Memories
It was a cold, cloudy day in Fereldan. Rain pelted down from the dark clouds that covered the rich tundra, and with the coldness of the air, threatened to turn into thin shears of ice. The gloomy weather did not deter the spirits of the Denerim townsfolk, however, as the marketplace was just as jubilating as ever. Here the weary traveler could stop at the Gnawed Noble for a drink and a hot meal and catch up on the latest gossip in town which almost always centered on the king. Although he had been king for two decades now, Alistair just couldn't keep himself out of the eyes of his subjects. Whether or not he did a good deed determined on how the citizens of Denerim reacted. Recently, his decision to let his oldest daughter marry the Orlesian Empress's son had made the town go into a complete frenzy. They were happy about it, as was the Orlesian prince, Raphael, but everyone within Alistair's castle seemed displeased with the notion…except of course, for the queen who had arranged the whole thing.
Anora fretted on and on about how Alistair needed to build a strong political alliance with the nation and convinced him that a marriage was the only answer. Alistair had been so out of his head lately though, when Anora approached him with the subject he just agreed to it to get her out of his hair. Lately the king of Fereldan had been feeling quite somber. He had no reason to, of course because he had a beautiful family despite the fact he absolutely loathed his wife…but their two daughters made life so wonderful, Alistair easily looked past the fact that he was in a loveless marriage for the sake of them both. They had grown so fast, shot up like blossoming flowers coming back from a dormant winter. His oldest, Emily, was, thankfully every bit of him. She did not flaunt her nobility to others and was kind to all those around her…but she unfortunately did inherit her mother's stubbornness…but many times Alistair conceded that that wasn't such a bad thing at all. In the blink of an eye she had grown from a small baby to the young woman she was today. The same could be said for her younger sister, Georgiana. She too had grown quickly, and took more after her mother with her looks, but also was lucky enough to inherit Alistair's personality.
Alistair drew himself out of his thoughts only to plunge headfirst into them once again. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and looked out his nearby window to watch as the rain drizzled lazily against the glass. There was another reason for his sadness…and as Alistair thought over it his hand moved to his neck of its own accord, catching his mother's amulet between his fingers that had been restored to him so long ago. Alistair stood and walked over to the window. He placed his hands behind his back and sighed tiredly as he stared up into the stormy clouds. Thinking back, Alistair noted that the Maker always decided to let the rains come on the anniversary of her death. A faint smile tugged at his lips as he was about to slip into a pleasant memory before a knock at his door pulled him back to reality, not letting him take the dive.
"Enter." He said gruffly.
Alistair turned as the door opened to reveal Emily. He raised his eyebrows slightly at the sight of his daughter. They used to spend most of the day together in times past…but ever since Alistair's silence on the matter of her marriage it seemed like it was all his daughter could do to even look at him. Alistair walked back over to his desk, rubbing a hand down his face and preparing himself for the harsh words that were likely to come. He sat in his chair and watched as Emily strode across the room gracefully and sat in front of his desk. Alistair noted that her eyes were a little bloodshot and glassy.
"Papa…" Emily whispered deftly.
Alistair looked at her but didn't say anything yet in return. It was better to let her get everything out first that way he could listen and try to make sense of everything that she said. Emily opened her mouth several times to say something, but nothing came out. Alistair was patient, as this provided him time to come up with his own response. Eventually, Emily took a deep breath to settle herself and looked into the honey colored eyes that she shared with him.
"Papa…please, please do not make me marry that man. I beg of you…I will do anything else you ask of me, but please let me remain your daughter and not the wife of…of him. Couldn't I marry someone else? Someone from Fereldan? Someone like,"
"Someone like Connor?" Alistair asked slowly.
He noted that his daughter went completely pale at the mention of the young mage's name. Her eyes grew as wide as saucers and her shoulders slumped slightly, the signs of utter surprise and defeat. Alistair sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. He had known for some time now that Eamon's son had captured his daughter's heart. Alistair had been cautions when he took the young man in as his advisor after Eamon became too old to perform the day to day tasks, but Connor reassured him that the only intentions he had while staying at the castle was to make sure that Alistair's paperwork did not envelop the top of his desk.
This had been before he laid his grey eyes on Emily, however.
