I Wish You Were Here
Winter had come again.
When the grey skies set in and the first snows fell on Ferelden she always returned. It was quiet then. The people would be tucked into their homes where they could stay warm. She would take the same path up the hill through the silent gravestones and if the voices of the dead whispered to her she didn't seem to notice.
The silver and blue armor she wore bore a commander's insignia. It had faded after years of wear but she hadn't replaced it. There seemed to be little point now. As she neared the tomb she pushed her hood back revealing a mass of auburn locks that were now streaked with grey. Time had left its' mark on this warrior. Grey eyes were hardened with the wisdom of years that had come to soon. The taint coursing through her blood had seen to that.
The granite was worn smooth and the snow had left a light dusting over forgotten bundles of flowers that had long since wilted and died at the foot of the tomb. Many would have removed them but not her. Time had faded the memory of the hero before her from those who should have never forgotten. The flowers were a sign that there were still some who remembered; there were still those who made the same trek she did to pay their respects. It gave her hope that even after she was no longer there to make the journey that some would. Maybe in spring they would come, passing through the long grass to clean the remnants of the seasons before from the stone monument and murmur their thanks.
A small smile softened her features as she reached out to touch the stone before her and the expression felt odd. There had been a time long ago when smiles had come so easily for her. Now they seemed almost foreign. She had never been called a cold person, not before or now, but while kind words were often given, smiles were hard to force.
She had upheld her grand façade after he had been laid to rest here. Duty was ever present and demanding so it had been easy at first. There had been so much to do she had had little time for herself and even less time to mourn the losses of the past. Since she accepted that chalice in Ostagar she had known there was no going back.
And she hadn't. She hadn't looked back or faltered. Sometimes she could still hear her father's voice in her head after all these years. Set your eyes on the horizon. Do not look back and do not falter. It wasn't often she heard her father's voice. More often it was his. Her hero. He may have sacrificed himself for the whole of Ferelden, but he had saved her.
There had been times when she thought she would falter, but he always kept her strong, even after he no longer walked beside her. He had made Ferelden safe and when she slept soundly through the night it was thanks to him.
It had been a long time before she had been forced to confront the realization of what had been lost. When the last fragile strings holding her heart together had snapped she had been sick with grief. That had been the first time she had heard his voice. Maybe it was the last attempt of a broken soul trying valiantly to survive unimaginable pain but she liked to believe it wasn't. She liked to think he was really there. When his voice broke the stillness she was able to gather herself together and remember that her survival had a purpose. She was meant to see that his sacrifice was not in vain.
The snow swirled away on the breeze as she brushed it away. Her joints cracked mercilessly as she knelt down and pressed her forehead against the stone. Every morning her body reminded her she wasn't as young as she once was. She could feel the taint pulling at her and knew the number of days left to her was waning.
"I've missed you," she murmured against the stone. A sense of calm settled over her like the embrace of a long lost lover. In a way it was. Her soul was only ever truly at peace when she was here.
The breeze caressed her face as she breathed in an out, settling her mind. Everything seemed so simple when she was here. The titles and expectations fell away and she was just Cadhla. Nothing was expected of her when she came to him.
You don't smile enough anymore. His voice came to her easily now. Over the years she had heard him more often and his voice was just as she remembered it. I wish you would smile more.
"Alistair," she breathed. Her lips quirked up into the small, lopsided grin he had always loved. How many times had he kissed her breathless just to see it? She could almost feel the soft touch of his lips against hers.
That's better. His voice was like a breath of fresh air. You work so hard; you deserve to be happy.
Her laugh was soft and the wind whipped it away as soon as it passed her lips. She had learned how important it was to make the most of happy times, no matter how fleeting. It had been a lesson hard learned, but she had made the most of it in these past years. There had been friends and new family members. She took joy in those who became a part of her order; they had often kept her on her toes and they had certainly always kept her busy. It was often thanks to them that she fell into bed exhausted at night and that helped her sleep through the nightmares that came far too often these days.
She knew this trip was different. There was a sense of finality to it that hadn't been present at the last. She hadn't slept in days and that wasn't uncommon anymore. Too often she woke screaming, drenched in sweat with the whispers of the Old Gods still clawing through her mind. She could see the looks in the eyes of those closest to her. They may not have heard her screams, but they knew.
