Chapter 18: Grieve
The wardens returned several days later to the Dalish camp, it had taken that long for the elves that had been turned into werewolves to recover. Their families were grateful for their return. There were many tears happy reunions.
And some not so happy.
Alistair spoke with Lanaya, Zathrian's First; with the curse ended she saw no reason not to honor the treaty the Dalish had signed with the Grey Wardens so long ago. It would take time she informed him, to contact the other clans and have them come to stand with their warden allies, but they would make a difference in the coming war.
Alistair nodded, he could understand that.
The new Keeper was surprised by the news that their returned brothers and sisters brought back, not only was the elven sorcerer that helped save their people a Grey Warden, but he was a Stormbreaker as well. Lanaya had read the old writings; she knew that there had been a time when the Stormbreakers had served all of Elvhendom.
Before they had been exterminated long ago.
Lanaya asked after Alim, she wished to know more about him, but he chose to keep to himself. He had no patience to talk of histories, treaties, and politics. Only one thing had mattered to him these last few days, and he was determined to see it through.
He needed to return Bellethiel to her people.
Sten had been kind enough to carry the girl's body. After what they had been through, after what they had shared, and what they had not, he could not just leave her body to rot in that horrible temple.
Alim had found some fine pale cloth in the former werewolves' lair. It served well enough for a burial shroud. He wrapped the fallen huntress carefully, pausing once to look upon her delicate features one last time.
"Good bye," he whispered, "I am so very sorry."
He gave her lips one final kiss before wrapping her face. From the memories he now shared with the Stormbreaker he knew that it was proper to return the girl to the soil, but not here.
Not when he could see her returned to the clan that loved her.
Presenting her body to her parents had been one of the hardest things he had ever done. Belle's Mother had struck him; she blamed him for her daughter's death. If she had not followed them into the wilderness…she would still be alive!
Alim did not respond; the woman did not need to say anything for him to know this was all his fault.
Her Father was a bit more diplomatic; he thanked the wardens for returning his fallen child to the clan. Alim told him of his daughter's bravery, how she had fallen trying to save their people.
The older elf nodded, he clearly missed his little girl, but understood the value of sacrifice.
A funeral was held for Bellethiel and the others who had fallen. The elves sang the old songs as they committed Bellethiel's body to the soil.
Alim could only watch, his fists clenched impotently, misery had turned to anger, anger at himself, at Zathrian, and the Dalish in general. It had been their isolation that had brought them to this. Zathrian's desire to punish the outsiders who had hurt his family. They had saved the Dalish from the curse, but had they done anything truly right. The Dalish still viewed humans as their enemies, even though one of their own had nearly doomed them.
Zathrian's desire for revenge had killed so many, it had killed Belle!
The fact that the old bastard was dead was little comfort for Alim. The elves had been saved, but at what cost?
He knew that he should consider this a victory that they had succeeded in gaining support for their first treaty. Sadly, all he could feel was loss.
If only she had stayed here. If only she had not been curious about him. If only he had seen the wolf who had bitten her. If only…
If only.
The morning after the funeral Alim led the others out of the Dalish camp. He was not sure where they were going, and did not feel like answering stupid questions right now.
He could not close his eyes without seeing her face, without seeing accusations so clear in her lovely violet eyes.
He could no longer remain here.
He needed to get away before he said something he would regret.
He needed to get away…from everything.
IOI
"Why are we stopping?"
Alim turned to Sten, cold anger simmering in his eyes, "We are stopping because we need to Sten."
"There are darkspawn to be fought, is this delay needful?"
Alim glared at the Qunari, he sooo did not need this right now.
"I need to think, and if you don't mind I do that better after I have rested," he turned to the others. They had picked up Bodahn and Sandal on the outskirts of the Forest. The dwarves had gathered new supplies during their brief stop, not that Alim had an eye for such things right now.
A cold wind blew across the land, Alim shivered, it was not winter yet, but it was coming. Alim was not sure where they would go when the snow finally flew, but right now, all he cared about was getting away from the others.
Thunder rumbled in the sky overhead, nature responding to his foul mood.
"Parshaara," the Qunari said shaking his head.
Alim ignored him.
"Oy you lot," he called back to the others, "there is a clearing up ahead; we'll make camp for the night."
The others nodded, and went about the business of settling in for the night.
Alistair came up to Alim; they needed to decide where they were going next.
"Not now Alistair," Alim snapped.
"I wasn't going to say anything," the former Templar said defensively, "I was just going to ask you how you felt about going back to the circle tower."
"We're not going there, at least not yet."
