Thanks for reading, everyone! I appreciate it.
The next day they made it back to Redcliffe Castle, finding that the mages had already arrived. Apparently it was shorter to take a boat across Lake Calenhad than go around. Una wished someone had thought to mention that, and perhaps to offer her people a ride. They could have used the rest.
Preparations were made for the ritual, then everyone was banished from the chamber except the mages. Una took a look back at Wynne, lying down with a peaceful expression on her face, before the door closed.
It seemed to take forever, as Una paced back and forth before the door and Isolde knelt in a corner, murmuring ceaseless prayers. But eventually it was over. The demon had been defeated, Connor and Wynne were safe.
The mage and child were both resting and the rest of Una's crew were at work reoutfitting, refurbishing, and generally preparing for the next step on the journey when Bann Teagan and Arlessa Isolde called for Una to join them. She debated for a moment before asking Alistair to come along with her. Alistair's affection for the Arl and his family was likely to affect how the conversation went, but she couldn't deny him the chance to be part of it, at least.
They walked into the Arlessa's sitting room, where Una found herself at the receiving end of Isolde's fulsome expressions of gratitude. "Really, my lady," Una said. "Anyone else would have done the same."
Watching her, Alistair could see she meant it. She honestly thought most people would have gone so far out of their way to save an abomination. What an extraordinary woman, he thought, and how much he had grown to care for her. Suddenly he knew he couldn't go another day without telling her how he felt. If she didn't share those feelings, so be it—but he couldn't hide them any longer.
His decision made, he was able to return his attention to the conversation at hand. Bann Teagan was asking Una's opinion about what to do with the blood mage, Jowan, who had poisoned the Arl in the first place. Alistair knew exactly what he would do, but wasn't sure what Una's decision would be. He could tell she was uncomfortable with a man such as the Bann asking for her guidance, but then she took a deep breath and Alistair saw her golden eyes darken.
"Jowan knows the consequences of his deeds," she said. "He should be made to suffer them." Una took a deep breath. "He should be executed."
"Really?" The Bann seemed surprised.
"Justice must be served," Una said, and there was steel in her voice as she thought not of the blood mage but of Arl Howe. Isolde murmured her agreement in an equally harsh tone.
"Very well," said Bann Teagan. "Then I won't wait for Eamon to be healed. We will deal with the blood mage immediately." He looked at Una again. "There remains the question of how to heal Eamon."
"Is there no way other than finding the Urn of Sacred Ashes?" Una asked, hoping against hope. She knew where this conversation was going; she knew, especially with Alistair standing there, that she had no choice but to agree to go off on this wild goose chase … but she wasn't going to be sent off chasing a mythological curative without at least some protest.
"We've tried everything," Isolde said wearily. "Even the mages cannot help Eamon now. The ashes of Andraste are our only hope."
"And you are the only person who can find them," Teagan added.
They were strong shoulders, Alistair reflected. Strong, lovely shoulders. But could they hold all of this? Avenging her family, forming an army with a cobbled-together crew, resolving a civil war, stopping the Blight, and now finding a religious relic that had been lost for centuries, if it had ever existed at all. There had to be a limit to what one young person could handle.
"All right," Una said. "I'll do my best." If she sighed or felt that this was an impossible task she was signing up for, Alistair couldn't tell. Ferelden needed Arl Eamon in good health, after all.
Isolde spent a few minutes detailing to Una all the progress the knights had made toward finding the Urn. It turned out their best first step would be going to Denerim to find a man named Brother Genitivi, a scholar who might know something of the Urn's location. It wasn't much of a lead, but better than nothing, Una thought. Taking their leave of Teagan and Isolde, she and Alistair left the family quarters. As they walked down the hall, Una kept up a running stream of commentary—things they needed before heading out, whether it was better to head for Denerim next or go on to Orzammar—to try to keep from thinking what an impossibility she had just signed up for. She'd been so confident they could save the boy; she only wished she could feel equally confident about the father.
Alistair wasn't paying attention. His head was filled with what he would say to her, how he would get her alone in camp without anyone noticing … when he realized they were alone right now. Could he do this now? Swallowing hard, he thought he had to. The moment was here, he had to take it. Spying an open door to one of the guest rooms, Alistair put a hand on the small of Una's back, guiding her inside. Following her, he closed the door, leaning back against it.
Una cocked her head, looking at him quizzically, searching his face for some clue to what they were doing in there. She could still feel the touch of his hand on her back and her legs felt weak. Backing up, she sat down on the bed, crossing her legs and looking up at him expectantly.
Alistair's mouth went dry as she did so. She made such a lovely picture sitting there, all he wanted was to push her down on the bed and … He ran a hand over his face, trying to banish those images. He was having a hard enough time deciding what to say without completely overloading his brain that way. "So," he began, finally. "All this time we've spent together—you know, the tragedy, the brushes with death, the constant battles with the whole Blight looming over us …" He took a deep breath. "Will you miss it, once it's over?"
Una laughed, leaning back on her arms. "It makes me tear up just thinking about it."