And it wasn't just the dreams.
She sat down abruptly, the strength going out of her. She leaned back against the cold stone and stared up at the grey sky. A few errant snowflakes twirled down and brushed against her face. She was tired all the time. The world was heavier now and it seemed as if every action, no matter how trivial, sapped more of the little energy she had left. Despite that she felt oddly peaceful.
The clouds parted and shimmers of light pierced through lighting up the snow as if it were a blanket of diamonds. The sparkles raced down the hillsides and bounced off of the gravestones as the clouds shifted revealing a swatch of vivid blue. She stared up at the sky until the clouds rolled back together and the light faded.
How symbolic, she thought as her gaze dropped and she rested her head against her knees. A brief glimpse of light before the darkness claimed it again. So many things in this world mirrored that, but she didn't mind anymore. How did one appreciate all the beauty without all of the darkness? It was give and take and she had done both.
"It's time for me to go, my love," she whispered.
She had set things in order before she departed. She had returned to Highever one last time. The place she had called home for so long was much the same as it had always been, but since Alistair's death no place had truly been her haven. They had talked about it during the blight and she had realized her home was with him. Their home was together. Fate had played a cruel trick on them indeed, but she had accepted the fact that it was something she could not change.
If any of those close to her had suspected she meant not to return they hadn't said anything. It might be hard to accept for the youngest of her order, but the Calling was the fate of all wardens who did not perish in battle. They saw her as a hero—a title that still baffled her—but she was still only human, only mortal.
Stooping she brushed her hand against the stone again. "You were the best of us, and they will not forget. I will not forget."
The only reply was the low howl of wind through the stones and she pushed herself to her feet with a sigh. She would fade from history willingly as long as he was remembered. A hero who had given it all.
The Deep Roads were as stuffy as she remembered and their darkness was as deep as the endless Amaranthine Ocean. She had never liked their depths. The infinite tunnels carried new horrors with every twist and turn. This time the tunnels weren't as foreboding. They were still dark, still deadly, but that's what she was counting on. They welcomed her as if she were an old friend.
The dwarves saw her off with their typical festivity. She joined them for a night to be polite but departed the following morning before the city rose. She was too tired to delay the inevitable and she wanted to disappear far into the dark tunnels, not be another skeleton of some unlucky soul who had died on the roads' threshold.
She fought her way into the deep, pausing to rest only when the tingling presence of darkspawn faded from her head. Once half asleep and exhausted she had thought she saw Alistair next to her but when she had reached out to touch his face he had disappeared. She had rolled over and tears had soaked her bedroll as she cried herself to sleep. It felt like death was toying with her and his appearance was just another trick.
The next morning however she rose with a renewed resolve. She would meet death bravely just as he had. In the past year she had become a ghost of the person she has once been but that morning she ignited that spark of her old self one last time.
She continued on through the darkness felling those darkspawn that crossed her path. Even as her physical strength faded her determination remained steadfast. When her muscles screamed their protest as the swarm of darkspawn surrounded and closed upon her she faced them proudly. She was Cadhla Cousland, Commander of the Grey. She was not afraid.
"For Ferelden. For the Grey Wardens." She took a deep breath and resolve darkened her grey eyes as she raised her blade a final time. "For Alistair."
The light startled her at first. As she faded back into consciousness she was confused and disoriented. Their blades and hands and teeth had torn into her as she had felt the life leave her tired body. So how was this possible?
Her eyes fluttered open and she realized this was not the darkened tunnels. She was in some brilliant, beautiful place. Trees sprang from the moss-covered ground and the golden sunlight filtered through their branches and set the forest floor ablaze. She inhaled a sweet lungful of air and reveled in the fact that she felt young again. Alive, even.
The rustle of leaves startled her and she froze at the sight of him. A grin was spread across his handsome face and his eyes danced as she took a step closer. He looked just the same as she remembered.
Her heart leapt in her chest as she reached to touch his face and she felt herself melt when he didn't disappear, when his hand covered hers and pressed it against the warmth of his skin.
"My love, welcome home."