Chapter Nine
Days of Travel
For breakfast the next day, I made cheesy chicken nuggets, mac and cheese and apple juice.
Sue me – I was feeling childish.
"Hey Morrigan – I have a question for you," I hummed as I cooked.
She sighed – everyone was gathered for breakfast since it was almost done, "What is it now?"
"What do you think is the height of stupidity." I asked.
"6'2." She replied. I pretended to think, "The only people I know that are that tall on the button are Fergus Cousland and Alistair. So…"
"Right you are." She grinned.
Alistair barked a laugh and passed me a silver coin, "You win."
"Wait – what?" Solona asked.
"I told him I could get Morrigan to say something halfway funny if he wouldn't take offense. Don't remember the coin being part of it."
"Just wanted a reason to rub it in that she was led into this," Alistair flashed me a grin.
I rolled my eyes, but smiled a little that he was pleased with me.
I almost frowned when I realized just how pathetic that was – subsisting off of scraps of affection.
Aedan said, "Right… well, I'm switching things up today – rather than my usual crew of Alistair and Ava, I'm taking Sten, Sereda, Alim, and Leliana."
Leliana said, "Oh – but I do have a question, Ava!"
I looked at her in curiosity, "What is it?"
"You said that mates get 'unlimited wishes' – but you haven't mated with Alistair yet. Does it still count?" she asked.
Sten looked intrigued so I replied, "Technically, no – not unless I uh… bedded him… even if it were before I was freed, as long as we shared the preliminary bond of… it's very complicated – but while it doesn't technically count, I do know that he's my mate, so the rules are much looser. I can still grant his wishes if he made them. The letter of the law is that we can grant unlimited wishes to our found mates even before freedom. The phrase 'found' once only meant if we slept with them and knew that they were ours – because it was the only way that we knew they were. It wasn't until thousands of years after that time when we learned that we could find mates through two other ways."
"Rejection being the first – what's the second?" Aedan asked.
"Mates… okay, let's say my two mates knew one another before ever meeting me. Let's say they were both male but strictly like women. They might develop a 'shared-bond' – a bond where the two mates could grow to love one another and be mates themselves. So – if Alistair had this kind of bond with someone, then he could simply say the name and I'd know. But he'd have to be the one saying it. And it only works if the two have – at least – kissed to 'solidify' their bond." Yeah – I hadn't told Alistair that yesterday, but I had taken a chance.
I saw my mate getting red, "You're a terrible woman." He… I think he was mad.
I flinched, "I… oh." I swallowed hard, "I'm sorry to hear that. Ahem – you all know the way out. Excuse me."
I heard someone scolding Alistair, "She was just talking about what could be – she needed an example. Why did you call her that?"
I didn't hear his response – if he gave one. I headed for the stable – the Halla had a calming presence. I was crying silently as I approached her. She seemed somewhat destressed by the sight and came padding over to me to rub against me.
I wasn't sure how long I sat in the shade of the stable. I just knew that I had contemplated quite a bit after a while.
My mate didn't want me – sure, as he repeatedly pointed out, he hadn't meant to reject me before… but I wasn't his type anyway. And Cullen… if he was traumatized by whatever happened in the tower – even if he wasn't in the thick of it – then…
I leaned against the wall and looked up with my eyes closed, whispering a prayer to the fates, "Let me die free… please."
My tears had long sense dried – but my chest hadn't stopped aching. And knowing what I now knew, it wouldn't stop until… until I died.
4 thousand years… I'd waited and hoped and prayed every damn night for my mate. I suppose because I mistook the dream, the fates were angry with me. I'd only prayed for one of them – not both.
I thought I'd been patient – maybe I'd been too arrogant? Too prideful? Willful? What exactly had I done wrong?
Was I so bad? Did the fates find me lacking?
So many thoughts flowed through my head – each making my chest pain worse. I started to feel sick. And due to Aedans vow, he only needed to make his second wish before my heart could shatter. If he made his second wish before Cullen pushed me away… I was sure I would die the moment Cullen did just that.
I stood and moved toward my room in determination. I began to use my magic to change it.
It now looked luxurious. The walls were off light grey and the carpet matched, the furniture was off white or black. One wall had dark brown shelves built into it. The bed was big enough for both of my mates and me, though… I would never be a part of that. The shower in the bathroom now had grey and white marble walls with shelves built in, a waterfall shower head above and a regular one on the wall. There was a spa-style bathtub big enough to be a pool with water-jets. A 3-person sink. A linen closet full of towels and soaps and…
It was no longer a childs' room. Maybe it was vain – I made everything designed for three people – 3 closets, 3 sinks, 3 robes hanging in the bathroom… I wanted them to remember that I existed when I was gone. I would still sort-of be here. This house would exist as long as they did – it would vanish only when they died. But this house was inside of my magical core – I was the house.
