"And then a huge light erupted from the tower, bigger than the sun!" The bard's arms went wide and the group of children he was speaking too ooh'd and ahh'd appropriately. Each face was enraptured as they listened to the tale of how the Archdemon was brought low by the Grey Wardens.
"Loghain had driven his sword deep into the skull of the dragon, shattering it and sending all of the darkspawn back into the Deep Roads, never to return!" The children cheered at the happy ending, immediately breaking out into an excited chattering and scrambling to their feet. Some shouted that they were Grey Wardens, while others filled roles of their own appointed heroes. There were certainly enough to go around, after the dust had cleared - the bodies had piled up, seemingly endless.
Her own dear mibari, Breslin, had been taken in the stomach by a blade - he had died defending her. When she slept at night, the room was too quiet without the sound of whines and barks that came from him in his sleep, or even the huffs he would make every now and then; when simply traveling from place to place, her hand would reach out in search of a furred head, only to find empty air. She had had Breslin for a number of years, and he had become an intricate part of her life; perhaps the last tie to her old self. Now he was gone as well, buried in a hero's grave amongst other mabari who had given their lives both at Ostagar and at the siege of Denerim.
Riordan had perished in bringing the Archdemon down to the tower of Fort Drakon. Numerous Redcliffe soldiers who would never see their families again; and, of course, Loghain had sacrificed himself in order to slay the Archdemon. Riordan had kept that particular secret to himself until just before the battle, Elissa thought glumly as she raised the mug of ale to her lips and took a deep swallow.
The Boar's Head tavern had been one of the few places relatively unharmed by the darkspawn attack - which was well enough, considering its decent supply stash, with food, medicine, and other necessities that would be vital in the rebuilding of Ferelden's capital. It had been two months and, though a majority of the city was still in ruins, the citizens had already made do with what they had. Families were sharing space with other families (though it was still racially divided - the elves had even less room in the Alienage, and those who wandered out of it were finding the city to be even crueler than before with what little there was to go around) and most were finding plenty of work in rebuilding.
After the battle was over, she had returned to the palace in a hero's welcome. Only Alistair's cool gaze had leveled her head, brought her back down to earth. They had clasped hands, as propriety and the people demanded: their Theirin leader and Grey Warden hero, working in tandem for peace in the realm. In public they had made nice, smiling and acting as though nothing had changed. In private, he could stand to be in the same room, even speak to her, but it wasn't the same. There was a distance. She had put it there herself, and she wasn't even sure she wanted to will it away - it had waned a little in the two months that had passed, but it would never be the same again.
"King Alistair's set to decree a raise in wages to those who help rebuild the west wall," one man began conversing on the opposite side of the bar. Elissa nursed her drink, listening carefully with the skills Leliana had taught her.
"I heard he's trying to get elves out of the Alienage," another commented, obviously disgusted. "Damn knife-ears need to remember their place."
"At least he's taken to learning," the first continued, seemingly intent on singing his new monarch's praises. "I hear he sneaks out of the castle at night, going into taverns and speaking with the common folk. You ever remember Cailan doing that?"
"No, but Anora had a fair hand. I don't trust this man, not yet. It's too soon." Good man, Elissa thought. Good men, both. It heartened her to hear that Alistair was beginning to thrive in his new role. There was no reason for him to not enjoy it - now he had a whole realm to protect, new morals to cherish and endorse.
There had even been talk of him looking through the countryside for a bride, a common lass that would put the king on even ground with his new subjects. Show them that he thought himself no different from any other man. A strong political move, meant to win the people. It didn't make her heart hurt any less despite the fact that it was mere rumor. Unconsciously, one hand raised to find the necklace hidden under her breastplate.
Though she had entrance to the palace, Alistair was careful in what he discussed with her; she had first thought it out of spite, but perhaps he was trying to protect her feelings after all. He had asked her to stay on as counselor, a slim pleading in his eyes - so there was something there, faint and flickering, but there. She took another drink, the alcohol feeling delicious down her throat and in her belly. She had to be careful to not imbibe too much - she had a lot of riding before her.