Alistair laughed with her. "There'll be no more running for our lives. No more darkspawn." Then his face turned serious. He took a deep breath, then walked across the room, looking out the window. He couldn't look at her for this part, or he'd never be able to say it. "I know it might … sound strange, considering we haven't known each other for very long. But I've come to … care for you. A great deal."
Una's breath caught in her throat. All thoughts of anything happening outside this room had been wiped away. She stood up, trembling.
When she didn't say anything, he went on. "I think it's because we've gone through so much together. I don't know." His head dropped, and he continued, so softly she could barely hear him. "Or maybe I'm imagining it. Maybe I'm fooling myself." He felt her standing behind him and turned to face her. His eyes met hers. Barely able to breathe, he took the final plunge. "Am I? Fooling myself? Or do you think you might ever … feel the same way about me?"
Intoxicated by his nearness, by the sweet, hopeful expression in his eyes, Una wasn't sure she'd be able to speak. Finally she said, tremulously, "I think I already do."
He smiled, murmuring something that neither of them paid attention to. Their eyes held each other's as he took a step toward her, one hand, shaking a little, reaching out to cup the side of her face under the curtain of her honey-gold hair. She leaned into his caress, her eyes closing. His hand slid down to cup her jaw, gently pulling her closer, and then their lips met. Una gave a strangled gasp at the sheer sweetness of it. His kiss was hesitant at first. Then her hand curved around his neck, fingers stroking at the back of it.
Alistair groaned as the sensation overpowered him. His arm swept around her waist, pulling her up against him, and his tongue slid between her parted lips to find hers, hesitantly at first but with increasing boldness as she clung to him. They kissed for endless heady minutes, reveling in the feel of each other. At last he lifted his head, breathing heavily, and said the first thing that came into his mind. "That— That wasn't too soon, was it?"
Una's head was swimming. She held onto his shoulders to keep from falling, and tried to get her breathing back to normal. Which was difficult to do, as his hands were still moving restlessly over her back. "I don't know," she said at last. She saw his eyes shadow, and realized that he still wasn't entirely sure of himself. She pressed closer, feeling a tremor move through his body, and grinned at him. "I need more testing to be sure."
He grinned back. "I'll have to arrange that, won't I?"
"Please," she murmured, as his mouth covered hers again. All hesitancy had passed, and they kissed hungrily.
Finally they broke apart, both of them gasping for breath. Her eyes were wide and soft and had gone a vibrant shade of green. Alistair gazed at her in wonder. "Maker's breath, you're beautiful," he breathed. "I am a lucky man."
She blushed, looking away. No one had ever called her that before. Or looked at her that way.
"Now," he said, clearing his throat, "let's get back to … what we were up to before. Lest I forget why we're here."
Slowly they stepped away from each other, rearranging clothing, smoothing hair, and generally trying to look presentable. They weren't able to do much about their shining eyes or wide grins, though.
They joined the rest of the group, helping to get all the gear and supplies ready for the next journey. Finally, when the last bag was packed, they assembled in the great hall for dinner, sitting around the big table. Una filled them all in on the quest for the Urn of Sacred Ashes.
Morrigan was the first to speak. "So," she began sharply. "Where is it to be? Shall we head into the lion's den of Denerim, hunting for this … Brother Genitivi? Or do we turn our steps toward the halls of Orzammar, to win the dwarves' support?"
Una took a deep breath. "I think we need to help the Arl," she said, studiously not looking at Alistair. "We need his support against Teyrn Loghain if we're to be able to fight the Blight properly, and we need his troops, which cannot be pledged to us in his illness." She looked around the group, seeing various shades of agreement. At the very least, there was no actual argument forthcoming, not even from Morrigan. "On the way to Denerim, I think we can afford to take a day off and go to Soldier's Peak. We may learn something about the Grey Wardens, could pick up something—either knowledge or equipment—that can help us against the Blight, and if Soldier's Peak can be won back as a base for the Grey Wardens in Ferelden, so much the better." Again, no out-and-out disagreement. Una felt pretty good about that, actually—she was the youngest and arguably least experienced person in the room, but they accepted her leadership and trusted her reasoning. It might be a strange group of castoffs, but Una felt them all behind her like a brick wall. She felt the need to say so. Standing up, she took a deep breath, looking around at all of them.
Morrigan inclined her head when Una looked at her. Grenli leaned his furry body against Una's leg. "I just want to say how much it means to have you with me." Leliana smiled at her, and Wynne was nodding slowly, her expression serene. "With all of you behind me, I feel we could take on an army. In fact, we have, and we will again," she said, smiling ruefully. Zevran winked at her as her gaze rested on him. Finally, she looked at Alistair, whose eyes were warm on hers. "Thank you, all of you, for being willing to give up your own lives and pledge your immediate future to this cause and to me. I will never forget it." She considered adding something about the debt she owed them, but then her eye caught Morrigan's again, and she thought better of it. It seemed foolish to make blank promises that might come back later to haunt her.
"Now," she said. "Let's all try and get a decent night's sleep—in real beds for once," she added to cheers. "And then move out fresh and rested tomorrow."
A/N: If I was going to rewrite this, I would definitely have brought up the Urn of Sacred Ashes before this chapter. That's what I get for skimming through Lothering and the first trip to Redcliffe.