Something to Think About
Once they were out of the mountains and on the road to Redcliffe they made good time. Blake continued to spend part of each night in Zevran's tent. The two Wardens were leading the way and Morrigan found herself walking beside the assassin. She commended the elf on his cleverness, "That is wily of you, Zevran."
"What is so wily of me, o magical temptress?"
"Getting in the good graces of the one who decides whether you live or die. Not to mention the one who can protect you against your former comrades," she slanted her gaze sideways in his direction.
Zevran merely raised an eyebrow, "And I am supposed to believe you are here because of a... sense of patriotism, perhaps?"
She snorted, "Ha! Hardly that."
"We all have our reasons for doing what we do. Mine happen to come with a set of strong hands," he chuckled at her look of cynical amusement.
Blake and Alistair moved farther ahead so they could talk. "Tomorrow we'll be in Redcliffe and see if the Ashes cure Arl Eamon," Blake began. "You know he's going to want to propose you as king since you are Maric's son, don't you?" Alistair nodded glumly. "I hate to tell you that he's right. He may have a slightly better claim to the crown than Loghain, but not enough to sway many of the nobles. I daresay the fact his men weren't at Ostagar will be used against him and I'm sure my family name is thoroughly blackened at the moment, so that leaves you to be the rallying point against Loghain."
"I don't want to be king but if putting me forward now makes it easier to build our army then I won't argue. But I will not be king if it means losing my Janna." Alistair scowled and then looked at Blake in consideration, "You know, you're not bad looking."
Blake blinked, he couldn't help it. "You're not thinking of hopping borders!" he exclaimed, "If you do I'll lose my bet with Zevran."
Alistair rolled his eyes but otherwise ignored him, "You're also a Cousland, the highest noble family outside the Theirin line. You could marry Anora. That would satisfy everybody but Eamon. You would be a much better king; you know politics and how to rule and could certainly keep Anora in check. Think about it."
"You've been hiding that devious mind. I didn't know you had it in you, big guy. We have a long way to go before we have to make any decisions although I think you're selling yourself short. Nice to know you're more than a pretty face," he teased. He laughed outright when Alistair blushed. Jannasilane joined them, "Package, I was just telling Alistair he is not simply a pretty face."
Jannasilane looked at him in all seriousness, "No, more than his face is pretty. Even Morrigan thinks he has a nicely shaped rear. His hair is sunny gold and his muscles are so big and well-shaped. I like his chest hair. It is thick and crinkly and goes all the way down . . . rrmph!" She gave a muffled shriek when Alistair picked her up and ran; his hand covering her mouth. Blake could see that even Alistair's ears were red and he began laughing. Behind him some of his companions who had moved close enough to hear her were also chuckling. Even Wynne had a smile on her face.
Zevran, Morrigan and Shale were the last ones to gather. "Is there a reason for such jocularity in the middle of the road?" the golem demanded.
"At camp tonight, when Alistair and Package are together, ask her about his chest hair," Blake snickered.
"Why would I want to inquire about such a, ugh, flesh creature thing?" Shale said irritably.
"Never mind, my fine rock friend, I shall do the asking and you need only observe," Zevran was delighted to have something new in his templar-baiting repertoire.
That night all were around the campfire. Zevran waited until the warrior was comfortably settled next to Pocket Goddess and eating his stew before speaking, "So, Alistair," he got the templar's attention, "tomorrow we shall be in Redcliffe." Alistair nodded warily. "I suppose you and the Warden will be checking on the status of your investment. I have been in many fine taverns and would like to offer you the benefit of my experience."
Alistair relaxed, "Ha, you just want to flirt with Bella."
"You wound me, Blake and I both want to flirt with the beauteous Bella." The templar smiled in good humor and put another large mouthful of stew in his mouth, not noticing the gleam in Zevran's eyes when he turned to Jannasilane. "My lovely Pocket Goddess, tell me of your fascination with the chest hair of our tempting templar."