It seemed from that moment on that Connor was head over heels for the beautiful princess…and the attraction was mutual. Often times Alistair spotted them from his window taking a stroll through the gardens and sitting beneath a tree for a picnic during the warmer months…but he thought nothing of it, a friendship at most. But then again, Alistair was never really adept in reading 'signs'…and he had been without true love for so long that he had honestly forgotten what it looked like. It wasn't until that he started noticing every time the two made eye contact that they would blush bashfully that Alistair realized that something much more had developed between them. He was quite sure many secret rendezvous had occurred in the dark corners of the castle that no one seemed to wander to…but he didn't doubt his daughter's virtue. Although her entire relationship with this man was an error in her judgment…Emily had a good head on her shoulders to not allow it to escalade to anything beyond what it was. Or at least that's what he hoped.
"All I want is to be happy, Papa. I have seen what a loveless marriage is like and I want no part of it. Connor loves me…and I love him. Why would you want me to be unhappy like you are?" she asked softly.
Alistair raised his eyebrow and contemplated his daughter for a moment before replying,
"I'm perfectly content."
Emily shook her head.
"You know that's not true. Even growing up I noticed that there was always a distant gleam in your eye…like you were always living in constant memories instead of reality. You were here physically, yes, but mentally you were never sitting at the dining table listening or paying attention as mother prattled on about some unimportant thing. You were always gone and now I know why. You don't love mother, you can hardly stand her and you would much rather live in the world you've created in your head than suffer spending any time at all with her. I don't want to be like that, Papa. I want to live, to love, to thrive….but if I marry this man he will suck everything away from me and I will shrivel up and die…just as you have."
Alistair sat back against his chair and swallowed. Emily stood and walked towards the door. She opened it, but didn't immediately step through. Instead, she looked back at Alistair and drew her brows together.
"You have always showered me with gifts and things that I did not ask for because you thought that they made me happy, and they did…but the one time I ask for the one thing that will grant me true happiness you cannot find it in yourself to give me. Isn't there something wrong with that? Just because you are miserable and have been miserable for as long as I can remember doesn't mean you have to make us, your children miserable too. You should want us to be happy and yet you said nothing in my defense as mother arranged this whole damn thing. I realize that I am a princess and that I have a duty to my people…but I still don't understand why you said nothing for me knowing that this situation would shroud me in a cloud of sadness forever."
Emily stepped through the door and closed it behind her. Alistair let out a breath. Her words were like the point of a dagger drawing slowly across his skin. Everything she had said held truth to it. He was miserable…he had been ever since that one day…
Alistair rested his hand on the handle of his desk drawer and pulled it open. He retrieved a key from inside it and then turned to the drawer on his right. Alistair placed the key in the lock and turned it. Hearing the telltale click, Alistair pulled open the drawer. The aged wood creaked in protest but opened nonetheless. Inside laid an assortment of things. An old leather bound sketching pad that held many beautiful pictures of flowers and leaves, trees and animals and even a likeness of himself when he was in his early twenties. His gaze traveled over the contents of the drawer. Another, smaller book lay next to the sketchpad that was filled with a beautiful, loopy cursive of thoughts from long ago. Unfortunately the majority of the text within was in Elven…but there were a few entries that were in the King's native tongue, thankfully. Regardless if there were any or not though, Alistair still would've kept it because it was once hers. His eyes continued to drift over the other contents. A few pencils that went along with the sketch book, a lock of hair that was a rich brown…and finally a single rose that had been preserved by magic so that it would remain alive and thriving forever. Alistair picked the rose up and thumbed the ribbon that was tied to it. Her ribbon. A lump had formed in Alistair's throat and as he closed his eyes and brought the flower to his nose a single tear escaped the corner of his eye and rolled down his cheek. That was all it took for Alistair to lose himself in his memories…
20 Years Earlier…
A much younger Alistair sat outside his tent staring down at a beautiful flower he had picked some time ago. The air was slightly chilly, but with the blazing fire crackling at the center of the camp no one seemed to notice. The smell of the wood burning and the stew Leliana was preparing made the air entirely pleasant. Alistair looked up from the flower and drifted his eyes over his companions, looking for one in particular. Zevran sat not far away sharpening one of his daggers and having an animated conversation with Leliana, who was adding more ingredients to the already pleasurably smelling stew above the fire. Wynne, the elderly mage that had been with them ever since their adventure in the Circle Tower, was reading a book, most likely filled with Arcane symbols and other things that would peak the interest of a mage. Morrigan was probably in her own ramshackle of a tent scowling and complaining about something and Sten stood stoically as he always did, keeping watch for anything that he thought would attack them. Eventually, Alistair's eyes landed on the one person whom he'd been searching for this entire time…
Faelwyn.
