Author's Note: So, here we are. After much blood, sweat and tears, the first posting of my brand new fan fiction. Before anything else, I want to thank from the bottom of my heart Breilana and Kira Tamarion who have so generously given of their time and agreed to help me beta this project. Without them, most of this would not flow as easily as it does. They are fabulous and I owe them much.
Now, a couple of notes before you dig in (if this is your type of dish). Firstly, the story is greatly alternate reality – I have changed more than one HUGE thing to make it work – so if you are a fan of strictly canon fanfic, this might not be for you.
Secondly, although the story chronicles the coming together of Zevran and the Warden, it will heavily feature one original character. (and a few minor ones later on) Once more, if this isn't your cup of tea you might want to check out something different. If you're still here (and I hope you are) get ready – and prepare to suspend all Dragon Age canon! Enjoy!
LCailan
"It is said some lives are linked across time...they are connected by an ancient calling that echoes through the ages...destiny." -Prince Of Persia, The Sands Of Time
Prologue (post Landsmeet)
They walked amidst lush greenery, the afternoon sunlight gracing them with its warmth. Two people, hand in hand. She wore a simple yet beautiful blue gown and he gazed upon her every few moments when she wasn't looking. Cinnamon colored eyes shone with clear devotion to her.
His thumb traced over her delicate hand, as if gently reminding her of whom she belonged to, and when the breeze picked up slightly, his fingers tucked a fiery red curl behind her tiny ear with the utmost tenderness.
Here in this greenery, away from the hustle of life, she wasn't the daughter of a Teryn and he wasn't just months from his coronation as the new king of Ferelden. She was just Lucia Cousland and he was Alistair Theirin (the bastard prince, as she so affectionately called him.) How they had arrived at this idyllic moment had not been easy. Death, pain, sorrow, regret and uncertainty all lay in their past, and most likely in the future as well, for such was life. But for now, they had each other, and that would be enough.
She stopped by a blue green pond, gazing out at it with thoughtful silence and he stood behind her, always her guardian. When she moved to sink into the grasses lining the water's edge, he was there to offer his hand, even though there was no need. She allowed it, knowing his intention was born of what they had been through, and not her helplessness. He did it, knowing she was stronger than he, but wanting to do this for her, because it was one small way in which he showed his love, and his silent promise to always be there for her.
They sat along the banks of the pond, mostly in silence, hands still linked, and their words so soft that no passerby would have heard their conversation. Her bright green eyes were turned up in his direction as she gazed with affection at his handsome face, and her hand came up to caress his cheek. He blushed, his eyes shining with love. They were close - a closeness known only by two who had been through everything and come out on the other side mostly whole. Mostly sure of what was to come, and ready to face it together.
She rested against him, her back to his front, and when she tipped her face up with a smile upon her mouth at something he had just said, his own mouth claimed hers in a gentle yet passionate kiss. In those few precious seconds they were lost to everything else, knowing only each other. It was a perfect snapshot of peace and contentment in an imperfect, turbulent world.
The Landsmeet had been called - Loghain and all those who followed him had perished. All there was left to do was slay the archdemon and then Alistair would face the throne and take on all the responsibility that came with it. He was a man, afraid but confident that with her at his side, he would succeed. She was everything he was not; they were two halves of one whole. She had been at his side through everything - and he intended to finally claim her as his own, and this time forever.
Her eyes widened in delight and a smile dimpled her rosy cheeks when he bashfully declared his intentions, stumbling over his words in the dashingly endearing way he had the night they had first spent together. He told her of his love, and of forever, no matter what came. The white diamond ring glinted in the joyous sunlight, sparkling on her finger as she accepted it and his eager and fumbling kisses. The moment seemed perfect - neither knew of what was to come - and even though she hesitated for a split second, she knew that this was her destiny.
She would be Queen along side a man who loved her in ways no other ever had. A good, gentle man. She loved him in spite of telling herself she never would. She loved him even though when he had first shown his interest, she had laughed. Now, everything was different - it would be a new beginning for both of them. Their joy gave birth to excitement and they decided on a wedding shortly after the impending coronation. They would slay the archdemon and with the end of the Blight, they could start their new life together.
In that moment, love blinded them, the sun warmed them and it seemed impossible that anything horrible could happen. They did not know of the sacrifice they would be asked to make or of how vital Morrigan would become to ensuring their happiness. Indeed, they knew nothing of the future and of the secrets that it hid.
They were simply two people looking forward together, hand in hand, finally hoping for a future as beautiful as their engagement day.
o-o
CHAPTER ONE
-Antiva City (Post Landsmeet)
o-o
o-o
A man stood staring out at the Amaranthine Sea as it rolled into Rialto Bay, the waves crashing against the obviously man-made seawall on the eastern side of Antiva City. His dark green eyes took in the churning, almost vicious, waters. Here and there he could see slight erosion caused by the sea water and each crashing wave erupted into a fine mist which he could feel upon his face as he breathed in the heavy, salty air. It was peaceful – the sound lulling him into a fake sense of calm, which he had not felt since his arrival in the splendid coastal city.
