Dragon Age
The Rose of Highever
A/N: The next nine chapters will be the second part of the story. Enter the courting stage. The tone will be lighter and fluffier. Enjoy while you can, things turn serious in the third part. Right now I have 26 chapters done, about 14 more to go. Editing takes up most of the time. It's a very bad idea to have two ongoing stories writing simultaneously, especially when both stories focus on the same pair of characters. I'm trying my best to distinguish each of them, and put this one in first priority. There's too much to lose if this story didn't make it to the end.
Thank you for reviewing the story. It makes me feel warm and fuzzy to know someone out there is entertained by this little story, and gives me a boost when self-doubt "what the hell are you doing writing all these" kicks in. Thank you for stopping by. Enjoy.
Part II
Chapter Eleven: Play the Game
Afternoon sun filtered through the canopy of leaves over their heads as Samantha's group traveled on the path along Lake Calenhad. The view of the lake was magnificent. Gentle breeze disturbed the otherwise calm surface as the water reflected distant scenery like a distorted mirror. Despite the clear day, Samantha could barely make out a tiny structure in the middle of the lake in the far distance. Even though she'd never been there, she knew that lone structure built in the most curious location was none other than the famous Tower of Magi. That was their destination.
Samantha could only hope they would make it to the Tower and back to Redcliffe in time. For a boy's life was hanging in balance, waiting for the group to seek help from the Tower of Magi. A demon had possessed Arl Eamon's only child, killing soldiers in the castle just to turn them into undead monsters to attack the village at night. Many lives had lost, and many more would follow if they couldn't kill the demon. Anyone of Samantha's allies could have defeated the demon had it not chosen to reside inside the boy. Yet, it continued to use Connor as its shield, hiding inside his body. Samantha knew the demon had to be killed, and had to be done soon. The question was how. Somehow, everyone put the responsibility of making such life and death decision on the two Wardens, namely Samantha, as Alistair usually deferred all the decisions to her, even in this particular case. Or perhaps especially in this case, since Alistair had a strong emotional attachment to the arl, neither of them trusted that he would make a rational decision. The fate of a boy had been put in her hands, and Samantha almost couldn't stand the pressure, but she pulled through and made the call. It's time like this when she thanked the Maker for giving her Teyrn Bryce's levelheadedness.
The quickest and easiest way to end the possession were to either kill Connor, hence the demon along with him. And then, there was an option provided by the blood mage Lady Isolde had unwittingly hired: let Isolde be the blood sacrifice needed for a mage to enter the Fade and kill the demon there.
The first and most direct option felt wrong to Samantha. The demon had killed hundreds of innocent lives, not the boy. The only fault the boy had was being foolish enough to summon a demon to help his sick father. As for the second option, Samantha could not deny the poetic justice behind it. Everything had come down to Lady Isolde's foolish pride. Had she not hired a tutor in secret just to hide her boy's budding magical talent, none of these would happened. But Samantha had known the woman in the past. Isolde might be completely vain and utterly selfish, but she was not treacherous like Howe. After all, if being vain and selfish was a crime, almost all of the nobles in Ferelden would be criminals.
In the end, Samantha had made a huge gamble in choosing the hardest way to deal with the possession situation: to seek help from the mages. Leaving Connor under the blood mage's care until they could be back with Circle mages could potentially be very dangerous, should the blood mage not able to monitor the demon as he had said. But Samantha felt it was the best choice amongst the three, if everything went accordingly. It was an irrational gamble she had made, betting one young life against many innocent ones. If she would take time to reflect upon her decision, she'd notice that it was a gamble made due to the weakness of compassion for a boy who somehow reminded her of her own nephew Oren, if Oren had the chance to grow a few years older. The stake was incredibly high. If she won, all the lives would be saved. If she lost, hundred of lives would be gone in the name of preserving a boy's life; their blood would be on her hands, and she would have to live with that guilt for the rest of her life.
Still, the choice had been made, bets had been placed. The group was now traveling along the famous lake towards the Tower of Magi. Alistair had been most pleased with her decision; Samantha was not surprised about that. He had forgiven Isolde and genuinely cared about Connor's well being. If only the arlessa was just as kind and forgiving as the bastard prince she had once cast out.
