Chapter 84: Consequences
"Will it hurt?"
The question put Alim off slightly, they had waged battle to get this far, finally confronting Connor inside his room. The warden tried to ignore the toys scattered around. He tried to ignore the books and various trappings of youth that marked the young man.
The elf's brow furrowed.
It would have been easier if they had struck the boy down inside the great hall.
Leliana was at his side, as were the others who agreed to accompany him. He was grateful for their presence, but had no intention of letting them do what he knew had to be done.
This was his decision, and he had to live with it.
"You will not suffer," he promised, "It…it will just be like going to sleep."
Connor gave him a sad smile.
"All…all I wanted to do was help father. You…you will help him won't you? You will help him get better?"
"You have my word," the elf murmured.
Connor sighed; the boy looked so weary, like someone who had seen far too much in his few short years.
Perhaps, when all was said and done…he had.
"Tell…please tell my Father, I'm…I'm sorry. It was the bad lady, but…but it was me as well. I know that now."
"I will," Alim promised.
The boy shook his head.
"Close your eyes," the elf murmured.
Connor looked up, his eyes wild with hate and dread. The demon must have realized that its time was almost up.
It did not intend to pass away without a fight.
"TRESPASSER! I'LL DRIVE YOU OUT!"
Weapons were drawn.
"CONNOR!"
Lady Isolde managed to force her way into the room.
Connor's body twisted, it became the desire demon that had caused so much trouble.
Alim did what he knew he must.
Isolde screaming her son's name still rang in his ears.
IOI
The next few days in Redcliffe passed by quickly. There was much to mourn, and many dead to bury.
Connor went to the flames with his mother and uncle looking on. Alim stayed at the back during the ceremony. He had been forced to cast a sleep spell on Lady Isolde to stop her for interfering in removing the demon from her son.
Alim hated himself for what he had done, but that did not mean that he did not see the rightness in it. He had been true to his word. The boy had not suffered.
Few Templars would have been that forgiving.
Alistair and Wynne were giving him a wide berth. They had both worked so closely with the chantry and circle; they should have realized that what he had done had been the right call. It may not have been the nicest of choices, but it was better than letting the demon destroy Redcliffe.
Jowan had been returned to his cell. Alim was still not sure what he wanted to do about that. Jowan had brought down a lot of pain on both himself and those who cared about him, and yet, he was still Alim's friend. In spite of everything, he still looked at Jowan like the closest thing he had to actual family.
He hated the thought that there was nothing that he could do for him.
The only comfort Alim found during these dark days was Leliana. Of all of them, he had come to think that only she understood exactly what he had done when he had chosen to end Connor's life.
The risk had been too great. He had tried to justify letting the boy live, seek out another solution, but he just could not do it. The people of Redcliffe had suffered enough. They had lost mothers, fathers, wives, husbands, and children, and all because one young boy had made the worst possible bargain to save one man…
He understood, but that did not mean that he condoned.
What would he have done if it came to saving his own mother or father? If he could have brought them back, how far would he have gone?
Irving would have advised that those are the kind of questions that are the most dangerous to a mage. 'What if?' was a very dangerous question, and every mage had to realize that sometimes it was better not to think about, or deny it utterly.
The warden mage sighed.
He had made his choice, now he had to live with it.
That did not mean that he had completely forgotten the debt he owed the Arl and his family. Arl Eamon was still comatose, and could not be awakened. Arlessa Isolde still believed that the Urn of Sacred Ashes could save him, and from what she and Teagan had showed him, the research sent to them by this Brother Genitivi, he had come to believe that this might not be such a wild goose chase after all, and even if it wasn't…
They still needed the Arl. Even with the treaties and their armies, it was unlikely that the nobles of Fereldan would listen to their pleas for aid. The only way to continue now was to unify those that opposed Loghain and force the Teyrn to step back from the mad path on which he had placed all of Ferelden.
It would not be easy, but without the nobles, they did not have the numbers to stand up to the Archdemon, and Alistair refused to leave Ferelden and let the darkspawn have it.
It was unavoidable. They would stand and fight, and hope for the best.
Teagan and the villagers supplied the wardens and their allies with the best of what they had. It seemed that their first stop would have to be in Denerim, where Brother Genitivi made his home. It would be risky what with Loghain's men in full control of the city, but they had few options…
Also, Alim hoped to make a side trip on the way, since they would be passing by the old imperial highway anyway, he hoped to pay a visit to Ostagar, to retrieve the documents left behind by King Cailan.