That was how Genies changed things to their will inside their homes.
I was still standing in the new bathroom when I fell to my knees – this wasn't me anymore. Even if it was built for three, there would be no trace of me past the clothes I'd leave behind.
"Ava…?" I heard Solona call out from the door.
I didn't answer – I couldn't. After so long of a life, I think I was having an existential crisis. She came to me, "Hey – what… what happened to your room? It was so pretty…"
A sob wrenched from my throat and I folded in on myself. Solona seemed to freak out but… I hit my head on the new sink counter and passed out.
-While Ava passed out-
After patching up her head, Solona worked to pull the blue-haired genie into the grey bed – not stopping to note how amazing the new room looked or how the bed felt. Once Avalon was situated, Solona stomped from the room in search of their resident Templar.
She found him in his room down the hall, playing with figurines made of gemstones, "This is your fault!" Solona snapped.
Alistair looked up in shock, "What is?"
"Avalon – she had a melt down and completely changed her bedroom. It doesn't look like her at all anymore! There's nothing there that was there before – not a trace of blue or purple or other coral colors. It's all grey and white now! It looks more like… like… well, I don't know – but it's like she doesn't plan on living there anymore! And she was crying – she cried so hard that she fell over and cracked her head open. She's passed out now. I had to move her into her bed – except it's not her bed anymore. You saw before – the beautiful underwater tones and the clam bed and the hidden cove bathroom… it's all gone!" Solona ranted at the senior warden – not realizing her scolding had drawn the attentions of everyone else left in the house.
Solona pressed on, "I don't know what you think you're doing but playing with her emotions is a shitty thing to do, Alistair Theirin. She's hurting enough as it is believing you don't want her when you dance around her, but making comments like you did at breakfast? She seems to think she needs to change her entire personality or whatever to please you. You are tearing her apart – killing her – because you won't be a man and admit how you feel about her. I assume these gem statues that you're playing with came from her – so I wonder what more she needs to do for you to see that she loves you. If you don't man up, you'll fucking lose her – we all will."
"But… what about Cullen?" Alistair asked.
"Who?" Solona snapped.
"Her… other mate. I thought… she was also holding on for him…" Alistair muttered.
"You're joking – tell me that you're joking. You called her terrible because she outed that you have a 'shared-bond' or whatever? When she's in enough pain thinking you don't want her? Alistair, so help me, you had better fix this. Just because she has another mate doesn't mean that you have all the time in the world to make a damn move. The more she believes you don't want her, the harder it will be to convince her you do. And look at what just happened! She needed medical care because she cried so hard, she cracked her head open. She was bleeding all over the new marble flooring." Solona ground out. Her hands – unbeknownst to her – had caught fire and now glowed a dim blue.
Cailans' voice spoke up, "Makers' Breath – is she alright?"
"No – she's out cold – I worried she would die just based on her injury. You've seen her room before – go look now. The difference between the fun, pretty, under-the-sea room and this new one is night-and-day. There is only one trace of her anywhere – and that's the closet labeled with a coin. The other two closets have names – hers doesn't. It's like she expects to leave this house to the men and even let them share it with someone else." Solna frowned.
At once Cailan began moving down the hall – the others followed. Everyone had seen the Princesses room at some point or another. Well, everyone other than Sten or Leliana who had only just joined the group.
Cailan moved close to the bed after the horror of seeing the drastic change subsided. He looked on at the Jinn woman – her face scrunched up in pain – as he brushed a lock of hair from her face.
Alistair looked around in subdued horror – he didn't like the new look of the room, but more than that… he knew Solona was right. There wasn't a single trace of his woman anywhere but for one closet tucked into the corner. He had the suspicion that if he checked, it would be the smallest closet now – he didn't want to know what happened to all of her things. He worried that she'd completely destroyed them – all of her mementoes and keepsakes gathered throughout her life, the gifts she'd accumulated from family…
Where were all of her things? If she had died today from that crack to the head, what would he have had to remember her by? What could he have picked up and carried around as a reminder of her?
He'd lost his father-figure – and luckily, Avalon had told him that he could have something to remember the man by; his shield. But what would he have had of his soul-mate if his actions had led to her death? Would he have even had the right to ask for anything to carry around – a keepsake?
His heart pounded as he slowly approached the bed – terrified to see her, but needing now to reassure himself that she was alive nonetheless.
