Chapter 77: Other People's Problems
The Terrain became rockier the closer the wardens and their allies came to Redcliffe. Trees became more scrub brush that actual plants and the sound of Redcliffe's waterfall grew louder.
Leliana smiled at the world around her. In all her travels she had never been to Redcliffe before, when she had first come to Ferelden years ago, she had come by ship and arrived in Denerim.
The bard sighed.
Redcliffe was the last Ferelden settlement on the road to Orlais.
For the first time in years, a sense of homesickness struck her.
She had not seen the empire in almost three years. It was not safe for her there, not with Marjolaine and all of her spies whispering in her ears. No, she purposely stayed away from anywhere so close to the Empire, but now…duty had drawn her here. She was so close, so very close to her old home.
Not that she contemplated leaving Ferelden, oh no. They still had work to do, and besides…
She would not leave her Alim's side.
The bard smiled, Alim had become her night and day. After being alone for so very long she embraced his presence, his gentle touch and the fire of his embrace.
Her beloved warden had bewitched her. Once upon a time she would have denied herself, not allowed herself to give in and allow her heart to be so open to another.
Marjolaine had cut her very deeply with her betrayal, and for the longest time, she had believed herself incapable of falling for another again, falling so completely.
Alim was…so very dear to her. Someone to make her smile, to hold her when she was sad or afraid, and to give her pleasant nights filled with fire and passion.
Marjolaine would call her foolish. That loving the elf was simply asking for trouble.
Leliana did not care. As long as Alim wanted her, she would be there for him, and would fight proudly at his side, and if she died fighting then so be it.
If her death was what the Maker required to stop the Blight then so be it.
She tried to push such dark thoughts out of her mind for now. Death was a constant companion, but that did not mean that one should not enjoy the simple pleasures of life.
As they turned the last bend, Castle Redcliffe finally came into view. Leliana shivered at the sight of the mighty fortress, the great edifice that stood guard over the western road.
She knew some tales about the place. The Arls of Redcliffe had always defended Ferelden, even during the rebellion against Orlais; the noble House of Guerein had stood up to be counted as allies of the Ferelden Throne. It was not surprising that Maric the Savior took his bride from such a family.
Leliana glanced over at a very morose looking Alistair. Alim had shared with her what he had been told by their rather sad eyed ally. She tried to imagine what kind of life he had had here, knowing who he was and who his father had been.
She decided to wait for him to catch up to him. She had heard Morrigan giving him a very harsh tongue lashing yesterday, and then had barred him from her tent.
She wanted to see what she could do for her friend.
He gave her a weak smile.
"Hello," she purred.
"Hello," he sighed back looking at the castle before him.
"Home sweet home," he said in a rather beaten voice.
She put her hand gently on his shoulder, and gave him a friendly smile.
"It has been awhile since you were last here, no?"
"Ten years, give or take," he admitted, "I…I did not leave on the best of terms."
"You did not wish to go to the chantry?"
Alistair shook his head.
"That was a decision that was definitely made for me," he replied, "I was no longer welcome here after little Connor was born, Lady Isolde had no desire for me to be anywhere near her son…her heir."
Leliana's brow furrowed.
"Lady Isolde?" she asked.
"Arl Eamon's wife," Alistair clarified. "You probably don't know this, but the Arl married a noble woman from Orlais. They had met near the end of the rebellion, her family had ruled here under King Meghren and Eamon had been put in charge of seeing to her family's removal from these lands."
Leliana smiled wryly.
"That was likely a very awkward courtship."
"I suppose it was, the war had only just ended and here was Arl Eamon taking up with an Orlesian. Well, to tell a long story short the new Arlessa despised me. She had heard the rumors about me being Eamon's bastard, and likely wanted to see no threat to her son. Not that the Arl would ever have allowed that of course. He loved Isolde a great deal, and sent me away for what he was sure was my own good."
Leliana gave his shoulder a friendly squeeze.
"I cannot imagine that your Father was happy to hear that," she said.
Alistair winced.
