Hey guys! Welcome to my Alternate Endings otherwise known as the "If" series! More or less, I'm going to try and put these in chronological order as according to the Heirs of Honor plot line and in relation to each other. I'll explain a little bit at the beginnings of the chapter about what's supposed to have happened in order for these particular endings to have occurred, why they didn't, etc... Cool? Cool.
This first one is an alternate ending for JOWAN! I know that some of you guys were sad when I killed him mid-story, and let me tell you right now, that was not the original ending I had for him. THIS is the original ending! It was scrapped because it made no sense to have Solona go to Redcliffe Castle, and I would have had to have a whole other arc about saving her from the nasty Templars hiding out there. In essence, it was scrapped because of logistics. This chapter would have occurred INSTEAD OF #36: Dreaming, and then the following chapters (37-40) would have had to have been slightly altered to compensate. Anyway, enjoy!
Having time to herself was not something that she had been used to since leaving the Circle. She had always been running, or healing, or occupying her time helping out the elves at the estate. However, here in Redcliffe she was expected to do none of those things, especially not healing. The host of Templars stationed here to look after Connor were an intimidating enough force that she didn't want to risk any magic at all within the castle grounds, lest they feel it and suspect her as the apostate she was.
The cover story that she had been sent to Ostagar and found herself later in service to the Couslands was already planned out and agreed upon if the Templars got suspicious. But in the end, Fergus had made it very clear that even though he respected her for what she'd done for himself and his brother, he wouldn't defy Chantry law in protecting her overly much if the Templars caught wind of her mage abilities and decided to make an issue of it.
Aedan had silently agreed, but Solona knew that he was lying. The long look they had exchanged while Fergus was explaining his opinion as diplomatically as possible had been enough reassurance if she couldn't have already guessed. They had been through too much for too long for him to docilely hand her over to Templars now. She knew he would fight for her freedom, and it warmed her heart to have earned such loyalty, but at the same time knew she would flee without him if it came to that.
Now that the Cousland brothers and Teagan, a long-time friend, were off together somewhere exchanging stories and deep in their cups, she found herself restless. Sitting in her room seemed like a waste of time when she was used to being so busy, and so had taken to walking around the estate.
A thought occurred to her mid-step, a trickle of thought rearing up from the depths of her memory. It was months ago, the mention of a mage here. Her heart stilled, her thoughts racing. She wondered if it were possible that he were still alive, if for some reason he would be whole and breathing. Her steps carried her to some guards, and after an awkward line of questioning she got directions to the dungeon and told to enter at her own risk. Thanking them, she hurried off toward the cellars, ignoring the strange looks that she received for hurrying along like she was.
The stairs took her to an unfurnished and unfriendly looking part of the castle, and for the first time saw what had been in the rumors. Corpses, decaying slowly, were still lying around in the basement where they'd fallen, the cleaning crew that she assumed was supposed to deal with such matters obviously not have gotten to attend down here just yet. Covering her nose, Solona navigated her way forward, stopping when she entered a large stone room and saw a Templar on the other side, standing guard with his arms over his chest and remaining perfectly still.
She glanced at the Templar as she passed, wary that the man was watching her through the gap in his slotted helmet and clenched her fists, glad that she'd had the foresight to acquire a pair of thin gloves to wear that would hide the scars on her palms. He didn't stop her as she walked into the narrow hallways of the dungeon, shivering when she crossed the threshold both because of the cold of the cellar and the noticeable drain of her magic when the templar's temporary wards took effect. Any doubts that they were keeping a mage prisoner down here were gone, though the knowledge that no smite would leave her entirely helpless reassured her somewhat.
She walked along the row of cells, searching the near dark for the prisoner she was looking for and stopped abruptly when she noticed a huddled form in the back of one of the cells. Her mouth went dry, her heart leaping in her throat and approached the bars until she could almost touch them. "Jowan?"
The black-haired mage looked up, more unkempt, lanky and generally disheartened than she'd ever seen the man. A look of fear, awe and disbelief quickly took over his uncomprehending gaze the moment he recognized her, the heartache she saw in his expression resonating with her own. A deep flush of sadness washed over her, and she wanted nothing more than to reach out and comfort the man, her fingers twitching to do so but she did not move.