Beyond his view the horizon expanded forever, the sky a rainbow of oranges, pinks and blues as the sun set along it slowly. To his left he could see the sparkling sandy beaches that made up the coast and behind him lay Antiva City - the glittering jewel of Thedas and Antiva's pride. As he turned to take in the distant city, the sea breeze ruffled graying red brown hair. He realized he felt more alone now than he had in ages.
He was glad though, that he had chosen this place as a meeting spot – Highever had was not a large town – and he was not used to the hustle and bustle of the bigger cities. Though used to traveling because of political reasons, he never found it pleasurable. He had been a great warrior during the Orlesian occupation, and a popular man (many had believed he should have been King instead of Cailan Theirin) but the truth was that Bryce Cousland would have rather planted his roots in Highever and stayed there forever. That was where his family had been, where his home was. Leaving there had been a mistake that he would pay for indefinitely. The Maker had punished him for his weak will and wandering eye.
The sound of the massive waves crashing against the heavy stone seawall broke his concentration, and once again Bryce was in awe with the splendor of nature. It distracted him from the reason for his visit. Fear of what was to come had stopped him many times in the past – but this time it had to be done. For the sake of his family name, and for the future. He had already destroyed too much by his mistakes and his lies. It was time to stand up to his past. And hence, he stood on the edges of the sea, turning away from Antiva City once more.
"They told me that the Teryn of Highever was to pay me a visit," said a deep voice behind Bryce, startling him. The accent was sharp and heavy.
Bryce turned from the hypnotic waves to face his companion. The taller man who had just arrived gave him a smile, his teeth white in the falling darkness.
"Your grace," he greeted, swooping down gracefully to the ground in respect.
Bryce felt a flutter of guilt in his stomach as he watched Renaldo Alfieri bow down before him.
"Rise, Ser." His voice caught in his throat. "There should be no formalities between us." He assured hurriedly.
There was a hint of a sour smile on Alfieri's face as he stood up to his full height – towering over Bryce.
"No, under the circumstances, there should not."
His silky voice held hints of disdain.
Bryce realized how the time had flown as he gazed upon Alfieri. The man still stood tall and regal, and his face was still tan and healthy, though now age was showing. But his dark hair and thick beard were still the same – age had not touched them. And his eyes – for a man with such dark coloring, Bryce had always wondered at the lightness of his eyes. They were the color of finest the coffee touched by cream, vivid and bright in a darkened face, just as Lucia's eyes were as radiant as sparkling jewels.
The sun had now set completely, leaving the world in a dusky blanket, and the sea beyond them faded into blackness. It left Bryce cold and lonely.
"It has been…a long time, Renaldo."
Hesitating for a moment, his voice trembled slightly.
"Time flies, or so they say."
"That it does."
Bryce was trying to find his courage.
Renaldo shifted, his black eyes glinting.
"I would be a fool to believe you would dare come see me for reason other than your daughter, your grace," he mocked. "So let me help you get to the point. I hear whisperings in my estate. The Blight threatens and your King has fallen in battle against the darkspawn, yes? His half brother is to take his place as the new monarch and your charming daughter is to be his new wife?"
The forthright words startled Bryce as he stared at the other man and what was more frightening was the vehemence and disgust behind them. He could only blink and Alfieri laughed.
"How well she has done for herself!" he exclaimed rather harshly. "I have no interest in your politics Cousland, but is not the coronation imminent?"
"It is, Ser, but the wedding will not be for some time yet. The king has much to deal with and bring to order before he takes on the duty of husband."
Alfieri watched Bryce with a strange keenness.
"I imagine not everyone is happy with your new successor?" he baited with glee.
Bryce cleared his throat.
"For someone who is not interested in Ferelden politics, you certainly know much."
"Ah, in my business one must know all the political dealings within many regions of Thedas, your grace. It is part of the job. Although I do admit, not the most interesting or even the most important," he finished.
Bryce sighed.
"It is as you speak. There is dissent now. Tension. But Alistair plans on facing it head on. He will make a good King. The Landsmeet has voted against the Queen's regent, and he has been slain."
"And so I hear!" he exclaimed with gusto. "And by your daughter's hand, yes? Quite the tenacious one you have there, your grace. She behaves like a man."
Each time the formal title was uttered Bryce could feel the mocking behind it. He swallowed vigorously. Alfieri's words were true – his daughter behaved more like a man than his own son did. He had never understood it himself, but he loved her fiercely.
"She has given up her life for the Grey Wardens to fight the Blight," he said with obvious pride. "Everything she has done has been for the betterment of her country. I could not be more proud of her."
His tone was touched with regret.
It was then that Alfieri, fluid like the dark shadows, leaned in towards Bryce's ear.