"I…I don't know what he thought," the warden said sadly, "I only saw him once, and am not entirely sure he even recognized me. He certainly did not want me anywhere near the throne that was for sure."
The warden chuckled mirthlessly.
"I don't think that he wanted me, so the thought of having a father to son conversation was highly unlikely."
The bard gave him a sympathetic look.
"You are lucky in a way. You at least know who your father was, mine…I…I'm not entirely certain where I come from. It was quite scandalous, Lady Cecile bringing a pregnant servant girl back to Orlais with her. Had she not been stronger or kinder woman, mother and I likely would have been turned out on the street."
Alistair winced.
"I…uhhh…I'm sorry. I did not know."
She chuckled lightly.
"I'm not looking for pity Alistair," she said, "Merely trying to teach you the lesson that Cecile taught me. We are both bastards, but our beginnings should not define our future. We decide our fate, not the circumstances of our births."
"It is easy for you to say," He said, "The circumstances of my birth will likely haunt me the rest of my days."
"If you cannot escape it," she said, "Why not embrace it."
The bard smiled widely.
"There are many tales you know, of lost kings returning to their homeland to reign in glory."
He gave her a dirty look.
"I am not lost, nor am I a king."
"You are Maric's son," she said her blue eyes sparkling like gemstones; "You are the rightful king of Ferelden."
"I am the son of a star struck maid and an indiscreet man who just happened to be king."
He gave her a tired sigh.
"Look I…I can't be king. Some mornings I have trouble deciding which boot goes one which foot."
"Many foolish and unworthy men have ascended to thrones Alistair and you are neither unworthy or a fool."
"I'm glad someone thinks so," he chuckled glancing at a certain witch of the wilds.
Leliana smiled.
"And don't worry about the boots," she cautioned, "That is what servants and advisors are for."
"And star struck maids apparently."
IOI
Morrigan glared at the fool and the chantry twit, listening to them conversing in low tones.
She felt a swell of…anger in her breast.
Alistair, he was not just a fool, but apparently a king of fools, in more ways than one.
Had she known that she and Mother had an actual prince of Ferelden all those months ago, they might have been able to ransom the fool for a lot of power.
It would have been no less than he deserved, no matter how good in bed he was.
Morrigan cursed under her breath.
Had Alistair thought it amusing hiding such knowledge from her? Had he thought funny to keep her in the dark?
She had thought he had come to trust her. She did not deserve it of course, but the fact that he had enough guile to hide something from her was frustrating.
The fact that she had not discovered his secret before now was troubling.
Had she lost her edge? Was that even possible?
She did not like thinking about that.
Now he was there, gossiping with the chantry twit like a couple of fishwives.
The witch's amber colored eyes narrowed.
The girl already had her hooks into Alim, did she truly need Alistair too, was she that…
Morrigan froze.
A horrible realization struck her.
She…she was jealous.
Twas impossible, Alistair was nothing to her, a distraction and a means to an end, but…but that did not change what she was feeling.
She was jealous of the red haired simpleton, the chantry twit.
It…it was intolerable.
It was all she could do to keep from turning back into a raven and flying away. Somewhere in the last few months she had lost perspective. Alistair was a fool and an oaf, but…but somehow.
He…he had become her fool, her oaf.
The witch shook her head.
Flemeth would laugh herself to tears if she heard this little news. She would call Morrigan a weak little fool and slap her hard across the face, and Morrigan would have deserved it.
The witch rubbed her cheek, imagining the slap that her mother would give her.
Had she truly became so weak from her travels? This journey had supposed to make her more powerful.
Not open herself to so many doubts and weak emotions.
The witch stiffened her spine.
For too long she had allowed Alistair to worm his way into her heart that time was now over.
She rededicated herself to her mission, the one that Mother had given her.
Tis a grand goal we possess, one burdened with glorious purpose.
The witch would not stray from her course again, no matter what the fool said, no matter how he made her feel.
She was not some weakling. She was a witch of the wilds.
It was high time she started acting like it.
IOI
Redcliffe village finally came into view.
