Author's Note: Yay, another chapter done! I think I should be able to manage weekly updates for the most part from now on. I've just realized how ridiculously long this is going to be, but I can't seem to stop now! :) As always, thanks to all those who have favorited and followed so far, I'm glad you're enjoying my labor of love! This one is from Alistair's POV again, and I think the next one will be as well. Following that, we will probably be back to Ayla's POV.
Thanks to Kenjie11 for her kind review! I would really love some more reviews, even a few words about what you like, don't like, things you want to see, whatever. Hope you continue to enjoy the story!
Chapter 10: Battling the Undead
It had only taken them a couple of hours to attend to all the things that Murdock and Ser Perth had asked of them. Aedan had managed to convince the town's drunken blacksmith to repair the militia's armor in exchange for agreeing to find the man's daughter in the castle once the battle was over. He'd also talked a dwarf named Dwyn, an experienced fighter, into agreeing to help the militia along with his men, by promising that he'd put in a good word with the Arl and the mayor. Alistair couldn't help but marvel at the way Aedan seemed able to talk anybody into anything. If only he could do the same!
Following that, they'd searched the village for anything useful, and had found several barrels of oil in the abandoned general store that Morrigan had suggested setting on fire, believing that it might slow down these creatures. They'd also looted all the healing supplies, weaponry, and money they could find. Alistair would have felt bad about that, but Aedan pointed out it was necessary if they were going to be able to defend the village, both from these undead creatures and the darkspawn, and Alistair had to admit he was right; they'd be no use without supplies.
They'd next headed up the hill towards the windmill, stopping in the local tavern halfway up the hill on their way. It was still in operation, at least until the sun went down. They'd eaten their dinner, and Ayla had pointed out an elf acting suspiciously in the corner to Aedan. After Aedan had begun questioning him, the elf, whose name was Berrick, had quickly broken down and admitted that he'd been sent to watch the village, weeks before the attacks began. This only made Alistair more suspicious that Loghain had been involved in the Arl's illness somehow. The elf said he was merely supposed to report any changes, and had been ordered to do so by Arl Howe.
The mere mention of Howe's name had made Aedan furious in a way he hadn't been since this whole thing began, and he'd scared Berrick into agreeing to fight for the village tonight. He'd threatened to kill Berrick if he hadn't agreed, and Alistair hadn't thought for a second that he was bluffing. Obviously the elf hadn't thought so either, for he'd quickly agreed and headed for the training area to await the battle. While he'd been doing that, Ayla had sweet-talked the bartender, Lloyd, into giving the militia free drinks, as the men claimed they'd be able to fight better drunk.
Finally, they'd headed up to the windmill to talk to Ser Perth last of all. They'd discussed battle plans, and told him about the barrels they'd found. Ser Perth had agreed that fire might be useful in the coming fight, and had sent his men to fetch the barrels and set them up at the barricades at the bottom of the hill leading to the castle, which was directly across from the windmill. Ser Perth had also requested that they ask Mother Hannah for a blessing for his knights. He stated that he and his men were otherwise as prepared for the coming battle as they could be.
They'd headed back down the hill to the Chantry, and spoke to Mother Hannah. It turned out that Ser Perth wanted something that would mean the Maker was protecting him and his knights in a real sense, but she didn't think she could do that. However, Aedan had persuaded her to play along, and she'd provided some amulets that they could give to the knights. Leliana hadn't been happy with what she saw as deceit, but Alistair and Ayla had backed Aedan up. Both knew how important morale could be in winning a battle, and how easy it would be for one simple thing to tip the scales. They'd also reported on their progress so far to Teagan, letting him know that they were very nearly ready.
After they'd returned to Ser Perth and given him the amulets, Aedan had gone over the plans for the night. He'd decided they would start out with Ser Perth's men at the base of the hill where the oil was. The militia would stay at the barricades and bonfire in front of the Chantry, as a last line of defense for the civilians inside, along with Dwyn and Berrick. From what they'd heard so far, it sounded like the hill was where the majority of the creatures would appear. Morrigan would light the barrels as soon as the creatures were close enough, and then she and Leliana would provide long range support while the others would pick off any undead that came through the barricades. Aedan had dismissed them all after that, saying they could do as they liked until nightfall, when they would meet back at the windmill.