"She will continue to face opposition everywhere she goes, and yet she seems to be formidable amidst dissent."
There was a pause and then Alfieri whispered once again, this time his words a mockery. There was no mistaking the hatred that colored his words.
"Her mother would have been proud."
Bryce felt his blood run cold at the tone. It spoke of things unsaid and hinted that Alfieri knew more than he would ever admit about the future of Ferelden. It whispered of revenge and hate and all the things that Bryce wished he could take back and do over but would never have the chance to.
He stood dead still staring out at the black, turbulent sea.
"I need to tell her, Renaldo," he croaked. "She deserves to know what happened to her mother – and she needs to know of her family. It was my mistake. I cannot punish her for it. Especially now – especially because she will be Queen."
The scent of brine tinged the air as Bryce took in a shuddering breath.
Alfieri threw back his head and laughed, though the sound held no mirth.
"Now, your grace?" he questioned as Bryce turned seeing the other man's eyes glittering dangerously. "She is about to claim the place of highest power in your country, no? You destroyed her life long before she was born. Would you take this away from her too?"
Bryce stood, shocked in place.
"Her place on the throne has been secured," he managed. "Her birthright matters no longer."
"No?"
He cocked his head, watching Bryce with interest. "What would your people say if they knew who her mother was, your grace? What would they say if they knew she was nothing more than a bar maid in the lowliest tavern in Antiva City?"
Bryce felt himself failing in word and thought. There was nothing more to say, was there?
Alfieri had plunged a dagger into his heart and began to twist it with his next words.
"Your indiscretion and stupidity have destroyed your family and caused your wife's untimely death. And now you seek to destroy your daughter as well? Bettina never meant anything to you, and she means nothing now."
Bryce could barely breathe, knowing this was not the truth. He had, at one time, loved Bettina Alfieri very much. But he would not argue with Renaldo Alfieri now – it would be too dangerous and terribly fruitless. Nothing could change the past.
"Do you not ever wonder, Renaldo?" questioned Bryce painfully. "What my daughter is like?"
The movement was like lightning and Bryce felt the sharp edge of Alfieri's blade against his neck – cold and hard.
"She is not mine," he hissed, murder and hatred in his voice. "Do not come here, to my country, and remind me of how you took to bed with my wife and produced a child. I will not hear it again, Bryce Cousland. And I will not have you come here and dredge it up once more! Be gone from here. You are not welcome!"
A silence fell on them filled only with the sound of the crashing waves.
"She deserves to know."
There was a snort of humorless laughter.
"My dear man, you deserved your throat slit for committing adultery with my wife, and yet, you still live. I care not what someone deserves, least of all that disgusting child of yours. You and your unfortunately dead wife made a pact with me a long time ago. You take the child, and leave of Antiva in return for my silence. I have held up my part of the bargain and yet your wife returned here, did she not?"
"And she paid with her life!" exclaimed Bryce tearfully. "How could someone have slain an innocent woman? She did not deserve it! She only wanted to help Lucia know who her family was! After all that time, all those years we thought she deserved to know!"
"You promised," replied Alfieri without emotion. "And you broke that promise. Perhaps the death of your wife was not enough of a reminder?"
He pressed the edge of the dagger harder against the skin of Bryce's neck.
"It would be a pleasure killing a disgusting swine like you," he raged, his tone trembling on the edge of a dark chasm from where he would not be able to return. "You destroyed my marriage. You shamed me as a man and a husband. You meddled in things you should not have and now you come to me and beg me to share my shame with the result of your disgusting acts with my wife? Never! I would see your filthy daughter fall at my feet and beg for her life as I slice her throat open and spill the blood of what you and my whore wife created! It is unfortunate that I will not have the pleasure to do so, but I can promise you that she is marked for death as surely as your own wife was when she returned here seeking to help your daughter."
Bryce closed his eyes, willing himself to accept death like a man, but he felt tears of shame and despair clouding his vision as he stumbled to his knees. He choked suddenly on the bitterness of them, wishing he could have said goodbye to his only daughter, the only living memory he had of a woman he should never have been able to love.
I do deserve this, Maker help me. I deserve this. Lucia, if you find out what happened, forgive me. Please, forgive me.
He could only hope if he did not live through this, that someone else would protect her from harm, keep her from Antiva City and away from this man.
He felt the terrible pull of fear and regret as his trembling hands came up to his face as he felt the blade pressing against his neck with more insistence, felt the pain. He swallowed, unmoving, listening to the waves as the crashed against the sea wall…
o-o
o-o
A few days later, a small missive set sail, destined for Ferelden….
My Dearest Lucia,
It is with deepest regret that I write to tell you that I cannot make your future husband's coronation. Business has tied me up in the north and I simply cannot get away. I wish you and Alistair all the luck in the world and I hope that I will be there to share your joy when you exchange vows.
Your regretful Father,
Bryce