His fellow Warden was crouched by the river, washing off berries they had picked earlier in the day. It had been just the two of them…and it was nothing but wonderful. Wonderful to get away from the others, wonderful to finally spend some time alone with her, and wonderful to just enjoy the gentle breeze. Faelwyn had explained to him the properties of the berries that they picked. Some were safe to eat but others she planned to use to make poisons to lace the tips of her arrows in. They also spoke for quite a while of what happened at the Dalish Camp that they recently traveled away from. Alistair knew it must've been hard for Faelwyn to walk away, once again from her people regardless if they were a different tribe or not…and she admitted that it was. Alistair had thought about giving her the rose then, but again he was afraid he may say something wrong. He had kissed her not long ago, completely out of the blue and regretted that decision immensely. Although Faelwyn didn't say she didn't like it, they had not shared any contact of that sort since then…and that was going on about three weeks now.
Regardless, Alistair was determined to patch things up and allude to her that he felt something for her and it was not just friendship. Gathering his courage and making sure he had what he wanted to say to her completely thought out, Alistair stood and (with shaky legs) walked over towards his fellow Warden.
"Hello Alistair." She greeted before he even said a word. He wasn't wearing his armor, so the clinking of his mail had not alerted her. Could it be that she was so at one with nature that she sensed him through the ground? He had asked her many times before if the Dalish had a certain connection with nature and Faelwyn had only said that they understand it more than any other culture. She explained to him that she did not see colors as just green or brown, she gave them specific names like 'chestnut brow' or 'evergreen'. Ever since that conversation, Alistair had paid more attention to his surroundings, noting that Faelwyn was right. He felt as if he was actually seeing things for the first time…and he loved every minute of it.
"Hi…what are you up to?" he asked stupidly.
Faelwyn pushed a lock of her rich brown hair that had fallen from her ponytail behind her pointed ear.
"I have just finished washing these berries you helped me pick earlier. Thank you again for that, by the way."
Alistair smiled.
"It was no trouble. Do you have a minute?"
Faelwyn nodded and stood, raking the dirt off of her slender knees and Dalish armor that showed off her midriff shamelessly. Alistair returned his gaze to her sparkling green eyes and unknowingly shifted his weight from foot to foot.
"What is it you wish to speak to me of?" she asked curiously.
Alistair swallowed as the muscles of his stomach clenched nervously. He cleared his throat and pulled the rose from behind his back.
"Do you know what this is?" he asked.
Faelwyn raised a dark eyebrow and took the flower from his large hands. She studied it for a moment before looking back at him.
"Alistair…I know you are not Dalish and therefore are not as close to nature as we are but surely you have enough knowledge to know that this is a rose." She stated incredulously.
Alistair chuckled nervously.
"Yes…I do know that. I uh…picked it while we were in Lothering. I remember thinking here was this wonderful and beautiful thing thriving in the middle of chaos…but I knew that once the Darkspawn came that it would be Tainted and die…"
Faelwyn nodded solemnly.
"Yes…their Taint is a slow poison, it sucks the life right out of everything and leaves it shriveled and dead."
Alistair took a deep breath to try and settle his nerves. After a moment he continued.
"I wanted to give this to you, Faelwyn…because when I look at that rose, I am reminded of you. You are a rare and wonderful thing against all this darkness and I…I want you to know that. You in no way asked for any of what has happened to happen and I've just been complaining so much…I just wanted to take a moment and tell you that you are rare and wonderful and…I'm repeating myself…"
Faelwyn smiled and blushed slightly.
"This is a wonderful gesture, Alistair. I thank you for it…but are you sure this is the best time to be proposing marriage?"
Everything around Alistair came to a screeching halt. His eyes grew wide as a cold sweat broke out across his forehead.
"W-What?"
Faelwyn chuckled and shook her head.
"In my culture, whenever a man wishes to propose to his lover he gives her a gift. If he too receives one in turn then they are betrothed and then blessed by the Keeper. I know you didn't know of that custom but I couldn't resist seeing the look on your face, forgive me."
Alistair released a hefty sight and wiped the back of his hand against his forehead.
"You nearly threw me into a fit, I'll have you know." He laughed.
Faelwyn giggled and took a step closer to him. Because of their height difference she had to stand on her toes to plant a sweet kiss to the side of his cheek. Faelwyn pulled back slightly and smiled.