He knew he was messing this up – but… he had no experience in relationships at all. The kiss with Cullen had been their first time getting drunk and the two men had sworn not talk about it again. Not that Alistair recalled much of it past leaning in and pressing his forehead against Cullens'. He'd blacked out around then, so he didn't even remember the kiss itself.
The point was – he wasn't sure what to do; how to show her that he cared for her. He thought he'd explained himself well enough about the supposed flirting with Lyna and Solona. He hadn't even realized he'd been flirting. But she hadn't caught on to his feelings or hints.
And he didn't know how to just come out and say it.
The rose in his room… maybe he could give her that? But what would he even say?
Alistair mindlessly sat on the bed beside Ava – he'd searched for her after the debacle at breakfast 3 hours ago but he hadn't found her. The house was large and she knew every corner of it – he supposed that if she didn't want to be found, it'd be easy to hide. He felt he should have kept looking – he should have continued to search – or he should have waited in her room for her to her to return. She was bound to return at some point after all.
But he'd given up – he hadn't known what he would say when he found her. What could he even say in such a situation? 'I was merely teasing – not upset'? Would that have worked.
Darrien 'spoke' through his tablet – saying that he was going to prepare soup for lunch. He'd found many cookbooks on a bookshelf in the large kitchen and enjoyed trying the recipes; some of them had been written in there by a feminine hand, but it wasn't Ava's handwriting.
Darrien recalled asking about it once – she had smiled and told him about her sister 'Sia'. Darrien remembered thinking it was such a strange name. Avalon had laughed at his musing and told him that – without magic – she was a shitty cook and they'd be eating burnt water for every meal.
Darrien had been teaching her to cook better without magic – but… progress was slow.
Faren crossed his arms – he didn't like people much, but Avalon had become a bit of a fixture. He knew he'd been an ass in the beginning; but he just couldn't help thinking she wasn't prepared for the harsh reality of life. Still… seeing her room completely different than before… he felt more like an ass.
He had complained just once that he missed being below ground – and he woke up the next morning to his room being reminiscent of a dwarven bedroom. Stone bed and all.
He clicked his tongue. If the surfacer didn't get his act together, Faren might have to stick a boot or three up his arse.
Lyna had a similar story – having missed the outdoors, she woke up to her room looking and feeling like a forest. Her bed looked like a mini-Aravel just big enough to fit a mattress. The little structure had one side cut out of it to make it easy to get in and out of bed. The floor was actual grass – not fake grass or carpet meant to feel like grass, but grass that needed watering and sunlight each day. There were even vines on the walls that covered what seemed to be walls of an ancient ruin. Just like the Dalish would sometimes camp in.
There were even effigies to the creators in the room – all of them. Even a wolf statue facing out to the balcony like in any camp. Lyna had been most surprised, however, to see a detailed painting of Tamlen – her almost bond-mate – sitting on a small 'tree-stump' beside the bed. Lyna wouldn't tell anyone, but she had cried when she saw that.
As for Morrigan, she was watching the templar with confusion. She may have made many comments about him – it was fun to her to tease him and push his buttons – but she genuinely couldn't understand him. It was clear to her that he loved her – the foolish idiot hadn't left the girls' side for the entirety of the week and a half stay at her mothers' house. If Darrien or Alim hadn't taken him food, he wouldn't have eaten. If Alim hadn't taken him water and cloths, he wouldn't have 'bathed'.
The man could give the comments as good as he got – it was refreshing to have someone able to keep up with her banter… but he couldn't tell one woman how he felt? Maybe I was right, she thought, we have two Mabari in the group and he's still the dumbest one here.
Cailan looked to his brother – having observed the thoughts flashing across the faces of everyone in the room – and said, "Brother… if you don't make your move soon… I'll begin seriously wooing her. She doesn't deserve to feel like she's in last place – she doesn't have to house us, feed us or any of this while waiting for Aedan to make a damn wish. She could have waited until he wished for it to force his hand. I've teased her because I know that it isn't me that she wants – but if she… I will replace you if you can't do this."
Alistair didn't acknowledge his brother – truthfully, he didn't seem to have heard him at all. Cailan frowned at that – it should be a sign to his thick brother.
No one had asked, but everyone knew that Cailan had actually shared Avalons' bed by this point. The next day, Alistair had been broody – apparently, the door hadn't completely shut.
Cailan wasn't about to tell anyone that he'd done that on purpose to try and knock sense into Alistair. It hadn't worked anyway.
Slowly, everyone began to leave the room – leaving Alistair and Avalon alone.
