Disclaimer: Alright. The story and characters within are owned by Bioware. I can only take half credit for making a Cousland. Be forewarned that you shouldn't be read unless you've played through the game. It will be quite spoilerish otherwise. Please let me know what you think of this piece of work. Would it you be eager to read more? What are your thoughts? Feel free to leave me some feedback and I'll proceed from there. This idea was bursting to come out and I happily obliged. Thanks for reading!!
She was certain she saw him in her final moment, she managed a faint smile at that. In that brief climatic explosion, everything vanished.
Sinking...
The world melted away in that brilliant moment of light. The contents of her life slipped away like a gentle tide. Her life, her family, her love and her last sacrifice - all of it were swept away in the ebb and flow of this tranquil amber stream.
She felt everything around her and yet nothing at all. Words nor thoughts could not give this transition a respectable description. It simply was and she was now a part of it. As she became part of the current, she could feel everyone that had touched her life, from her parents to even those she had faced in combat. Everyone was at peace here, all a part of a whole. She could feel as she started to merge with this everflow, her thoughts and memories joining in stride with those most familiar to her.
She had never felt at such peace as she did in this moment. The warmth, the joy and the completion brought utter contentment to her being. Everything that had come before meant little here as did the span of time. Her very essence was part of this radiant progression, welcoming and joining with the many lives that had come before.
She was no longer a Cousland. She was no longer Lady or Grey Warden. She was... was...
Return...
As the voice echoed through her and within the amber flow, the river started to recede from around her, flinching and rejecting the source of this forbidden touch.
No! Don't go! Don't leave me! Please!
Her thoughts reached out in desperate attempt, the ribbons sliding out of reach as she felt something cold touch her very core. Icy tendrils ensnared, seeping away that warmth.
Return, A...
She had become an unwelcome obstruction. She could feel as the cold started to tug hard on her, ripping her strand by strand until she was fully dismembered from the light. The shock was overwhelming, releasing a echo across the flow.
Return, Aydalis.
Her name. How it stung! With the advent of her name, the many memories of her past life flooded back in without rhyme or reason. Overwhelming, disconnected, everything falling into the wrong place.
Voices of her detached past bombarded her.
'I don't know about you, but I'm hoping for a miracle.'
'I have a plan, you see. A way out. The loop in your hole.'
'A man is made by the quality of his enemies. Maric told me that once.'
'Enchantment?'
'We stand on the precipice, before the greatest battle of our age... I wonder if the heroes of old ever felt like this.'
'Well, look here. Bryce Cousland's little spitfire, all grown up and still playing the man.'
The icy hold dragged her further and further away, from that brilliance descending into the very dense fog below.
*** Weisshaupt ***
"Come! Come quickly!" A guard announced at the top of his lungs. Once he had the attention of couple of fellow Grey Wardens, they rushed into the night, torches held aloft.
The guard guided them to the hallowed tombs of those honored for vanquishing each Blight. The massive doors stood open to the elements. The captain on duty took to the forefront, shining his torch close to the ground.
The armor given to a warden-commander laid strewn about, starting from the door and into the further darkness. On closer inspection of the armor, it was newly made. So they aren't here for the riches... Who could be so demented to disturb such a revered place?
The small unit ventured into Aydalis Cousland's tomb, finding all kinds of broken equipment and other pieces of her armor and effects laying about. Her remains were gone from her stone resting place, the only thing that could account for being missing.
"How did this happen?!" The captain seethed, holding the breastplate up to empathize his point.
The guard blanched. "I d-don't know. I was planning to change shifts with Herrold..."
"You two, return to the hall, get every lazy ass available out here and try to find Herrold. You three, come with me, let us try to find this thief. Be on your guard. If they have the means to break into our vaults, they've come prepared." The captain pointed at the guard. "You stay with me as well."
As three guards tried to assess the tomb with more torchlight, the captain turned back to join his men.
No sooner that he turned, the captain would never make it into the tomb, nor anywhere else. It had only taken one brief moment of deception, the false guard made one quick, precise cut through the captain's throat. The sound of his dead weight hitting the ground would attract the rest.
The guard had to be prepared. "A bit sloppy, but a little carnage gets the blood pumping."
When a full unit arrived, they found the bloody aftermath of their former brethren with little in the way of a true lead to hunt down.
None of them, even the false guard, noticed the eyes of a lone dog watching them with quiet interest.
***
Time had resumed, yet it was only a shade of itself in this blurred, uncertain crag that Ayda found herself. The cold presence was gone and now she was here alone. It felt so very odd to feel all in one place again. All in one piece.