The risk was minimal, from the few traders that finally made their way into Redcliffe it was clear that the main body of the horde was now cutting a swath of destruction through the central bannorn.
What few darkspawn that remained in the south would prove to be only a minor threat. Unless the horde detected them and swung back, to deal with the surviving wardens, in the end, they would just have to be careful.
The group was quiet as they made their way out of Redcliffe. Spring was slowly starting to give way to summer, and with summer would come renewed fighting in both the Blight and the Ferelden civil war.
Time was always against them.
All they could do now was make haste.
IOI
They made camp just outside the mountain paths. Tents were set up, and food was prepared.
Alim sat near Leliana; it was hard to believe that they had camped here such a short time ago, before proceeding on into Redcliffe.
That felt like it happened a lifetime ago, and now they found themselves off on yet another quest, this time to find one of the holiest relics in all of Thedas.
The elf looked at his lover who smiled warmly at him. If anything she thought that this quest had been meant for them. Maker sent and everything. He did not share her faith but…
The bard glanced up, her smiled faltered slightly.
Alistair was coming closer.
Alim said nothing as his fellow warden approached. Theron had been avoiding him since Connor had been slain, and Alistair had, for the most part, given the elves their distance.
The warden mage frowned.
It seemed that he was done with that. The elf had never seen Alistair look so angry, he had been holding in for so long, but it seemed that it was finally about to explode.
"Excuse me love," he murmured.
"Yes dearest," she replied.
He rose to meet his friend his hands crossed behind his back.
He faced his fellow warden calmly, even though he felt anything but…
"Now that were back in camp," Alistair said without preamble, "I want to discuss with you what happened, at Redcliffe."
Alim's ears twitched.
"I did what I deemed necessary."
Fury flashed in the former Templar's eyes.
"Necessary," he spat, "NECESSARY!? How could you do that Lim? How could you just…just…"
The knight stammered, barely able to form a sentence.
"How could you just kill Connor? He was an innocent little boy!"
The elf replied with a tired sigh.
"He wasn't an innocent, Alistair. He made a deal with a demon. Any other mage…"
"It was the Arl's son Lim, his only son!"
"You know chantry law as well as me," the elf reminded him, "A mage too weak to resist a demon cannot be allowed to survive. You saw the damage Connor did in Redcliffe."
"And what about your friend, what about that blood mage?"
"Jowan will answer for what he has done, one way or the other."
Alistair cursed under his breath. It was rare that the knight swore. Alim had to fight the desire to smile.
It would not be appropriate given the circumstances.
The former Templar paced back and forth before his friend. Alim said nothing. He knew that his friend needed this. He needed to vent if they were going to continue on."
When he finally stopped pacing he turned to mage.
"What are we going to tell the Arl?"
The elf winced.
"We tell him the truth."
"And you think that will make it all better. We killed his son!"
"No," Alim replied softly, "I killed his son. If the Arl wants to be mad at anyone, let him be angry at me."
Alistair shook his head. He looked like a small child about to face his father's wrath.
"What am I going to say to the Arl," he whimpered.
Something in the weakness in his voice set off Alim's temper.
The elf had heard enough.
"I see," he said coldly, "So this is not about Connor. You're just afraid of what the man who raised you might say about all this?"
"Of course I am, but that is not…"
"Do you think I should have done nothing? Do you think I should have run back to the circle, and hope that Connor did not destroy Redcliffe in our absence?"
"I could have stayed…"
"Would you have been able to end it?"
The elf's question stopped Alistair in his tracks.
"If push came to shove, Alistair," he continued, "Could you have ended Connor's life? Would you have been able to do it, if it had come to that?"
The knight looked down at the ground, clenching his fists impotently.
Alim's ears lowered in anger.
"I did not think you could, and I did not blame you," he continued.
"You grew up in that castle, grew up around the Arl, I never… NEVER… would have asked you to do that, it would not have been right to put you in that position."
He got right up in the larger man's face; he stood almost nose to nose with him, or would have if Alistair had not been so tall.
"Do not presume to think that I don't feel bad about doing what had to be done. Don't you dare stand there and blubber about this. I made a hard call, but it was one that you forced on me. You could have taken the lead back in Lothering, but you decided to follow me."
He snorted.
"I made a choice," he said, "I chose to be merciful and give the boy a quick death. Far better than what Knight-Commander Greagoir would have done in my position. Anyone who has ever held the role of a leader would agree with me on that."
The elf stood a little straighter.
"Duncan would have agreed with me on that."