The party had all split up after that, and now Alistair was searching for Ayla. She'd barely spoken to him unless she had to during the last couple of hours, and then had gone off by herself as soon as Aedan dismissed them. He was worried that she'd been more upset by his revelation than she'd seemed to be at the time. If only he wasn't such a coward! He should have just told her when the opportunity presented itself!
He questioned the villagers if they could recall seeing her, and finally found someone who'd seen her head towards the lake. He made his way through the tangle of wooden houses towards Lake Calenhad, which was on the edge of Redcliffe village. He found Ayla sitting on the end of one of the docks, feet dangling over the edge, looking out across the water.
He took a deep breath to fortify himself. He didn't know how exactly he was going to fix it if she was upset or angry with him, but he knew he couldn't leave it this way. He would be far too distracted during the upcoming battle. He made his way down the dock and sat down next to her. "Here you are, I've been looking all over for you."
She didn't seem at all surprised that he was there; Alistair knew she must have heard him coming. She didn't bother to look over at him, however. "Well, I've been here. Was there something that you wanted, Alistair?"
Ouch. Yes, she's definitely not happy with me. Her cool tone and refusal to look him in the eye left no doubt of that. "I –" he hesitated. "Are you – upset with me? Over – what we talked about earlier?" He still couldn't bring himself to say anything about his birthright straight out.
She sighed, drawing a knee up to rest her hands and chin on. "Yes. But I'm trying not to be, because I realize it's hypocritical of me to be upset with you for not trusting me with details about yourself when I haven't told you everything, either. Telling myself that and actually doing it are two different things, though. So I didn't know what to say to you. Avoiding you – seemed easier."
Alistair felt worse than ever when he realized she'd been trying not to be upset with him, and that she'd thought he hadn't told her because he didn't trust her. "No, please don't think that! It's not that I didn't trust you." Because he actually did, he realized. He knew it was strange, because she was right; she hadn't come anywhere close to telling him everything about herself. But somehow, he didn't have any doubt in his mind about it. That's why he knew he had to fix this.
"It's . . . please let me try to explain. The thing is, I'm used to not telling anyone who didn't already know. It was always a secret. Even Duncan was the only Grey Warden who knew. And then after the battle when I should have told you . . . I don't know. It seemed like it was too late by then. How do you just tell someone that?"
She turned to look at him now, and he could see a spark of anger blazing in her eyes. "You could have told me the night I asked you, straight out, if you knew who your father was! Instead, you told me it wasn't important! That was an outright lie, Alistair. I may not have told you everything about myself, but I would never have lied if you asked me a direct question."
"I – I know. I'm sorry." He felt very small just now. How did he always manage to screw things up so much? "It wasn't totally a lie, though. It's not something that's important to me. I didn't want to bring it up just then, anyway. I was really enjoying talking to you, and I – didn't want to spoil it. So I guess part of me liked you not knowing." He looked at her pleadingly, praying that she would understand he hadn't maliciously lied to her.
Her face softened a little, though she looked confused. "Are you saying you enjoyed not telling me? What makes you think that it would have spoiled our conversation that night?"
He stared out over the lake as he struggled to try to put his feelings about his birthright into words. "It's just - - that anyone who's ever found out has treated me different after. I was the bastard prince instead of just being Alistair. I know that must sound stupid to you, but I hate that it's shaped my entire life. I never wanted it, and I certainly don't want to be king. The very idea of it terrifies me."
"I think I understand," she said slowly. "When you have something about you that changes the way people look at you or think of you, it can be hard to deal with. If you have the opportunity to hide it, and just be like everybody else – I can see that being appealing."
He shoved a hand through his hair wearily, though he was growing more hopeful that she might forgive him. "For all the good that trying to hide it does me. My blood seems certain to haunt me no matter what I do. I guess I should be thankful that Arl Eamon is far more likely to inherit the throne. If he's all right, I hope he's all right. For what it's worth, I am truly sorry for not telling you sooner. I . . . I guess I was just hoping that you would like me for who I am, as just – Alistair. It was a dumb thing to do."
She scooted over closer to him, and rested a hand on his gauntleted one, giving him a sympathetic smile. "I understand why you wanted to hide it now. It doesn't matter to me who or what you are besides Alistair, because I do like you for you, and I've enjoyed talking to you also. I forgive you, as long as you promise to do me a favour."