She tried to remember. Her memories roared in her mind, out of sequence and all flooding to the surface at once. A small cry issued from her, unable to steel herself completely in the onslaught. Whatever or whoever that trespasser had been left her a jumbled mess of what she had once was.
Eventually, the cacophony offered up a word: Fade.
"Correct." A welcoming voice cut through the swath of her mind. "Now open your eyes and see."
Her vision was returned to her, further connecting her back down into a singular being. When she could focus enough, she found herself standing in front of a motionless, black lake surrounded in all directions by tall, green-gold grass. The sky was darkened in twilight with no stars to be seen.
"Remember the sensation of touch."
She looked down at her toes, kneading them into the soft sand of the shore. As a gentle wind passed by, she closed her eyes in the rush of feeling every part of herself again, starting to feel like being her old self again. She didn't want this. Not at all.
"Speak."
Ayda shook her head, her fingers covering her eyes. She wanted to shut everything out. It was a futile gesture, she knew.
"Join me by the fire."
Her eyes opened, falling upon the small campfire by the shore only a few steps from her. When had that gotten there?
"It's always been here. You hadn't noticed it until now." The voice beckoned from a figure sitting on a dead log by the fire, poking at the embers with a long, thin stick.
She couldn't recall when she took a seat adjacent to the figure, her eyes staring blankly into the depths of the fire.
"What do you see?"
Her voice found itself at that moment. "My life. Why is it...? Why am I...?" She groaned inwardly, her thoughts railing against her once more.
"That is the question, isn't it?" The figure stirred the fire a bit more. She tried to concentrate on this being for the first time, seeing yet not able to focus on its true form.
"Who are you?" She managed without receiving a mental backlash.
The figure shook its head. "You are not meant to be here, Aydalis. I was able to save you from being pulled completely through, but I am afraid that the path I set you on will be no less perilous."
It was hard to concentrate on his words, her hands returning to clasp her face as another wave assaulted her. "Return me."
"If I could, you would not be asking me such. It is beyond what I can do in my present state."
Her head rested in her hands, her elbows propped up on her knees. The less sensory she took in, the easier she found it to listen and find her voice. "How do I return?"
"There is no easy way to return. It was never meant to be invaded in such a way. It is not to say many have not tried before and only obtained small pieces, yet someone managed to free your essence from the fold completely. It is no small feat."
"So you didn't bring me here?"
"Like I said before, I plucked you away and now you are here. I could not glean anything from this outside force as to its intentions. The only knowledge I can impart is that it was powerful blood magic performed in the mortal realm."
Her form felt heavier with every word. "What should I do?"
"That is hard to advise. Your essence is not as it was when first created. When you merged with the archdemon Urthemiel, your spirit was the greater, inheriting what was left of the old dragon god after its corruption."
She cringed, her memories rushing into her senses in a violent wave.
A tall man stood before her, adorned in battered dark-blue armor. His helm tucked under his arm with sword and shield kept on his back. His light-brown eyes held such unspoken sadness despite a loose smile hanging on his lightly-stubbled chin.
His voice almost felt like velvet over her battle-heightened senses, standing in front of fortifications and burning wreckage within Denerim. "But there's no use in arguing about it, is there? We don't have time and... you are a stubborn, stubborn woman."
"That I am." It was hard for her to even speak, yet so much harder to meet his steady gaze.
Alistair ran a gauntlet-covered hand over the back of his neck. "I guess this is the last chance we'll get... before this is finished, one way or another."
It took a great deal of resolve to keep herself there, smiling a little too effortlessly. She placed her hand gently on his warm cheek. "I love you, Alistair."
Without a moment's hesitation, Alistair pulled her into a semi-awkward embrace, armor permitting. As his lips hovered over hers in their final embrace, his words drowned out the sounds of imminent battle.
"And I love you. Always."
Ayda felt a touch on her shoulder, her head snapping from her hands as the figure steadied her. Mildly shaken, she settled back on the log once she came to her senses.
"Why did that feel so real? That was a memory, wasn't it?"
The figure nodded. "Yes, the Fade can make your past come back to life before you. You will need to be careful not to be caught within its hold. It will be a difficult road you have to travel. It is fortunate that I am able to send someone to aid you along your way."
As he spoke those words, two women approached the fire. They both seemed familiar. The figure squeezed the hand of the first woman who smiled warmly in return.