If the bastard prince was bothered by the arlessa's attitude towards him, he certainly didn't show. His mood had been cheerful for the past few days since they'd left Redcliffe. Not once had he mentioned the arlessa's name. And right now, in this beautiful, sunny afternoon, walking on the scenic path along the lake, there was only one woman who had captured his undivided attention, and she certainly wasn't the arlessa.
"My turn to ask," said Alistair tapping his chin thoughtfully. The two Wardens had been playing a silly game of asking each other random questions to past the time. There was no rules, only requirement was to answer truthfully. "What was the most daring thing you have ever done?"
"You mean beside drinking poisonous darkspawn blood that could kill me?"
"Yes, beside that." He chuckled.
"The most daring? Let's see..." Samantha tilted her head to the side and pondered.
"Sneaking out of the castle?" Alistair suggested helpfully.
"I have done no such thing!" The Lady Cousland crossed her arms and tried to glare at him in mock anger, but her lips betrayed her and curled up in a smile.
"You've never sneaked out of the castle to go to the local bar?" he asked with a teasing grin. "I would have done it too many times if I were you."
"Perhaps because I am not into bar wenches, like the red-head in Redcliffe..." She sent him a meaningful look, expecting his cheeks to flush any moment.
And they did. "It's the atmosphere, not the women!" he protested indignantly. "Anyway, staying inside the castle all day is bad for your health. It's so... stuffy."
"I was born and raised in one, so I guess I was used to the... 'stuffiness'. But, there was this one time I sneaked out-"
"Ha! I knew you had a wild side underneath the poise!" Alistair interrupted with a laugh.
"It's not what you think," Samantha corrected him promptly. "I didn't sneak out to go to a bar, but to join a tournament fight."
"You did not!" He gasped, genuinely surprised.
"I did!" She laughed as she recalled that particular incident. "There's a tournament every year during the spring festival in Highever. I entered it last year. And won."
"They let the teyrn's daughter join the fight? That's not a fair fight, was it? Who would dare to raise his weapon against you?"
Samantha shot him a glance with a faint huff. "Fergus entered those tournaments every year when he was younger. His opponents never had problem fighting him."
"Yes, but... You are a lady, Sam!"
A fine eyebrow was raised to challenge him. "A lady who helped you kill that ugly ogre."
"True..."
"But you're right. I wasn't supposed to enter the tournament. My mother would never agree to that. Not because she didn't trust my skill, mind you. She did not want me to scare off all my potential suitors." Samantha rolled her eyes with a faint snort.
"I don't know about scaring off all suitors. For me, I like women who could kick my ass. Not literally... but you know."
"No damsels in distress for you, then?"
"No, thank you." He shook his head in mock disgust. "I can barely take care of myself. I don't want to take care of another person constantly. Anyway, how did you enter the tournament unnoticed?"
"A helmet," Samantha answered proudly. "I told my mother I wasn't feeling well enough to join them at the festival. I sneaked out of the castle and signed up for the tournament with a fake name. Then when the tournament started, the viewing balcony was too far for anyone to recognize my dagger. I fought and won, round after round. It wasn't easy fighting with limited vision, but I managed. Imagine the look on everyone's face when I took off the helmet after the very last round." She smiled mischievously at her companion, her sky blue eyes twinkled.
"Especially your mother's, I'd imagine." He seemed more impressed by her mischief than her physical prowess.
She giggled. "Yes. Especially hers. She nagged my ears off at that night when she bandaged my injuries, but it was worth it. My nephew worshiped the ground I walked on ever since that day." Her smile was the happiest he'd ever seen on her; her entire face lit up at the memories of happier time in her life. "Anyway, that's the most daring thing I have done, beside all these Warden things. Now it's my turn to ask you a question."
He narrowed his eyes at her in fake suspicion. "You are not going to ask me to tell you any embarrassing tales, are you?"
"I could, if you wanted. But no, I'll go with simple questions for now. The day is still young, after all. Let's see... Why have you remained in the templar if you hate the Chantry? You don't seem the religious type."
"Have you seen the uniform? It's not only stylish, but well-made. I'm a sucker for good tailoring," claimed Alistair jokingly.
"Can't say I have. I thought templars wore heavy plate, mostly."