He rose unsteadily, the months of imprisonment showing clearly in the gauntness of his face, the unnatural leanness of his body. As a mage, Jowan had never been particularly defined with muscle, but what muscle tone he might have had was wasted away now, from poor food and lack of ability to exercise. At first he simply stared at her, widened eyes seemingly unnaturally large on his terribly pale face, then he took a shambling step forward, and another, and then he was at the bars of the cage. "Sola…"
She felt tears prick at the back of her eyes, her heart reaching out to her childhood friend and she gripped the rusted iron bars. "Oh Jowan… what have you done?"
His disbelieving look of wonder quickly transformed into one of anguish and shame, and he truned his face aside, looking down. "I've done terrible things." He admitted quietly, voice trembling but resolved. "I've lied to a lot of people to get to where I am now. I regret all of it. I'd take it back if I could, make it right. Most of all I regret lying to you. To Lilly… You didn't… you were just trying to help…" He met Solona's eyes, a rueful grin on his haggard features. "I suppose I am still a coward to you, right? Liar, blood mage, traitor. I suppose I'm finally where I deserve to be."
She bit her lip then slowly worked off her right glove. "I understand better now, what you went through. Our reasons were different at first, yours to become more powerful but…" She flexed her hand then showed her scar-lined palm to Jowan. His eyes went wide, taken aback by the realization that she too was a blood mage. "I have felt the desperation of seeing someone I love fall into danger and being unable to do anything about it. In this, I understand."
Jowan swallowed a few times, staring at her hand until she withdrew it, folding it at her side. Even then she still looked like a fish out of water, then seemed to regain some of his sense. "I'm glad I got to see you."
She inclined her head, smiling sadly. "I as well. The Arl seems like he is a generous and kind man, but the Templars want your head."
"The only reason I'm alive…" He said gravely, peering hard at Solona through the bars. "Is because I am evidence, and the Warden asked for some small measure of mercy on my behalf in accordance with what little I could help during… the crisis."
She nodded, having gathered as much from what Aedan had said. The Arl hadn't seemed particularly willing to go into detail about the event and she forwent the opportunity to practice her mind reading due to his station. But others talked, and Theron and Alistair had said enough about the ordeal to make rough guesses. Corpses, demons, the Arl's son, and Jowan's assassination attempt. As she'd come to understand, the Arl's wife was the root of the problem, protecting their only son from the Circle by hiring Jowan. He had exasperated the problem, playing the pawn in a larger plot on behalf of Loghain to have Eamon murdered, or at least incapacitated. It was nasty business all around, and in the end there was much death and now a host of Templars protecting the place, especially the Arl's son.
"They're going to execute you…" Solona whispered, in part to gauge Jowan's reaction and in part to try and accept the fact herself.
If Jowan held any illusions about what was going to happen to him, he did not show it, instead looking sad but resolved. "I know." He replied, meeting her eyes briefly before resuming a study of the rusted bars. "I wish… I had been able to do more. To make some sort of amends, but I will have to be content with this."
She blinked, not at all expecting the resolute tone in his weary voice. "You are willing to die for your crime?"
"Yes." He nodded, and leaned his forehead against the bars tiredly. "I was doing something good with Connor. Teaching him magic so that he could stay with his parents and have a real life. I… betrayed that trust. I knew the Arl was a good man, and yet I was so blinded by my own weakness that I was easily pushed into that assassination. I… I will take responsibility for that. I'm tired… Of everything. Fooling myself, trying to convince others that I'm innocent of my crimes… I just want it done now."
"Give me your hand." Solona suddenly said, her voice low and hard. Jowan looked confused briefly, then held out his hand, palm up. Being his right it didn't have near the amount of scarring that his left had, the non-dominant hand taking most of the abuse during his time dabbling in blood magic. Solona seized his hand suddenly, withdrawing her knife swiftly and ran the blade over Jowan's palm, the razor sharp edge easily slitting his skin. He yelped and jerked backward in surprised pain, eyeing Solona almost fearfully.
She let him retreat that little bit, switching the blade to her left hand and drew it over her bare right palm. Once her blood welled up from the wound, she reached through the bars and took Jowan's hand in her own almost like a shake, holding their bleeding palms together easily in his weakened state, his struggles a pitiful resistance. The blood of the two mages mingled, and Solona could hear and feel his every thought with starling sharpness, the bewildered current that suddenly took him and the echo of her own thoughts in his mind telling her that he was experiencing the same sensation.
"Promise me you will never use blood magic for your own quest for power." She thought to him, concentration all of her will into making her thoughts clear, though flashes of their escape from the tower crossed her mind, the hurt and betrayal she'd felt in knowing that he'd blatantly lied to her just as clear as her words.