"Thank you, Alistair. I shall cherish this forever."
Alistair rubbed the back of his neck and before he could stop himself he added,
"Well if you don't mind getting past this awkward stage and getting straight to the steamy bits…"
A flash of surprise formed on Faelwyn's features before she smiled a little wickedly and rested her hand against his chest.
"Very well…take off your clothes and I'll show you what we elves really do to celebrate the change of seasons…"
Alistair felt his entire face become hot as he was sure he was practically glowing in embarrassment.
"Ah…um…that-that was supposed to be a bluff…" he stammered.
Faelwyn giggled softly and nodded.
"I thought so. However even though this is not a proposal, I still wish to give you something in return, to show my thanks for you being here as well."
Alistair held up his hands and shook his head.
"No, no you don't have to do that; I don't expect anything in return,"
Faelwyn tipped her head to the side.
"I know you do not, but I wish to give you something as well. May I draw you?"
Alistair brightened. Faelwyn was a wonderful artist…she had shown him some of her sketches and explained to him what each drawing was. Sometimes she drew flowers, at other times leaves or trees…Alistair had noticed that the face of a male elf he had never seen before frequently popped up on many of the pages, but when he asked her who it was, Faelwyn avoided the question. He didn't pry her for the information, but his curiosity grew each time he saw the pictures. Was he a family member or perhaps a lover she left behind? If the latter was the case, did she still care for this elf? Alistair shook his head. She couldn't…if she did she would've stopped anything that was brewing between them before it even started.
Coming back to reality, Alistair realized he hadn't answered her question. He blinked and nodded.
"Well…I always have wanted my likeness drawn somewhere, I'd always thought I'd feel important then. Okay, let's do it!"
Faelwyn smiled.
"You are important, Alistair. You're important to me." She whispered softly.
It took several hours before the sketch was completed, but when it was Alistair was sure he was staring at a mirror's image of himself. Faelwyn had captured his likeness so accurately…it was a little scary. She had moved to tear the page from her book to give it to him, but Alistair rested his hands atop hers.
"No, you keep it in there for now or else I'll ruin it."
Faelwyn looked at him.
"But how else will I give it to you?" she asked.
Alistair smiled.
"Once all this is over I will buy a frame and you can place it in that." He stated.
Their companions had long since turned in for the night, leaving Alistair and Faelwyn alone beneath the twinkling stars. Faelwyn nodded but didn't move her hands out from under Alistair's. He in turn made no move to remove them either. They gazed into each other's eyes for what seemed like hours to Alistair. Suddenly, his body was moving of it's own accord as he leaned forward. Before he could stop himself, Alistair claimed Faelwyn's lips with his in a slow kiss. Almost as soon as it started though, Alistair broke it and pulled back. He closed his eyes and mentally cursed himself. This was the second time he had kissed her without warning. Alistair was sure he had just made a huge mistake…until he felt Faelwyn's hand on the side of his face, turning him back to look at her. Without a word, it was Faelwyn who went in for the kiss this time. This kiss was not a tentative kiss…in fact, it was far from it. It was deep and sensual, the kind of kiss that two lovers would share. Alistair, although surprised at first, eventually wrapped an arm around her waist. The other he rested at the back of her neck, lightly running his thumb against the base of her skull. As their mouths moved, their tongues eventually escaped and tentatively touched each other. They each made the kiss last as long as it could before they were forced to break apart for air. Alistair closed his eyes and took a deep breath as his heat was beginning to pool at the pit of his stomach. He couldn't allow many more kisses like that without having to spend some time with himself alone later.
"Ma'arlath…" Faelwyn whispered breathlessly.
Alistair opened his eyes and looked at her, noting that her cheeks were pink. He drew his brows together and blinked.
"What does that mean?" he whispered.
Faelwyn blinked several times and shook her head.
"It is too soon…I do not know why I said it…better that you do not know for now." She replied softly.
Before Alistair could say anything, Faelwyn stood and disappeared into her tent. From that moment on, their relationship was not the same. There were many sidelong glances throughout the day, they would both stay up into the wee hours of the night and talk about the moon or the stars or anything they fancied. There was more times of sneaking out of the camp and away from their friends to spend time alone, kissing and touching…nothing too heavy, of course…only light caresses for now (though that would soon change). Weeks later the group found themselves in Denerim, finally looking for a man who could lead them to Andraste's Ashes and cure a comatose Arl Eamon. However, Alistair had another reason he wanted to go to Denerim. He had hoped to finally meet someone whom he had a blood relation to…a sister that he had never met before. Many times Alistair had imagined what she would be like, if she liked to bake, if they had any shared interest, if they carried some of the same features, if he was an uncle…but like most of the things that happened to Alistair, everything went terribly wrong. She was bitter and cold, so unlike how he imagined she would be. But then of course, why should he be surprised? Nothing ever worked in his favor…but he did hold his hope out for this one only to have it squashed in the most horrible way possible.