Alim regarded the tiny settlement with a mix of surprise and trepidation.
Somehow he expected it to be…more…bigger.
Redcliffe was not so different from Lothering, the small stone chantry the mix of houses and smiths. Travelers' carts dotted the landscape.
A small village, he thought, likely filled with people of equally small minds.
His ears twitched slightly.
He saw no elves here, not that that was surprising. Redcliffe was not big enough to have an Alienage. Likely any elves living here were servants in the castle.
Elves were generally not respected in such places, and one who was also a mage would really not be welcomed.
His eyes narrowed.
Well…he did not give a damn what they thought. He was not here to win any popularity contests. He was here to bring the arl into the war against the darkspawn and…
The wind shifted.
Alim nearly wretched.
What in the name of Andraste's tits was that horrible smell?
The sickening sweet smell of rot and decay washed over the group. Even Bandit gagged at the foul odor.
Alim took another look at the small village, and this time he realized that something was very, very wrong.
Peasants were drilling with bows and swords. The trade carts were arranged before the chantry doors. No children or old people wandered the village streets.
The entire place was locked down, on a war footing.
Alim cursed under his breath.
So much for their return to bloody civilization!
Even here they could not escape the troubles of the world.
Leliana was at his side.
"Love, what is wrong?" she asked.
He snorted.
"Other people's problems Leli," he spat, "And once again we are caught right in the soddening middle of them."
The elf turned and made for the bridge, sputtering angrily under his breath.
It seemed that no matter where they went these days they could not escape the need to intervene in things that should not concern them.
It was not that they were busy, oh no, there was only a soddening Blight going on, and a civil war too.
Now they had to stick their noses in yet another mess.
Weren't they just so fucking lucky!?
IOI
A lone scout stood watch on the bridge; he nearly bounced to attention at the heavily armed party approaching him.
"You," he gasped, "Praise the Maker! I thought I saw people coming up the road! Are you here to help us? We have been waiting for days!"
Alim smiled sweetly at him, but it was sweetness laced with venom.
"Let me guess, your village is in danger and you have nowhere else to turn?"
The scout paused.
"I…I…we…yes…you haven't come to help us? Has…has no one else heard?"
"We're here to see the Arl," Alim said coldly.
"The…the arl?" the man seemed perplexed by the elf's statement.
Alim sighed loudly.
"Let me guess, he is not available."
"He could be dead for all we know!" the scout cried, "No one has heard from the castle in days! We're under attack. We have tried to send word to Denerim for help but…"
Alistair pushed his way up next to Alim, his eyes suddenly cold and serious.
"What is attacking you," he demanded, "What is wrong with the Arl?"
"As I said, we don't know," the man whimpered, "None of us do, we…I…I should take you to see Bann Teagan, he is the only one holding us together now."
"Bann Teagan, Arl Eamon's brother, he is here?"
"Yes," the scout said bobbing his head, "If you will follow me, I will take you to him. Please hurry, he will want to speak with you before nightfall.
Alistair took the lead.
"Come on Lim," he exclaimed, "We have to see what we can do."
Most of the others followed in Alistair wake. Shayle, Morrigan, Sten, Oghren, Zevran, Seri, and Bandit remained where they were waiting for Alim's orders.
Leliana paused looking back at her lover.
"Hurry Alim," she said, "We are needed."
The bard took off after Alistair.
Alim rolled his eyes.
Morrigan came up beside him, her glare as icy as ever.
"It seems we are both bedding fools Alim," she said with a shake of her head, "Noble fools."
"Who is the more foolish then Morrigan," he asked, "Us or them?"
The witch snorted; clearly she did not like to think about the answer to that question.
The elf sighed.
Just once, he wished coming to a new place would be easy, no danger and no problems.
So much for that idea.
"Let's go," he said, "It seems that we have more problems to solve…how wonderful!"
They followed after their more noble companions.
Shayle chuckled.
"It took the words right out of my mouth," the golem chuckled.
She was starting to enjoy travelling with the elf.
They had much in common.