tower with Jowan.  I wasn't even the same Kiann who had left with Duncan.  But I was Kiann.

I stared at the black and gold armor on its stand in the corner of my room.  The burnished griffon gleamed in the firelight and I reached out to trace one of its pinions with a fingertip.  Purpose.  That's what being a Grey Warden had given me.  Was that so bad?  Did I really have to fight against that?  Maybe it was time I stopped sulking about that choice being taken away from me.  I'd done…all right as a Grey Warden, I supposed.  I'd succeeded in all of the tasks laid before me thus far, despite the horrible events I'd endured.  I'd lived up to the Wardens' ideal:  I'd done what I must.

Pulling my hand back to my side, I gave my head a little shake.  Now was not the time for thoughts as deep as those.  I needed to speak with Riordan.

Alistair awaited me outside of the senior Warden's room.  He wore his plain linen shirt and thick breeches, the skin of his face pink, like he'd given it a good scrubbing.  As I approached, he reached out and gripped my hand, then brought it to his lips.

"There you are."  His eyes lingered on mine.  "Let's go see what Riordan has to say, shall we?"

He released my hand and waved for me to proceed him into the room.  Riordan stood rigidly, lost in thought, his head bowed.  At our footfalls, he straightened.  "Tell me," he said by way of greeting, "do you know why Grey Wardens are needed to end the Blight?"

I blinked.  It had never really occurred to me.  "I assumed it was because of our skill in battling the darkspawn."

"If that were the case, lass, anyone with enough skill to swing a sword would suffice."  The senior Warden's light eyes glittered.  "I had hoped Duncan would have told you, but I suppose there wasn't time, was there?  I should have told you this as soon as you rescued me in Denerim, and for that, I am sorry."

"What is it?"  Alistair stepped forward.  "What are you apologizing for?"

"An archdemon can be slain like any other darkspawn," Riordan said.  "But the essence of the Old God will simply travel through the taint to the nearest darkspawn and be born anew.  Thus the archdemon is all but immortal.

"If a Grey Warden slays the dragon, however, the essence of the Old God travels into the Warden.  Since a man is not a soulless vessel, the archdemon cannot be reborn.  Its essence is destroyed…along with the Grey Warden."

The air rushed out of my lungs.  In death, sacrifice.  Maker. 

"So…you're saying that the Grey Warden who kills the archdemon…dies?"  Alistair looked as shocked as I felt.

Riordan's lips thinned as he nodded.  "I'm afraid so."

My eyes darted to the templar, the planes of his face highlighted by the fire smoldering in the room's fireplace.  In my mind's eye, I could see him racing toward the dragon, sword and shield held high as he screamed his defiance.  Pain ripped through me.  I could not--I would not--lose him.  I would rather meet the Maker myself.

"I'll do it."  My words rang through the small room, my tone unwavering.

"Andraste's ass you will," Alistair snapped.

Riordan held up a hand.  "It does my heart good to hear such bravery.  However, I am the oldest, and the task should fall to me if at all possible.  The taint will not spare me for much longer.  But enough.  There will be time enough to think about this on the morrow.  You should try to get some rest."

Rest, he said, as though any of us would be able to sleep.  Alistair and I left the room together, but I marched ahead, toward my room.  I couldn't face him just yet.

"Kiann!"

My steps paused.  "I need--" 

"Come see me.  When you can."  His voice was low.  "Please."

I nodded, and continued to my quarters.

[Sandtigress]

Uh oh. I wonder if this will end happily.....cause one way to do that is to let Alistair lose his virginity to the swamp witch. :-P Not sure any of us wants that! Kiann, go see Alistair before you go back to your room!

[Jules8445]

*wibble wibble wibble wibble* I don't like the sound of this. The thing is...she swore she'd never let him die. So that only leaves two possibilities. I say let the swamp thing have him! What was it all for, otherwise?! :-D

I love it when fics make me emotional enough to rant. Beautiful work as always.

[Treason1]

Very interesting. I think this is one of all but two re-tellings I have read where Alistair is not made King.



What will happen next, I wonder? Will there be another change and we see Kiann die? Or will it be Alistair, instead? Will the Swamp Witch get her way?



Stay tuned, next time!

[Freckles04]

Thanks for the comments, all. I hope I still have some surprises in store for you...

[Sisimka]

Thank you.

[Freckles04]

Sisimka wrote...

Thank you.

You're welcome?

[Miri1984]

Oooooh. I predict a blazing row is about to occur, with possible steamy bits of some description, and a death.



I love the fact that Kiann is so conflicted - someone else mentioned it before - that most of our warden's are so sure of themselves and their decisions but she really wouldn't be where she was without Alistair to back her up - their a perfect match.



If they both survive I wonder if she'll be warden commander, or if she'll let Alistair take the job? Mmmm.



I'm with Sisimka, by the way, thanks for not making him king!