Her eyes ran over the letter on the bar in front of her, fingers brushing the side in thought. Written in a scrawled cursive, the message it imparted was clear-cut. She hadn't shown it to Alistair. It was from Weisshaupt, the Grey Warden headquarters in the Anderfels. A letter from the High Commander himself, inquiring about the most current Blight. Asking if there was now room for a branch of the Wardens in Ferelden. Alistair would've been overjoyed at the letter, immediately sending a reply that yes, of course, now was the time.
After all, Amaranthine, Arl Rendon Howe's estate, had been gifted to the Wardens to use as a base. There was also Soldier's Peak, but it had been reclaimed by the Dryden family (as was only their due, considering what their ancestor had done to bring them so low - strange, how one person's actions would affect an entire people). She had thought it odd that a place she had once known as a child would no longer be home to the people she knew still lived. It had crossed her mind, Thomas and Delilah Howe, their mother...and any other relatives were now on the streets if they were even still alive.
Alistair had offered her a boon, as was befitting her actions. They had stood before the throne, not as Alistair and Elissa, but as King and Hero. They had become characters in a story. She had had it in her power to restore a little to their family, to at least ease the suffering caused by one member's actions. But she had no idea of their roles - had Thomas joined Fergus (oh how sweet and miraculous it had been to find Fergus after the battle, and how heart wrenching to tell him of the fates of his wife and son; it seemed that the grief was never ending, having to relive it over and over) in the battlefield at Ostagar? Had Delilah known of her father's plans? Thomas had always been the bullheaded one, but Delilah was sweet and kind hearted. So unlike her father.
She could not find it in her to forgive the whole family, and had asked for nothing save thanks. What she truly wished was a second chance, an explanation that Alistair would accept, perhaps... forgiveness for her actions, for words spoken in anger. But there was nothing that could be done. So she had asked to save it for a later date, perhaps once she had found her childhood friends and found it in her own heart to pardon them. Until then, she couldn't bear to part with the one last thing Alistair had given her; it would be some time before she would see him again. It seemed that she was creating a habit of saving lover's tokens.
Folding the letter into equal threes and tucking it into a pocket, she set the empty mug on the counter along with two silver pieces. It was a bit much for just a cup of ale, but times were tough now. There was no reason to be stingy, not when she had the ear of the king and all of the resources of the Grey Wardens at her disposal. She walked out of the Boar's Head, slowing as she searched for a familiar face.
"Did you find what you were looking for?" Turning to her left, she found Leliana approaching her from where she had been waiting, leaning against one of the tavern's walls so she might not be observed by anyone walking out. The two had become quite close in the short time after the battle; Elissa had found Leliana to be invaluable in her advice and her support, especially since Alistair had become so cold towards her. It was rare for the Grey Warden to be seen outside of the company of her redheaded bard. The two had separated for a few hours - Leliana to gather the necessities for their trip, Elissa to gather the latest news - and had planned to meet just outside of the tavern at an appointed time.
"Close enough." Unable to stop herself from smiling, Elissa slid an arm around Leliana's waist while the redhead returned the motion; the redhead's eyes spoke of what she knew. It was obvious to her that Elissa was hurting from the loss of Alistair. She had imparted an Orlesian saying she had once heard:
The friend within the man is that part of him which belongs to you and
opens to you a door which never, perhaps, is opened to another. Such a
friend is true, and all he says is true; and he loves you even if he hates
you in other mansions of his heart.
The words were beautiful, especially when spoken in the Orlesian tongue; the translation, however, brought Elissa little comfort. They began a slow walk towards the gates leading through the marketplace towards the main entrance to Denerim. The construction had most eyes turned away from them, but there were a few glances that came their way. Neither woman paid any attention.
Horses were prepared for them at a stable just a few yards outside of the main gate. Leliana claimed a russet mare while Elissa sat astride a gray gelding. They started down the path at a slow trot, neither in any hurry to pass the time.
"Where are we off to?" Elissa gazed out over the horizon - so many possibilities, and yet she was almost afraid to leave Denerim, let alone Ferelden. The sunlight beamed down on her face, and for a moment she closed her eyes. Allowed the bright, warm light to soak into her skin, and a smile blossomed on her face.
This had been something she had promised herself: to live, once all of this was over. Doors had closed while windows had opened, and she would be remiss if she didn't take advantage of the opportunities that lay before her. She turned to her companion.
"Why don't you decide?"