"That's just in public. In private we have these yellow and purple tunics, right? Much more comfortable, and you don't break the beds when you jump on them during a pillow fight."
Samantha stared at him incredulously at first, then couldn't help but laugh softly at that ridiculous mental image. "You had pillow fights?"
"Oh, I'm good at it. Don't you ever start a pillow fight with me. You'll lose. I've been trained, you see. On confession day we could go all night. Being a templar isn't all about chasing men in skirts and hiding behind priests, you know."
"You, in skirts? I think I'd like to see that."
"For you, maybe. But it has to be a pretty skirt," Alistair insisted in a mock serious tone.
"That can be arranged. I do know where to find the best tailors in Ferelden," said Samantha who played along with a straight face of her own. "But, really, you don't have to tell me the real reason, if you don't want to. I was just curious."
"You don't really want to know about my being a templar, do you? It's really quite boring."
Samantha shrugged. "Then make up something more exciting. We are at least a day away from the Tower."
"I like the way you think. But I guess if you're really curious, there's no harm in obliging." He shot a glance over his shoulder to check out the rest of the companions followed behind, then leaned down toward her shorter form and lowered his voice as if sharing a secret. "You know, I have a few much more interesting but embarrassing tales I can tell you later, when you're bored."
His voice tickled her ears, sending a shiver up her spine. The Lady Cousland held a breath and managed to control her muscles admirably, soothing away any ripple before it even appeared on her calm surface.
"The truth of the matter is that I did hate going to the monastery. The initiates from poor families thought I put on airs, while the noble ones called me a bastard and ignored me. I felt like Arl Eamon had cast me off, unwanted, and I was determined to be bitter. But I took some solace in the training itself, I guess. I was actually quite good at it."
"What did you enjoy about the training?"
"The education, mostly, but also the discipline. You need to have a disciplined mind in order to use the abilities we have. It was difficult, but rewarding. I never really felt at home anywhere, though, until I joined the Grey Wardens. And Duncan felt my templar abilities might be useful for when we encountered darkspawn magic, so I kept it up."
"I can't imagine what life would be like growing up in a chantry. It must have been hard for a child to live under such strict rules, and not to mention very scary at least at first. I would hate it there too, were I you. I could barely sit through Mother Mallol's sermon when I was young." She wrinkled her nose at the distant memories.
He turned to observe her for a brief moment. "Well, living in the chantry is... not exactly a life for rambunctious boys. But they taught me to be a gentleman, especially in the presence of beautiful women such as yourself. That's not so bad, is it?"
Samantha thought she'd heard the word 'beautiful', but convinced herself either she had misheard it, or he had misspoken. "Not really, no." She shook her head with a smile, her long ponytail sent flying behind her head.
"Good." He cleared his throat. "You'd... want a gentleman to court you, wouldn't you? If... if you were to be courted by someone, that is."
Her face felt warmer at that sudden question. She wasn't sure if she'd heard him correctly, or if he was indeed asking what she thought he was asking. Either way, instead of jumping straight to answer his question, she offered him a graceful way out of that topic if he chose to. "That counts as a question, you know. Are you sure you want to use your turn to ask me that?"
But he didn't back down. "Well... yes."
Samantha dropped her gaze to the ground in front of her and studied the shadows of the leaves on the path as she walked, composing herself for proper reaction. She could feel his eyes staring at her profile, waiting for her answer. What's the harm in answering this simple question? After all, the only rule in this game was to be truthful, right? With a warm smile, she turned to face him once more. "I'd like that."
He released a breath he was holding and returned her gesture with a bashful grin. "That's good to know. I'll... I'll have remember that."
Days after days, battles after battles, their partnership grew. But it was silly little moments like this when a special bond between them was truly forged. For they did not see each other as Wardens, nor as a bastard prince or a teyrn's daughter; any burdens that came with their titles were momentarily put aside as they let their guards down in each other's company and truly be themselves. For a brief moment in this sunny afternoon, the Blight had been temporarily forgotten, both of their hearts lightened, offering a much needed respite.
Side by side, the two Wardens strolled down along the scenic path by the lake. If they weren't fully armed in their armors, if they were traveling alone, the scene could have easily been from a beautiful painting depicting a young couple taking an afternoon stroll. Almost picture perfect.