"Do not listen to that hateful, bitter woman. She is a shallow hull of a human being, a soulless vessel. You do not need her. You must learn to stand up for yourself, Alistair." Faelwyn had said.
He had contemplated her words for a long while after that. Faelwyn promised him that no matter what, he would have her which was rather bold on her part. So many thoughts were running through Alistair's head later that night at camp that he couldn't make sense of anything. He loved Faelwyn, loved her with all of his being…but now wasn't the best time to fall in love, not in the middle of the Blight when so much was still uncertain…
But every time he looked at her his stomach would flutter and his heart would soar. She was beautiful, cunning, kind…any and everything Alistair would hope to find in a woman. He waited nervously as their companions each returned to their tents, one by one until they were alone. Before Alistair could move towards her, however, Faelwyn had already begun walking towards him. She sat down next to him and took his hand in hers. Alistair looked at her and pushed a lock of her sleek brown hair behind her ear, letting his fingertips linger longer than was necessary.
"Before we go any further…I just want to thank you for coming with me to see my sister. You are a true friend, Faelwyn and I…I love you." He confessed softly.
Faelwyn looked at him and was quiet for a few minutes before she asked,
"It does not bother you that I am an elf?"
Alistair chuckled.
"Of course not."
Faelwyn let out a relieved sigh and rested her forehead against Alistair's.
"Ma'arlath." She whispered before kissing him softly.
The kiss broke before long and Alistair drew his brows together.
"What does that mean?" he asked again.
Faelwyn smiled and stared into his honey colored orbs.
"It means, 'I love you'." She replied.
Alistair traced the tip of her ear with his finger.
"Ma'arlath." He said softly.
They both chuckled. Alistair's pronunciation was completely off, but it was clear what he meant. Faelwyn kissed him deeply again before she pulled away and whispered in his ear,
"Then show me." She whispered.
Alistair blushed. Albeit he was hoping that when he confessed his feelings for her they would end up making love…but now that that scenario was actually happening…Alistair didn't exactly know what to do about it. However, his legs moved of their own accord and soon he was standing and following Faelwyn into her tent. Once inside, his Warden companion turned to him and pulled her hair out of it's ponytail, allowing it to rest against her shoulders. Alistair realized that he must've looked completely frightened because Faelwyn took his hand and rested it on her heart.
"Do not be scared, emma lath. Feel my heart. It beats for you and only you."
Alistair's own heart was racing and he felt like he could be sick, but that nervousness was balanced out with excitement as well. Faelwyn moved his hand up to her lips and kissed each of his fingertips before she looked into his eyes and claimed his lips in a slow kiss. The minute her tongue slid across his lips seeking entry, Alistair complied. Their tongues came together, stroking each other slowly. As they kissed each other, Faelwyn slowly lowered herself to her bed roll and pulled Alistair with her. Alistair's eyes grew wide as he broke the kiss, realizing he was now hovering over her, propped up on his hands and knees so he would not crush her petite form. Faelwyn's eyes were half lidded and her lips were swollen slightly from their kiss. She snaked her arms around his neck and ran her fingers through his hair.
"Bond with me, Alistair." She whispered softly.
They did and it was the most wonderful and magical thing Alistair had ever experienced. Admittedly, he didn't know what he was doing and had trouble removing her armor and his clothes…but once he was successful everything was fine. Alistair relished the feel of Faelwyn's soft skin, like he was running his hands over silk itself…and she was as pale as the full moon that rested above them. Alistair wanted to learn every groove of her skin, he wanted to study her body like a map and chart his way across the entire thing. Faelwyn did the same to him, dancing her lips and fingertips across his untouched skin, leaving Alistair shuddering in pleasure. When they actually came together, Alistair's movements were slow and gentle despite how much his mind kept telling him to go faster. They held each other as each of them trembled from release, and once they caught their breath, Faelwyn turned into Alistair's arms and rested her head against his chest.