"But it is on the way, we could…"
Alim spun.
"I SAID WE ARE NOT BLOODY GOING THERE YET! IS THAT CLEAR?!"
Thunder rumbled overhead, lightning danced across the sky.
"Yes," Alistair said meekly, really wishing that he was not wearing a metal suit right now.
Alim held his gaze for a full ten seconds before stalking off alone. Bandit followed after him, the dog whimpered nervously, the dog was clearly worried about its master.
Alistair shook his head,
He knew how the dog felt.
He was worried about Alim too.
Leliana came up to him.
"Are you alright?" she asked.
"I'm fine," he sighed, "I think I just escaped being fried by a lightning bolt, but I'm fine."
"Alim would not do that."
"Would he? I'm not so sure?"
Leliana stared at the retreating elf's back.
"Give him time," Alistair advised her, "He needs to work through this."
The sister nodded, she did not like it, but she had to trust Alistair on this.
She would wait at least for now.
IOI
As the sun set and night fell over the camp, a cool mist rolled in, everything was damp and miserable, only Sten seemed unaffected, Alistair retreated to his tent, while Morrigan kept to her little camp off to the side of the others. Without any warning, Leliana emerged from her tent, she made straight for where Alim stood watch.
She could not take it anymore.
She understood the need to grieve, and she understood that Belle had meant something to Alim. But she also understood that they could not move forward when their leader was wallowing in self-pity.
Alim was probably the strongest elf she had ever met, but even the strongest blade could break if pressure was applied in the wrong place.
Alistair had not been able to help Alim, neither had Sten, Morrigan…well to be honest Morrigan likely did not care that Alim was in pain.
That left her, the one person in the group that Alim really did not like.
She shook her head; the Maker truly had a strange sense of humor.
She had waited until it was Alim's turn on watch, when he was alone, Sten had just left, returning to his tent to sleep or whatever the Quanri did during his late night hours. She found the elf with Bandit dozing at his feet.
Now was the time, now was her chance.
She did not care what it took; Alim was going to talk to her.
Whether he liked it or not!
IOI
He stared quietly out into the darkness; the anger that had settled over his heart squeezed his chest like a vice.
Only Bandit was not avoiding him, Alim was happy with that.
The dogs back home had been his first friends. They did not judge, they did not question…and they did not blame you when someone died.
He heard her approaching even before Bandit did, the shifting of the arrows in her quiver, the sound of her leathers as she moved.
The soft smell of perfume on the wind.
"Alim," she said softly.
Lovely, he thought, the sister is trying to save my soul!
"Yes sister," he hissed through gritted teeth.
"I would like to speak with you if I may."
He turned his icy glare upon her.
She did not even flinch.
"I don't need to confess my sins sister," he spat, "So you might as well return to your tent."
"I'm not here as a sister," she informed him, "I am here as a traveling companion, and as a friend."
"A friend?" he snorted, "I wasn't aware that we were friends sister. And while we are on the subject, why do you think I need a friend right now?"
"Because Bellethiel is dead," she said flatly.
Her bluntness shocked him.
She knew it would hurt, but he needed this.
"I know you cared for her," she continued, "And she cared for you. Did you love her? I do not know. What I do know is that you are suffering, and taking it out on the rest of us, it won't help. What happened to her…it…it was not your fault."
"She would not have been there if it wasn't for me!"
"She wanted to help her people, and she wanted to see the world beyond her clan. We were both there when she died Alim. She did not blame you, she was grateful, you had freed her people, you had saved the werewolves. You even freed Zathrian from his hatred…"
"I DID NOT WANT THAT BASTARD FREED!" Alim snarled.
Bandit sat up, startled out of a sound sleep.
Alim's hands were clenched into angry fists, his ears twitched wildly. Zathrian's face danced before his eyes.
That hypocritical flat-ear bastard!
"He deserved the void for what he had done," Alim continued, "How many died in agony because of him, not just Belle but countless others who fell prey to his curse. People who were just passing through the forest, people that had nothing to do with the death of his children, they did not deserve that fate any more than Belle's clan did. If I could have saved the werewolves by letting him be ripped apart I would have!"
Leliana said nothing; she knew when to speak and when to listen.
This…was a time to listen.
Alim needed to get this off his chest; it was the only way that he could move forward.
But it isn't just Zathrian; it is all of them, the Dalish as a people. They cling to old grudges like a miser holds on to his last coin! We were wronged, I understand that, but when we justify that hatred, when we say it is simply a…result of what had been done to them in the past. The Dalish are not trying to move our people forward, they are trying to hold us back, to reclaim glory that we will never regain."