Alistair coughed and spewed a mouthful of stew into the fire as soon as he heard the words 'chest hair.' He wasn't helped at all when Shale thumped him on the back. If he weren't so strong he would surely have joined the stew in the flames.
Jannasilane was shaking her head, "I enjoy running my fingers through it this is truth but I promised my Ali I wouldn't talk any more about how much I like his hair or how handsome he is."
"I find it refreshing that a young man as attractive as Alistair is so modest about his appearance. Conceit can mar even the most perfect of faces," Wynne's soft voice penetrated the laughter.
"Oho, you frequently comment on my conceit. I did not realize you found my features so pleasing," Zevran teased.
"I certainly do not," Wynne snapped.
Zevran's face fell and then understanding filled his expression, "I am crushed but now I see that it is Alistair for whom you have developed a tendresse."
"She cannot have him," Jannasilane blurted. She knew they were just joking but the words were out before she could stop them. Now it was her turn to become red as the proverbial beet while everybody laughed. Alistair looked smug and pulled her onto his lap so he could hold her while finishing what was left of his stew.
Wynne bit back a smile, "I am flattered that you see one as old as I as competition in a race I haven't entered. On that pleasing sop to my own vanity I shall bid you good night." Morrigan, Leliana and Shale also drifted away now that the entertainment was over.
Alistair looked at his empty bowl and then the stewpot. He wanted more but was well aware that Jannasilane had yet to eat, "You need food, Jannalove. I know you're nervous about tomorrow but you still need to eat. Thanks, Zev," he said when the elf handed stew to the woman in his arms as well as refilling his own bowl.
Jannasilane sighed, "I know my Ali. But what if the Ashes do not cure Arl Eamon?" She began eating in a desultory fashion.
"Worrying about what might happen is pointless when you already know what steps must be taken," Sten replied. "The Warden believes the effort is necessary to ensure the good will of Redcliffe whether success is had or not. If this is true then it matters not whether this Eamon or his brother are in charge." He stared calmly at the small woman who looked back at him. "Alistair, are you afraid she will run away if you are not holding her?" Sten did not understand why the other warrior felt the frequent need to hold her like that.
"What?" Alistair was a little annoyed at being constantly questioned, teased or harangued about him and his love. "I thought you of all people would approve of the efficiency. Two of my favorite things are cuddling with my lovely Janna and eating. Now I'm doing both at the same time. Don't Qunari cuddle, ever?"
"Cuddle? Do all humans do this?"
"Only if they like each other. A lot."
"You and our leader like each other but you do not cuddle," Sten was perplexed and irritated.
Blake decided to intervene before one of the warriors lost their temper, "Alistair means liking each other in a romantic sense. Or possibly for comfort if they are close enough, such as a family member. Want to join me for a 'cuddle,' Zevran?"
"I would be more than happy to, my handsome Warden," Zevran purred. "Perhaps even do more than cuddle. Did I ever tell you about the time . . ." His words were cut off by his tent flap closing behind them. Sten silently finished his dinner and left.
Alistair rubbed his face against Jannasilane's hair, "Now it's only you, me and General Lee." He planted a kiss on top of her breasts. "Tomorrow we'll know if Eamon or Teagan is in charge of Redcliffe's forces. I know they'll support us but Blake thinks, and I agree that it's likely that Eamon will want to name me as Cailan's true heir. That Maric's son will be a better recruiting tool for our cause than either Eamon or Blake."
Jannasilane suddenly felt cold doubt run down her spine, "S-so you would be king?"
"No. No, I don't even want that. But Loghain is a tough opponent and Maric's son, even if it is just me, has the only claim to the throne as strong as or stronger than Anora's. I don't like it, but we need as many troops as we can get as well as a great deal of support from the nobles. I don't think they'll care that much who sits on the throne as long as Loghain is taken down but they risk a lot and will need to be convinced of our, I guess of our commitment before they will even consider throwing their lot in with ours. I just didn't want you to be caught by surprise if, when Eamon is back on his feet. Remember this, I am yours, always. I don't care if they want to make me King of all Thedas I will not leave you. If you try to leave me I will follow you. Don't doubt me on this, Jannasilane Alenahaella," he warned before capturing her lips with his.
