He should've told me, she thought, gazing up at the arched canvas of her tent. All the while we were in Orzammar, all that time he knew everything about me, and I— A lump caught in her throat, and the Warden rolled onto her side in the narrow bed. The faithful Mabari took up more of the bed than she did, and it was a welcome distraction. She dug her fingers gently into his fur, softly stretching the loose skin at the back of the dog's neck. The hound grunted sweetly, too tired to awaken, but grateful for the affection no less.
It had been three days now, since Alistair had mentioned his royal lineage. The former Lady Aeducan had feigned forgiveness well at the time – they had significantly more important matters to attend to than those of her heart. She knew when he dragged her aside that she wouldn't like what he was going to tell her, but her characteristic ability to be stoic in the face of controversy stilled her racing heart. He was still hesitant to discuss the matter, even after all the time they'd spent together, but he knew he hadn't a choice at that point. "Which made Cailan my… half-brother, I suppose." Alistair had stumbled through the entire conversation, hemming and hawing whenever opportunity presented itself. Aina remembered feeling her heart drop from her chest and her lungs empty of air. Months they'd spent together, always together since the traumatic events at Ostagar. Long months, rigorous months, miserable months – months when Aina had prioritized troops for the army above her own personal struggles, when she faced her exile from her home and betrayal by her family, when she'd felt stronger with Alistair at her back, when she'd trusted him like she'd never trusted anyone.
They had been making their way toward Redcliffe at the time, to make their final plea for aid. The dwarves, elves, and mages had all united under the Grey Wardens' banner, and it was time now to seek aid from their last potential ally. The Warden had never felt more optimistic – except the day of the royal Proving in her honor. Loghain would fall, and the Blight would soon follow. But then…
"I didn't want you to know, for as long as possible." He'd been afraid of being treated differently, he reasoned; he wanted her to love him for who he was. He didn't want her "coddling" him, or resenting him, for a privilege, of sorts, that wasn't even his. This explanation did little to ease her heartache, because it wasn't anger or protectiveness that had spiked through her. It was a sense of regret. She'd placed so much trust in this man. Together they'd faced more than both their lifetime's worth of tribulations, and yet here he was, telling her he couldn't trust her. Telling her that in spite of their many months of becoming closer, of bonding, of sharing fears and truths and love, that he thought she might reject him over such a trivial matter.
What have I done, she wondered again, her hand still toying with the dog's silky coat, that made him question me so? What could I possibly have done which instilled in him fear of my judgment? She felt as if her heart was struggling for each beat, like it might just give up from the despair of it all. Too long now had she been lying awake, trying in vain not to think, trying to let sleep slide in, welcome and invigorating. But the thoughts still clawed at her skull, prying her eyes open, giving not a moment's respite. Her tired legs ached, but, like the waters of the Waking Sea, could not be stilled.
Aina had pressed the issue, unable to restrain herself. "You still should have told me." Her own words echoed through her mind. How she wished that she'd have dropped it, told him that she understood – lied to him like he'd lied to her. But her inherent stoicism had failed her then, and now that one moment of weakness was weighing heavily on her shoulders. They'd fought and saved Redcliffe, a pursuit so demanding that she'd had little time to realize the events wearing on her.
The hound stirred beside her, sensing her unrest. He stretched and repositioned himself, resting his head on his front legs and addressing the Warden with a drowsy gaze.
"It's okay, boy, go back to sleep," She smiled, patting him tenderly on the head.
Wagging his tail twice, the dog licked his jowls and obliged, but Aina herself couldn't be so easily contented.