"If anyone told me that I would Bond with a human four months ago I would have thought them completely mad…but you are not like those who caused us trouble. You are different…you are kind and caring…I love you, Alistair." She whispered.
Alistair looked down at her and kissed her forehead.
"And I love you."
He held her close as Faelwyn drifted off to sleep. Alistair smiled as his own eyelids became heavy. For once something had gone right…and he couldn't be happier about it. Unfortunately though, Alistair did not know what was to come…but in the months that followed that happiness would shift through his fingers like sand falling from an hourglass.
It all started once they finally retrieved Andraste's Ashes and cured Arl Eamon. He explained to Alistair that Loghain was trying to usurp Cailan's throne…but Alistair could put a stop to it since he was Maric's son. Being that he did have royal blood flowing through his veins, he had a direct right to assume Cailan's throne and become king of Fereldan. But unfortunately…this meant something else as well. If Alistair became king, he would have to release Faelwyn from his heart…something he wasn't sure he could do. Eamon was sympathetic but explained to Alistair that if they did win the coming Landsmeet and he was chosen as king, he couldn't continue to be in a relationship with her. When Alistair told this to Faelwyn after the Landsmeet was won, he could tell that she was hurt and heartbroken…but she was strong.
"I knew once you told me that you were Maric's son that something like this would happen. I tried to stave by feelings for you…but I could not. I love you, Alistair…but I will not come between you and your destiny. We cannot let Fereldan fall into Loghain's hands; he will tear the country further apart whereas you can place it back together. You will make a good king, Alistair…" she said.
Alistair looked into Faelwyn's eyes to see them shining in the flickering firelight.
"But what about us?" he asked softly.
Faelwyn shook her head.
"We will part ways after all this is over, it is as simple as that. Perhaps if the other Wardens ever meet up with us I could join them as there really is no life back with my people…not without Tamlen…"
Alistair looked at Faelwyn as she mentioned the other elf's name. Recently they had been attacked by a pack of Shrieks while in camp and Tamlen, the previous man to hold Faelwyn's heart was among them. His transformation into one had not been complete, however, and he begged Faelwyn to end his torment. She did, but told Alistair afterwards that that was the hardest thing she's ever had to do. Alistair took her hands in his and pressed them to his lips.
"I'm so sorry, Faelwyn. I want things to be different…I love you so much I,"
Faelwyn pressed her finger to Alistair's lips and shook her head.
"Perhaps in the next life things will be different. I may be born a human, who knows? We will find each other then and our love will blossom and continue from there." She whispered.
Alistair hugged Faelwyn tightly to his chest.
"Will you visit me?" he asked, blinking away tears that threatened to fall from his eyes.
Faelwyn swallowed and nodded as she ran her fingers through his hair.
"Of course I will. Just because we cannot be lovers does not mean we cannot be friends."
Alistair held Faelwyn close to him, happy at least that she was not as upset as he thought she would've been. He looked forward to having her visit once he was king and hoped that many years of friendship would come after their final attack on the Arch Demon…
But once again, Alistair was very wrong.
It all started the night before the final battle. As Alistair was walking through the halls of Eamon's estate, he heard shouts coming from Faelwyn's room. By the time he made it there, Morrigan, looking more infuriated than usual, threw the door open and stomped away, giving Alistair an icy stare. Alistair poked his head in to see Faelwyn sitting by the fire looking slightly pale. When he asked what had happened between her and Morrigan, Faelwyn only said that the mage suggested something that went against everything she believed in. As he continued to talk with his love, Alistair noticed that she wasn't acting like her usual self. She was jumpy and had a trace of fear in her eyes.
"What's wrong?" he asked her as he moved closer to her.
Faelwyn shook her head and sighed.
"I am wary for tomorrow…I should not be, I have stared death in the face several times before and not flinched but…for some reason I am very aware of my mortality tonight."
Alistair contemplated Faelwyn's words. Riordan had explained to them what happens when a Grey Warden slays an Arch Demon…and since he was the oldest he decided to take the killing blow. Alistair didn't have any doubts in Riordan's plan since he seemed like a capable warrior, but Faelwyn was left unsure.
"Everything will be fine, Faelwyn. Riordan will kill the Arch Demon and then all of this madness will be over."
Faelwyn looked into his honey colored eyes and gave him a small smile.
"I hope you are right, Alistair." She whispered.