It took some time for the prince to realize this – and when he did, he didn't feel any shame in getting more comfortable on the bed and pulling Avalon close. He just needed to hold her – to feel her breathing.
Maker, he thought, I've almost lost her twice now. What happens if Cullen rejects her?
A horrible thought occurred to him – The tower. She has magic – and Cullen will be in the middle of a failing tower. He hasn't seen such things before; neither have I, but… what if he rejects her just based on her magic after that?
More and more scenarios began to occur to the prince – even as he fell into a fitful sleep, holding his soulmate close to his chest.
-Ava-
I groaned softly as I came awake with a splitting headache.
Where was I…? I tried to move but I was being held firmly. I squirmed a little to see who was holding me and my breath caught when I saw that it was my mate.
I knew it was selfish of me but… I curled into him. I wanted all the time that I could possibly get just pretending he would ever be mine. I wonder who had strong-armed him to cuddle with me.
Maybe Sia had visited and pulled the elaborate and detailed explanation about how mates cuddling can help heal or something. It was true – but I wouldn't have pushed him.
I took a deep breath – it was calming being in his arms. I never wanted it to end.
I felt him begin to tense – a sign that he was waking up – and quickly closed my eyes and forced myself to relax; I didn't want to make things awkward for him later.
The door to my room opened and I heard Solonas' voice, "The others are… Alistair," she hissed.
He jerked awake and held me tighter, "Wha…?"
"The others' are back – any changes?"
Alistair cleared his throat and began nudging me. I groaned and curled closer to him, muttering, "Don't wannoo…"
He chuckled, "Ava – please wake up…"
I peeked my eye open and asked, "Who informed you that mates could snuggle each other back to health? I bet it was Sia." I then sat up and yawned.
"That's… a thing?" Solona asked.
I nodded, "Especially if the Genie has Shape-Changer blood anywhere in their line – or Fae, werewolf or nymph. My dads' great grandma is a dryad – and the only thing I inherited from her was the ability to heal through familial or mate connection."
"… This is good information to have," Alistair said softly, "But… um… no one told me."
Then someone likely just told him he had to snuggle with me and he didn't ask questions. I knew Alistair had a penchant for following orders rather than giving them.
I shrugged and headed toward my new closet, when I heard Alistair blurt out, "Where are all of your things?"
I glanced at him, "What?"
"The uh… all the mementos and trinkets you had in here? All the pictures and… and personal stuff? Where did it all go? Why did you… change the room?" he asked.
I sighed, "I can change it to something else if you don't like this style. But I changed it since… well, I thought you'd like it better. As to all my stuff, it's in here," I motioned to my closet. I didn't tell him but… when I died, the closet with my things would completely empty out – all the stuff would go to a hidden room in the lower basement – a room that only existed beneath the pool. The only way in was to break the bottom of the pool or be a genie.
All of my clothes, pictures and 'mementos' as he called them… I wanted nothing left behind for him to worry over.
"I… liked your old room better," he muttered, "It was… fun and… cute. This just feels… empty."
I chuckled, "It's all new – it would feel empty to anyone until you filled it with your stuff… did you really like the other way better?"
"Of course – exactly as it was. Fun colors, a shaped bed, and… it was… I loved it." He was flushed.
I bit my lip – it had taken a lot of magic to get things moved around. Well, from Solonas' words, it was nearing bed time anyway. I waved my hand – draining the rest of my magic to put things back the way they were. I staggered a little and then dipped into my closet to get new clothes on – what I was wearing now had blood on it.
Since it was almost real bedtime anyway, I chose silk pajamas – a shorts-and-tank set in black. The tank-top had a lacy V-neck and the shorts had lace around the edges.
I wasn't even worried about whether or not I'd be able to sleep later – I was magically drained; there was no way I'd be able to stay awake.
When we got downstairs, I thanked Darrien for cooking – he'd made fettuccini chicken alfreado with pesto for dinner.
Aedan was looking around, "So… why is the mood here so somber?"
"It's nothing much – I tripped today and split my head open," I sighed, "Though… I do have to tell you something."
Everyone seemed to straighten up to pay attention.
"What is it?" Aedan asked.
"As you've likely noticed by now, the only magic that I use to help the group is to tuck us all away in here or take us all out at once. Unless it will benefit me, I can't use any other magics to help without a wish. I knew I wouldn't be able to teleport us to the top of the tower during the battle of Ostagar unless you wished it, but then something was blocking my magic more than usual. Genies in the service portion of our lives have a restriction on their magics anyway – our magic force is cut by half, we can't use magic to benefit anyone but us or our masters, and… I mean, there are exceptions – obviously. Transporting people to our house, making food, and such are exempt from the rules… but unless you or Alistair wish for something, then I can't use my magic to help you unless it relates to the crusade I've undertaken."
