She was still in blackness, but was aware of a yawning silence…Then her ragged breathing, her heart pounding against her ribcage, blood rushing through her ears. She was lying on her back. She was…alive?
A loud snort startled her. What was – oh. Of course. Her horse. She was in her tent. She sighed as reality finally filtered in. She summoned a spell wisp to give her a little light. She'd dreamed about Aedan again. For the last 3 weeks, almost every night without fail, she'd dreamed about him.
She looked at the tattoo on her arm. She'd had it done in one of the backrooms of The Pearl in Denerim.
The tattoo artist didn't look too clean, and neither did his tools, but what did she care? Die fighting the Archdemon; die from an infected tattoo. Or die 30 years from now in the Deep Roads. What difference did a few years make? Whether she died in 30 years' time or right now mattered little to her.
The tattoo artist had actually done a fine job. It still itched a little, and there were a few scabs, but no infection. She scratched it idly, then kissed her fingers and touched it. It was the Cousland Family coat of arms. Aedan's family.
She stretched and ventured outside the tent. Her horse, Spirit, nudged her as she approached. "I hope I didn't startle you, Spirit. I had a bad dream, that's all." Spirit whinnied softly as she caressed his long head.
She longed for somebody – anybody – to put their arms around her and tell her they'd take care of everything. She felt the weight of her responsibilities pushing her down into the ground.
Warden Commander. She felt a sinking sensation in her stomach.
She sighed again and looked up the road. Still no sign of the escort. She'd been expecting a contingent from Vigil's Keep since yesterday. They were to meet her on the Howe Road. Howe. She thought bitterly of Aedan's family.
She was starting to get concerned, now. She couldn't have been more than 2 or 3 hours from the Keep, but had decided to pitch her tent. She felt that arriving in the middle of the night would be inconsiderate. Now she wished she had pressed on. But Spirit needed a break.
Spirit was well rested now though, and she was concerned enough to risk waking a few people up at the Keep. They wouldn't mind. She was the Warden Commander after all.
Ugh. There it was again. That sinking feeling.
The title of Warden Commander was an "honour" bestowed upon her by the king.
After Aedan's funeral there had been a ball held in his honour at the Royal Palace in Denerim. Corinth sought out her old travelling companions. Leli, Oghren and Zev were there. Sten had returned to the Antaam. Wynne and Shale were on their way to Tevinter. Corinth was angry with them for not staying. Morrigan had left the Palace in disgust the night before they set out for Fort Drakon, after both Alistair and Aedan had refused to take part in her ritual.
The four of them stood huddled in a corner, somewhat offended by the revelry around them. Zev and Oghren had tried to lighten the mood a little, but now and then one of them would stare into space, at the empty spot where Aedan should have been.
Bann Teagan, their friend from Redcliffe, had noticed their discomfort and came over. Bowing low, he asked if any of them would do him the singular honour of getting rat-arsed with him. They all laughed at that, and solemnly accepted.
Corinth noticed a hunched, black-haired man nursing a very large brandy sitting in the far corner, staring at the wall. He was wearing livery bearing the Cousland device. Some people were watching him, but seemed to avoid him. She asked Teagan who he was. Teagan sighed heavily and looked at the floor. "That's Fergus Cousland. Aedan's brother. The sole survivor of the Cousland family."
Corinth looked closer. "Fergus…Aedan talked about him all the time. He looked up to him. Aedan thought he was probably killed in the Korcari Wilds…" She felt bereft for this poor man.
"It would have been a kindness if he had died in the Wilds" whispered Teagan. "He's a broken man. How does one go on after enduring so much?"
"I should go and speak to him…but I don't know what to say."
Teagan shook his head firmly. "No. Leave him be. I'm keeping an eye on him, don't worry. I'll make sure he's alright."
King Alistair Therein approached them, his body language awkward and apologetic. Leliana curtseyed, Zev bowed dramatically. Oghren slapped the king on the back and told him "ya did good, kid." Corinth seemed to suddenly find her fingernails fascinating.
Alistair returned their gestures with a deep bow. "Look, I'm sorry to do this to you all, but I'm going to say a few words about Aedan, and I think it only fair to mention his friends and their roles in defeating the blight. Would you come with me?"