Alistair nodded, beaming down at her in relief. She understood, and she didn't hate him. He could not have wished for anything more. "Of course, anything you want!"
She glanced away, and he saw a bit of a shadow pass over her features. "Just – remember that I forgave you for hiding this, and that I want to be recognized as Ayla only, just as much as you want to be just Alistair."
He nodded, even as his mind was running through why she would want such a promise. What did she think would change how people felt about her? She couldn't possibly be worried by the fact that she'd revealed her nobility to them, could she? Because that certainly didn't matter to him. She must still be hiding something else. "Of course. But since we're being honest about direct questions, is it okay if I ask you one?"
"I –" she pulled her hand away, wrapping her arms around both her knees now. "I will try to answer it, if I can."
What was that supposed to mean? Well, there was only one way to find out, he supposed. "What I'm curious about is how you don't know anything about Ferelden, or darkspawn, or anything that you should know. There has to be more to it than just your country being far away. I'm not that stupid; I know you have to be hiding the real reason for that from me." He looked at her, waiting for her answer, though he wasn't sure what exactly he expected it to be.
She sighed, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear. "I thought this might come up sooner or later. I'm not sure that . . ." she trailed off, biting her lip.
"What, that you trust me enough to tell me?" he asked, disappointed. "That would be hypocritical, you know."
She shook her head. "No, it's not that. I'm just not sure that you'd believe me, is all."
"That I wouldn't –" He was confused, he had to admit. He tilted his head, trying to puzzle it out. "Why wouldn't I believe you, if it's the truth?"
She shrugged. "Don't say I didn't warn you." Without waiting for an answer, she continued. "The reason why I don't know anything about Ferelden is because I'm not from this world. My country, Fallor, exists in the world of Sionac."
Alistair was stunned. Maker's breath, had he actually heard her correctly? She was from another world? As in, not from Thedas at all? Was that even possible? "There's – other worlds?" he said faintly, trying to wrap his head around it.
She nodded, studying him as if trying to discern his response to her news. "There are many worlds in our universe, each with different lands and people, different degrees of magic, different levels of contact with the World Beyond. Some, like yours, I'm guessing, are unaware of the existence of any others. In my world, however, it is common knowledge that there are many worlds besides our own. Other than that basic truth, though, we don't know much about them. That's why, when I came here, I didn't know anything about this place, other than that I was no longer in Sionac."
He was studying her in turn, trying to determine if she was really telling him the truth. He couldn't see any sign of deceit on her face, though. And really, who would even think to come up with such a lie? Not to mention, it did make a certain kind of sense, if he thought about how she had no basic knowledge of Ferelden, and no one had ever heard of the country she was from, or any of its customs. "If that's true – how did you even get here? Is it common for people from your world to travel to others?" He still couldn't believe he'd actually said "your world."
She shook her head, still warily studying him for his reaction. "Not common, no, but it has happened a few times in the past. We've also had people from other worlds come to ours, according to legend, anyway. Our world is supposed to be one of the easier ones to get to and from. The place I was at that day, Starwood Point, is known to have a crack between worlds, or a portal. It requires great magic to operate, though. It wouldn't have opened by accident."
"Great magic . . ." His mind instantly went to Flemeth. He remembered everything she'd said about Ayla not belonging and having a destiny to fulfill. That only made everything she was saying more likely. "Could Flemeth have had something to do with you coming here?"
"Flemeth?" She frowned as she considered it. "I'm not sure, to be honest. Is her magic truly that strong?"
"I don't know exactly how strong her magic is," Alistair admitted. "It's certainly stronger than anything I've ever felt before, but I don't know what her limits might be. She's said to be immortal, though."
"Immortal, huh?" Ayla said thoughtfully. "If we get the chance, I'd like to talk to her again. Anyway, does that mean you believe me?" She gave him a wry look, as if she knew it was too much to ask.
Alistair thought about it carefully. As farfetched as it sounded, and as flabbergasted as it made him, he couldn't think of any reason she would come up with such an elaborate lie. What would be the point? He had no real reason to doubt her sanity, either. She'd always been perfectly rational. "I – guess I do. It makes an odd sort of sense, as impossible as it sounds. But how do you plan to get back, if it's not just a matter of ordinary travel?"