They spent that final night together, whispering how much they loved each other throughout the night, knowing that they could never be this close again. Faelwyn led them into battle the next morning, and what a long battle it was. Alistair would never forget seeing all those dead bodies strewn about Denerim, all that blood splattered against the cobblestone streets and on the side of shops and houses, all the disembodied limbs and bones…
These images would haunt him forever…but none such as seeing Faelwyn rush at the Arch Demon. They had found Riordan's body and Alistair knew that the killing blow was up to him or Faelwyn. He had vowed to himself that he would do it, not caring about leaving Denerim and Fereldan without a king…but an ogre stopped him before he could make a run for the monstrous dragon. He watched helplessly as Faelwyn lunged herself onto the rippling back of the Arch Demon and run her blade into it several times. A bright light flooded through the area as the fierce dragon roared in death and defeat. The force was so strong that it knocked Alistair off of his feet.
Once Alistair pulled himself up he took a moment to look at his surroundings. The Darkspawn were fleeing, fleeing back to the Deep Roads to embank themselves in darkness. The soldiers and elves and mages they recruited throughout this journey were helping each other back up, and many were cheering in triumph. A rush of air flew past Alistair, and he thought for one mad moment he felt a pair of lips touch his forehead. It was as if the wind went through him and not just past him. His legs moved forward toward the hulking remains of the Arch Demon. He ran as fast as he could, jumping over rubble, side stepping over bodies, until he came at last to the dead dragon. Alistair's heart was beating so fast he could hear it ringing in his ears. He scanned the area surrounding the dragon as a lump formed in his throat and a cold sweat broke out against his skin. Alistair turned his head and suddenly everything around him came to an abrupt halt. A large piece of debris obscured the body…but Alistair saw an arm that was wearing a Dalish glove. His lip trembled as he moved towards the arm. Alistair's legs were so shaky, he eventually fell to his knees and crawled the rest of the way. Upon reaching the gloved arm…Alistair took a deep breath and looked around the piece of rock to have his heart plummet completely out of his body. Faelwyn lay against the stone drenched in blood. Alistair took deep gulping breaths of air and pinched the bridge of his nose to try and wake himself from this nightmare. But this was reality, not a dream…and his beloved lay before him vacant of all life. Alistair picked her body up and propped her head up in his lap. Faelwyn stared up at him with empty, dead eyes. There was no sparkle, there was no trace of life…
Alistair pressed his fingers to the side of her neck to check for a pulse regardless, not wanting to believe any of this for a second. But there was no thump against his fingertips. Alistair hung his head as tears fell from his eyes. He caressed the side of Faelwyn's face and trailed a finger down the bridge of her nose and across her plump lips. Alistair felt a hand on his shoulder, but didn't bother to look up. Many had crowded around him, including his friends. Leliana was crying softly to herself and Zevran was looking at his feet. Eamon crouched down next to Alistair and shook his head.
"I'm so sorry, my boy." He whispered.
Alistair closed his eyes as more tears escaped him. He cradled Faelwyn's body in his arms as everyone else began to collect the other dead. Eamon sighed and said,
"I do not know much about the Dalish and their customs…but I will give her a proper funeral worthy of her brave soul."
Alistair didn't say anything in return. He couldn't. Eamon left him to help the others. Alistair looked into Faelwyn's green eyes one last time before he placed his hands over them and lowered the lids forever.
It took about a week before all of the dead were collected and buried. Alistair sat outside in the chilly winter air as the others began to leave. Faelwyn's body rested on a pedestal in front of him. Her funeral was over…but Alistair didn't want to leave. He wasn't ready to say goodbye to her…he didn't think he'd ever be. He stood and walked towards the stone slab on which Faelwyn rested. There were some elves that still remained that would bury her body and plant a seed to an oak tree to mark her burial site. They walked away respectively for Alistair to say his final goodbyes. Alistair stood in front of the pedestal and looked down at Faelwyn's form. She wore a circlet of flowers around her head and her hair rested against her shoulders. She wore a dress of evergreen with golden trim that fit her petite form perfectly. Her hands were folded atop her stomach. She almost looked like she was sleeping.
Alistair swallowed the lump in his throat and drew his brows together as new tears fell. He rested his hand atop of Faelwyn's and shook his head.
"Don't leave me Faelwyn…be with me always and promise me that when I answer my Calling you'll be waiting for me on the other side. I don't know how I will go on without hearing your voice or your laughter…everyday will be a battle with myself to not fall into the temptation to join you…I will love you forever, Faelwyn. You are and always will be the one bright light that shines through the darkness of this world."