"Of course, Your Majesty!" Trilled Leliana.
"Oh no. I'm not having that. None of this Your Majesty nonsense. My friends call me Alistair."
Leli clapped her hands and winked at him. "Of course, Alistair!" She'd had a bit too much to drink. Why not, Corinth thought.
Alistair noticed Corinth trailing behind. "Catch up, Cori."
She bristled at his use of her nickname. "Corinth, if you please, Your Majesty."
"Erm…yes…of course." Alistair realised his gaffe.
As far as she was concerned, he'd forfeited the right to call her Cori when he unceremoniously dumped her after the Landsmeet. And in front of all their companions as well! Aedan had been disgusted.
"The very least he could have done was speak to you in private" he'd spat. "King or no, the man has no class and deserves to be horsewhipped. Damn him!"
Corinth though it wise not to mention that Alistair had later offered to keep her on at the Palace as his 'companion'. No doubt upon learning that, Aedan would have slapped the King's face with his gauntlet and demanded satisfaction. Which wouldn't have ended well. For either of them.
Alistair led them to the front of the hall and called for silence. He delivered a long and heartfelt speech. Anyone that knew him realised it had been written by Arl Eamon, but the assembled nobility and gentry were none the wiser and lapped it up.
Alistair then called each of them individually, espoused their virtues, then offered them a boon.
When Corinth's turn came, she replied – without looking him in the eye – that she only wished to continue serving the Grey Wardens. In other words I won't be sticking around here.
"Then it is indeed fortuitous that an additional honour should coincide with your wish."
Huh? Corinth marvelled at the fact that this shy, bumbling, naïve Chantry boy could suddenly speak in front of a crowd, without stuttering, in such a commanding voice. And use big words like 'fortuitous'.
"I hereby name you Warden Commander of Ferelden…"
Oh, no.
"…and Arlessa of the Arling of Amaranthine…"
Arlessa? Mages couldn't hold titles, could they? Grey Wardens certainly couldn't. Had Alistair taken leave of his senses?
The assembled crowd applauded. Corinth felt her cheeks grow hot. She looked over at her friends. Zev looked her up and down and winked at her. Probably playing out some lurid fantasy in his mind involving him - a mere servant - and her, the austere lady of the manor. Corinth shook her head at him in mock remonstration. Leli clapped furiously with tears in her eyes. Oghren raised his tankard and burped. Bann Teagan bowed to her and applauded. She bowed back.
"You honour me, Your majesty." She didn't even try to hide the mocking tone in her voice.
Alistair was at a loss. He was sweating. He knew how badly he'd hurt her and was trying to make it up to her. He thought she'd be pleased. Maker, he was such an idiot. What he wanted to do more than anything was scoop her up, twirl her around and cry "to hell with duty! Let's get married! I'm the king and I can do what I bloody well like!"
"Don't I get a job description or something?"
Alistair was snapped back to reality. "Uh?"
"You know, a job description. What does this position entail?" She spoke slowly, like he was stupid.
Alistair mumbled something about the Darkspawn threat in Amaranthine.
"Amaranthine? You really do want rid of me, don't you?" What have I done todeserve this?
"No! NO! Of COURSE not! I…I…" He sighed. His face was bright pink. Stuttering Alistair was back. He lowered his voice as the applause died down. "We'll discuss this later."
"No we won't." Her voice was cold and hard. "I'll figure it out for myself. I have nothing else to say to you. Goodbye, Your Majesty." She curtsied and stepped down from the dais.
Her friends gathered round her. She could see their mouths moving but their words didn't register. She could feel panic rising inside her. She broke into a sweat. Her head pounded. The same feeling she had when she realised that Aedan meant to sacrifice himself. She had to get out!
"Will you excuse me? I think I shall step out for a moment."
Alistair watched her. He battled with the urge to run after her. He felt the sting of tears at the back of his eyes. Arl Eamon, noticing this, quickly steered him away to deal with some 'king stuff'.
Corinth went up to her room and locked the door behind her. She was shaking. She slumped onto her bed. She realised she hadn't thought of Aedan for a while and felt guilty. A wave of fatigue hit her. She shouldn't fall asleep. It would be rude not to go back downstairs. She closed her eyes and thought of Aedan.
Sod it, she thought.
