Disclaimer: Dragon Age: Origins, and the characters, locations, et cetra within, all belong to BioWare and Electronic Arts. I am not, in any way, affiliated with either company or any other companies that may hold some claim. I do not claim to own or to have created any of their property, I am merely poking at their world. I make no money nor do I get any kind of monetary like gain from this story, merely the simple pleasure of writing it.
Author' Notes: I wrote quite some time ago, not long after the game was released (i.e. at the end of 2009). Was going through my prompt and writing journal, found it and thought I'd share it.
Sereda Aeducan poked at the campfire with a stick, her free left hand lazily tracing the grooves and bumps of the old Aeducan shield that rested against her legs. The night air was cool, slightly damp and it nipped at her flesh. Flesh covered in the silken clothing she had been exiled in, now well on its way to being faded and threadbare. It had become her staple out of armor clothing for lounging around the camp. A reminder. She frowned, staring deeply into the dancing flames of the fire. It felt as though it had been a lifetime since Bhelen, with the help of his scouts, convinced the Assembly and more importantly, not her father, that she had killed Trian.
The frown, deeply rooted on her face, eased a bit as her thoughts found their way to Gorim and seeing him once again in Denerim. At the time she had been faintly jealous that he had married, but her joy in finding him alive and well, living a happy life as a merchant made all the difference. He would always have a place in her heart, how could he not? A pleasant memory of her past and she would owe him until her last breath for his gift of her family shield and the note from her father.
Letting out a sigh, a scowl darkened her face, her thoughts going back to Orzammar once more. She was an Aeducan no longer, to her people she wasn't merely dead, it was as though she never existed. Officially at least. For now she was foreigner in a foreign place, with foreign customs and surrounded by strange people she didn't entirely understand. People who had never lifted a finger to help her, no, not her. Never lifted a finger to help the dwarven people, to push back the tide of Darkspawn. Yet, even so, here she was now, trying to save these same people from their own horrid tide.
There was so much she just didn't understand and yet what should have been a burden, her being a Grey Warden, all of it, was not. It was a treasured release. It was something to take her mind off a past that tried to drown her by fighting for a future for people of Ferelden, Thedas, perhaps even the world.
Again she let out a heavy sigh as she felt the eyes of her rag tag group of followers on her back and shook her head. For the shortest of moments she had convinced herself she was alone, only to be brought crashing back down into her new and foreign reality.
The frown that had adorned her face, for what now seemed like ages, dissipated when she felt a large heavy hand press against her shoulder. Warmth filled her body and a smile threatened to curve her lips when she felt the movement followed by the weight of someone sitting down beside her. Raising her head she looked back at the handsome human male who sat with his back to the fire looking down on her with a smug grin upon his face.
"Sooo, I couldn't help but notice a beautiful, if height challenged, fellow Warden sitting all sulky by the fire," Alistair began, the worry shining in his eyes belying the his grin and teasing tone, "And I thought: 'It just wouldn't be proper of me, to not help, a damsel in distress'."
Sereda laughed then, a quick burst that almost felt as though it were forced from her without her consent. Smiling openly now, as more happiness welled up inside her from Alistair's joking concern than she could ever remember feeling before. She tugged at the shield weighing heavily against her leg and smiled, "Well, you know me, I couldn't just sit here and let you be bored with out a distressed damsel to help."
Alistair's grin widened a bit, the worry in his eyes seeming to settle minutely as he leaned down, his face hovering a scant hands length in front of Sereda's, "Mmm right, you do know how to keep me entertained. I'll give you that. So tell me, that Gorim fellow we met earlier. Now, I'm not one for eavesdropping, buuut... it seemed to me there was a Qunari in the room between you two."
Sereda chuckled, raising an eyebrow as she looked up at Alistair, his movement closer to her had caused a lump to form in her throat and she suddenly felt very hot. "What about Gor... wait a Qunari? Sten was in camp Alistair and we were outside in the market, not in a room..."
Alistair rolled his eyes and sighed, laughing under his breath, "Oh Maker. Right, Dwarf, right. I mean there was something uncomfortable between the two of you, that you didn't bring up."
"I see..." Sereda said quietly, biting her lip when Alistair tilted his head and moved his face a scant bit closer to her own, "Well, er, obviously you don't believe in eavesdropping. We discussed it, albeit quickly, Gorim and I did."
"Oh? And what is it that you discussed?" Alistair asked, his voice dripping with a mix of curiosity and faux innocence.
Sereda sighed and inwardly cursed herself when she felt her cheeks growing even hotter than the rest of her body. She shook her head and closed her eyes, hoping that not looking at the beautiful amber eyes of the other Grey Warden would calm her, "We... were together once. It was a secret, and a long time ago, well it seems long ago. It was before I left Orzammar, right before. He was my second and he was always with me. I... loved him."
"Aha! So, is this what has you so upset? That he has moved on?"
"No." Sereda said simply, opening her eyes once again and cursing herself for doing so.
"I see." Alistair said quietly, shifting so that he was sitting one leg on either side of the log and placed a hand on each of his female companions shoulders gently coaxing her to face him, "Then what is bothering you? Such a sad expression should never be on a face such as yours."
Sereda shrugged weakly, her body felt like putty in Alistair's hands, waiting to be molded into shape. She swallowed and shook her head slowly, "It's nothing Alistair, honestly. It's stupid."
"If it's nothing then it's not stupid, therefore it is something." Alistair said with a grin as he leaned forward, his breath washing over the reddened cheeks of the female dwarf, "See what I did? I used logic. So tell me what this something is."
Sereda laughed quietly, shivering as his warm breath slid across her heated face, "My father is dead Alistair and he died likely thinking I hated him, that I'd never forgive him. I'd have rather he died believing me a traitor than die not knowing how much I loved him and that, of course I forgave him."
Alistair frowned and gave Sereda the faintest of nods before dropping his hands down her back and pulling her close to him. He leaned his head down pressing his cheek against hers and ran his lips against the curve of her ear and whispered, "Oh Maker Sereda, one has only to know and speak with you about your father to know how much you loved and looked up to him. He knew you, so he knew you loved him and forgave him. What he didn't know was whether you should, if he deserved it."
Sereda closed her eyes tightly, pressing her form, so much smaller than Alistair's, against him. Burying her face into the warm and safe crook of his neck she sniffed and shook her head, "I miss him so much Alistair and I feel so lost. It's like I don't belong anywhere."
Alistair placed the faintest of kisses against the delicate curve of Sereda's ear before pulling back from her. His hands moved to gently envelop the tops of her arms and he looked at her, "Maker's breath, but you're beautiful. I am a lucky man. Lucky that you are here, with me. If you feel you don't, can't, belong anywhere else, know that you will always belong with me."
Sereda smiled softly, silent tears falling from her eyes at Alistair's words and when she watched him lean forward and felt his lips on her own she knew, foreigner or not, wherever Alistair was, that was more than enough for her.