Sten spoke, "What limits your magic?"
"The fates, I suppose. I think it's part of a deal the first Genie made to get his magic. We serve either a certain amount of people or until we're wished free, we have limited magic during that time, and so on. A lot of the details have been passed down as best we can, but other things are open to interpretation. Magic follows intent – if we intend our magic to make soup, it won't make pasta. If I intend to aid myself, then I'll bandage, not cut. Hmm – oh. let's say I cast a harmful spell – like a mini-blizzard or something; I intend to harm our enemies and aid my friends – so my friends won't be harmed or cold or anything but my enemies would freeze, slow and even shatter if hit while frozen."
"That's… amazing – if a mage casts blizzard, they're going to freeze everything; friend or foe." Solona said.
"So – if we need something magical, then Alistair or Aedan needs to wish for it unless it somehow helps you to get Howe?" Faren asked.
I nodded, "And Aedan only has one available wish left. He made a vow to free me – he said 'I swear' and that's all it takes. He vowed it and now he can't use the third wish for anything else. Not that he can even use that wish anyway until Howe is dead – or manages to make restitution for his deeds to Aedans' satisfaction. My crusade is to exact vengeance – but that doesn't always mean death."
"He'll die if it's up to me," Aedan clenched his jaw. I shrugged, "Then he dies. Any…"
My bracelet was flashing blue – by now, everyone knew what that meant.
"Loghain?" I asked.
"We have an issue. I learned that… Howe has put a price on the heads of the Wardens. I do not know where he got the money – I've been keeping guards on the Highever estate so he hasn't claimed the Cousland fortune – but he hired the Antivan Crows. I was furious – but Crows do not stop active contracts. Either you take care of the assassins they send or the wardens die for the contract to end. Thankfully, I learned that only one crow has taken it on – an elf; he has blonde hair, green eyes and markings on his face. You'll know him on sight, I hope. Howe does not understand why I am angry – I… have told no one that you are still with the wardens. I made it seem like you escaped Ostagar with me and we were split up later." Loghain wasn't usually one for rambling like this.
"That's fine – Howe will never find all of my wardens at one time anyway. You know why." I said.
"Ah – not all of them walk at once then? That's good. Howe has been quite helpful for the most part, but this was far out of line."
"Did he at least specify that if I'm encountered…?" I wondered.
"If a 'blue haired woman' is encountered, you are to be taken alive and returned to Howe. I don't know his plan, but he seems to want you 'brought to safety'."
My fat ass. I got the feeling Howe was seeing dollar signs when he thought of me. I closed my eyes, "It won't be an issue. I happen to know the crow that you described – Zevran is a close friend of mine and not so easily swayed from loyalty. He is loyal to his own life – if we get close to killing him, he will be easy for us to take in. Don't worry – he won't touch me."
"I'm… glad. Would that Cailan were alive. It turns out, he did more to support the throne than Anora ever led me to believe. The pressure is… insurmountable. There are several things that I'm sure how he managed it. The supplies for the circle need checking, the… forgive me, I'm… a bit stressed."
"I'm always here to talk. I can send my brother, Arthur. He's very good with paperwork, filing, and order."
My brother wasn't a Jinn – he was a dhampir. He was my fathers' son from before dad gained his abilities. His abilities included 'immortality', acute hearing and vision, swift regeneration, and control of animals. He was also quite fast and could daywalk – walk in the sun. not all dhampirs could.
"What is his experience?"
"3,000 years of aiding my father, the king. He was looking for a change anyway – his own son took over the position in my fathers' court." I said.
"… 3,000?"
"He's not a Jinn. It's complicated." Arthur was 7,000 years old, after all.
"If he can help, I'll take it. There is so much to do and I can't find half the paperwork that I need in this messy office." Loghain sighed – I could imagine him pinching his nose, "I'm just the son of a farmer – I wasn't raised for this."
I chuckled, "Let me make a few calls – Arthur will be at your palace in less than a week."
I moved to the phone in my kitchen while ignoring Cailans' attempts to prod me about Arthur.
My brother answered on the second ring, his deep voice smoothly asking, "Dearest sister?"
"Got a job for you." I hung up.
"That was rude," he said from right behind me.
I turned as the others all jumped. My brother was 6'6 with dads' purple-black hair, his mothers' shining gold eyes, and pale skin. To anyone else, he oozed sex appeal and charm. To me, he was my brother.
"Arthur," I grinned, "I knew you'd come!"
