6. Smile & Wave
Leliana somehow manages to coerce my pitifully short hair into some semblance of a 'style' before the ceremony begins. Were it not for my still-raw scar, the curls she managed to tease from it-combined with my height-would make me look like a child. Still, it doesn't look half bad, not that I care. I'm distracted by the fact that my arm already aches. I may have to loosen the buckles if it keeps swelling like this. Maybe Wynne can do something to help, I don't know. I finally give in and loosen the straps a notch.
As we approach the doors to the main hall of the palace, my stomach suddenly twists in five different kinds of knots. This isn't just nerves. Nerves is what I felt standing beside Nelaros when I thought I would be marrying him instead of avenging his death. Nerves is what I felt at the Landsmeet. Nerves is what I felt trying to convince Zathrian to end the werewolves' curse. This is full blown, crushing panic. The kind capable of stealing your breath and your mind as well. I can't go in there! I can't face all those...those humans without him! Oh, Maker, I can't do this! I throw out my arm, feel the wall stop me from tumbling to the ground. Andraste's flaming sword, I cannot breathe! I can face a dragon ten or more times my size, but not this!
"Rahna? What's wrong?" Leliana kneels next to me, resting one hand on my back.
"I-I can't. I can't do this. Not without him. Can't," I whimper, shaking my head. I know I'm not acting the way most would expect one of Ferelden's greatest heroes to act, but the thought of facing a roomful of humans without Alistair to back me up terrifies me.
"Come, my dear. You can indeed do this." Zevran appears as if from nowhere and hauls me to my feet. He shakes my shoulders, settling my heart back into a slower and more normal rhythm. "We will help you, will we not?" I sense the look he shoots Leliana.
"Yes, of course." She takes my hand, and the two of them steady me for a moment before we enter. I want to throw up, pass out, run away, something. But I can't. I have to paste on a smile, wave to the crowd, and pretend I'm thrilled to be here. We join Wynne, Sten, and Oghren in the middle of the room. I don't want to let go of Zev or Leliana, but I have to. We stand together, those of us that remain, as Anora begins to address the crowd.
"My friends, we are gathered to celebrate those responsible for our victory," the Queen begins. "Alistair, the son of King Maric, and last of the Theirin bloodline, gave his life for us by slaying the mighty archdemon. But the one who led the battle against the darkspawn thankfully remains with us still."
Wait, that's it? That's all she's going to say about him? He saved her whole sodding precious kingdom, and that's all the thanks she gives him? I feel righteous rage bubble up inside me as the queen shamelessly attempts to brush Alistair under the rug. I suppose even dead he threatens her day in the sun. Suddenly I know exactly what I want as my boon. I could ask for better living conditions for the elves, but Shianni can probably handle that all by herself. I could ask for money, land, a title, but none of that interests me. I drag my attention back to the moment and Anora's speech.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I present the Hero of Ferelden, the first Grey Warden to defeat the Blight since Garahel, four centuries ago." My mind is racing as I make my way up the stairs. I know Alistair is really the one who defeated the Blight, I know I could never have done as much as I did without him. But Anora doesn't know that. I swallow all the bitter things I want to scream, about how she shouldn't even be on the throne, how we should be praising Alistair, not me, as I reach the top and stand by the queen while she addresses me in front of everyone. "Grey Warden, it is hard to imagine how you could have aided Ferelden more. I think it is only appropriate that I return the favor." She smiles at me, and I'm suddenly aware that the sick feeling building in my gut is showing on my face. I paste on a smile, mirroring hers. "Is there any boon you might request of Ferelden's queen?"
"The sacrifices of the Wardens should not be forgotten again." It isn't what I really want to say, but it gets the point across, and sounds a lot more...I don't know, fitting to the circumstances than 'build Alistair a monument' would. I'll just force her to honor him, if I have to.
"An excellent point." She masks her emotions well, but I still saw the flicker of irritation brush across her face. "We can begin with a monument here in Denerim dedicated to Alistair and all the other Grey Wardens who fell to save us."
Wow. I didn't even have to badger that out of her. Maybe I'm letting my grief paint her in a harsher light-but then I remember how she turned on me at the Landsmeet, even though I told her I would support her. No, she's jut trying to appear generous and grateful to the man who saved her skin.
"We'll also collect scholars to learn more about the darkspawn. We'll face them again, here and with the dwarves." Anora turns to face the crowd. "Let it also be known that the arling of Amaranthine, once the land of Arl Howe, is now granted to the Grey Wardens. There they can rebuild, honoring the example of those who have gone before them."
As if anyone could live up to Alistair's example.
"What are your plans? Will you remain with the Grey Wardens?" She's turned back to me and looks expectant.
Well, I'm the only Grey Warden in Ferelden. If I leave, there wouldn't be any Ferelden Wardens. Only Orlesians, and we can't have that, can we? And I have nothing better to do with myself now. Besides, the darkspawn are hardly going to form a neat and orderly line and march back to the Deep Roads now that the archdemon's dead. "The darkspawn are still a threat. The Grey Wardens need me."
