Duty

A Dragon Age: Origins Fanfic

Duty Chapter 1

The Last Night in Denerim

"Get in here you two, and sit down." Eamon ordered.

Elinora Cousland's blue green eyes met with Alistair's soft brown. He, typically, shrugged, and had a seat on the wooden chair Eamon had motioned to. She followed, unable to share the dread that crept over her heart. They had been hoping for a quiet moment together after all the drama and violence of the Landsmeet, but they both understood that their duty to Ferelden was more important than stolen moments in secluded corners.

Riordan, the Grey Warden they had rescued from Arl Howe's estate, leaned on the edge of Eamon's massive desk. A haunted expression hung on his features that made Elinora's stomach clench.

"It has come to my attention," Eamon began, his voice grave and tired, "that you two have... formed an attachment. Were you an ordinary man and an ordinary woman there wouldn't be a problem. I would even call it an excellent match, the future king of Ferelden and the daughter of a respected Teryn, but Riordan has informed me of a complication." He paused and took a sad breath. "You are both Grey Wardens."

"So?" But even as she said it, she saw Alistair's face crumple and his shoulders slump. She looked between the men in room, all knowing something she didn't. She hated that. "What?"

"Grey Wardens can't have children." Alistair's voice was barely a whisper. "It's the taint."

"It is a little more complex than that," added Riordan, looking to the uncrowned king. "Alistair is young yet, he has not been exposed to the taint long, which gives him a chance of siring children. Carrying a child is a different matter," his sad gaze shifted to Elinora. "The offspring and the mother share the same blood for the months in the womb."

"Oh Maker…" Elinora's face fell into her hands. Heirs. A king needed heirs. It was a cold, stark reality of royal marriages. If she couldn't provide them, she was no good to him.

And thus Leliana lost the happy ending to her love ballad.

Elinora rose suddenly, startling the men who were all watching her. "I understand." She turned on her heel and left Eamon's study, head up, eyes still dry. She didn't know how much longer the brave face could last. She increased her pace at the turning of the corridor, and again at the next turning. By the time she reached her room, dodging friends and servants alike, she was running.

She shut the door and put its oak planks to her back. Eyes squeezed shut, she tried to get her knees to stop shaking, heart to slow down. She took ten deep, even breaths then pushed herself away from the door. The ground stayed under her feet, she did not collapse, it did not swallow her whole.

See, she thought to herself, the world didn't fall apart.

Which just made her angry.

Elinora Cousland had never been a girl of rages or sulks, even as a child, but this was a new dimension to an all too familiar pain. The small niche of happiness that was all hers, ripped away so suddenly, a happy ending hacked off before it could fully blossom. It was like losing her parents all over again, but different. The void in her heart felt the same, but navigating through it would be much, much different.

Her helmet crashed into the opposite wall. She didn't even know she had thrown it until the clatter startled her out of her rage.

Which was followed a few heartbeats later by a plaintive scratching at the door and a familiar whine.

It was times like these that a girl needed her trusty war hound.

She opened the door just enough to let Finn in and was surprised when the door opened further, forcefully, and Alistair pushed his way in behind Finn. He shut the door and leaned against it, just as she had been doing moments before.

For an eternal moment, he searched her face. "I'm so sorry." It was feeble, and they both knew it.

Elinora fought the urge to collapse, either to the floor or in his arms, and wail at the unfairness of it all. They had just found each other, just found out about the full joys of love and lovemaking. Life was not fair and she would not regress to a toddler because she didn't like the newest lesson in an old truth.

She took a deep breath and drew herself up, straight and tall. "We have a duty to fulfill. We can't let our own desires get in the way of what must be done to save Ferelden and end the Blight."

"And we won't. We'll slay the archdemon and then," he shrugged his familiar shrug, "we'll see…"

"We'll see? Your majesty must…"

"Oh don't start that now." Alistair paced a small circle, hands scrubbing through his short blonde hair. "It was cute last night, but now…"

"Now it is deathly serious."

He looked at her a long time, the hurt drawing his eyebrows in. "Yes." He looked away, absently starched Finn behind the ears. The hound growled at him. His mistress was not happy and this one was making her so. Alistair moved his hand away before Finn could bite it off.

The awkwardness was crushing Elinora; she couldn't stand it much longer. "If you'll excuse me, I need to make sure we are fully supplied before…"

No, he couldn't bear this cool, polite business from her, not now. He closed the distance between them in two strides and pulled her to his body. Their armor rang as the plates of the Armor of Diligence met the rivets of her Dragonscale leathers. His hands slipped into her hair, drawing her mouth to his. She retuned his kiss with the same desperation that raged in his heart. His lips lifted as his forehead touched hers. "Not. Letting. You. Go."

The words were so strong, so determined that in that moment she believed them. For right now, they were the truth and everything was better. His arms, mouth and heart were reality, and the rest was a bad dream.

"Listen," he started, "I have a plan, for once. I'm going to have dinner brought up, water for a bath too, if you like. And then we are going to put Finn on guard duty and stay in here until we feel like leaving. Come Darkspawn or high water, we're staying together."

The smile that broke out on her face was the most beautiful he had ever known. She nodded. He kissed her briefly and ducked out of the room.

Twenty minutes later, he was back with their packs in hand, followed five minutes later by servants with food, several buckets of water, and a bouquet of flowers. Alistair smiled as she breathed in the sweet aroma of the flowers. "I wanted to bring those myself, but got all practical and went for the packs. That's your influence there."

"The boy can be taught." She rewarded him with a long kiss as the servants departed. One last preparation to keep the rest of the world out, and then they would have the time together they had been longing for. She opened the door to set Finn on guard and found Zevran leaning casually against the wall outside their door. The sly grin he gave her said that he knew what they were about, fully approved, and was going to see that they were not disturbed.

Somewhere in her pack was a silver bar with his name on it.

With the door firmly shut on the rest of the world, they fell into each other's arms. One by one, pieces of armor fell to the floor, carelessly cast away. Hands explored every inch of flesh, trying to memorize each contour. Even as they clung to each other in an embrace they said would never end, their kisses belied it, each being a desperate attempt to stay together.

They made love five times that night, each time she sent a little prayer to Andraste that she would be quickened, but truly she knew that this was the end. Maybe they both knew, but they locked their grief outside with Finn. For that one perfect night they danced and kissed, scrubbed one another's back and talked only of happy things when they talked at all. Eventually, they fell into an exhausted blissful slumber, safely curled up in the euphoric embrace of love.