Half Full

Chapter Twelve

By Of Quirky Excellence aka LyriumGhost18

It didn't take her long to catch up with her exhausted and devastated childhood friend. Maeve nearly tripped over his trembling form, as after the mages had gotten out of sight of the others and Jowan realized he was being followed, he ran. He ran until he collapsed into a deep snow bank, and he lay there, sobbing, until Maeve slipped on some slick snow and nearly fell right on top of him.

Once she got her bearings she sat up and brushed crystals of what was now literally ice falling out of the sky from her gingery hair. "Jowan…" Her hand found its way to his shoulder and she applied gentle pressure until he raised his head slightly.

"Maeve, how can I live with this? My selfishness cost Lily her life!" He cried, as Maeve threw her arms around him and held him tenderly. He clung to her as if his life depended on it, shivering in the frigid and howling breeze.

"You will be all right. It's not going to be easy, but I'm here. I'm with you every step of the way. I won't abandon you, ever. I promise." She tried soothing him with her words, her voice low and her tone gentle as she rubbed his shoulders to try and help him warm up. Soon, however, she was mumbling things, all reassurances, into his ears, no longer knowing or caring what she was saying. She just had to be there, to comfort him, and stand by his side when nobody else would. That was what he had always done for her, and so now she refused to let the man she loved suffer alone or in silence.

They stayed in a village the next few nights. Lily's remains were cremated on a pyre the first morning they arrived in the little town just a few miles from Orzammar.

Maeve had asked that the Chantry in the village perform the funeral, of course, with the assurance that she was a Grey Warden and she and the mages in her midst had permission to be outside the Circle. This made Jowan nervous and it made the Templars watch them closely, for perhaps the first time since they had been at the Tower. Even Maeve was on edge at Lily's funeral. After a part of the Chant of Light was recited by the village's revered Mother, Alistair joined the other Templars as they said the words;

"Ashes we were and ashes we become. May you rest at the Maker's side evermore."

Then Jowan plucked up all his courage and asked Maeve if he could say something as the pyre was lit. Maeve took his hand and led him to the Revered Mother and the old woman gave Jowan a sad, soft smile. "Of course, young man. I think Lily would like that."
Jowan fought back tears. This woman spoke to him as if he were a small child mourning a dead pet. But he nodded. He was careful with his speech as he did not want to give these Chantry folk reason to hate Lily or curse her name, despite what she had done. For him.

"They say those who pass from this world to the next go to the Maker's side, and that He can show the mercy mortals sometimes cannot. I know that bit must be true, because the Maker spared my life, when others would not have. I can only pray it works the same way for a soul. Because no mortal is without sin. Lily was courageous, she was beautiful, and she loved me despite my own flaws..." He paused, choking up, and Maeve squeezed his hand gently, whispering into his ear.

"You're doing great, Jowan." She offered him a sympathetic smile and reached up towards his face and wiped away some tears.

Then Jowan continued. "I didn't realize how horrible it is to think that you caused the end of someone's life, until it happened to me…though I am not directly responsible for Lily's death, I can never forgive myself, because I could have prevented it. Had I come sooner, been faster, or stronger for her, had I not made so many mistakes that broke her heart…Lily would still be alive and with us today. Smiling and helping people, and sharing the Maker's love with us all. Thank you." Jowan wasn't sure how he had held himself together for this long, but he began to sob again. Maeve had to help him off the podium, an arm around him with a cloak draped over his shoulder.

The pyre was lit, and Jowan couldn't bear to watch the man with the torch set what was once so precious to him to flames. He watched the burning silently, however. He felt he owed Lily the consideration to stay with her until she was nothing more than ashes. So he stayed. Maeve stood with him, quietly and faithfully. The events of the past few days getting to her tear ducts. She cried her fill on Jowan's shoulder after having stayed strong for him the entire day. Then the Revered Mother came over to them and cast Jowan a kind smile, her aged features similar to Wynne's.

"Your fellow Grey Warden told me everything." Jowan looked shocked and betrayed. Alistair and his big, fat mouth. Jowan would have set Alistair's trousers on fire, but the man was no place to be seen. Then the fear swept over Maeve's face. Jowan felt a pinch of guilt in the pit of his stomach. That fear was of losing him. Of the Templars taking him because he was a maleificar, and because he was to blame for Lily's death. But the Revered Mother's kind face told a story of its own.

"You are a good young man, Jowan. Earnest. Gentle. The Templars of our village have been watching you, of course. They must watch all mages in their midst, Grey Warden or no. But you show traits very uncommon for a blood mage, or even an apostate."

Jowan was about to speak, his expression utterly terrified. The Mother remained calm. "Be at ease, lad. Alistair told me everything. Not the Templars. All they know is you are a mage among the Warden's companions. Whether you actually join the Order is none of my business. You have been conscripted and with the Wardens you shall stay. The situation with Lily was very unfortunate. But I do believe in time you will recover from your hurt and your troubles. You will learn from your past, and you will find peace."

Jowan relaxed. Maeve was still standing by his side, a watchful eye out for any Templars that might be around, who might want trouble. But they stood alert, on the other side of the room. Maeve let out a sigh.

"And you, my dear," the Revered Mother said softly to Maeve. "You are so very young, and yet you have seen so much. I can see it in the way you treat him, your kind nature, and your tenderness towards him. You love this man. He may have made mistakes and you may even have been angry at him for them, and angry at the world, but you love him, and one day, love will conquer all."

"Thank you, your Reverence." Maeve bowed her head, and Jowan did the same.

The Mother nodded and smiled, glancing down at the pair's joined hands and intertwined fingers.

"Young love is rare, true love is even rarer. When you have found it, you must hold on to it, lest it slip out of your grasp. You should rest now, both of you. The trials of today were miniscule in comparison to the challenges you will face in the months to come. Go, now. With my blessing, and that of the Maker."

And so they did.