"It is too late for either of us, I think," Jannasilane answered breathlessly. "I love you, always. I will not leave you, this I promise. I might as well not breathe as be without you."
"I kind of like it when you can't breathe when we're together," he quipped, relieved at her response.
"You are a bad, bad man," she kissed him. They quickly cleaned everything they found before heading to their tent.
The village was full of activity and the castle was set to rights. Teagan greeted them warmly, his welcome to Jannasilane overly warm in Alistair's opinion. "You look much happier than the last time I saw you, my dear. I'm glad," he kissed both of her cheeks while she blushed prettily. He kept her hand tucked in his arm while he escorted the Wardens to Eamon's room. "I can hardly believe you found the Ashes. I look forward to hearing the story of what must be quite the adventure."
Jannasilane could feel the tension running through him, belying the lightness of his greeting. She rubbed his arm in comfort while they watched the healers use the Ashes. She didn't notice him looking down at her in gratitude. When Eamon began to stir a few moments later Teagan dropped her arm and rushed to his brother's side. When Eamon began to speak she quietly left the room to inform the others. On her way she passed by Connor's room and saw him sitting anxiously near the door pretending to read a book. She went inside and he looked up at her, hope and dread chasing each other across his face. "Your father is recovering; he's talking to Teagan and your mother right now. I'm sure you'll be able to see him soon," she smiled reassuring at the nine year old boy.
Connor's reaction surprised her. His book slid off his lap when he hid his face in his hands to hide his crying. Jannasilane, in deference to his male pride, shut the door and then wrapped her arms around him. He clutched her as if his life depended on it, dragging her to the floor next to him. Jannasilane continued to hold him and stroke his hair and back soothingly while he let the stress of the past few months work itself out. She scowled above his head, wondering if his mother or anybody had bothered to really talk to the boy. He was sobbing so hard she worried he would hurt himself. Finally he quieted except for the occasional hiccupping gulp. He tried to pull himself away but didn't fight her when she tightened her arms and kissed his hair, "I'm sorry, miss, for, for disturbing you. I'm glad that Father is better, really I am."
"I know you are. The past few months have had much difficulty, have they not?" He nodded, his head pillowed on her breast. "Even I need to cry once in awhile, though I do not like to do so. Do you wish to talk?"
He shook his head, "It's okay for you. You're a girl."
She rolled her eyes at that but answered quietly, "My Ali is the strongest, bravest man I know and I have seen him cry. It is not easy to be a Grey Warden who has lost everything and know that Ferelden and the whole world are depending on you to stop the Archdemon. Like you he does this in private."
Connor sniffed, "How brave is he?"
"Well," she considered what to tell him, "After we retrieved the Ashes he bashed a dragon and cut off its head."
He looked up at her, his eyes wide, "Did he really?" He was awed by the picture she painted of Alistair rushing a high dragon with sword and shield. He fell asleep, worn out by his emotional storm, while she told him of other adventures. She smiled to herself and continued to hold him.
Teagan and the Wardens left Isolde alone with Eamon. Teagan wanted to bring Connor to see his father while the Wardens rejoined their companions. Teagan smiled when he opened the door to Connor's room, "Connor couldn't find a better pillow." He noticed Jannasilane glaring at him, "My lady is angry with me for some reason. Now is not the time but I'll be sure to ask her later." In order not to distress the boy any further he closed the door and knocked loudly enough to awaken him. "Connor? Your father is asking for you."
Connor woke with a start, blushing when realized he'd fallen asleep in Jannasilane's arms. Tactfully she made no mention of this, "I am happy that your father is well. I will leave so you can quickly refresh yourself if you like." Quickly she left the room and waited with Teagan.
Mere minutes later Connor joined them, eager to see his father at last. He didn't forget his manners and he bowed to Jannasilane, "Thank you for coming to talk with me. I feel better now." Then he practically tugged Teagan's hand to go to Eamon's side.