Sorrow, followed by a resolve nearly as strong as her own came from Jowan. "I swear." His mouth moved to form the words, but his voice did not sound. Flashes of pain in his palm, the horrified look on Lilly's face, then her own, and an overwhelming guilt that nearly made her weep. Fear, panic, desperation all brought to heel by Jowan's new-found inner strength.
"Promise me that you will never use your magic to harm or enslave the innocent, that you will never sell your talents to someone that would do the same."
Connor's face, Isolde looking over her shoulder, Eamon eating and laughing with his family, the powder he'd used to nearly kill the Arl, more sadness. "I promise."
"Promise me that you will use your magic to help those in need. To raise your spells only in self-defence."
"I promise." This he did with much fervor, having already made the decision to do so himself if ever given the opportunity.
"Promise that you will not make rash decisions out of hand or on an emotional whim."
"I promise."
"Promise me that you will hold yourself accountable or your own actions and take no man's words for your own. Promise me that you will leave Ferelden and never come back."
Jowan's thoughts disintegrated, becoming unfocused and disorganized as he scrambled to think of how he would leave Ferelden from behind bars, what it would mean to swear to that promise, and was both fearful and hopeful that she would free him. "Sola, I-"
"Jowan!" She scolded, her heart set hard with an emotion bordering very close to hatred. "Promise me! I have known you most of my life. You are more a brother to me than ever my real family was. I love you, but if you can not make me this promise, then I will have to watch you die and try to comfort myself with knowing that I gave you a chance and you were too afraid to take it. I do not want that. I want you to find a purpose. Someone or something that makes you want to do what's right, to use our gift for something better." Her heart was displayed readily to him in that state, her deep love she held for him flooding out enough to make tears well in his eyes, followed by the fierce loyalty and dedication she felt for another man, his face flashing in her mind briefly accompanied by love of a different kind.
He felt at a loss in comparison to how empty and purposeless his life was compared to the fierceness of her heart, the story between Solona and this man playing out for him in a torrent of memories that flashed by in a matter of seconds. He colored at the intensity of her feelings, highlighted as they were occasionally with a deep desire for the man that had never been fulfilled. That she didn't expect to have fulfilled, and yet she loved him all the same.
It made him realize how fragile his relationship with Lilly had been. He had loved her, but not like this. Not with every fiber of his being wanting to protect her even if she couldn't break her vows for him. They had wanted to change, to escape, to become something else, while Solona had contented herself with the way her man was, knowing that it was never to be. He became jealous of her then, wanting the same kind of purpose that drove her. Renewing their grip in their bloody handshake, Jowan stepped closer to the bars. "I promise."
"It is a pact made in blood." She replied with great solemnity. A surge of magic coursed between them, a small exchange of power between two blood mages and something settled on Jowan's soul. He knew from that moment on that the promises he'd made would haunt his actions for the rest of his life, for better or worse. The price for his freedom- for connected as they were he knew that Solona had ever intention of setting him free- was this pact. This oath to take the revelations that he'd had while spent in solitary confinement in the dungeon and apply them directly to his every action from now on.
She did something else then, his palm tingling and he felt vitality flow into him, feeling more alive than he had in weeks. When Solona was done, she looked paler and simply let go of his hand.
With steady fingers she traced the outside of the lock on his cell, leaving a thin trail of blood that had slicked her fingers. Once it was outlined fully, she activated the blood, heating it, changing it, and a horrid smell suffused the air. Before his eyes he watched as the metal rusted where she had smeared her blood, eating through the bars at an alarming rate until the lock was only held by thin threads of rusted metal that would doubtless fall out of place if any sort of shock jolted it.
"The rest is up to you." Solona said quietly, watching with morbid interest as she healed her hand, the process slow since she couldn't use regular magic without alerting the Templar outside. Once the slit was no longer leaking blood she fit her glove back over her hand and looked up at Jowan, the sadness of realizing this was the last they would see each other forever hitting her. "I love you Jowan. Look after yourself."
He reached out and touched her cheek with his not-bloody palm, the girl he had known so long and now knew so well. "Look after him Sola." He murmured, referring to the man he'd seen in her mind earlier. "He holds your heart. Let nothing come between you, as complicated as it might get."
She nodded, sniffling, and clasped her now gloved palm over his hand, soaking in the feeling of a familiar touch for a long silent moment. Finally she stepped back and let the contact between them drop, eyeing him with a long searching look before turning and walking out of the dungeon.
Jowan watched her go, healing his palm as well then retreating from the bars and sat down to wait. He would escape this cell and make good of his promises. For Solona, and for himself.