Alim's eyes were shining, he was fighting back tears. He refused to cry in front of the sister, he would not!
"I spoke with that Dalish storyteller right before we left. Do you know what he asked me? He wanted to know the honorable circumstances of Zathrian's death; he wanted to know the story of how their mighty keeper died heroically to end the curse. He said that Zathrian's tale would be an inspiration for Dalish children for centuries to come!"
Alim's voice cracked, he tried to hang on. He…he would not cry!
"Belle deserved better, she deserved more. I doubt her name will even be mentioned in Zathrian's tale. She went with us to help her people. She was legitimately trying to save them! Zathrian only came to that temple to ensure the safety of his curse, and to feed his own hate and pride. Belle was worth fifty of him, she was…she was…"
Tears flowed from Alim's eyes, he wiped at them, but to no avail.
Leliana watched him, part of her wanted to take him into her arms, but she knew better.
Alim would not accept her comfort.
"I killed her and the world…" the warden mage sniffled, he…he could barely say the next few words, "The world will never know how great she was. She chose to defend her people. I am only here because it was better than dying, or being made tranquil. I'm no better than Zathrian! I'm….I'm a bloody coward."
Leliana pursed her lips, what could she say? The elf was clearly in pain, but would he accept any comfort she offered him?
"She deserved better," Alim spat, angry at himself for crying like a child in front of a chantry sister.
"So do you," she said calmly.
He turned to her, a confused look on his face.
Her face was grim, her bearing cold.
"You did something good back there. You ended a threat that has plagued the Brecilian forest for centuries, no more will suffer because of that curse. And you brought the Dalish over to our side; they will stand with us against the Blight. We have a chance now."
"It isn't enough;" Alim said glumly, "The Dalish alone cannot defeat the darkspawn."
"Then you shall convince the mages and the dwarves to aid us as well. It is not impossible. You proved that. The Dalish will stand with the Grey Wardens, and you will convince the others to stand with us as well. I would do anything to stop the Blight. I know we can do it. I believe in you, just as Bellethiel believed in you."
Alim could not hold her intense gaze, what she said, it shamed him. He had every right to mourn sure, but what about everyone else. The darkspawn would not stop, they would destroy everything in their path, humans, dwarves, elves, everyone.
Belle's people were not out of danger yet.
He owed it to her to continue on.
I believe in you, just as Bellethiel believed in you.
The pain was still there, it throbbed in his chest, but there was something else there now to. Maybe he had to say the words; maybe he just had to tell someone. Now that he had, he felt…it felt like his brain was working again.
He still saw Belle in his mind, but now she no longer stared at him with that accusing glare, her face was inquisitive…
What do we do next sorcerer?
He thought about that, the circle tower was closer, but he still wasn't sure how the Templars would react. He wanted to know where the chantry stood on this business with Loghain before seeking the circle out. Redcliffe was still too risky. If Arl Eamon was the threat that Alistair claimed then Loghain would be watching him.
That left only one place to go, the next treaty.
The dwarves of Orzammar.
They would need to be careful, move cross country. Maybe mix with the refugees fleeing north where they could. Loghain likely knew that some wardens had survived by now. They needed to move carefully.
He realized that Leliana was still watching him, her eyes concerned.
He did not understand why she had come to him tonight. He did not buy the friend and traveling companion thing, she still belonged to the chantry, and they understood nothing of love or loyalty.
But she had helped him, he had not wanted her to but she had.
He owed her something for that.
She turned to leave thinking she had failed.
"Sister," he said quietly.
She stopped and turned.
"Be ready, we start out for Orzammar tomorrow, if you could pass that along to the others, I would be grateful."
"Of course warden," she said curtly, once again she turned.
"And one last thing," he added.
She paused.
He took a deep breath, this was not easy.
"Thank you," he whispered, "Thank you for reminding me what Belle wanted, what she wanted to be a part of. I…just…just…thanks…Leliana."
This was likely the second time he had actually said her name. She could not help but feel this was a kind of progress, that they were forming some kind of rapport.
She was not sure what his grudge was with the chantry, but maybe…maybe he could look past it, and let her help.
As she left Alim seemed to stand a little bit taller, he adjusted his hat and smoothed out his cloak and robes. Spellbinder was still sheathed at his waist.
He had not move forward, not just for himself but for Belle, Duncan, and the rest of Thedas.
He would not let all those deaths be in vain, he would not let Belle's death be in vain.
He would continue on. They would continue on.
There was still much to be done.
NEXT CHAPTER: ZEVRAN!