The other woman circled around the fire, approaching her. "Ah, you probably don't recognize this young face of mine." She chuckled. "And here I thought I these old bones were going to get a chance to rest."
Ayda squinted at the woman standing before her, watching as the young face reverted to the age she would remember. Her heart leapt in both happiness and sank as the pang of guilt hit her.
"Wynne... why are you here?"
Wynne wore that warm smile of hers. "I was passing along on my way when this nice man asked me for a favor. He asked if I could guide you along the Fade. How could I refuse?"
Ayda rubbed her temple in brief pain. "If this is the Fade, how do I know this isn't an elaborate trick set up by a curious demon?"
"You are already dead." The figure, taking the form of a man, stated. "This you already knew, but you are on same footing as the demons and spirits now. However, we are not past the Black City. They can not venture here. At least, not without a great deal of focused power that most can not manage alone."
As Wynne took a seat next to her, Ayda stared at the fire again. "I suppose I'll simply have to believe." Her eyes flickered over to the unnamed woman, trying to place her face. "What is the purpose of traveling the Fade? How can I return when my body..."
The man-figure held up a hand, stopping her in mid-sentence. "You will return as my avatar."
Ayda returned her gaze to him. Her thoughts scrambled to be heard: The Maker. "You're the Maker." She stated unnecessarily, needing to hear the words. "I was never the most pious of people. Wynne here would be an excellent choice."
Wynne shook her head, tossing a piece of dry bark into the flames. "My life has been lived quite fully. The Spirit gave me enough time to assist with rebuilding the Circle and help Alistair out when I could. That boy needs a lot of looking after." She laughed, continuing. "I'm content to help you along your way. Then I can rest."
Ayda felt her heart twist at the mention of 'rest'. "Will this put me back on the path to reach that kind of serenity again?"
The man-figure nodded. "If you succeed, you will become mortal, returning to life at the same age you left it. When you arrive, there will be someone awaiting you."
"If I succeed? Is there a chance to fail?"
"I will not lie to you. As I will grant you my protection to shield you from most sight in the Fade, my influence is not as it once was. However, your soul shines so remarkably, the archdemon purified in your essence and you becoming stronger for it. This will be your power even as you walk the earth again."
"My power? What am I to accomplish with the Blight vanquished?" She paused, her eyes widening. "Did the Blight not end?"
"Your sacrifice brought the Blight to a close, that is true. With each Blight, each dragon is freed from its corruption. This taint does not need to remain as it was never meant for the punishment given to be perverted this far. It is time for it to come to an end and this is where you come in."
Ayda shook her head, all this input flooding her already overloaded senses. "There have been Wardens before who have vanquished the Blight. Why didn't they ever come to this fire and have this night-time chat?"
"I could not reach them in time before they completely dissolved into the fold. Now, I can not reach it without risking bringing undue notice upon myself. I did not expect to be able to reach one as yourself till every archdemon had been purified."
Ayda rose to her feet a tad too quickly, nearly losing her balance before Wynne was at her side, her hand gripping her shoulder. She smiled faintly at her. "So that's it, is it? How will I bring the taint to an end?"
"That can be discussed along the way." The man-figure tossed the stick into the fire. "If I keep you here elaborating every aspect, time will pass too quickly in the corporeal plane."
He reached into the flickering flames, pulling out a tall whitewood staff from its depths as the fire disappeared within. Two griffins perched atop, holding an iridescent white gem in the center as the bark spiraled downward until forming the rest of the shaft. The man-figure stood, holding the staff out to Ayda. "This will connect us and assist in lighting the way through the Fade."
Ayda took the staff with such reverence. She had been a warrior in life and had only used staves in practice sessions. It would honestly have a better place in Wynne's hands, but she knew this isn't something to crack wise about. She nodded her head, gazing at the visage of lost griffins of yore.
The man-figure took the unnamed woman's hand, placing it on his arm. "I know your heart is filled with questions. Answers will come, I promise. I will aid you as much as I can as will the allies in my service. When you are ready, step into the lake. Until we meet again, I will be watching over you both." In a rush of wind, they were gone within the tall grass.
Wynne smoothed back her hair out of old habit. "It seems we have quite a walk ahead of us."
"Wynne. I apologize for what I asked you to do." Ayda admitted after a long pause, staring off in the direction the two had left in. She let the staff touch the ground for the first time, it stood almost half a foot above her.
"If I didn't want to do you that last favor, I would have said no. It was my choice and I stand by it. You came to me with such unmoving determination. I knew you were set on your path." The old woman ventured away from the remains of the campsite, towards the lake.