It was a low blow, but Alistair needed to hear it. The elf remembered very well what happened to Jory. There was still a Blight going on. They did not have the time to be gentle.
The knight glared down at him. Alim have expected his brother to throw a punch, slap, or smite him, but Alistair said nothing.
He fled the elf's presence, grumbling under his breath.
"There must have been something," he murmured over and over again.
"There must have been something."
IOI
Alim felt exhausted when he returned to Leliana's side. His beautiful lover was giving him such a concerned look.
He smiled trying to look reassuring.
"Warden?"
He turned, and was surprised to find Wynne standing there. The old mage must have been listening.
The elf snorted.
"Are you going to criticize me too?" he asked.
The old woman shook her head.
"It was not an easy decision that you made," she said, "I may not agree, but given your reasons…I…I understand."
She turned away, her face looking a bit wan.
She paused, and glanced back over her shoulder.
"Irving would have been proud of you."
IOI
The elf stood there, not really sure how to respond to that.
He…he had expected Wynne to…
The elf sighed.
Perhaps the old biddy was not so bad after all.
He sank down beside Leliana again; the bard was making repairs to her leather vest.
She smiled up at him.
"Are you and Alistair going to be alright?"
He shook his head.
"I hope so," he murmured, I did what I felt was best."
He gave her a sad smile.
"Hopefully one day, he will see it that way."
IOI
Alistair made his way out of the camp. Cursing both himself and Alim for what had happened back in Castle Redcliffe.
No, not what had happened, but what he had failed to do. Alim had been right. He could have taken command back in Lothering, but he had always preferred to follow.
The knight shook his head.
Duncan would have agreed with me.
He wanted to deny it, but sadly, Alistair knew Duncan, the man he was better than anyone. The man had been more of a father to him than King Maric or Arl Eamon ever was.
Duncan understood the value of making hard choices.
He likely would have supported the elf's decision.
That realization did little to salve his conscience however.
What was done was done.
He realized that he did not want to be alone tonight. Not after Connor, not after everything.
He found himself walking, not really sure where he intended to go.
His path wound up at Morrigan's tent.
He could hear the witch inside, murmuring to herself.
"Morrigan?" he called out.
He heard her sigh.
"Yes Alistair?"
Something in her voice sounded off, his brow furrowed slightly.
"Is everything all right?"
He heard the witch snort, not quite a laugh, it was a nervous sound, perhaps boarding on hysterical.
"I…I am not sure," she replied, "I…I have been studying Mother's grimoire. I…I had hoped to find more spells that she knew, secrets to the vast power that she wields, or a map of her power."
She sounded so lost, so confused, his heart went out to her.
"May I come in?"
He thought that she was going to refuse him, joke about him indulging her ego.
No jokes came.
"Please," she said, "Come in."
He lay down his weapon and slipped into her tent.
The witch was sitting on her bedroll, her long, lustrous raven hair tumbling down her pale shoulders.
Her amber eyes were so very haunted; to say that the witch looked disturbed would be a gross understatement. Morrigan was likely the most stubborn woman he had ever met, but…
That look in her eye, it spoke of a need, and a desire not to be alone.
Frustrations and anger burned away.
All that remained…was lust.
He gave up trying to think about the day.
He did not want to think about Connor, Alim, or Duncan.
He did not want to think right now, period.
He acted…
She did not seem to disagree.
IOI
He seized her, kissing and nipping and her pale body. She groaned in surrender, arching her back under his gentle caresses, pulling at his armor and the clothes underneath.
Part of her questioned what she was doing. After what she had learned this eve, why was she doing this, she should be planning her next move.
Deciding what she was going to do about her dear sweet mother.
The Grimoire was not what she thought it was, and apparently neither was the plan that Mother had concocted.
Flemeth was trying to use her, to treat her as a pawn.
It could not be allowed.
The young witch knew what needed to be done, and in the morning she would bring it to Alim. The elf would…
OHHH!
Alistair guided his tongue over her collar bone, she shivered in raw delight.
He threw her down on her bed roll, tearing off his trousers and her robes.
He was growling like some wild animal now.
This was not Alistair the Templar, or even Alistair the warden.
This was her creation, Alistair the man, the one who hungered for her attention and body.
She smiled savagely.
If the elf would not help her deal with Flemeth, she was fairly certain that she could convince Alistair to aid her.
It would not be very difficult at all.
She wrapped her bare legs around his waist, letting him have her.
She let herself be carried away.
She would deal with Flemeth tomorrow.
Tonight…belonged to them.