She gave him a cheeky grin. "I told you my favour might be harder." He snorted in agreement as she continued, "Honestly, I don't know. If I was sent – or brought – here for a reason, then I might just automatically go home once it's done. Failing that, I had thought to search for a portal in your world, if there is such a thing. But if I don't have to go back, I'm not sure that I will."
"What? But why wouldn't you want to go home?" He was confused again, though he was also pleased at the thought that she might want to stay here – with him. Leave it to me to think of something so inappropriate at a time like this, Alistair thought wryly.
"There's nothing really for me there." She had a wistful expression on her face now as she toyed with the ends of her leather skirt. "Other than my brother, no one would really miss me there. And Fallor's at peace. I'm a warrior without a war. That might sound like a good thing, but I've trained all my life to fight, and there's nothing to fight. We patrol endlessly, only to fight a few bandits or other criminals. I feel like my life has no purpose there. Here, though? There are so many people that need help with so many things. I feel like I could actually make a difference here. I guess that sounds strange."
"Not so strange." Alistair thought of how he'd felt about being a Templar. He hadn't thought that he would be of any use, or actually able to help anybody as a Templar. He'd been miserable about it until Duncan came along and offered him a way out. He already felt like six months in the Grey Wardens had been far more useful than a lifetime with the Templars would have been. "I felt the same about being a Templar. Like I would have been no use. Anyway, if you are able to stay, I certainly wouldn't object."
"Oh, you wouldn't, huh?" She gave him a sly smile.
He blushed, as usual, and couldn't meet her gaze. "I just mean - - I've been glad to have you along so far, and it'd be a lot harder without you here."
"Well, I'm glad to have been of service." Her eyes were twinkling with amusement when he looked back. "And I've enjoyed travelling with you so far, I wouldn't mind continuing." She stood up and stretched. "We should get going, though. They're looking for us."
Alistair stood up, as well, noting that it was starting to get darker. They must have been talking for longer than he'd thought. "They are? How do you know?"
She jerked her thumb in the direction Alistair had come. "Leliana's calling for us."
Brow furrowing, Alistair started back down the dock, straining to hear anything other than the lake. Halfway down the dock, he finally caught the faint sound of Leliana calling their names. How had she managed to hear that? Did all the people from her world have better hearing? He glanced over at Ayla, who had followed him along the dock. She merely shrugged in response to his questioning look. "Well, I suppose we should get going, anyway," he admitted.
The two of them headed back through the houses, and met Leliana halfway back to the Chantry. "Where have the two of you been? It's almost dark, and Aedan wants us all to be ready at the windmill!"
"Sorry," Alistair replied, giving her his best sheepish grin. She didn't need to know what they'd been discussing, not yet anyway. "We didn't realize it was so close to nightfall."
"Well, let us hurry now, then, yes?" Leliana turned and began running ahead of them. They followed her towards the windmill. Ayla flashed a grateful smile at Alistair when he looked over at her. He gave her a conspiratorial wink back.
In no time, the three of them had reached the top of the hill in the gathering dusk. The others were all there already, including Ser Perth and his knights. Aedan directed everybody to take up positions, and then they waited, watching the castle at the top of the hill for their first glimpse of the undead creatures.
It wasn't long at all after the sun had finally slipped below the horizon that a mist started rolling down from the hill from the castle, creeping along the ground. It was a sickly grey color, and Alistair felt the unmistakable tinge of magic coming with it. He couldn't locate the source, and it was unlike any magic he'd ever felt before, but he was sure it was magic all the same.
"Here they come!" Aedan called out.
Sure enough, a cloud of dust was now following the mist down the hill. They began to see the signs of shambling figures in among the dust. Though the things were moving fairly fast, their gait was horribly uneven and unnatural. "Morrigan, get ready," Aedan hissed out.
Morrigan nodded curtly, and Alistair felt the build-up of her magic until there was a ball of fire hovering around the end of her staff. She waited, her eyes on Aedan as he held his hand up, watching the figures coming down the hill. When they were so close to the barrels that Alistair could start to make out the bits of armor and weapons that they wore, Aedan brought his hand down. "Now!"