Alistair lowered his face to hers and kissed her cold lips one final time. He pulled his face away after a moment and whispered,
"Ma'arlath."
Alistair smiled faintly to himself. The one time he pronounced the term of endearment right…Faelwyn couldn't hear it. He pulled his cloak around himself, shivering slightly at the cold. The winds rushed past him again, blowing the few remaining leaves on the trees completely off of them to catch them in a twirling dance. As the wind brushed past Alistair, he could've sworn he heard a faint whisper of 'Ma'arlath'…and he knew then that Faelwyn would always be with him. She was the wind, the rain, the sun, and flowers, the trees…
Alistair smiled a small smile. His love was still here…she was just waiting patiently for him to join her in the afterlife…
xXx
Alistair pulled himself out of his memories and came back to reality. Slowly the smell of the leaves on that cold day drifted away to be replaced with the smell of parchment and ink and candles burning. Alistair swallowed and wiped his eyes as he stared down at the single rose lying on his desk. He picked the flower up and placed it back in his desk drawer, turning the key in the lock once it was closed. Alistair stood and walked towards his door. His memories reawakened something in him that had been dormant for quite some time. It was high time he found his daughter and gave her exactly what she wanted.
Happiness.
Alistair turned down the hall to see light filtering through a partially closed door at the end of the hall. He slowly walked towards it, picking up on voices on the other side. Once at the door, Alistair looked into the room through the space that remained open. Emily was inside pacing back and forth and talking about something to Connor, who was seated in a plush chair by the window.
"I don't understand, Connor. Why does he want me to be miserable? All I want is to be happy, that's all I've ever wanted…and I won't be if I marry that oaf of a man." She stated.
Connor drew his brows together and sighed.
"We knew it was going to be a long shot for you to ask him to change his mind, Em. Maybe it is better this way. At least it would ensure that your children wouldn't be born with magic."
Emily turned sharply on her heel and looked at Connor. She walked towards him and shook her head.
"I've already told you that I don't care that you are a mage, Connor. I love you with all my heart."
Connor stood and caressed the side of Emily's face.
"I know you do, and I feel the same for you but…without your father's permission we can do nothing, and don't even suggest we run away. I'd be charged with high treason and kidnapping and I'd like to keep my head atop my shoulders."
Emily rested her head against Connor's chest and sighed as he wrapped his arms around her.
"I know…I don't even know if I could bring myself to do that."
"You won't have to." Alistair stated.
Emily and Connor broke apart quickly and stood flabbergasted at Alistair's intrusion. He smiled at them both and shook his head.
"The engagement between you and Raphael will be dealt with, Emily. Have no fear. Your mother will be too. I cannot stand to think of you marrying someone you do not love just as I did."
Alistair walked towards his daughter and took her hands in his.
"I want you to be happy, Emily. I know tensions are still strong between mages and non-mages, but be grateful that you two didn't fall in love during the war. Now things are as best as they can be and I see no reason why you two cannot marry. But you must promise me something."
"Anything." Connor and Emily said together.
Alistair smiled and turned to Connor.
"You must take the utmost care of her, Connor. And for now you must stay within the castle. I'm not eager to have you move out so quickly. If you can do that, then I have no objections."
Emily and Connor both nodded before Emily hugged Alistair so tightly and forcefully, he thought she'd throw him in the floor.
"Thank you, Papa. I love you." She whispered.
Alistair smiled and stroked her hair.
"I love you too."
The manner of the betrothal dissolved quickly, although Anora was more than furious. The Orlesians didn't really see it as anything to fuss over since Raphael became engaged to the princess of Antiva only a few weeks later. As Alistair saw how happy his daughter was on her wedding day, he knew he'd made the right decision. They were married outside in the castle grounds that Bloomingtide beneath the large oak tree that marked Faelwyn's grave. As Alistair sat in his chair among the other guests, he could've sworn he saw a glimmer of a person standing next to Emily. The apparition smiled and nodded towards him before turning and disappearing back into the tree. Alistair grinned. Faelwyn had blessed his daughter and Connor's wedding.
By seeing her, he knew that Emily and Connor's union would last forever, even after death…just as his own love for Faelwyn had. He had no doubts that when he answered the Calling she would be standing beside him, fighting off the Darkspawn horde, helping him leave his body, and then greeting him among the clouds. Although Alistair knew that day was some time off, he did not fear it...but instead, he welcomed it because then he would once again be truly and utterly happy.
A/N: Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed the story! :)