She smiles, and it actually seems genuine. "I'm certain they will be relieved to know your intentions. There is a group of eager Ferelden citizens waiting outside to get a look at their hero. I suggest you make at least a brief appearance before they storm the gate," she chuckles. "Just tell the guard at the door when you're ready."
Great. More humans. Can I pass on that? I know I can't. I have to get over this...anxiety around humans. Alistair is the only one who never made me nervous. Cailan's naiveté threw me off, and even Duncan had my guard up for half of the journey to Ostagar.
But enough of these thought. It's time to mingle with my adoring public. Sodding wonderful. However, I do think I saw my father in the crowd in the Landsmeet chamber. I would like to talk to him. And Zev and Leli. But I find my father first. I can't talk to him long; there are so many people who want a moment with the Hero of Ferelden.
I could scream at the top of my lungs that Alistair is the real hero, not me, but no one would listen. I don't know if they would even care. But Alistair is the one who kept me going when I wanted to give up, Alistair is the one who made sure I didn't make a decision I would regret later, Alistair is the one who killed the archdemon. But I'm the one who led our band, and I'm the one still alive, so I'm the one who gets all the credit.
After speaking to my father as long as I can spare, I wander in search of my companions. I need to speak to someone from our group. Now. Leliana is busy discussing what sounds like details for an expedition to the Urn of Sacred Ashes, making sure pilgrims don't molest it too much, something like that. It sounds important, so I bypass her and make a beeline for Zevran, who is standing nearby.
He shifts restlessly as I greet him. "I will be relieved when all this pomp and ceremony is done," he admits. "Such events are perfect opportunities for assassins, after all. I can't help but expect the Crows to appear at any moment. Which would be a welcome break, mind you."
"Do you think the Crows will still come after you?" I can't believe they won't think he's dead. Even if the outcome of his original attempt didn't convince them, why wouldn't they assume he joined Taliesen and died with him in the back alley?
He shrugs. "Eventually. With Taliesen dead it may take them time to figure out what has happened...but they are like the tides. Predictable. You know, it does occur to me that staying in one place is only going to invite the Crows to find me that much quicker. While fun, that might eventually get...complicated. You said earlier that you were planning on returning to the Grey Warden fold soon. Is that true?" He sounds...hopeful.
"Why, are you thinking of joining?" I'm half serious, half joking. Somehow I can't see him as a Grey Warden.
Apparently neither can he. "A Grey Warden? Me? Oh, no, no, no," he laughs. "There are some bodily fluids even I won't touch. The Grey Wardens seem to be a fun bunch to hang around however. Maybe they won't mind a resident assassin? I'm an excellent mascot."
"I'd be happy for the company." How can I turn him down, after all he's done to help me? Besides, it would get awful lonely to travel by myself. I wish Alistair was still here to come with me... Zevran's been a true friend, and I can see no reason I shouldn't keep trusting him. With the number of times he's passed up an opportunity to kill me, he's either trying to really earn my trust before stabbing me in the back or honestly my friend. I choose to believe the latter.
"And I promise not to get you into too much trouble," he teases. "Well...no more than you get me into, anyhow. Well then, since we're going to be leaving together, we can speak after you have been sufficiently paraded in front of the populace. Don't worry. I'll keep an eye on you and make sure no one gets a clear shot. Not without paying me a great deal of coin, anyhow." He winks at me, grinning. Traveling with him will be...interesting. I wonder how long he'll wait before trying to seduce me...again. He knows the reason I told him no before was being in love with Alistair. Unless I plan on loving a ghost my whole life-which doesn't sound half bad right now-he'll have a chance down the road. I brush aside those thoughts and cross the room to talk to Wynne.
" 'The Hero of Ferelden'. My, my. How does it feel?" she chuckles.
"It's a little strange," I admit. Because I don't deserve it. Because normally humans would hardly even acknowledge my existence.
Wynne smiles warmly. "Of that I have no doubt. It's a title you'll be wearing for a long time to come. Just as Loghain wore his. But it's not so bad, is it? A Blight defeated with the other nations barely becoming aware. Who could ask for better?"
"I didn't do it on my own." Everyone helped, though some more than others.
"I don't think many heroes ever do. I'm glad not to be on the receiving end of all this attention, myself. Not that I've gone without notice. Irving asked me to take over as First Enchanter, but I don't wish to go back. Not after all this. Instead, I've decided to accept a position here at court. There has not been a mage advising the throne for a very long time."
Isn't she living on borrowed time? How much longer does she think she has? "What about...your problem?"
"It's true, I may not have very much time..." she concedes, "but perhaps there is a great deal of good I can do even so. I will try. I understand you will be leaving. I wish you good fortune on your journeys, wherever they may take you. If we do not see each other again... live well, Warden. And thank you."
"You're welcome." I speak to the others, wish Oghren luck in drinking a whole barrel of pickle juice to prove "that pot-belled son of a whore Teagan" wrong, ruffle my mabari's ears, speak to Sten, and then head for the doors. Let's get this over with. Time to smile and wave again...