Morrigan shoved the ball of fire forward with her staff, essentially throwing it. It landed square on the barrels, busting them apart and sending a cloud of fire and smoke up in the air. In no time, a fire was blazing merrily across the bottom of the hill. Everybody waited, weapons drawn, to see what the undead would make of this barrier.
Unfortunately, it wasn't long before the first figure came reeling out of the fire. While it was on fire, that didn't seem to deter the thing from charging towards the ranks of warriors that waited for it. Still more creatures burst out of the flames, coming towards them. "Attack!" Aedan yelled, coming forward himself with a massive swing of his sword.
Alistair charged forward as well. An arrow pierced the creature in front of him. As always, Leliana's aim was dead on; it struck right where the heart was – or should be. But the thing didn't even halt. It was horrible to look upon; it was mostly a walking skeleton, wearing armor and brandishing a sword, but there were still bits and pieces of skin clinging to its face and arms. Its eye sockets gleamed with an unholy red light, and the stench of the dead was coming off it in waves.
It swung its sword at Alistair, and he caught it on his own sword easily, lashing out with his shield. The thing stumbled back several paces, but kept coming. He ran his sword through its middle; still it didn't stop. In desperation, Alistair yanked his sword out and lopped the thing's head off. Finally, the red light went out of the eyes and the skeleton collapsed in a heap of bones and armor. "Go for the head!" Alistair shouted to the others. "It looks like it's the only way to kill it!"
"Got it!" Aedan shouted back as another swing of his greatsword separated the heads off of two of the creatures.
"If you don't have time to go for the head, you can take out the legs! It stops them from walking!" Ayla called out, using her swords to sweep out the legs from an undead to Alistair's left. She kicked another one out of her way before beheading the one she'd dropped to the ground.
The battle continued on; more and more undead poured through the flames, which only seemed to slow them down a little bit. Leliana took to aiming for the creatures' heads, and Morrigan took to freezing them, which also seemed to halt them long enough for the others to strike at their heads. Ser Perth and his knights followed the lead of their party, and the battle soon settled into a oddly comfortable rhythm for those fighting at the top of the hill.
Alistair was surprised at how easy this was, once they'd figured out the creatures' weakness. The things were even less intelligent than darkspawn, and they certainly weren't anywhere near as fast or skilled. He found it fairly simple to deflect their blows, keep them off balance, and take out their legs or behead them as needed. The others didn't seem to be having any problems either. The only thing that seemed to pose a challenge was the sheer number of them, and with the help of Ser Perth and his knights, they seemed to be holding against the numbers well enough.
He didn't know exactly how long it had been when he took down the undead in front of him and didn't see another one behind it. He tended to lose track of time in a battle. He glanced around, and saw a few other undead falling to his friends' blades, but no more coming through the fire. "Are they all gone?" he asked Ayla, as she came over to him after dispatching the one she'd been fighting.
"It looks that way –" she began, but was interrupted as one of the militiamen came charging up from the village, shouting, "The monsters are attacking from the lake! They're attacking the barricades! We need help!"
"Damn it!" Aedan cursed; he'd come up behind Alistair just as the militiaman arrived. "That's where they've gone – they're trying to attack the villagers instead!"
"We must help them!" Leliana cried out, rushing up to them as well.
Aedan turned back to the knights that were behind them. "Knights, stay here and guard the path! Sten, Striker, you stay with them!" Sten grunted and nodded, Striker barked and moved to Sten's side. "The rest of you, follow me!"
"Come on, we need to hurry!" The militiaman cried, already turning and running back down the hill towards the village. Aedan followed him.
Alistair hurried down the hill behind Aedan, Ayla close at his side. He didn't bother putting his sword away as they raced down to the village; neither did she. Morrigan and Leliana followed close behind them, Leliana with an arrow already strung on her bow.
As they reached the village, Alistair noticed that the barricades set up in front of the Chantry, around the bonfire, were indeed being swarmed by the creatures. They were everywhere, far more than there had been at the windmill, and were continuing to stream towards the barricades from the lake. The militiamen fighting inside the barriers were bloodied and exhausted.
In no time, Alistair and the others began cutting their way through the undead surrounding the barriers. As soon as they could, Leliana and Morrigan slipped their way inside the barriers and began firing at the undead from the inside. Alistair, Aedan and Ayla continued to make their way around the outside, clearing out as many as they could. Once there was a brief lull in the stream of undead creatures, the three of them found gaps in the defense of the barricade and took up positions there.
