.11 Healing and heritage

If matters concerning the Warden's relationship weren't clear from then on, they eventually grew solid over the days that followed. On their quest to retrieve the Urn of Sacred Ashes Elissa and Alistair fought with a passionate strength, and their newfound affection towards each other couldn't go unnoticed despite their stressful endeavors.

Even though Zevran seemed to insist to continue his flirtatious manners - under the rule "you can't teach an old dog new tricks" - by the time the party was on it's way back to Redcliffe castle he seemed to have given up hope at a chance with their leader, lust or love. Although his friendship with Alistair didn't quite warm up, Elissa expected their recent private conversation had proven a cause in the matter. In their newfound understand, she was able to focus on both her relationships with the men better; Alistair in romance, and Zevran in training.

Once again the Wardens made up the party to visit Redcliffe castle, embodying the sacred escort for the ashes that which were hopefully to cure arl Eamon's poisoning. When the healer cast the dust from the pouch over Eamon's lifeless body he had soon stirred, as waking up from a deep sleep. His immediate responses left bystanders flustered, grateful for the miracle of life the returned bastard prince and his consort brought upon their ruler.

Immediately after rising from his sickbed, Eamon called upon a meeting in the main hall. The arl spoke his appreciation about the effort for his recovery, but mainly about his concern about the unavailable means to fend off a civil war against teyrn Loghain. Their only solution was to call on a meet in Denerim, allowing them time to collect proof to push the traitorous commander off the throne.

"Those claims will give Loghain's allies pause, but we must combine it with a challenge even he can't ignore." Eamon had smacked his lips with a thoughtful frown, as if the taste of poison still lingered on his lips.

"We need someone with a stronger claim on the throne than Loghain's daughter, the widowed queen."

Teagan interfered, barely able to hide his disbelief. "Are you referring to Alistair? Brother, are you certain?"

Elissa heard a stiffened gasp next to her. She subtly turned her gaze to Alistair, his face unexpectedly hard, his lips pursed to a thin line as he stared in front of him, his hands linked behind his back as she had seen him do what seemed thousands of times before.

"I would not propose such a thing if we had an alternative, but the unthinkable has occurred."

While Eamon explained they should put their bets on the royal blood residing in their midst instead of on a more suitable candidate who could seem opportunistic, Elissa pushed her look upon Alistair, which he exchanged regretfully.

It took her less than a glance to get a grasp on his inner struggle.

The bastard prince, sheltered under Eamon's wing since birth but never once accepted in his midst. Sent off to the chantry because his uncle's young Orlesian wife felt threatened by the presence of an orphaned child, rumored to be her husband's. Even now he was being discussed as a political pawn instead of the man he had become, now driven back into the role of a rebellious young boy who wanted nothing more but to be anyone else but a possible threat or heir to the throne.

And he was, he realized. The gryphon emblem shone proudly on his chest, heaving up and down with his accelerating breath. He was a Grey Warden now, one of the only two left in Ferelden. He might not have finished his templar training and he might not be a great leader, maybe not even a great Warden. But he had other obligations than to meddle in political games while he grew up learning his heritage was a secret, if not a shameful one, and least of all something to rely upon.

But Warden or not, a fierce warrior or no; when Eamon insisted Loghain would win without his effort to step up and take what all of a sudden was rightfully his, Alistair could only mutter in wretched agreement.

Elissa was shaken from her irritable stare by arl Eamon, who spoke to her. "What do you think, Warden. I do not wish to proceed without your blessing."

She turned her gaze from Alistair to the arl, crossing her arms and eyeing him with what she hoped would seem polite interest. "What are my options?"

"I see only one way to proceed. I will call for a Landsmeet, a gathering of all Ferelden's nobility in the city of Denerim. There, Ferelden can decide who shall rule, one way or another."

She then turned her gaze at Alistair. One filled with compassion, understanding and the same heartfelt sorrow that had occupied him from the moment his heritage had been brought up again.

The templar was surprised how Elissa seemed to take his side, and his hardened face relaxed for a fleeting second. Until she spoke.

"Then I suggest we follow your plan."

Elissa took a courteous bow and moved in a dignified stride from the main hall. Alistair followed only a step behind her. They passed ser Perth in the hall with his soldiers, and before they reached the staircase to the guest accommodations, he grabbed her arm and pulled her into the arl's study.

"Then I suggest we follow your plan?" He imitated her in a mocking voice. Elissa pulled herself free from his grasp, looking offended.