As Ayda followed after, another blinding flash ripped through her.
The three nights before the final assault. The stand of the ancient alliance against a nearly insurmountable force. So much needed to be done and so much was already prepared. The night was cold and crisp, yet it could not cool the depths of her being.
Ayda practiced heavily with her sword in the moonlit courtyard, going through each routine in kind. It did little to assuage the heaviness that permeated her being. She should be reveling in one final night within Alistair's embrace. It wouldn't take much to convince him. It took everything she had to keep herself from falling apart. She had made a decision; the third option was lost.
Her swings grew faster, screaming through the chilled air as her anger found no solace in her usual training. When she thought she was alone, there was one who was waiting for her to stop.
Wynne approached at a wide breadth, coming into Ayda's field of vision. "Slow down, child, or you'll have nothing left for the days to come."
Upon hearing her motherly tone, Ayda breathed hard, letting the momentum she built up die down to a stop. "You say that as if I could calm down on the night such as this. So much is at stake."
Wynne grabbed up the coat haphazardly tossed on the wall nearby, bringing it over now that the swordplay was over. "I can understand not being able to sleep. As I risk being labeled a nosy old woman for this, why not spend the night resting with Alistair? Or is it his snoring that's driven you out into this frost?"
Ayda snorted, sheathing her runic blade within its worn scabbard at her side. "I see what you're trying to do. And no, his snoring didn't drive me out here. I... just can't face him right now."
Wynne arched an eyebrow, holding the coat out to Ayda. "It sounds like there's a story behind this."
As Ayda shrugged into the coat, she related the course the night had taken: Riordan's revelation on how destroying the archdemon would also kill the Grey Warden who delivered the final blow and Morrigan's third option that involved her laying with Alistair to conceive a child that very night that would absorb the archdemon once killed while saving that Grey Warden in the process.
They had walked together through courtyard at a slow pace. As Ayda divulged those words, she was able to shoulder the burden with a cooler head. Wynne didn't interrupt, nodding here and there when need arose.
"I stood in front of Morrigan with that choice in my hands. It would've been so easy to tell her that it was a good idea, convince Alistair somehow that sleeping with Morrigan was something I wanted to happen and all Grey Wardens get to live another day. So easy and I said no."
Wynne nodded once, her eyes gazing upwards at the night sky. "I think you made the right decision. Whatever Morrigan had planned to use, I'm certain it wouldn't result in anything that didn't serve her and Flemeth's interests. Did she honestly offer that choice simply because you've become her friend? No. Like you said, she was sent here for this very purpose, regardless of her feelings."
"And that leaves me with one choice, Wynne." Ayda stopped by the bottom of the courtyard stairs, glancing at the keep thoughtfully. "I know Alistair would never allow himself to sit out on this fight. I told Riordan that I wouldn't mind taking the final blow, now that I think about it, it will only spur Alistair to make a reckless decision. One that he should not make. The kingdom needs him."
Wynne huffed, her breath visible on the air for a few seconds. "And this is where I say that Alistair needs you. However, if Riordan is unable to make the last stand, how can you stop our young king from rushing ahead?"
"That's where I need to ask you a favor. If I have to get down on the ground and beg, I will. I can call upon all the resources..." Ayda started to ramble, her eyes darting feverishly as she tried to think what she could offer.
"Stop." Wynne motioned dismissively, her anger sitting plainly on her face. "You think I wouldn't do this for you? You've become one of the closest friends I've ever had the pleasure to know. If you are completely, absolutely determined, I will do this task for you."
Ayda turned to Wynne sharply, her light-brown eyes looking into hers. Her face was set in stone, her gaze unwavering. "Thank you, Wynne. Thank you, thank you..." She fell to one knee, her head bowed to hide the tears that threatened to fall as well.
"Get up! Get up!" Wynne shook Ayda's shoulder twice, feeling quite taken back and embarrassed at such sudden breakdown. She could hear a few sniffles before Ayda rose back to her feet, wiping at her eyes quickly with the back of her hand.
Ayda reached into the coat pocket, bringing forth a tidy stack of letters. "I meant to give these to Alistair. While I only meant to write one, I wrote several as I felt the one before it didn't do it justice. I stood outside his door before coming out here, but I chickened out of all things to waffle on." She bowed her head. "C-could you please give these to him after?"
Wynne silently held her hand open, receiving the letters without another word or gesture. She managed a tight smile. "Only letters for him? Everyone might be a bit sad you didn't write them..." She let out a honest laugh once Ayda slipped another stack of letters into her grasp.