The lull didn't last long before more undead appeared, and the battle continued to rage on. Alistair soon began to lose track of time far worse than he ever had before. There seemed to be no end to the undead; the battle narrowed to the creature in front of him. He could feel exhaustion wanting to overtake him, but he beat it back, pouring all his focus and training into continuing to swing his sword and engage the closest enemy. Sometimes he would come to the aid of nearby militiamen; mostly he just concentrated on keeping the undead away from his portion of the barrier.
He was so out of it that he didn't even realize at first that the sky had finally begun to lighten. Just as he was thinking that maybe he couldn't swing his sword anymore, he realized that the darkness outside the ring of the fire was less complete. This gave him a boost of energy, and before long, the first rays of the sun began to peek over the horizon. As they did, Alistair struck down the creature in front of him and realized that there was not another one to take its place.
As he looked around, he saw that the situation was the same all over; there were only a few undead left that were currently engaged with other warriors, and no new ones behind them. He moved to help the fighter nearest him with one of the last undead, though his limbs felt leaden. And then, suddenly, there were no more.
"Is it over?" Murdock, the village mayor, asked shakily from behind Alistair. "Is it really over?"
"It seems so," Aedan replied as he approached. He looked as exhausted as Alistair felt, but didn't appear to be badly wounded. He'd already sheathed his greatsword. "The sun is up, and I do not see anymore. It would seem we won for now."
"We won?" Murdock repeated dazedly. Then, "We won!" he shouted loudly, shoving his sword into the air. The militiamen all took up the chant, shouting and cheering.
Alistair smiled wearily as he sheathed his sword. As he had done ever since the battle at Ostagar, he began to look around for Ayla, to make sure that she was all right. When he didn't immediately notice her flame-red hair nearby, he suddenly began to wonder when he'd last seen her. Usually she remained close by him during battle, as the two of them made a good fighting combination, and he was always at least somewhat aware of her presence nearby.
But he couldn't remember the last time he saw her, and panic began to rise through him in an ever-increasing whirl. No, no she had to be all right, she had to be. "Aedan, have you seen Ayla?" he asked desperately.
Aedan shook his head. "No, not recently, but I'm sure –"
Alistair didn't wait to hear the rest; he began to push his way frantically through the crowd of cheering villagers, scanning anxiously for a glimpse of red hair. Finally, he spotted it; two glimpses of red hair, standing next to each other, on the far side of the barriers from where he'd been. He let out a relieved breath as he approached, but started to tense up again when he got close. Ayla was leaning heavily on Leliana, with one blood-stained hand pressed to her right side. The archer was supporting her with an arm around her waist, while Ayla's other arm was around Leliana's shoulders.
"Ayla!" He rushed over to her, feeling a maelstrom of emotions race through him. On the one hand, he was relieved that she was alive and on her feet; on the other hand, he was panicked and terrified that she was wounded.
"Alistair!" She smiled brightly when she saw him, though she looked as exhausted as everyone else did. "I'm glad to see you're okay."
"What about you?" he demanded as he came to a halt next to her, sick with worry. "How bad is it?"
"Oh, don't worry," she assured him. "One of those things got a lucky shot in. I'll be fine; it's nearly closed over from the health potions Leliana gave me."
"I don't believe you would have been hit at all if you hadn't been shielding that militiaman," Leliana remarked. "It was very brave of you; I only wish I'd had more potions to give you, but I'd already used some myself."
"You did what?" Alistair exclaimed, even as he was fishing in his own pouch, checking on his supplies. His fingers closed around a vial, and he pulled out his last remaining health potion. "I thought I told you to be more careful!" He handed her the vial.
She took it with her blood-stained hand, opened the vial, and drank it all in one swallow, grimacing at the taste. "Thanks, and I only said I'd try," she reminded him. "These militiamen aren't real fighters; it's my duty to protect them."
Alistair sighed; he felt the same way, but still, she shouldn't be putting herself in so much danger. What if the wound had been more serious? But he knew by the glint in her eyes and the stubborn set of her jaw that he wouldn't be able to talk any sense into her. "We should get you inside the Chantry, let you rest. Leliana, can you find Morrigan and see if she can come look at Ayla's wound? She might be able to use that basic healing spell of hers, or she might have more potions."