"Do you have a better idea Alistair?"

"Yes, what about not feeding my dear uncle ideas about making me King! You know I'm not even fit to lead our party, let alone all of Ferelden!"

"You'd be amazed what you could do if you'd put your mind to it, but I respect your thoughts on this." She strut into the room and sat down on the edge of the desk, nonchalantly leaning backward on her hands. Even though Alistair felt angered he couldn't help but long to walk up to her and touch her, vent his frustration on her in wild passion. Until her words sank in.

"Wait, you do?"

"Yes," Elissa eventually spoke. The single word sounded grudgingly, but decisively spoken.

"Yes, Alistair. I was the second child of a teyrn, never prepared or deemed fit to rule my father's lands." Hurt was ridden through the sound of her voice as she spoke. "Now, everything's changed. Fergus might have been alive before the battle, but so far there haven't been any clues he survived the raid at Ostagar."

Tears started to pearl in her eyes and Alistair stepped closer, but before he could comfort her in his embrace she stopped him by holding his wrists.

"Family duty has made me consider the possibility to return home after all this, to rebuild the Highever citadel and to support my father's people. To fulfill the role that would never be mine to play, even only as long as it would take for Fergus to return." She spoke with great sincerity, a warmth that could only come from an upbringing of just and righteousness, and a longing for compensation for being surpassed by her sibling.

Alistair reached out to her but she turned her head and sighed. He caught her wiping her cheek as she shook her hair and recaptured her poise.

"But I know I am a Warden now. With a duty beyond arls, teyrns and even Kings."

She almost spat the words at him, not in mockery but with a tone that appointed the redundancy of these matters in the current light of day. Yet as she continued, her inner struggle sounded through her words.

"We are the only ones in Ferelden who can stop the blight. We are to submit to the taint within thirty years. We're known to be unable to reproduce. A dying breed."

She sighed, turning herself back to him. "Our ancestry is behind us, whether Eamon understands this or not." She locked her eyes to his, smiling apologetically: "After all, there will be no politics to meddle in when there is no Ferelden left."

"But if a Landsmeet is deemed the only valid option, we might as well oppose as little as possible." She continued, sounding tactical rather than emotional: "Like Eamon said, only there Ferelden can unite and decide who shall rule, one way or another. We will find a solution."

Alistair looked at her in quiet contemplation and then curled the corner of his mouth up into a smile. "Duncan would have been proud of you." He wiped another tear from her cheek with a streak of his thumb. "And I couldn't have been more grateful for a fellow Warden who understands her duties as well as I do. Who understands me, better than I do."

Elissa looked down but allowed Alistair to lift her chin and meet her lips in a tender kiss.

Before they broke apart Alistair heard the sliding of wood. He looked around to discover the source of the noise, and saw that Elissa opened a drawer from the desk she was leaning against. She didn't turn his eyes away off his face, but smiled curiously.

Alistair looked down. In the drawer lay a silver amulet. It showed an image of Andraste's holy flame, riddled with cracks. He picked the chain up between his finger and his thumb, supporting the pendant in his palm. "This is my mother's amulet, it has to be. Why isn't it broken?"

"I found it during our last stay here." Elissa spoke softly.
"And you didn't knick it like you do with everything else you find? I'm surprised."

Elissa recognized his mocking tone and threw him a playful look, barely revealing a hint of relief. "I thought, well I hoped Eamon would soon be able to give it to you himself."

"He must have found the amulet after I threw it at the wall, all those years ago. And he repaired it and kept it, but I don't understand. Why would he do that?"

"Perhaps you mean more to him than you think."

Alistair suddenly stood up and clenched the amulet in his fist. "I can hardly believe that," He spoke with badly contained anger in his voice. He turned around and continued heartily, almost in desperation. "I know, I know, I should be thankful for his upbringing. Someone else might have left me to die in a ditch to save himself the trouble of hiding my heritage and taking care of me."

"But growing up feeling rejected, not only by my royal father but also by the uncle that sent me off in favor of his untrusting wife... Even now he talks about me like I'm not there, like I'm a pawn to be taken in and out of the game whenever the need arises. How could I possibly feel what he wants me to do is in my best interest?" He quickly added in a muttering tone: "and considering the fact he's asking me to rule over Ferelden, in everyone's best interest."

Elissa walked up to him and took the pendant from his hand. She looked at it for a moment, and then looked up at Alistair, throwing the chain around his neck, hiding the pendant under his shirt.

"Everyone is out for themselves Alistair, you should know that."