Ayda smiled broadly, her teeth flashing as she could find solace in Wynne's given word. She ran her fingers through her long blonde hair, enjoying the feel of the cool bite of the night air. They strode up the stairs together slowly, one step at a time.
"There you are. And here, I thought you had run off to leave poor me all by his lonesome." Alistair called down from the top of the stairs, his tunic half-tucked into his barely-laced pants. His hair was a mess and there was a half-eaten roll in one hand.
"My word, young man! Did you run around the Chantry in the same fashion?" Wynne shielded her eyes, more out of amusement than actual shock.
"Why, yes. This style was all the rage in the Chantry." Alistair took a glance down at his state of dress, shoving the rest of the bread into his mouth. "I gu-eess I shh-ould..."
Ayda tried to hold a disapproving gaze, her lip twitching more and more as she tried to hold her amusement in.
Wynne closed her eyes, lowering her hand once she reached the top of the stairs to face Alistair. "I leave the young king in your hands, my dear. You get the pleasure of dealing with..." She paused, trying to find the right word and ultimately failing. "this." She chuckled merrily, waving a hand as she slid through keep door left slightly open in his wake.
"Hey. What's that supposed to mean? THIS?" Alistair called after her. "Wynne? W--ynne?" He wore a slight pout, marching down the stairs barefooted.
"What exactly will I do with you? You're going to catch a chill with no coat or boots on." Ayda chided motherly, trying to meet him halfway before he got too far from the warmth of the keep.
Alistair raised his eyebrows, brushing his fingers through his reddish-brown mess of hair, not helping in the slightest. "Oh! I could think of a lot of things." He paused. "Wait a second, is this one of those trick question women ask to get the advantage?"
"I wasn't aware that I had lost the advantage, my dear Alistair." She laughed under her breath, empathizing the last three words.
With one deft swoop, Alistair scooped her right off her feet, into his solid embrace. "Methinks you have, dear lady." He climbed up the stairs, reaching the top with little effort. "Besides, how am I supposed to wear a coat when you're conveniently wearing mine?"
"Fine, fine. You win, my liege." Ayda remarked drolly. She knew she'd get a half-pout for referring to him in his official title. "Oh, come now. I was only trying to be silly."
"I know." His tone had sobered, the laughter had slipped from his usual jovial expression. "I just have doubts..."
Ayda touched his cheek with a gentle touch, locking his somber gaze with her own. "We all have decisions to make. Everything will work out. I'm sure of it." She pulled close, placing a reassuring kiss to his lips. "I have the utmost confidence in you. Always know that."
"Can you give me more of that utmost confidence? It's exactly what I was looking for when I came out here." He chuckled half-heartedly. "Preferably in a warmer setting."
"So picky, you are." Ayda smirked. "Back to Alistair's quarters!" She announced a bit louder than usual.
Alistair returned the smile. "Great. Now everyone will be at my... Aha! I got it. Give them the ruse while we sneak to yours instead. Genius."
Again, Ayda was jolted back into her current state of mind, feeling somewhat drained after that recently surfaced memory. Wynne propped her up once again until she came to.
"I'm still out of sorts, Wynne."
Wynne shook her head, releasing her as they both stood at the edge of the black lake. "Andraste was kind enough to let me know this might be a symptom. She was glad that you were mostly intact. If you ever feel a spell coming on, just tug on my sleeve."
Ayda raised her eyebrows. "That's why she looks familiar. The statues do her little justice." She added, noticing the lake was full of stars while the sky above had been noticeably empty. "I usually don't get much prior warning, but I'm starting to feel more together after each spell. I guess this is simply a way to sort everything back to where it should be."
"What did you remember?"
"When I asked for the favor and the letters." Ayda admitted, leaning a bit more weight on the staff than she realized.
Wynne stared out over the lake. "Don't worry. Everything was taken care of. Whatever you wrote him, I'm sure he followed. He became extremely driven to reunite the kingdom."
"Wait." Ayda cut Wynne off before she could explain further. "How much time has passed? If you're here, that means..."
"Just realizing that, are you?" Wynne wore that calm smile of hers. "As for time, it's hard to say since I arrived here. My last days were close to ten years after the Blight came to an end."
Ayda gaped ever-so-slightly, shaking her head as she brought herself back together. "Lets get a move on. I wouldn't be surprised by simply chatting here that another five years have gone by."
They both nodded in unison, stepping into the lake at the same time.
And like that, they were gone into the starry lake.