"Of course," Leliana nodded. Alistair came over and took Ayla's arm from her, slipping it around his shoulders, and his own arm around her waist as Leliana began to move off through the crowd. Coming to a sudden decision, he bent down and put his other arm behind her knees, scooping her up in one smooth motion.
"Alistair!" she squawked indignantly, squirming in his grasp. "What do you think you're doing? I can walk!"
"Not without help, you can't," he pointed out, ignoring her attempts to get down as he began to walk over to the Chantry doors. "And this is a lot faster and easier."
"Well – but –" she stammered, her face going bright red. He thought she looked even more beautiful with a blush across her face, even if it kind of clashed with her hair. "Aren't I – too heavy?"
He snorted. "Not in the slightest." Which was true; he hadn't expected carrying her to be a problem, but even he was surprised with how light she felt in his arms. Given how skilled she was, it had been easy for him to forget how much smaller and slighter she was than him. "Now could you just let me help you, please?"
"I – oh, all right," she huffed out, crossing her arms across her chest. "But don't think you can get away with carting me around all the time."
"I wouldn't dream of it, my lady," he teased her as they approached the Chantry doors. He couldn't get over how right it felt to have her in his arms, as though she belonged. She didn't even belong in this world, she'd said so herself. Yet he couldn't shake the feeling, and now that she was here, he didn't think he'd be able to let her go.
One of the militiamen moved to open the doors for them, thanking the two of them for their help as they went by. Alistair nodded at him and made his way into the Chantry and over to where the pallets were. Other wounded warriors from the battle were being led to the pallets as well, and the remaining Sisters and townsfolk were tending to them as best they could.
One of the Sisters pointed out an empty pallet down at the end, and Alistair made his way there. He laid Ayla down carefully, kneeling down next to her. She made to sit up almost as soon as he put her down, but he gently pushed her back down. "Just rest," he said sternly. "Morrigan should be here any minute."
As if on cue, Morrigan came stalking towards them through the crowd, Leliana and Aedan on her heels. "Out of my way, you fool," she snapped at Alistair, as she made her way to Ayla's side.
Alistair scowled, but reminding himself she was here to help Ayla, he kept his mouth shut and got out of the way. The witch handed Ayla a healing potion while she downed a lyrium potion.
"Hey, Ayla," Aedan smiled down at her. "Are you doing okay?"
"I'll be fine," Ayla replied as soon as she'd finished the potion. "I've had worse wounds; nobody needs to worry about this." She stared pointedly at Alistair, who rolled his eyes in response. "I'll be ready to go when we head to the castle."
"About that," Aedan looked around at all of them before continuing, "Teagan says he has a way to sneak us into the castle. He's going to take us as soon as the village has a memorial service for the dead. The memorial won't be until noon; we're free to rest until then, and after that, we'll head for the castle and see just what's going on there. He says there's a house the rest of us can go to and get some sleep while we're waiting. As soon as you're done here, Morrigan, you should join us. The service will be in front of the Chantry; we can all meet here then."
They all nodded. "Sounds like a plan," Ayla agreed. "I'll try to get my sleep here."
"Yes, yes, fine," Morrigan said impatiently, already undoing Ayla's laces. "I'll join you as soon as I've finished with this fool's wound. Why you would want to risk yourself for these villagers, I do not know."
Ayla merely ignored her, smiling up at Alistair. "I'll be fine, Alistair, I promise. Go get some rest, you're dead on your feet. The two of you, as well," she added pointedly to Aedan and Leliana.
"Yes, she's right, let's go," Aedan turned and headed for the doors. Alistair and Leliana both said quick goodbyes to Ayla before following. Alistair suddenly realized that this would be the perfect opportunity to have that discussion with Aedan about Ayla. As soon as they got to this house where they could rest, he'd talk to him. And then, he could finally go and see for himself just what had happened to Arl Eamon. He just prayed that it wouldn't be too late by the time they got there.
Second A/N: So, one big reveal for Ayla down ;). She still has one more thing she has yet to tell Alistair, though. Don't worry, he'll find out soon enough, though it's going to be more of a "show" than a "tell".